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“As soon as you’ve done that, escort Miss Densley back to the house,” William said.

“No, William.” As much as Charlotte did not wish to make that journey alone in the darkness, it was nothing when compared to how much she did not wish William to confront a criminal by himself. She swung her horse around so it was facing the way they had come. “Thomas must stay with you. I can make my own way.”

“Charlotte, please.”

“He is coming, my lord.” Thomas’s insistent whisper cut off any reply she may have made.

Another shower of rocks bounced off the cliff, and seconds later, two white smudges materialized on the sand. Charlotte heard a muffled curse, followed by a male voice.

“Jasper. Where the devil are you?”

The stallion attached to Thomas’s mount nickered.

“Your horse is quite safe,” William said, his voice steely. “I certainly hope the same can be said for my sheep.”

“Lord Cheston!”

“It appears you have an advantage over me, sir. Your name, if you please.”

The dark shadow up against the white cliffs stepped forward. “We need no introduction, my lord.”

William inclined his head. “So it would seem. I had not expected to see you here, Mr. Ryland.”

“Nor I, you, my lord,” Mr. Ryland said.

Charlotte bit back her gasp at his calm response. Mr. Ryland had dined at the baron’s house not more than two days before. The gentleman was William’s neighbor and friend.

“You have just come from my land and are stealing my property, sir.” William’s posture was ramrod straight, his tone glacial. “My presence should not be terribly surprising.”

“What I am about is hardly stealing, my lord.”

“Then how exactly would you define the taking of my sheep under the cover of darkness?”

Mr. Ryland’s shoulders straightened. “I am merely setting them free.”

Charlotte stared at the gentleman. His eyes shone unnaturally bright in the moonlight. There was something about him that put her on edge. She shifted in her saddle and his gaze darted to her.

“Miss Densley,” he said, bowing his head. “This is an unexpected pleasure.”

“I would not go so far as to say that, sir.”

“Come now.” His smile sent a trickle of unease down her spine. “We spoke together quite pleasantly at Tribbley Hall. Indeed, I told you that very evening of my mission to have the marshlands around the Broads be a place of refuge for all of England’s marvelous flora and fauna. The opportunity to grow and roam in their natural environment belongs to all creatures.” He raised his chin, turning back to face William. “Norfolk’s sheep do not belong penned in by walls and hedges. They deserve to be as unrestricted as the county’s native deer and rabbits.”

“If you wish to populate the Broads with sheep, Ryland, you may do so,” William said. “But they will be animals purchased with your own purse, not mine.”

“A baron, such as yourself, has such deep coffers, you have no need of sheep,” Mr. Ryland scoffed.

“The depth of my family’s coffers has no bearing whatsoever on the fact that I have given my word to several noteworthy merchants that Tribbley Hall will provide them with a large quantity of high-quality wool—a promise that will be almost impossible to keep since you have stolen over twenty-five of my sheep.”

William’s vehement rebuke had its effect. Mr. Ryland took a step back, appearing suddenly less sure.

“It was for the sake of the sheep, my lord, I was simply—”

William did not allow him to finish. “In case you have forgotten, Mr. Ryland, sheep stealing is a crime punishable by death. You may offer your excuses to the magistrate, but as he has also fallen victim to your nefarious activities, I would advise you to choose your words wisely. Indeed, as Thomas and I intend to escort you to Mr. Wellington’s residence right away, you may take the entire journey to consider your speech because, quite frankly, I do not wish to hear anything more.”

Thomas stepped toward Mr. Ryland. The gentleman saw him coming and bolted, startling the meandering sheep. With a fearful bleat, they ran directly into Thomas’s path. The steward stumbled backward. William turned his horse to cut off the sheep, and Mr. Ryland leaped onto a boulder beside Charlotte’s mount. The horse skittered sideways, but before Charlotte could settle him, Mr. Ryland tore the reins from her fingers and swung himself up behind her.

In one swift movement, he wrapped his free arm around her in such a way that her arms were pinned at her sides, and then he dug his heels into the horse’s sides. The horse shot forward, and Charlotte was thrown back against Mr. Ryland. He grunted but did not let go of her.

“William!” Charlotte cried, but already, her horse was galloping down the beach.