Only seconds had passed since Mr. Fletcher had come running out, seen the horse before him, mounted, and ridden off, seemingly all in one motion. Her first thought was to wonder if he left behind enough money to pay their bill. She walked quickly toward the garden gate, even as she heard the landlady’s son calling his mother. Inside, lamps blazed and everyone spoke at once, with the exception of the man who had joined Fletcher and Jocelyn while at table. He stood in the shadows under the stairs, Arnold close beside him. Jocelyn saw her cousin wore a wide grin, but she did not have time then to investigate what mischief he’d gotten into. Quite a few men with ale pots in their hands created a general confusion, and more were coming out of the taproom to observe the commotion. Mrs. Pierce stood in the middle of the room, her hands beating the air as she begged for silence. “Please, Colonel! Please, Jack! Gentlemen, please!” No one paid her any heed. “Just stole him. Mum! He just stole him, right outta my hand.”
