Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

T he next day promised to be as bad as the previous. The lawns now looked like lakes, and the river was overflowing its banks.

Patience, Grace, and Joy had been breaking their fast in their shared sitting room, watching Freddy pounce on a little ball Joy had made for him, tied onto the end of a stick. It was a rather genius invention which allowed them to play without moving from her seat.

After just a few minutes, Freddy laid down and began to bat the ball from his back.

"He seemed to tire more quickly than usual," Joy observed with a frown.

"You need to tell Cook to stop feeding him so many scraps. He's positively obese," Patience scolded.

"Perhaps he needs a playmate," Joy remarked thoughtfully.

"As if all of the animals here and the other barn cats are not enough. Besides, Mr. Cunningham will be here any day now with your pup."

"I hope he likes him. He may not." Joy dangled the ball in front of the cat.

"Maybe not at first, but they will grow used to each other," Grace added.

"I wonder if Freddy can even get here in this weather. I wonder if he would think to come by boat," Joy pondered.

Patience and Grace exchanged glances, indicating they thought that very unlikely. "One is always open to pleasant surprises," Patience said dryly, then sighed heavily. "Surely this rain cannot go on forever. A puppy would be a very welcome diversion right now."

"God did promise never to flood the earth again," Grace pointed out.

"He did not promise England, though."

"You must stop being so cynical, Patience."

"I know. I need something to do." She stood and walked over to the window. "Are my eyes deceiving me, or is that a carriage?" A large black blob appeared to be moving slowly towards them.

Grace and Joy ran over to join her at the window.

"Do you think it's Mr. Cunningham?" Joy asked.

"We will know soon," Grace said, looking excited.

"I suppose that answers our question about maritime considerations," Patience murmured.

Grace chuckled.

"Let us go see!" Joy scooped up Freddy and took off down the stairs. Patience did not bother scolding her. At this point, when she was almost seventeen, she doubted it would do any good.

She followed behind Grace at a more leisurely pace, though she was rather excited at the prospect of visitors. Anything to liven the dread boredom of the past few weeks. They were at the door waiting unfashionably as the coach lumbered slowly towards the house, and they held their collective breath a time or two as it looked as though the vehicle might become stuck.

"At least they are close enough to walk from there…or swim."

"I hope it is Mr. Cunningham or we shall look like complete fools."

"Who else could it be?" Joy asked.

Indeed, it was none other than Mr. Cunningham and Joy could not contain herself when she first saw him alight. She handed Freddy to Grace then took off to greet her friend.

Patience could only laugh at the display as Joy greeted him, then looked inside the carriage for the puppy. Not to be left out, Freddy squirmed out of Grace's arms and went to investigate the new creature.

The butler and a footman were doing their best to shelter this display with umbrellas, but Patience feared it was fruitless. The pup squirmed down out of Joy's arms and began to frolic in the puddles.

"He is a cute little thing," Grace remarked, still watching with Patience from the portico.

"I doubt he will smell too cute once he's finished."

"Oh, look! Is that Vivienne and Lord Montford?" Grace asked.

"It appears to be."

The butler must have given up on sheltering Mr. Cunningham and Joy, and was now walking Vivienne towards the house as Montford followed along.

Mr. Cunningham and Joy decided to take the puppy to the barn. "He's been confined to the carriage for so long and Freddy did not wish to bring the pup in the house wet," Montford explained as he removed his wet hat and shook it before stepping inside.

"I am certain that is appreciated," Patience replied. "We are so delighted you have come."

"Freddy could not be convinced to wait until the weather improved. We have been traveling for ages at a snail's pace!" Vivienne described the horror as she handed her wet cape and bonnet to Armstrong, the butler.

"I will not ask how many times the carriage was stuck," Grace said as she took Vivienne's arm.

"At least I was not the one who had to push it from the mud," Vivienne agreed with a laugh.

"Thankfully you made it here safely. I will ask the housekeeper to prepare rooms for you," Patience said as they walked upstairs to the drawing room.

"Freddy said he sent word ahead, so hopefully we are not unexpected." Vivienne paused with worry in her voice.

"It would not matter if you were. We are so thrilled to see other humans," Grace reassured her.

"Monty! Miss Cunningham. You are very welcome," Westwood said as he and a very expectant Faith entered and greeted the new arrivals. Faith called for tea, and they all sat to hear the latest news since they had seen each other last.

It was a half-hour before Freddy and Joy rejoined them, each holding an animal. Little Freddy was hissing at the new arrival, who was bundled in a blanket and whining.

"Oh, dear," Grace murmured.

"Is this the new pup?" Westwood asked. "Does he have a name yet?"

"I have not had long enough to assess his personality," Joy proclaimed. "Thus far, Little Freddy is not fond of him."

Big Freddy gave a look of disapproval to his namesake.

"I think he is jealous. He wants you to hold him," Joy decided.

"I will take the puppy," Patience offered. She had always been more fond of dogs than cats anyway. She liked Freddy Tiger, but he was somewhat indifferent to her unless she had scraps he wanted.

Mr. Cunningham handed her the partially dry dog, who was thankfully still wrapped in the blanket and seemed content to remain so. She looked down at the adorable little fellow, who licked her face, making her laugh. She sat down next to Grace so she could also meet their new pet.

Grace's hand got a lick, and then the pup quickly fell asleep in Patience's arms. She sat him in between them and continued to pet him while he slept. Maybe she needed her own companion. It certainly worked for Joy, who now had two.

After tea, Faith was tired and went upstairs to rest. Westwood, Lord Montford, and Mr. Cunningham went to the stables to see how the breeding was progressing, and Grace, Joy, and Vivienne went to visit the baby animals in the barn.

Patience stayed behind with the pup, who had yet to be named. As Joy left with Freddy Tiger, she turned and called back, "He will need to go outside when he wakes."

"I think I can manage that," she retorted.

Once there was a slight reprieve in the rain, Patience decided to take a walk. She already wore a serviceable grey muslin, and she quickly changed into her boots that she had been wearing back and forth to the barn through the mud, though the pup was determined to pull the laces loose as soon as she had them tied. She chuckled. "You are not so different from Freddy Tiger, you know. Maybe he will grow accustomed to you and stop hissing and growling."

Patience took the cat's lead and placed it around the pup's neck. He did not seem to care for it and tried to grab it and chew on it. "Something else to become accustomed to," she muttered.

Even though the rain had ceased for the moment, she could see there would be no way to return from an outing clean. Her boots sank into the squishy mud, as did the puppy, all the way up to the fur on his stomach. "I think another bath is in your future," she warned as they set off.

She was always drawn towards the river, and she followed the path along the stream that eventually emptied into the Thames, even though the path was still covered in water much of the way.

The musky, fresh smell just after the rain helped alleviate some of her indoor isolation, as did watching the little pup run to and fro from tree to tree to smell and leave his own scent behind.

The roar of the river testified to the recent rains long before they came upon it. As they approached the stone bridge, the water was overflowing the banks and had diverted around it.

"Drat," she muttered to the dog. He sat and cocked his head to the side at the sound of her voice. "There is no way to go forward right now. I am afraid we will have to turn around."

They stood there watching the water run rapidly for a few moments before turning back. A short walk was better than no walk, she had to remind herself.

The pup—he really needed a name soon—began to pull hard to her right, so she allowed him to sniff. Likely he was chasing an animal's scent. Was it not almost time for fox cubbing?

He pulled her to a small clearing in the tress, where it looked as though someone had set up camp. A stretched-out cloth was strung out, covering the remains of a fire, and a tent was set up just beneath the shelter of the trees.

It appeared to be deserted, but Patience could feel the hair on the back of her neck rise at the same time the pup began to bark. Without hesitating, she picked him up and began to run as fast as she could back to the house.

With no free hand to hold her skirts, she tripped and fell in the mud, barely releasing the dog in time not to fall on him. She stood and looked down at her ruined dress and could have laughed, except she was still spooked by the feeling of being watched near the bridge.

The puppy sat and waited for her, and she picked up his lead and decided they were close enough to the house that a slower pace was acceptable. Still trying to catch her breath, she looked back to make certain they weren't being followed, then ran straight into Ashley Stuart's arms. Of course. She looked like a drowned rat covered in mud.

Ashley had just arrived at Taywards and was drenched and muddy from the ride from London. A nice long soak in a warm bath was calling out to him. He had just handed off his mount, Caesar, to a groom and rounded the stables when Patience Whitford came barrelling into him.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, trembling.

Ashley frowned. Something was wrong. The beauty was dishevelled and covered in mud. She was even more beautiful thus than when she was dressed like a princess.

"Major Stuart! I wasn't expecting you," she exclaimed breathlessly.

A sodden and muddy puppy was yipping at his heels, and he kneeled down to let him sniff his hand while he waited for her answer. "What is it? What has frightened you so?"

Her bonnet had fallen back, and she wiped a damp strand of hair that had fallen into her eyes. "I assure you it was nothing. I was spooked, is all."

"You are not one to easily spook," he remarked. It didn't look like nothing. He had felt her trembling.

"I saw a squatter camp. I thought someone was watching me, and when the pup began to bark, I took fright and ran back here. Nothing happened."

"He was trying to protect you. One of Cunningham's?" He knelt again and scratched the pup behind the ears, but immediately Ashley was on alert. If whatever the danger was had reached Taywards, it had to be dealt with quickly. "Can you tell me where the camp is? I will go look into it."

"Of course. I took the path along the stream that leads to the river. I was going to cross the bridge and circle back around, but the water was rushing over it. If I hadn't doubled back, I might not have seen it. The pup sniffed it out and led me to it. The camp was nestled between the clearing in the old chestnut trees. There was a tent set up."

Ashley nodded. "I know precisely the place. Let me escort you back to the house, then I will go back with Westwood."

They walked a few steps in silence, the dog smelling his way ahead of them.

"What brings you to Taywards, sir? I did not realize we were to have the pleasure of your visit." She seemed to rethink what she said. "Not that you need a reason to visit your family. It's just surprising you would wish to ride in this wretched weather we've been having. Although Mr. Cunningham and his sister arrived earlier with Lord Montford. They brought the puppy to Joy."

"It was not planned, but as you say, the abysmal weather has kept me inside far too long. I decided a little rain would not hurt me."

She smiled at that. "I am sure your family will be pleased to see you."

"But not you?" Why the devil had he said such a thing? The last thing he should be doing was flirting with the likes of Patience Whitford.

"We are always delighted to see you, sir."

We. Not I, he noticed.

They neared the barn, and Patience stopped. "I dare not take him to the house like this. I will see you later, sir."

"Do you wish for me to accompany you?" he asked.

"Grace and Joy are here. I will not be alone."

"Very good." He snapped his heels and made her a quick bow before turning towards the stables.

He would dearly love to bathe and rid himself of the muck from the ride, but he needed to investigate this camp as quickly as possible. He wanted to inform Westwood of what Patience had found before he set off alone.

Westwood was showing off one of the new colts to Freddy and Monty. Ashley raised a hand in greeting when he saw his brother. Westwood excused himself and came over to Ashley. "Thank you for coming so quickly."

"You saved me from myself," Ashley admitted. "There was little to do in Town."

"I thought you might bring some others with you," Westwood remarked. "You did come alone?"

"For now. Renforth set some of the others to investigating a few leads in London, and they will send word or join me here if they discover anything."

"What kind of leads?"

"He was not completely surprised when I told him of your request. It seems that some reports of other things in Greenwich had reached the Foreign Office. A large shipment of arms went missing, and the leads went cold near here."

Westwood frowned. "That is much more serious than I'd anticipated if there is a connection."

"Indeed. And just now, I literally ran into Miss Whitford as she was running, frightened by something on her walk."

"Is she harmed?"

"She is well, but she was alarmed. She found a squatter camp near the river and sensed someone might be watching her. The puppy led her to the camp, then began barking. I am on my way to investigate, but I wanted to at least inform you of where I was going."

"Shall I accompany you?" his brother asked.

"I think it would be best if I go alone. I might be there for hours waiting for someone to return if they have not already abandoned the camp."

"Very well, I will come to the bridge after dinner if I have not seen you by then. You can signal to me if you need something."

"It will be like old times," Ashley said with a wry smile. "Except I may be out there indefinitely."

"Then I pray the rain stays away a little longer."

Reluctantly, Ashley left the warm, dry stables and made his way down the path that Miss Whitford had described. He could track her boot prints as well as the pup's paw prints, but he kept to the tree line, so if the path was being watched, he would be obscured.

If someone had seen Miss Whitford, then they would likely have already left when they saw her take fright. There was also the possibility that she could be in danger. Westwood would take care of warning the girls from walking alone again. Likely, he had not thought Taywards to be in danger since it was downriver and across from the Greenwich docks. However, the small pier at Taywards was only used when horses were coming and going, which was only a few times per year. Someone could be making free with the dock and it would likely go unnoticed.

As he made his way along the path, he could hear the roar of the river before he reached the bridge. He was grateful Miss Whitford had the wherewithal not to try to cross the bridge, but 'twas likely having the dog with her made her more cautious. She was temperamental and impulsive and who knows what trouble she would have found herself in otherwise.

It mattered not that she set his blood to boiling. He was not looking for a wife, and besides, his brother's ward was as good as his sister in terms of being protected. Although that did not stop Dominic from marrying Faith, he thought with no small amount of irony.

He was at the camp in no time. The tall old trees and damp earthy smell took him straight back to the days when he and Dominic had played here in their youth. Sometimes it had been Robin Hood, and other times they'd played Nelson battling the French off the Trafalgar Coast.

Ashley found a perch from which to watch the camp for a while, although it appeared their uninvited guest had already departed. The time returning Miss Whitford and speaking to his brother had cost him, but he could not regret being cautious. There were no signs of any life other than the birds and squirrels. After he was certain no one was lying in wait, he stepped out to examine the remains of the camp. To the unpractised eye, signs of inhabitance might have been overlooked. An effort had been made to hide the fire and smudge the footprints, but they were there. He removed his gloves and crouched down, turning over the log which had been thrown over the mud-covered ashes. Sifting through the muck, a flash of metal caught his eye, and he uncovered a small knife that must have been dropped in their haste to leave. Covered in mud, it looked like nothing but an ordinary knife, much like the one he carried himself. As he stood to leave, questions remained. Why were they here, and were they related to the missing munitions? It could be a coincidence, but Ashley did not believe in coincidences.