In Pursuit of Eliza Cynster Read Online Free PDF Page A

border.
    She didn’t want to wait until after crossing the border to do whatever she was going to do; as Scrope had intimated, being in Scotland would only further reduce her prospects for rescue.
    And it was rescue she needed. With her captors’ tale at the ready, attempting to directly free herself would only lead to social disaster.
    Like Heather, she needed her hero to appear and whisk her out of danger.
    Heather had got Breckenridge. Who would come for her?
    No one, because no one had any idea where she was.
    Breckenridge had seen Heather kidnapped; he’d followed her from the start. No one, Eliza felt certain, had any idea where she’d gone.
    If she wanted someone to rescue her, she was going to have to do something to make that happen.
    She wished she had Angelica with her; her younger sister would be bursting with ideas, jigging with enthusiasm to try them out. Eliza, in contrast, couldn’t think of any clever plan beyond the obvious one of exploiting the single loophole in her captors’ tale of fetching her for her guardian.
    If she could attract the attention of someone who knew her, someone of the ton, then her captors’ tale would never stand. And given her family’s wealth and influence, there was every chance that the shocking fact of her being in her captors’ hands for days and nights could subsequently be buried.
    But any such rescue would have to occur this side of the border; once in Scotland, her chances of sighting anyone who knew her, and their ability to talk her out of her captors’ custody, would be greatly reduced.
    Shifting back into her corner of the coach, she trained her gaze forward, scanning the occasional vehicles traveling toward her. If she saw anyone likely …
    In this far distant corner of England, she knew only two families well — the Variseys at Wolverstone, and the Percys at Alnwick. But if her captors continued to avoid the Great North Road, her chances of sighting any member of those households wouldn’t be high.
    Looking at Scrope, she asked, “How long before we cross the border?” She managed to make the question sound idle enough.
    Scrope glanced outside, then pulled out a fob-watch and consulted it. “It’s just after midday, so we should be in Scotland by late afternoon.” Tucking the watch back into his pocket, he glanced at Genevieve. “We’ll halt at Jedburgh for the night, as planned, then go on to Edinburgh tomorrow morning.”
    Eliza looked outside again, staring out at the road. She’d been to Edinburgh twice. If they left Jedburgh in the morning, they’d be in the Scottish capital by midday, and from what Scrope had let fall, that was where they planned to hand her to the laird.
    But if they weren’t going to cross the border until late afternoon, and it was just after midday now, she was fairly certain that the coastal road they were on would take them through Newcastle-Upon-Tyne, the nearest major town to both Wolverstone and Alnwick, and, if she remembered correctly, the coach would have to traverse the entire breadth of the town to pick up the road to Jedburgh.
    If it was market day, or even if it wasn’t, rolling slowly through Newcastle-Upon-Tyne would be her best chance to attract the attention of someone she knew, in a town where that someone could readily command the support of the authorities.
    Adventure might not be her forte, but she could do this. She could manage this.
    Relaxing against the squabs, she gazed out at the road and waited for the roofs of Newcastle to appear.
    The sun broke through the clouds and beamed down; the warmth made her sleepy, but she fought off the temptation. She wriggled, straightened, stretched, then settled back. The glare off the next section of road, wet after a passing spring shower, hurt her eyes.
    She closed them, had to, just for a moment. Just until the stinging eased.

     
    Eliza woke with a jolt. For a second she didn’t remember … then she did. She recalled what she’d been waiting for,