Page 60 of The Gift of Patience
Patience took that to mean that this was not his men arriving. Remaining where she was, she put her hand on the hilt of her knife, just in case this was some sort of trick.
“Carew? Well met!” Mr. Cunningham’s voice greeted rather loudly.
Stuart hissed his annoyance and muttered something she could not discern, though it was obvious he was displeased with the turn of events. Would it risk his men?
“This is not the normal welcoming party,” Carew drawled. “Were you expecting someone else?”
“You could say that, but no matter. How can we help?”
“If someone could send for the grooms. They are used to helping me unload. I’ve only brought four this time.”
Montford and Cunningham offered to go, while Patience remained where she was, unsure of what to do. Did Carew’s arrival mean that the others could not land?
Stuart seemed to be discussing something with Carew quietly. Perhaps he was conveying the situation to him. The next thing she knew, he was back at her side.
“I will escort you back to the house. As you can see, there are plenty of people here.”
“You stay and help. I can see my own way back. I saw myself here, after all.”
“It was not yet dark.” He wanted to argue more, but it was best if he remained.
“Will your men still be able to land?” she whispered.
“I believe they may be able to still come in well-hidden by the other boat. Carew’s arrival is an excellent distraction.”
Patience made her way back to the house, keeping her hand on the hilt of her knife. At least Grace would be happy by this unexpected arrival.
The men had indeed beenable to sneak in behind the arrival of Carew’s boat and crew. They jumped in and helped with the horses and looked like they were part of the crew that had come from Ireland.
As they moved Devil to the gamekeeper’s cottage, he cursed his own recklessness for having given in to temptation. He needed to apologize to Patience because nothing could ever come of it. She might think it was fun now, but would soon grow weary of it. Of him. But that would have to come later.
Once inside the cottage, Baines and Fielding looked around. It was not a large place with only a bedroom and a living space with a small kitchen, but it was a better choice than the dovecote.
“I thought you two could stay here with Devil.” Who they had just sat down in the wooden chair. He angled his head to the table. “There is some dinner Cook made for you.”
“We’ve certainly stayed in much less desirable places than this,” Baines remarked as he headed towards the food.
He served some food on a plate and set it before Devil then untied his hands.
“Much obliged.”
Baines inclined his head as though uncomfortable with thanks from a prisoner. It appeared they had garnered some grudging respect for each other throughout this ordeal.
Fielding also made himself a plate and they dug into Cook’s delicious mash and chops.
“Did the rest of the trip go as planned?” Ashley asked as he took the jug of ale Cook had packed and filled up pewter tankards for each of them.
“Much better than the beginning,” Fielding answered. “How were things here? It felt wrong to leave you to clean up the mess.”
Ashley could not deny it had been less than ideal. “Needs must when the devil drives, as they say. If Farmer Jones had not happened by, it would have been much more difficult. With Sir Horace shocked into a statue, and Westwood indisposed with Faith giving birth, it was a strange day to be sure.”
“Has the babe been born, then?”
He nodded in the affirmative. “She had already given birth by the time I returned with the body. A healthy baby boy. I am off the hook!”
“Hear, hear!” They raised their mugs and drank to Lady Westwood.
“One development that deepens the mystery is that Rupert was shot in the back.”
