Nottingham
“Leo!”Percy shouted, jolting Leo awake.
He swung his arms wide, spilling the whisky that had been in his snifter, and sat up on the chaise with a curse. He groaned and slid a palm over the back of his neck, where an ache began. “Bloody hell, Percy. What time is it?”
“It is nearly half past the hour of midnight.”
Leo stood with another groan as pain stretched through his back and hips. “You did well by waking me then, Percy. I’d much prefer to sleep in the comfort of my own bed.”
“Leo, I have news.”
For the first time since he’d awoken, Leo looked at his friend. Nothing was out of place, but there was an air of worry…offearabout him that had Leo instantly on alert. “What is it?”
“Before darkness fell this evening, the men I’d sent out found the carriage.”
Hope threatened, but fear tamped it down. There was more, and from the way Percy’s eyelids were angled upward, he was worried about it.
“It was not where Miss Smith had inferred that it would be,” Percy continued. “In fact, the entire wreckage looked as though it had been dragged deeper into the forest and set afire.”
Leo’s eyebrows darted upward. “Set on—What?”
“There were several points at which a fire had been started, but the snow must have put it out a short time after. There was no sign of the horses or coachman, and even with the scorched wood and snow only brushed aside, the men could discern what appeared to be blood splattered upon the equipage. The men also said that—” He coughed to clear his throat, his complexion growing ashen. “The men said that the interior of the carriage was severely damaged, as though someone had attempted to claw themselves out. There were dents and—”
“I have the image, thank you, Percy,” Leo said gruffly, his heart in his throat. Christ, he’d known that Miss Smith had been trapped within the carriage, but he’d not pictured it so vividly.
His man turned his grim gaze toward the door then back to Leo. “We very much fear that someone did this apurpose. That her accident was not, in fact, an accident. We know not the particulars, but it is possible to run someone off the road intentionally.”
Leo gripped his hair and tugged against his scalp before he scratched at his beard, a curse on his lips.
“It gets worse, I’m afraid.”
Leo growled. “How can it possibly get worse?”
“Someone is searching for Miss Smith.”
All at once, Leo’s lungs stopped working, and his heart all but halted its beating. “What do you mean?” he asked tightly.
“I had two men go into the local towns and make inquiries, as I’d wondered where Miss Smith’s last stop might have been.”
“Get on with it, Percy!”
“A man had been searching for a woman matching Miss Smith’s description. I can assure you, Miss Smith’s eyes are unlike many others in Nottingham; if she had been seen, that man would have her direction.”
“Shite, goddamn, and bugger it all, Percy!” Leo rounded the chaise and began to pace. “We’d better warn her before she leaves at first light.” He raked his hands through his hair. “I will, however, attempt to convince her to remain here, where I can keep her safe until we know more about what in the bloody hell is going on.”
“But—”
“I admit, Percy, I’m in a quandary,” Leo continued, not allowing his man to get a word in. But, damn it all, he needed to think this through! “What if there is some nefarious reason why Miss Smith has men after her? What if she deserves to be brought before a magistrate and sentenced for some wrongdoing?” The words rebelled on his tongue. “That does not feel right at all. But whatever it is, the woman deserves the chance to explain herself before I seek an audience with a man of the law.” He stopped pacing and turned to face Percy. “I’d better wake her. We have much to discuss.”
“But that is what I have been trying to say, Leo. Miss Smith rode out on a mount not two hours ago.”
* * *
Juliana’s teethchattered as a gust of wind and snow rushed past her. The horse had slowed to a walk, and the gentle rocking was making it rather difficult to keep her eyes open. She was relying entirely on her mount’s sight, for she could scarcely see beyond the swirl of flakes to the milky blue layer of snow that coated the landscape. The moon, obscured as it was by thick clouds, was of little help.
Surely there must be an inn along this road somewhere—as long as theywereon a road and not a field on someone’s estate. She’d been riding for what felt like hours, and her mount wouldn’t make it much farther without a proper rest. Come to it, neither would she. At the inn, she would take a room and resume her journey at first light.
She yawned, and blinked away the sleep and falling snow.
