Umbrage overcame Barlow’s features. “Ridiculous. As the most highly regarded solicitor in London, I am quite above traipsing the countryside in search of pots of gold at the ends of rainbows.”
“You will go,” growled Rutley, “or I will be done with your services.”
Barlow appeared ready to accept termination when Mrs. Byrd lightly touched his arm. He glanced down at her in seeming surprise. She smiled at him warmly.
“Mr. Barlow, I know you are an important man with immense responsibilities and little time for a young girl and an aging widow. However, I witnessed your enthusiasm as we addressed the puzzle of the letters. I, for one, would gratefully welcome your mature and wise presence on the coming journey. We would be forever in your debt.”
Barlow’s eyes softened as he regarded her in silence for several seconds. Then he chuckled quietly. “Why not? I enjoyed rambling the dusty corners of this kingdom in my youth. Perhaps the journey will do me good.”
She squeezed his arm before releasing it. “We have a traveling party, it seems.”
Miss Hancock nodded before shaking her head. “But I have no funds. I cannot afford a journey north to the border. I am afraid I must ask for another loan from Mr. Rutley to cover the costs.”
Defiance toward his future father-in-law rose in Adam. “Absolutely not. You need not borrow another pence from Mr. Rutley. I still possess one hundred pounds. I will pay expenses.”
She seemed again relieved. “I will repay you when I can.”
He snorted. “Repaying me should be the least of your concerns.”
She dipped her head, but then a spark lit her eyes. “We must begin immediately. But how will we afford coach fare to Carlisle? How will we afford the time on rain-soaked roads?”
Adam pondered her question, lost for answers. When Barlow tapped his shoulder, he looked up.
“Leave it to me, Mr. Ashford. Meet me at the West India docks at first light. Pack only what you can carry, but plan for a long journey. We do not know what lies ahead.”
Adam nodded and looked to Miss Hancock. How would she fare on the uncertain odyssey ahead with her very freedom in peril? A sympathetic smile tugged at his lips. She caught his eyes and frowned.
“As first light may be foreign to you, then let me explain. It is the time of day when the sun first rises in the east. Do not be late.”
Adam’s sympathy evaporated. The journey ahead promised to be long and arduous indeed.
Chapter Four
Jane huddled beside Hester in the predawn twilight of the West India docks where, all around them, bodies hauled heavy bundles bound for far shores. Snatches of commentary just beyond hearing conveyed the tenuous nature of their safety. The aroma of three hundred unwashed men seeped into her nasal cavity, despite a gloved hand covering her nose.
“Hey, missy,” said one passing sailor with a leering wink. The rest of his commentary nearly buckled Jane’s knees. To her credit, Aunt Hester stared the man down until he moved onward. Jane cursed her own naïve judgment. For Hester and her to have come to the docks alone in torch-lit darkness had been utterly foolish. In her fright, she gripped her aunt tightly and fixed her eyes on the road where the innkeeper had reluctantly dropped them minutes earlier. Perhaps he would return.
“I am sorry, Aunt Hester. This was a poor—”
The apology died on her lips as she spied a man approaching in a direct line toward them. Despite his tall frame, his double-flapped leather coat swept his shins as he walked. It flared open with each stride to reveal long legs tucked into rugged pantaloons and a pair of beaten hessian boots. A white cotton shirt, simple neckcloth, and an outdated tricorne hat completed the ensemble. He carried a large bag easily over one shoulder. Jane began to lean toward the man, overcome by an instinctual sense that he could help. Her tentative first step faltered when she recognized him.
“Mr. Ashford!” With equal parts surprise, relief, and disdain, the name emerged as a choked exclamation. He closed the remaining distance between them before halting.
“Miss Hancock. I should have suspected you would arrive early and appear well-rested, despite the circumstances. This only reinforces my suspicion that you are a witch.”
Jane huffed. To cover her relief, she resorted to what she did best in his presence. Insult him. “What did you say, sir? I could not hear you over the incessant braying.”
He dropped his bag and clapped twice in mock applause. “Very good. I see you visited the blacksmith recently to sharpen that tongue. Did he also fashion for you a pitchfork?”
“If I have need for a pitchfork, sir, I will simply borrow yours. Although, I do admit surprise.”
He cocked his head. “Surprise? Over what?”
“Your attire. I did not believe you capable of owning clothing so common.”
He shook his head. “What you do not know of me could fill libraries.”
“I see. Then I am doubly surprised.”
