Skylark (12 page)

The novelty of the carriage and the passing scenery held Harry’s interest for quite some time, and then the changing of the horses at the first stage fascinated him. Laura let down the window so he could lean out and watch.

Stephen rode over to chat, but this stop would be too brief for much. “All went well, I assume?” he asked.

“Yes, though Lord Caldfort is definitely in a strange state of mind.” Laura kept a grip on the back of Harry’s jacket as he leaned out, and spoke softly. As they say, little pitchers have big ears. “He even agreed to let us spend some time in London if we wished. Why would this matter of HG make him do that?”

“To be sure that you don’t catch wind of anything he does about it?”

She nodded at him. “That could be it.”

The new horses were in the shafts, their postilions in the saddles. Laura pulled Harry back into the coach, and Stephen said, “Call a halt at Andover and we’ll talk properly.”

She agreed and they set off again, fast enough to keep Harry glued to the window. Stephen rode beside them at a canter, and Laura was glued to watching him.

She’d always thought of him as a thinker more than a sportsman. He’d certainly never been as sporting mad as her brothers and the other young men of the area. Or like Hal, but Hal had been an extreme case. A blood, a buck, a Corinthian.

Being married to a Corinthian gave a woman an appreciation of a fine rider, and to her surprise, Stephen was one. He was clearly riding because he enjoyed it, and she enjoyed watching him. There was something sensual about a good rider on a good horse. She’d never thought that before.

Not even with Hal.

Something was changing, as if the strange events of yesterday had cracked a seal. If Harry was not the heir to Caldfort, she could marry again. It would no longer be wicked to view men as potential husbands.

Men like Stephen?

She grimaced. After the debacle six years ago, he was the last man to be interested in marrying her. Last night had proved it. Not a hint of interest in anything but the letter and the mystery.

Despite the riding, he was clearly still a man of the mind—and besides, she remembered Lady Skylark. That showed what he thought of her. A foolish player in the riggings of life.

There would be suitors, however. She’d been the toast of Dorset before her marriage and a toast of London after it. She was older now, but it would be coy to deny that she still had charms enough to attract a new husband.

She wouldn’t pursue those thoughts yet. It would make disappointment too sharp. But they lingered like a distant but pleasant melody.

In Andover she told the postilions that she wanted tea, and took Harry into the White Hart. Stephen soon joined them, but Laura pulled an apologetic face at him, because Harry was eager for refreshments and wanted to chatter about everything he’d seen.

She’d brought his bag of carved animals, however, and once he’d drunk his milky tea, eaten a cake, and talked for a while, he scrambled off his chair to play on the floor.

It seemed a minor miracle, and Laura thanked heaven for it.

She shared with Stephen her thought about Lord Caldfort having a hand in his nephew’s disappearance.

Stephen saw all the problems she did. “I suppose it’s possible to imagine that Oscar Ris, hired assassin, had a daughter who managed to marry Henry before her father carried out his wicked work. . . .” Eyes laughing, he shook his head. “No, it isn’t.”

“But I do think HG must be a child rather than a man,” she said. “It explains the delay. His legitimate origins may not have been clear until recently.”

“If true, it might be hard to prove his claim.”

“There’s whatever evidence was sent. I wish I’d found that.”

“Caldfort may have destroyed it.”

“I suppose so. I do have something, though.”

She showed him her copy of the portrait.

“Clever woman. I tried to commit it to memory, but this is much better. I’d forgotten how skilled you are at drawing. You were always sketching us.” He glanced at her. “What happened to those pictures? They must be a record of a misspent youth.”

There’d been one, drawn from memory, of the swimming. “I don’t know,” she said honestly, “but they must be around somewhere. I would never throw them away.”

“Ah,” he said. “I wondered.” After a silence he went on. “So if we come face-to-face with someone claiming to be Henry Gardeyne, we can check for resemblance to this, but if the claimant is his son it becomes harder. Resemblance to fathers is a chancy thing—for which, I’m sure, many women are grateful.”

“Cynic!”

“Realist.”

They smiled at each other, but then Laura sighed. “I still don’t see how I can go to Draycombe, Stephen. Not, at least, in the next few days. I can’t arrive home and immediately leave—”

Harry put an animal on the table by Stephen. “Cow!”

“Definitely,” Stephen said, which fortunately seemed an adequate response as Harry returned to managing his farmyard.

“He’ll be back with another one,” Laura warned.

“If a similar response is all that’s required, I believe I can cope. I can get you to Draycombe, too, if you’re willing.”

“How?”

“Definitely,” he said in response to a presented “Hen!” Then he continued their conversation. “We have a little breathing room. Caldfort will have to investigate this Azir Al Farouk. Do we assume that he’ll send the vicar?” He glanced down. “A baa-lamb. Assuredly, sir.”

This slightly more complicated response caused Harry to frown, but he went back to his animals for a while.

“You could always make the appropriate sounds,” Laura said, fighting to keep a straight face.

“
Baa
?” Stephen responded with horror. Feigned, she thought, though she wasn’t sure. She couldn’t interpret him as she once had. It shouldn’t surprise her, but it did.

“He’d have to send Jack,” she agreed. “Whom else can he trust? And that certainly gives us breathing room.”

“Why?”

“Today is Thursday. On Sunday, Jack has two services to lead. He could get down to Draycombe and back in time if he pushed, but he’d have no time to investigate there.”

“Curate?”

“He doesn’t have one.”

“Then you’re right.” He looked at the animal presented, glanced at Laura with a mischief that was familiar, and did a creditable imitation of a turkey gobbling.

Harry broke into giggles and turned back to his animals.

“Now you’ve done it.”

“It was your idea.”

“I never thought you would!”

“
Oink, oink
,” Stephen said to a pig, but caught Harry’s hand. “Your mother and I need to talk a little without interruption. Then I will play barnyard animals with you. Yes, sir?”

Harry frowned mutinously, but if a battle of wills waged, Stephen won. “Yes, sir,” Harry said, and wandered back to his toys.

“Well done.”

“A short respite, I’m sure. Now, getting you to Draycombe. Would your family be suspicious if you claimed friendship with a Mrs. Delaney, living near Yeovil in Somerset?”

“Perhaps not. They don’t know every detail of my life. But I don’t know this Mrs. Delaney.”

“You do now. Eleanor Delaney is the wife of a friend of mine—”

“I know. King Rogue!”

He winced. “I really did bore on about the Rogues, didn’t I?”

“We were fascinated. Nicholas Delaney. King Rogue. Leader of your merry band. So he’s married now?”

“Yes, and in the right place, but most of all, in a matter like this we can trust him.”

Laura didn’t like to express doubts, but she must. “This is a delicate matter, Stephen. Complex and private. I don’t think it’s suitable for . . . for schoolboy nonsense.”

Instead of offense, he seemed to fight a laugh. “Oh, I assure you we’re past that. Trust me, Laura, in matters delicate and complex, the Rogues are your men, and in totally adult ways.”

“Rogues? Plural? This can’t be broadcast around England!”

Any amusement faded. “You can trust all the Rogues, but if you don’t wish to, so be it. I still recommend trusting Nicholas. I pledge my life that you can.”

How could she respond to that other than by agreement, even though doubts lurked?

“His home is only a few hours’ journey from Draycombe. More to the point, Nicholas and Eleanor will accept us as guests, lie for our cause, and if it comes to trouble, be useful support.”

“Trouble?”

“We don’t know how violent and desperate this Farouk is, or how many people he has with him.”

The situation shifted. “I never thought of that. How foolish I am. I’m embroiling you in danger.”

“You think me too delicate for it?” It was phrased almost as a joke, but Laura detected affront. She wasn’t sure why he would feel that way, but she hastily reassured him.

“Of course not. But this is only your concern by accident.”

That didn’t seem to help, so she tried to smooth his ruffled feathers. “I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t turned up, Stephen. And I value your help in more ways than the practical. I know you’ll advise me well. You know the law, and I trust your judgment. You’ve always followed the highest principles.”

“Have I? It has cost me greatly at times.”

What was that wry tone supposed to convey? He was an enigma, but she had no time for delicate male feelings just now. “I still can’t leave Merrymead as soon as I arrive.”

“No? What if you receive a letter explaining that your friend is about to travel elsewhere. That it’s then or never. Given that you have a month at home, that should do.”

She supposed it would, but his strange mood had her on edge. “Harry will have to come,” she pointed out. “He won’t be happy to be left for days, and I wouldn’t want to leave him.”

“The Delaneys won’t mind. They have a daughter. She’s younger, but they’re accustomed to children.”

“You seem very sure.”

“I am.”

She shrugged. “Very well, then, and we need to be on our way. If we travel to the Delaneys together—”

“That could cause talk. I will arrive separately.”

“You could always pretend to be courting me.” The words slipped out and her cheeks burned. “I’m sorry.”

He smiled. “A useful excuse if we need it.”

He seemed to feel no awkwardness about it, for which she was grateful. But his response proved that he no longer felt like that about her. For which she should also be grateful.

“Anyway,” she said, “I wouldn’t do anything so deceitful.”

“Laura, Laura! We’re going to have to lie, and possibly cheat and steal, too, for this cause.”

She looked at him. “You’re right, beginning with lying to my parents. I’m going to hate that.”

“If you insist on perfect virtue, our enterprise stops here.”

Virtue. That made her rethink everything. “Then it must stop here. I can’t afford scandal, Stephen, and my being in Draycombe with you would be a terrible one. It would give the Gardeynes an excuse to cut me off from Harry, and if I’m right about Jack, that could cost him his life.”

He frowned in thought. “Disguise, then. I should be myself. My position might be useful if we need to call in the authorities, and I’m also fairly well known to some gentlemen of the area. But you can be a distant relative. One in poor health, whom I’m escorting to try the sea air. Nicholas will arrange it. He’s good at that sort of thing.”

Laura felt as if he was dragging her into danger. “You’re forcing this.
If
I agree to this plan, then I agree to the disguise. But I think I should stay at the Delaneys’.” She saw his resistance and put a hand on his arm. “If it’s only a few hours away, I can make decisions from there. And then I can stay with Harry. We can’t take him to Draycombe if I’m in disguise, and I can’t leave him with strangers.”

His arm was tense beneath her touch. “You used to trust me more than this, Laura.”

“We were children then. The consequences were minor.”

“Were they? They seem to have brought us here. But come along. You’d best be on your way. You have two days to think over your decision.”

Harry sensed liberation and ran over to them. “Horsey!”

Stephen whinnied, causing a peal of delight.

Laura knew there was no point in arguing further now and went to help Harry gather up his toys. He kept out a duck and ran to present it to Stephen.

“
Quack
.” Then Stephen swung Harry into his arms, and for a wonder, Harry didn’t object to that, or to being carried out and placed in the chaise.

Strangely close to tears over many things, not least of them Stephen’s animal noises and the sight of Harry in his arms, Laura hurried after.

Stephen handed her into the vehicle. “I’ll send a messenger so that a letter from Eleanor will await you at Merrymead or arrive soon after you. I’ll also reserve rooms at the Compass for three days hence.”

“Stephen, I can’t go!”

“If you can come up with a better plan, I will rejoice with you.” A smile twitched his lips. “Don’t pout.”

“A look of resolve is not a pout. You’re pressing me.”

“Because there’s need. Caldfort will probably take some time to consider his actions, but he might even now be dispatching Jack to investigate. You say his church duties will constrain him, but in the face of this disaster can you be sure?”

“No,” she admitted. “I should be used to you winning every argument.”

“That’s not as I remember it.”

She brushed that aside. “This is no time for the past. What if Jack arrives in the Draycombe area before me? I’ll have to stop frequently on the way to Merrymead to give Harry a chance to run around.”

She had the window down and was leaning out, one hand on the top. He covered it with his. “Am I not the efficient one? I intend to ride back and check on Gardeyne’s movements. If he’s still at home, we can assume you have at least the day’s grace you need. If not, I’ll go direct to Draycombe.”