Page 8 of Secrets of a Duke's Heart
An Irish earl, however, would be scorned by most upper-class Englishmen.
She would grill him about his background later. His wealth could be a material reason for Harriet’s kidnapping.
“The lady didn’t protest much when she was snatched,” said the second Rider. Montague cast him a sharp glare in rebuke. “What? It’s true. He picked her up and ran into that passageway like she was a bag of goosedown feathers.” The man cast a gimlet glance at the geese milling about nearby.
“Harriet’s screams will haunt me to my dying day,” Montague declared warningly.
“There is an echo in those caverns,” said Leacham.
“I should like to see these caves,” Clarissa insisted.
“Nay, miss, we have already searched them thoroughly and boarded up the one entrance at the back of the Cock and Bull Tavern.”
In Cavalier Cove, it was a good guess that everyone was in on the local smuggling trade—a victimless crime, really. A visit to Maggie, Caden and Derwa Bulloy’s daughter, ought to yield interesting gossip.
“I know you and your companion spent a long and uncomfortable evening searching for Miss Harriet. Why don’t we all go into town together? You can take rooms at the inn and get a hot meal while I visit with Maggie.”
A little coddling of the masculine ego never went amiss. Bribing tired, hungry men with the prospect of a soft bed and good food ought to soften their rough tempers.
Leacham scoffed. His companion spat. Her brows shot up at their rude manners.
“Old Bulloy wouldn’t let us a room even if we had the scratch.”
“Ah. Perhaps at the other inn in Cavalier Cove? The Mermaid’s Rest?” She knew the excise officers weren’t well-liked in this town. She shouldn’t be surprised.
The Riders exchanged an incredulous glance. “Wouldn’t expect a woman to know how money works.”
She had inadvertently embarrassed them. Mr. Montague came to her rescue.
“I shall secure your lodgings on the condition that you inform Miss Penfirth of all that you have told me,” Montague said in a tone that brooked no argument. He turned on his heel and strode away, his coat tails flapping. “I’ll fetch the buggy.”
“Miss Turner was taken out to sea. We gave chase but the Waterguard’s boats are no match for the Spectre,” Leacham said grudgingly. “We lost our quarry in the storm cloud. We’ve been riding the shoreline all morning looking for her.”
“I see.” She could understand why these men believed that Harriet had pre-planned her own kidnapping. Indeed, she was half inclined to arrive at the same conclusion. But she still wanted to inspect the scene of the crime herself. “Here is Mr. Montague with the horses. Shall we?”
* * *
The day was still early enoughthat the Cock and Bull’s dining room held a handful of visitors. Sure enough, Maggie scowled when the four of them made their entrance. Ignoring her furrowed brow, Mr. Montague strode to the counter and slapped coins on the scuffed wood.
“Two rooms for the night. Starting now.”
“For you and the lady?” Maggie jerked her head.
“No, I am staying with my cousin, Viscount Prescott.” Clarissa smiled warmly despite gritting her teeth over the barmaid’s cheeky implication that she was there with Mr. Montague. “We are working with these gentlemen,” —she gestured at the haggard Riders— “to track down the missing Miss Turner, who was stolen from this very taproom yesterday evening.”
Which Maggie knew perfectly well. She was a fine actress, though, for her eyes flared wide and she pressed her hand to her heart in feigned shock. “I have never been so frightened as when that strange man leaped out of the shadows, knocked over the tankards I’d been drying, and nabbed that poor girl.”
She was lying, if not well, then at least entertainingly. Clarissa almost forgave her for implying that she was there with a strange man. Maggie wasn’t yet twenty and clearly had a flair for the dramatic.
“Are you certain you didn’t recognize him?” asked Montague suspiciously. “I swear I saw you pointing over there and whispering to my niece.”
“How would you have noticed?” the girl said tartly. “You were too busy arguing with that lot.” She jerked her head at Leacham and his companion, then pushed the pile of coins back at him. “We don’t want the likes of them staying here. You can take your money and stick it?—”
“Nobody was their best self yesterday.” Clarissa scooped up the coins, placing them in a row.Click. Click.They glinted against the wood. “Please. Everyone is worried. The Riders can get settled while Mr. Montague shows me the tunnels.”
Forced to see how much money she’d be turning down, Maggie relented. “I’ll have to check with Papa.”
“We want meals, too,” the second Rider, who didn’t seem to be the sharpest tool in the shed, called out. Leacham elbowed him.
