Page 147 of His Duchess in Disguise
As delicately as a maiden treading her way through a country dance, he crouched down beside the circle of trunks. “Yer idee, Yer Grace?” he asked laconically, nodding to the trunks.
“Yes,” Leo replied. “I wanted to be sure that when assistance arrived, the tracks and scents were not destroyed. Emma’s little dog tracked her this far, but he doesn’t understand tracking well enough to pick up the scent of the horse that carried her away.”
“Emma’s yer missus?” the man asked, gently setting one trunk aside and hunkering down to look at the tracks.
“My fiancée. We were traveling to the coast to be wed and then perhaps to have a day or two of celebration.”
“Yup, hyars whar ‘e heisted ‘er up. She put up a fight, but not much of one. My guess is ‘e ‘ad ‘er blindfolded. ‘Ere’s whar ‘e flang ‘er on the ‘orse. See there ‘un stepped aside with the weight. Now, ‘ere, ‘e got on behind, then they kited on up tha road. Jessup!” the man raised his voice, “Bring old Red over hyar. Let’s see what ‘e makes o’ this.”
A slender lad separated himself from the cluster of waiting helpers and brought a red-coated hound with drooping jowls and sad eyes over to them. In spite of the dog’s general demeanor, it was clear that he was a much-loved and well-cared-for beast. His sleek, short hair was clean and showed signs of recent brushing. While lean, well-formed muscles moved under the shining coat.
The hound paused to touch noses with Rags, and it almost seemed as if something passed between them. Red put his nose to the ground and snuffled around the tracks, then set up a baying and headed up the road at a good clip. Before Leo could stop him, Rags leaped off the trunk and sped after the larger dog at a pace that astonished Leo. “Jessup!” the leather-clad man commanded.
“Yessir, Da!” the boy replied and took off after the dogs, long legs pumping to catch up with Red and Rags. Several of the party of rescuers mounted horses and turned to go after the boy and dogs. John Goodkind rode out with the searchers, since he had been tasked with finding Miss Hoskins.
“Ma oldest son,” the man said with pride. “’E’ll pace tha dogs, an’ e’ tracks right fine. Don’ have no fear for the li’l un. My men’ll see to ‘un. Me, I’ll cast about the roadside ‘an see if I can come up ‘ith summat. You lot,” he raised his voice again. “You can come on an’ see to tha Duke’s party an’ ‘is carriage.”
A man carrying a medical bag hurried forward, pausing to look at the Duke. Leo waved him toward Hamilton and the two boys. “See to them. The private patched me up well enough. I have only a graze. My secretary is in a bad way, and the boys were thrown from the top of the carriage. .”
Two more men hastened over to help the doctor, while the tavern keeper and a cluster of men dressed in farmers’ smocks approached the carriage to see what could be done.
“Send for the smith!” one of that group shouted out. Then, when Leo approached him, he went on more quietly. “This can be fixed. The axle is whole, but the rim of the wheel is broken. Some’un warn’t none too happy ‘bout you. Ya see hyar whar some ‘un pulled the pin outa tha wheel thar. It wobbled along for a while, n’nen w’en it ‘it a bump, the wheel fell plum off. My guess is, it did all right until the shootin’ started an’ the driver whipped up the horses.”
“I would berate the driver for not checking the carriage more thoroughly, but I am afraid he has had the worst of the event. If he was complicit, he has more than paid for his part in the affair.” Leo sighed. He had lost men in his command, but that was to be expected. This…the old coachman had let him hold the reins and taught him how to read the tremulous messages from the horse’s mouths as they traveled up the reins. “I don’t really think he was party to it.”
“Doubt not, Yer Grace. They’n as did it, probly glopped some muddy grease on it so’s the driver wouldn’t a noticed.”
“Thank you for that. It would go hard to believe that one of my own turned against me for no reason at all.”
“Good thing I had Tom bring up ‘is wagon. You’ll be needin’ ta get your people back to tha widder’s house so’s they kin rest up.”
Darkness was coming on by the time the wounded were loaded up into the wagon, and Leo had made arrangements for their care. All the while fear for Emma nibbled at his spine, a constant worry that nagged and fretted him. But he had learned as a commander to put faith in his subordinates and to take care of the tasks at hand. It would do her no good to go riding off, breakneck, without a destination or a plan. So, he focused on the care of his people, horses, and carriage, and hoped that the trust he placed in the hunter and his hound were well-placed.
Leo made arrangements with the tavern keeper for a remount for Private Garster and sent the young man hurrying back to Menhiransten in the hope that he would be able to catch Captain Arnault before he set out to meet with Lord Harlow’s seconds.
The canny old man was glad enough to rent one of the two or three hacks he kept at the tavern. When the transaction was complete and the private hastening away, the tavern keeper cast an eye over the Duke.
“Pardon my saying so, Your Grace, but you’ll do your lady no good fretting your heart out while you wait. You look like death warmed over. You need to get some rest so that you are ready when you receive word.”
“I know,” Leo replied. “It is just…we were only beginning . . . and now she has been wrested from me, and I don’t even know where to begin looking. It seems disloyal to do nothing while who knows what is happening to her.”
“Right you are, Your Grace. But you’ve been dicked in nob, make no mistake. You’ll do her no good at all if you take a fever. Let the widow dose you up with some tea and lie down a bit. Jessup’ll be back soon enough with news; then you’ll know where to start.”
Chapter 46
Asoldier entered the dining hall and went straight to one of the sergeants seated at the tables with the men. They began to hastily stand up and form into lines, filing out of the dining hall in an orderly but rapid fashion.
The butler approached one of the sergeants, conferred with him and then returned to the upper table without saying a word.
“What has happened?” Reggie asked, surveying the soldiers filing out of the room.
“It seems that His Grace was set upon by brigands. Both he and Mr. Hamilton were wounded, and Miss Hoskins has been kidnapped.”
Reggie widened his eyes, feigning astonishment. In truth, he didn’t have to pretend very hard, for he had thought both the Duke and his secretary dead. “By Jove! What a terrible thing.”
“Indeed, it is, m’lord,” the butler said. “The Duke has sent orders on ahead. He and Mr. Hamilton will stay the night in Sheriff’s Town, waiting for word from the trackers who are trying to find a trace of Miss Hoskins.”
Trackers. Dunder und blitzen! I didn’t think of that. Here’s hoping something might obscure our trail. Right about now would be a very good time for a thunderstorm.
