Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

P atience was changed into her riding habit and downstairs in record time. Her body was thrumming with the excitement of having something interesting to do. Granted, she would not be in any danger searching in a group, but nevertheless, they had been included. It had probably galled Major Stuart to allow them, but at least he'd been reasonable.

When they had all gathered, Westwood took them to the muniment room where wooden shelves with ledgers lined three of the walls, and a long oaken table with chairs was the centrepiece of the room. There was a large a map of the estate framed upon the remaining wall, which he was now pointing to. "Some of Ashley's troop may be joining us later to help search, but until then we shall divide into five groups."

Why would Major Stuart's troop be called in for this? Patience frowned. It must be more serious than they'd let on to involve them.

He pointed to an area from the front drive which ended at the barn, and spoke to the steward. "Kerr, you take Miss Joy and Mr. Cunningham and search here."

"From the barn and stables to the chapel will be Monty, Grace, and Chauncy, the head groom."

"Myself, Ashley, and Patience will take the area from the path to the river, the dovecote, and the lane to the boathouse by the lake."

Patience surmised this was the area of highest suspicion, and felt honoured to be included in that group. Though it was likely only so he could keep a close eye on her. She almost snorted aloud.

"The groundskeeper and his crew will search from there back to the other side of the drive to the property. Anything that looks suspicious at all—any newly turned earth, fresh footprints, or wheel tracks, anywhere that would be good for hiding—people or goods—we wish to know about. At no time will you put yourself in danger. If you find something, report back here, and Lady Westwood will send someone to find me."

Patience looked at her sister, very large with child, and could see she was disappointed not to be included in the search.

"There will also be grooms to assist. The faster we can cover every inch of the estate, the better. I suggest spreading out at equal distances and going from edge to edge methodically. The wooded areas will have to be traversed on foot but are more likely hiding areas. We will rendezvous in three hours at the stables. Any questions?"

When no one had anything further, the group headed to the stables, where the grooms were leading mounts out for everyone.

Major Stuart boosted Patience up into her saddle, then mounted on his own magnificent beast, a blond gelding, which suited his own fair colouring perfectly.

He looked to see that she was ready, then turned his horse and urged him forward. She followed along, pulling up beside him as they rode to their designated area. "Is there anything in particular we are looking for? Anything Westwood did not mention?"

He looked at her sideways. "Why would you ask that?"

"It seems as though we are looking for more than an intruder, is all. Your troop is coming to help, and he told us to look for freshly turned earth. Unless you suspect someone of digging graves, why would we be looking for that?"

She could see his jaw clench. She had hit a nerve. But why? What was he keeping from them? Instead of persisting, she decided to hone her energy into the search. If he did not wish to tell her what she was searching for, then she would look for everything!

They took the path she was so fond of walking upon, and she searched diligently, even though they had not yet split up. When they reached the clearing near the bridge, where she had found the campsite, Major Stuart stopped.

"I believe the best course of action is to dismount and go on foot from here. We have not yet searched much beyond this clearing."

Patience slid from her mount and tied her up, where Midnight could still graze. Then she began to untie the skirt she had wrapped over the breeches she'd worn for such an occasion like this. When she turned around, she caught Major Stuart staring as though he were in pain.

She had shocked him. It served him right if he disapproved. Behaving with perfect propriety did not suit him either. "Are you all right?" she asked sweetly.

"Perfectly fine," he growled through gritted teeth.

"Shall we begin?" She turned to ask Westwood, not wanting to deal with Major Stuart's surliness.

"I will take this far edge," he said, pointing. "Patience, if you can stay around twenty paces from me and Ashley, you take another twenty paces, then we will begin walking from here to the boundary of the estate."

Patience was surprised they would be so close, but she did not argue. She stepped off her paces, then Major Stuart did the same and they began to walk, one of them occasionally stopping to lift a log or search inside of a stump. Fox burrows and indentations from sleeping deer were the extent of their finds.

It was tedious, boring work. But she would never give Major Stuart the satisfaction of hearing her complain. She was thankful she had the foresight to rid herself of her skirts as it was, her breeches and boots were scratched by thorns and brush.

Signs of autumn were beginning to show as leaves were tinged with the first hints of crimson and gold, still glistening with raindrops. The sound of their footsteps crunching through the fallen leaves, moss, and ferns were punctuated by the sound of the river in the distance.

By the time they reached the boundary of the estate, the clouds had begun to spit drizzle, and it was not long until her bonnet and hair were soaked.

"Nothing," Westwood said as they stopped at the perimeter of his land. He held out his hand. "Let us move over and return."

Major Stuart stepped off twenty more paces. Patience went twenty beyond him then Westwood, twenty more. They began the tedious, methodical walk back. Halfway to the path, there was a dovecote, which at least broke up the monotony of searching the woods.

Patience had never been inside a dovecote, though the thought of hundreds of birds and their refuse in one place was not her idea of pleasant.

"Shall I search the perimeter?" she offered.

"If you wish," Westwood answered as he pulled out a key to the octagonal-shaped stone building. "But there are no longer birds inside."

"Miss Whitford is not afraid of birds, surely?" Major Stuart taunted.

"A few birds, no. Hundreds of birds in a small space? Fear is not the word I would choose. Nightmarish comes to mind."

Westwood laughed at her as he unlocked the door. "Come and see."

The stone building itself was covered with ledges around the perimeter in varying layers. The iron door was small and she had to duck to enter, and was immediately assailed with a similar odour to the chicken coop. This structure appeared much harder to clean with hundreds of small alcoves for nests from shoulder height up to the ceiling. Light shone down on the dirt floor from high windows around the top.

"Is that how the birds entered?" she asked.

"Yes, and if you notice, the nests do not begin at the bottom. It is to protect them from rodents."

"How…interesting."

"I do not see anything of interest here, Dom," Major Stuart said.

"It would have been an excellent hiding spot," Westwood remarked.

"If you have anosmia, perhaps," she muttered.

Westwood checked his pocket watch. "It is time for our rendezvous. Hopefully, the others have had more luck than us."

"I cannot help but wonder if something is right here but the rain washed the evidence away," Major Stuart said as they exited.

"We will have to remain vigilant until we are satisfied there is no longer a threat." Westwood locked the door behind them.

"I will feel better once the others arrive to help. With luck, they will be here soon."

They continued on back to the clearing, where they'd left the horses, which began to nicker when they saw them.

"Poor Caesar! You thought you were going to have a ride when you were saddled this morning, did you not? You may still be in luck," Major Stuart said to his gelding, who began to lean into his master's hand.

"I'd much rather be riding than walking every inch of the estate," Westwood agreed.

Patience wished they would confide in her what they were looking for. She no longer believed it was a simple vagrant.

As she began to untie Midnight, she noticed her ears were back and she was digging at the ground with her hoof. "What is the matter, old girl?" she asked. "It is not like you to do that."

As she kneeled down to inspect her hooves for stones, she was assailed by the eerie feeling she had felt there before. At least this time she was not alone. She looked around from her vantage point below the horse and saw a pair of black eyes staring back at her. She opened her mouth to scream, but he took his hand and swiped it across his throat, warning her, and her throat seemed to freeze.

She turned to see if Westwood or Major Stuart had noticed, but they were too busy talking to each other. She turned back, and the man was gone.

"There! Over there, he's getting away!" she yelled, finally finding her voice.

Westwood and Stuart rushed to her side. "Who is there?"

"A man with black eyes. He was just there in a brown coat with a brown hat, standing behind that tree!"

"Return to the stables at once and tell the others!" Westwood ordered as they took off after him, but her feet did not want to move. Some adventuress she was turning out to be! She'd waited too late to alert them, and could only hope they caught the man.

She was afraid to stay and afraid to leave. But she had to go for help.

The fear of what could have happened to Miss Whitford thrust him into action. It was the anger that kept him in hot pursuit.

If he'd been close enough for her to describe his clothes and the colour of his eyes…

He knew there had to be more to this than mere vagrancy. No one would risk being caught on a lord's land twice unless there was a very good reason.

This was not Ashley's first pursuit, and when one was in a hurry, they made mistakes. Westwood, while not having Ashley's experience soldiering and spying, instinctively knew to go the other direction, that one of them was bound to cut him off before they reached the river. They had the advantage of spending a great deal of time there in their youth.

Ashley could see where the man had run. When he was not being careful, he left broken branches and footprints in his wake. He was a dead man.

Ashley had a fairly good idea of where the man was headed, and he veered right to cut him off. It was a gamble, but with Dom on the other side, it was a good one. Brushing low branches and wet leaves from his path, it was a challenge to move quickly whilst looking ahead.

He heard him before he saw him. Exertions from the chase caused the man to breathe heavy—much like Ashley himself was doing. He pulled his pistol from his waistband, hoping it would not be needed. The man was of much more use to them alive than dead—but was likely armed himself if he was guarding the cargo they suspected him of doing.

Ashley took a deep breath and pushed harder, knowing that he was close, tasting victory.

He caught a flash of brown and knew he would catch the man. His sides burned and ached, but he would not lose. The man turned to see how far his pursuers were and that was a fatal mistake.

Ashley lunged and caught the man's foot, causing him to go down into the mud. Immediately, Ashley was upon him, knee in his back and forcing his hands behind him. After that chase, he did not relish any hand-to-hand combat or fisticuffs. This man would fight to the death. Dominic was upon them in a matter of seconds. He loosened his neckcloth and took it off, binding the man's hands while he fought and thrashed at his captors.

Ashley paused to catch his breath. From past experience, it would be some time before the deep inhalations did not hurt. Dominic looked over the man's head in question, but Ashley shook his head.

He would not bother to question the man now, anyway. He'd rather leave him wondering when the axe would fall. And fall it would, under the expert interrogation of his troop. He prayed they arrived soon.

Ashley spared no more breath than to order the man up to his feet. Westwood found the man's pistol that had flown a few feet away when he'd gone down. Ashley could sense that he thought about arguing, but one sensation of the pistol shoved into his back made him cooperate quickly enough.

They trudged slowly back through the woods until they reached the clearing. Dominic unhitched their horses and began to lead them back. The mile-long path that had never felt long before seemed to stretch on endlessly, but Ashley did have time to catch his breath.

When they reached the stables, a more welcome sight he could not imagine as he saw Colonel Renforth and the others of his troop speaking with Miss Whitford.

"Major!" his commander called. "We were just about to set forth to search. I assume this is what you were after?"

The prisoner looked down and did not make eye contact. Ashley nodded. "Indeed." He turned to his brother. "Where may we take him?"

"Part of me wants to suggest the dovecote," Westwood returned.

"Not a bad suggestion, but the guards would perhaps not be so comfortable standing watch in the weather. There are plenty of rooms within the stables, and he would be well-guarded there."

"I will take a turn with him," Baines remarked with relish.

"We will join you shortly," Renforth agreed with a nod.

Baines took the prisoner into the stable block, the head groom leading the way.

Ashley could not say that he was sad to be relieved. He noticed that Miss Whitford looked pale and shaken. Perhaps her taste for meddling would lessen after this, though being face-to-face with a criminal was no small matter. She had been brave enough to call out, after all.

The others stood at attention, awaiting directions. "Do you wish us to complete the search?" Montford asked.

"I think it would be best for due diligence, but certainly I know I would not mind some sustenance first," Westwood answered.

The others returned to the house, but Ashley knew Renforth would want to question him more. They waited until the others were out of earshot and his superior turned an enquiring eye upon him. "Do you think this is related to our missing arms?"

"We have not yet found any connection or evidence that would link them, but it is too much of a coincidence for my liking."

"And thus far nothing has been found?"

"We have only just begun searching this morning. I strongly suspect, if anything is to be found, it will be near where we found the man. Why else would he risk capture?"

"Possibly," was all his colonel would concede. "What other likely areas for storage are there along the river? I cannot think anyone would risk transporting such large cargo far from the dock. They will wish to remove it quickly."

"Most of the land between here and Greenwich is owned by Westwood or Sir Horace. I am less familiar with the other side of the river, but Westwood should know."

"After a few words with our captive, I would like to see the area where Miss Whitford first found him, then saw him again."

"They are one and the same. I will take you there when you are ready."

Ashley took the brief reprieve to return to the house for luncheon. He wanted to see how Miss Whitford was doing, but she had not joined the others. Where was she?

Unfortunately, he did not have time to seek her out as he was certain Renforth would require his assistance soon. He quickly ate a sandwich and downed a pint of ale before hurrying back to the stables.

Renforth was conversing outside with Baines and Manners.

"Anything?" he asked as he joined them.

"Nothing, as expected. Just give me a little time. The Baines method has never yet failed." His colleague wore a malicious expression.

"Then, with your permission, I would like to continue searching the estate. Once we are assured that there is no one else here, and that we have looked everywhere for the stored arms, then we can expand our efforts."

"I agree. Baines can stay here and work his charms on our man while the rest of us can assist with the search. I think it's prudent to have Westwood invite your neighbour, Sir Horace, over for a discussion," Renforth said.

"I will inform Westwood. A cold collation has been set out with some good ale, if any of you wish to help yourselves before resuming the search. I must gather the others anyway. I will take you there. If you wish to bring your things, Mrs. Armstrong can also show you to your rooms."

"I will take your things for you," Ashley said to Baines. "I will even have some food sent for you."

"Very gracious of you," Baines retorted.

Ashley could not help but wonder about Miss Whitford as he did not see her still when they returned to the house. He directed the men to Mrs. Armstrong and to the food, then found Westwood to tell him of their plans. If she did not arrive to help with the rest of the search, then he would send for her. Perhaps she was more shaken than she'd let on.

As he was informing Westwood to invite Sir Horace over, he saw her out on the lawn with the puppy, who was sitting and gazing at her in adoration. Ashley could not blame him. He excused himself and joined her.

Xander saw Ashley first and bounded over to greet him. He was jumping about Ashley's knees and wagging his tail. Ashley kneeled down to greet him, and was promptly rewarded by Xander rolling on his back and offering his belly.

"You are already becoming insufferable," he drawled.

"Then you should not encourage him," Miss Whitford scolded. She seemed at ease, which relieved his own fears.

"Will you be joining us to search the remainder of the estate?"

"Of course. Why would you think otherwise?"

"I remember the first time I came face-to-face with a criminal. It would not surprise me if you changed your mind, is all. For what it is worth, I do not expect to encounter any more unexpected persons."

"I will not deny it was a bit unsettling when he dragged his fingers across his throat at me." She demonstrated the motion, and Ashley tried not to react. Suddenly he wanted to strangle the man with his bare hands.