Chapter Eighteen

Sheep's Head Inn

Ashford, Kent

L izzie exhaled a breath she hadn't realized she was holding when the small convoy pulled into the Sheep's Head Inn in Ashford. It was late in the evening, and despite the comfort of the carriage, she was tired of riding in it. She needed rest and a way to force Blackwood from her consciousness. But until she saw Edward and Michael, she doubted that was possible. "What time will we be departing tomorrow?"

"Plan to leave at six o'clock," Lord Armstrong said as he assisted her from the carriage. "If we leave on time, we should arrive around midday. We've covered two-thirds of the trip and have about twenty-five miles left to go. Once you are refreshed, I'll meet you in the dining room—it's reserved for us."

"Do we have a room together?" Lady Beadle asked.

"Not unless they are short on rooms. I requested individual rooms, thinking everyone would appreciate the privacy."

"You have always been a thoughtful man," Millie said, smiling at her nephew-in-law.

"Lord Armstrong, what about me and Josie?" Simon asked, tugging the dog's leash close. "We don't mind sleepin' in the stable with the horses."

"Nonsense. You will have a bed, just like the rest of us. Right, William?" Lady Beadle asked.

Lizzie couldn't bear this little boy being separated from his dog or sleeping in the stable. She wouldn't be able to sleep a wink. "I would be happy to share a room with Millie if that helps secure a room for Josie and Simon," she said. Lady Beadle snored…loudly, but for Josie and Simon, Lizzie could endure it for one night.

"Simon, we did not expect you on the trip, but you have been a most welcome addition," Lord Armstrong said. "You won't be sharing the stable with the horses. Lizzie, your offer is appreciated, but there will be no need for that. Simon shall stay in my room."

The young boy brightened. "And Josie?" Simon asked, looking up at Lord Armstrong. "Will she have to sleep in the stable? If she does, I should sleep with her because she will be frightened. And I promised her I would always take care of her."

"Of course Josie will sleep in our room. She is the best-behaved dog I've ever met." Lord Armstrong reached out and patted the boy on the shoulder. "I hope you and Josie have a big appetite, son."

Simon straightened. "Yes, sir! Since I've gotten used to eating regular-like, my stomach complains when I don't."

Lizzie laughed and swiped at a rogue tear. "Simon, we shall do our best to keep your stomach from complaining."

After taking the time to relax and refresh in her room, Lizzie decided to lift her mood by changing into one of the dresses designed for her by Lady Beadle's modiste. This time, she wore a pale-yellow muslin with white lace trim around the sleeves, collar, and empire waistline. After quickly readjusting her chignon, she felt presentable and went to gather Lady Beadle.

An hour later, she and Lady Beadle walked down the stairs to the dining room, where they found Lord Armstrong, Simon, and Josie waiting for them.

"Josie couldn't wait," Simon said, indicating the dog, who was enjoying a bowl of scraps provided by the cook. "I told her it was rude to eat before everyone else, but she didn't listen."

"We'll overlook it this one time," Lord Armstrong said with a wink.

"I apologize for keeping you waiting," Lady Beadle said. "I had to send one of the footmen to the carriage to find my ear trumpet. I simply cannot hear without it."

Lizzie bit her tongue to keep from laughing. By now, she was certain her employer read lips—not a word escaped her notice.

"We've only been down here long enough to order food," Lord Armstrong said. "The kitchen staff just brought it. I'm looking forward to a pleasant dinner and a good night's rest for our early start tomorrow."

"Did you have any trouble with Simon's accommodations?" Lady Beadle asked.

"Not at all. The innkeeper brought a comfortable cot into my room for him and a large pillow for Josie, who promptly dragged it to the front of the fireplace," Lord Armstrong said.

"Oh, I am pleased to hear it. Most inns don't allow pets. How did you manage it?"

"It wasn't hard when the innkeeper began to calculate the amount of money he would not make if I decided to move us to the Swan, which is only a few miles down the road."

Lady Beadle chuckled. "Clever man. I wouldn't have wanted to separate Simon from Josie."

"Josie and I both appreciate it." Simon grinned. "Since we moved into Lord Sinclair's house, Josie discovered she likes fireplaces, especially when they're lit. It was hard to stay warm in our shelter behind Gunter's. This is ever so much better. I appreciate the warmth of a fireplace, but after having to climb up and down so many to do the cleaning, I'd rather sleep in my bed, away from them."

"I can understand that, son," Lord Armstrong said, reaching down and scratching Josie behind the ear. "I'm glad Lord Sinclair and Mrs. Pritchett encountered you that day. You're a good lad."

It pleased Lizzie to see the acceptance and display of affection Lord Armstrong had for the boy. She was fond of him herself.

Dinner was delicious and filling. The lively conversation lasted only a few minutes as travel fatigue wore down their little group. Lizzie enjoyed a hearty meal of roast lamb, potatoes, asparagus, and plum pudding before finally retiring to her room. Despite her fears brought on by Blackwood lurking outside the townhouse that morning, she felt herself finally relaxing and feeling more comfortable. They were but a few hours away from Michael and Edward, and Lizzie was confident that once she arrived at Graceview Manor tomorrow, they would find a way to stop Blackwood's harassment of her.

The rooms were clean and comfortable, with goose-down comforters and freshly washed linens. After spending the entire day in the carriage, Lizzie practically melted into the sheets. Her room was next door to Lady Beadle's, and even without visiting her friend's room, she knew that the bed was against the same wall as hers, as she could hear Lady Beadle's familiar loud snores coming from the other side. She was so tired that her eyes closed the moment her head hit the pillow. Her last thought was her growing excitement of finally reuniting with her brother and praying that he was on the mend and seeing the man who'd made it all possible—Edward.

Wearing a smile, and despite the snores from next door, Lizzie fell into a deep slumber.

*

Just before dawn

Moonlight streamed through a crack in the faded white curtains when Josie began licking Simon's face. Opening his eyes to a squint, Simon saw it was still dark. He stretched his arms and legs and groaned. "Can you hold on a little longer, Josie? When the sun shows itself, that's when we need to get up. It's just a little longer…"

Another whimper—this time louder—confirmed what Simon already knew. She had to poop…and soon. He glanced at Lord Armstrong's bed and saw the man was still in a deep sleep. "Gosh, girl. We gotta wake him and let him know we're gonna have to go outside. The last thing Lord Armstrong told me was to not leave the room, that inns could be dangerous. Are you sure you can't hold it a wee bit longer?"

As if in answer, the little dog jumped from the bed and slapped her paw on the door.

"Fine. I'm up," Simon grumbled. He never wanted Josie to think he was mad at her—even if he could have used a little more sleep.

The smell of sausage wafting in beneath the door made Simon's stomach growl. "We gotta hurry. It'll soon be time to eat." He put his legs over the side of the bed and pulled on his shoes and socks. Out of an old habit, he had gone to bed with most of his clothing still on. He grabbed the little hat Lady Beadle had insisted they buy when they shopped for clothes and slapped it on his head. "Can you smell that, girl? Sausage! We're lucky we don't have to look for our food no more, Josie. We just follow the rules, learn the ways of the gentry, and show up for meals," he murmured, picturing a hearty plate of sausages, fried eggs, and toast smothered in jam.

The puppy whimpered and stepped over to the bowl of water sitting next to the door where Lord Armstrong had placed it last night. She lapped up a few mouthfuls, then picked up her favorite stick between her teeth.

"Not too much, or we'll never make it outside before you go," Simon admonished her.

A grunt sounded from the other bed. "Simon, is that you?" Lord Armstrong sat up. "What's the matter?"

"Beg pardon, milord. It's Josie. She has to go out. She usually doesn't wake me like this, but maybe her stomach is feeling poorly."

"That's understandable, lad. She probably isn't used to riding all day in a carriage. And the food may not have settled well. I'll get dressed and follow along with you shortly. Stay close to the inn and don't venture far. Be aware of your surroundings."

"I promise, milord," Simon said.

"Call me William. We're friends."

"Thank you, Lord…William," Simon said almost reverently. He vowed never to take for granted his good fortune. He finally had what he'd always dreamed of…a family.

Josie whimpered again, reminding Simon she couldn't wait longer. "I need to take her, sir."

"Yes, of course. Go on. I'll be right behind you, lad."

The boy and the dog quietly made their way down the stairs and through the pub, where the aroma of sausages and fresh bread made Simon's mouth water. Josie lifted her nose to sniff, momentarily distracted from her immediate dilemma. "It'll be there when we get finished—I hope. Let's hurry, Josie."

After a few minutes of sniffing around the sparse bushes in front of the inn, Josie finally settled on a place to do her business, making Simon smile. "Just hurry, girl. It's chilly out here." I've never had anyone make sure I had a bed to sleep in or food in my belly. Or clothes that didn't smell or have holes. Our lives got better when we met Miss Lizzie and Lord Sinclair. And he had always wanted a dog he could love and who would love him in return. In Josie, he had that. They looked out for each other. She needed him and he needed her. The only thing missing from his life was his little brother. Simon wanted to find Bobby before something happened to him. Lord Sinclair said he'd help. But where to look?

Simon had seen two of his friends die when the big rocks in the tunnels they were digging fell on them. He heard them scream, and then nothing. Hiding in a crevice, he'd heard the Man tell his people to get rid of the boys as if they had meant nothing to anybody. He watched the men shove his mates into a boat and then row it out to sea, unable to do anything or risk losing his own life. Deciding then and there he had to escape, or he too would come to the same end, he ran away and was thankful for finding Josie—his best friend.

"Goodness, Josie, how much you gotta do?" he whispered, irritated. A sudden noise nearby told Simon that he and Josie were no longer alone in the yard. Could it be Lord Armstrong? Heavy, clomping footsteps and a muffled curse made him realize that it was not the kindly gentleman but two strangers.

"Be careful, you dolt," a rough voice muttered.

Quickly, Simon picked up Josie and stepped back into the shadows. He got her attention and put his finger over his lips—his signal for her to be quiet. He had trained her to do this shortly after finding her because their lives sometimes depended on slipping by unnoticed. From the shadows, they watched two men making lumbering motions toward the stable yard.

The men were carrying something wrapped in some sort of blanket or rug. As they drew closer, the shorter man tripped. The taller man sounded angry as he complained, "Did you hear how the bastard spoke to me? Smugglin' is one thing, but he ain't payin' us enough to kidnap some chit. What's the lass ever done to his lordship?"

The smaller man stumbled, nearly knocking them both off their feet. "Sorry, Spike. Good thing we didn't drop her. The Man would get mad about that."

"What the hell did I tell you about sayin' my name when we're doing a job?"

"Sorry, Spike. I won't say your name no more."

"For the love of… Just keep your trap shut."

As they walked past, a shaft of moonlight illuminated their bundle. The burlap blanket had slipped, forcing Simon to smother a gasp. The slender arm of a lady covered in long, flowing locks of glistening blonde hair was hanging from the opened flap.

That's Miss Lizzie! No one could have hair as pretty.

Simon watched as the men hefted her up, shoved her inside a carriage, and slammed the door.

"Careful, you dolt. You're going to damage the goods, and then he won't pay us. He's always looking for an excuse not to pay," the taller one said.

Simon's mind began to whirl. They must have hit her on the head to knock her out, otherwise Miss Lizzie would be fighting and screaming for help. He had to do something. But what should I do? Lord Armstrong still hadn't come down from the room. Most likely, there would not be time to run up and get him.

Remembering a piece of paper he had in his pocket from dinner, when Lizzie was helping him with his letters, Simon pulled it out and took Josie's stick. He pushed the stick through the paper and, hurrying from his hiding place, dropped it and his hat just behind the carriage. Helped by the light of the moon, he and Josie managed to wiggle into the boot of the carriage in the nick of time. After closing it, he shrank to the bottom and hugged his beloved puppy tightly.

"We just made it, Josie. It's up to you and me now." He prayed that Lord Armstrong would be out soon and find Josie's stick and the hat.

*

Lord Armstrong stepped out of the inn and looked around, puzzled. I asked him to stay close. Where could they be? When he spied a stick stuck through a piece of paper and a hat in the middle of the yard, a chill ran down his spine and a sick feeling formed in his stomach. He examined the paper and realized it was Simon's handwriting from the impromptu lesson Lizzie had given him during dinner. William also recognized Josie's stick and Simon's hat. My God! They've been taken. I shouldn't have let them go out without me.

At that moment, the window to Lizzie's room on the second floor opened, and Aunt Millie's voice pierced the morning mist with a shrill scream. "Lizzie's gone. Someone's taken my Lizzie!"