He strolled towards the lodge, a sense of accomplishment warming him. He’d signed a contract with the general for a hundred American longrifle muskets yesterday in spite of theDaily Courantpublishing the article. What were Bolingbroke’s plans for the muskets? The man had been tight-lipped about it. Whatever his reasons for contracting for the muskets, Slade was eager to share the news with Peter.
And he was thankful theDaily Couranthad kept the identity of his informant, Bolingbroke’s former maid, a secret. The woman had few things working in her favor, being unwed and unemployed with a child out of wedlock, but her anonymity wasone of them. He hoped the money he’d paid her for the story through Harbert and Companywould help her in the interim while the agents hunted for her next employment position, which he’d directed them to do for an additional payment.
As Slade approached the lodge, in the distance, he spotted the reason he’d needed a cool plunge so early in the morning. Fifi stood motionless, her back towards the open stable door, staring at the ground in front of her. She looked like the earth had opened up and Lucifer himself was emerging. His adrenaline spiked. His view of the space in front of Fifi was blocked by shrubbery, so he reached for his dagger and broke into a run, in her direction.
She edged backwards towards the stable door as a feminine hand reached out from inside the stable and pulled her further back, away from where her gaze was fixed.
“Are they adders? I plan to have children and live a long and happy life. Getting killed by snakes will certainly hinder my plans.” Lucia’s shriek rang out from inside the stable.
“I don’t know if they are adders,” Fifi said.
“Mistress, please come away! You are standing too close to the vile things,” Martha said.
Slade neared the trio, his breathing coming hard. An angry hissing made his gaze drop to the ground in front of Fifi. Two sizable brown snakes coiled angrily in front of her. He exhaled in relief. He was about to tell her they were harmless grass snakes when the sight in front of him heated his blood, rendering him speechless. Fifi tugged up the front of her skirts with one hand, revealing two rather long and elegant dove-colored stocking-clad legs. His eyes widened at the gray lace garter on her left thigh, for it secured a glinting Damascus dagger. She reached for it.So, that’s where she kept it.
“Wait,” he said, her intention with the dagger clear, as he himself re-sheathed his own.
Phoebe’s head snapped up. Mortification wiped away some of her fear as she dropped her skirt.
He strode over to the two snakes and lifted them, one in each hand. The reptiles coiled around his hands, their bodies smooth and cold against his skin. One of them struck his hand with its head a few times as Slade carried them over to two large rocks hunkered amid some drying bushes and ferns and released the snakes. No doubt they’d come from some such place. He then made his way back to Fifi and the other two women, who stared at him as if he’d taken leave of his senses.
“Disaster averted, ladies. They are harmless grass snakes in a bad mood because their hibernation was disturbed,” Slade said.
“But you could have been bitten. That was a big risk, handling the little beasties,” Lucia said, her eyes wide.
“I’ve handled worse. One does have to contend with encountering the wild in the wilderness.” Slade chuckled.
Lucia narrowed her eyes at him. Clearly, she did not find his comment amusing in the least. He’d sensed a certain chill in the air ever since the day he’d returned from his meeting with the Harbert and Company agents inBirmingham.And for the life of him, he couldn’t work out why that was.
“We are much obliged, Colonel. Come, ladies, let’s get back to the lodge before we encounter any more beasties,” Lucia said to Fifi and Martha.
Martha followed Lucia towards the lodge, Fifi trailing them.
It occurred to Slade that he needed to discuss their journey to the Highlands with Fifi.
“Fifi, may I have a word?” he called out.
Fifi turned around and eyed him as if she wished for anything but.
“Yes?” The intonation in her voice was almost imperious.
Slade strode towards her as Lucia and her maid disappeared into the lodge. He didn’t know if he was relieved or disappointedFifi had returned to dressing in drab colors and gowns covering her from her neck to her ankles. Today she wore an unremarkable black ensemble, as if she were in mourning. She’d obviously returned Lucia’s dresses. Perhaps it was a good thing. The night of their buffet dinner, he’d had a devil of a time keeping his eyes off her.
“Would you care to join me on a ride? We could explore the moors,” he said, keeping his tone casual.
It was an apropos question since they were already standing by the stables. But the look she gave him, like he’d asked her to skin a live rabbit for dinner, made him clear his throat and rethink his proposal.
“How about joining me in the gaming room then?” he asked.
“Lead the way,” she said, her tone flat.
When they entered the gaming room a few minutes later, she traipsed around the cards table to the farthest side.
He leaned his knuckles against the edge of the table and regarded her. “How fares your aunt’s sick friend?”
When she’d disappeared, he’d had a difficult time extracting details from Lucia. All she had said was Phoebe had left to visit her aunt’s sick friend. If Lucia hadn’t told him—at his insistence—about the coach, its driver and the two capable-looking footmen escorting Fifi, he would have had to go look for her, worried for her safety. He’d been relieved when she’d returned yesterday.
She now eyed him, seeming to take care with her answer.
