The stablemaster had given a last known address, but it had taken Henry three visits to three different places before he had managed to track the driver down. Kelvin Oxlade had not been in good condition, driving a cart at London’s docks, clearly half-starved and impoverished.
But the manhadbeen willing to impart what he knew, perhaps to spite the ‘gentleman’ who had released him from steady employment.
“I tried telling him at the time,”Kelvin had said gruffly.“Said to His Lordship that it wasn’t my driving that caused it. I didn’t come off the road because I lost control. We came off the road because we were being chased and I was doing my best to get Miss Carter to safety. I’d have done anything to keep her from harm, Your Grace. I swear it on my life.”
“Who was chasing you?”Henry had asked, feeling a surge of pity for the man.
“Can’t rightly say, as I didn’t see them properly,”Kelvin had answered with a frown, as if he had asked himself the same question many times before.“They were waiting on the road. I swerved the carriage to get past ‘em and managed that, but then they started riding after us and a carriage isn’t as fast as two unhitched horses. I admit that I did lose control when the wheel hit a ditch, but onlybecausewe were in danger. I wasn’t drunk like His Lordship claimed I was. I never drink.”
“And when the carriage overturned, what happened then?”Henry had pressed, growing more suspicious of Gibbs Carter, Thalia’s father, with every word the driver had said.
Kelvin shrugged.“I was thrown and got knocked out for a while, but when I came to, there was no one there. The riders had gone and Miss Carter was inside the carriage, right where I left her. Unharmed. A bit dizzy, a bit dazed, and there was a bit of a bruise on her head and some scratches and that, but alive and untouched by those brigands.”
“Did they say anything to you at any point?”
Kelvin had paused for a moment, scrunching his eyes and scratching his chin.“They did, as it happens. When I saw ‘em in the road. They told me to stand and deliver, and no one would get hurt, but I don’t recall seeing any pistols. I think that’s why I went around them. If they’d had pistols, I might have gone right through them.”
“Sounds like highwaymen,” Luke said, peering over Owen’s shoulder to read the account that Henry had taken from the driver.
“Sounds like, maybe. Were they? That cannot be assured,” Owen replied, his eyes skimming over a few of the additional notes that Henry had made. “All a bit too coincidental, if you ask me.”
Henry nodded. “My thoughts exactly.”
“What do you mean?” Luke leaped over the back of the settee and settled down beside Owen.
“Why would they be waiting on that stretch of road?” Owen said. “From what I can glean here, it was late at night when Her Grace set out from Farhampton. This note here says that her brother was at the Maybrook crossroads, so the ‘accident’ took place somewhere between the two. Why would a highwayman wait there, where no one is likely to pass by? The crossroads, I could understand, but that Farhampton road is barely used.”
Henry clawed a hand through his hair. “It is almost as if those ‘highwaymen’ knew that someone would be coming.”
“And they were not visibly armed,” Owen added, for Luke’s benefit. “They disappeared when the carriage overturned without taking anything. Kenneth did not mention seeing anyone passhimby when he rode to see where his sister might be. So, the riders went the opposite way, back toward Farhampton, having gained nothing though the driver and HerGrace were in no position to fight back. For a brigand, it makes no sense whatsoever.”
Expelling a breath, Henry sighed. “I am glad that you do not think I have simply gone mad, making mountains out of molehills. That first accident, at the very least, was no accident.”
“No, I do not think it was,” Owen agreed, his eyes narrowing at the pages of Henry’s writing.
It was a greater relief than Henry knew how to put into words, to see in his friend’s eyes that he had not taken leave of his senses. The first accident wasnota coincidence, and he doubted the second was, either, though that was harder to navigate. Harder to explain. Impossible to prove.
“I could investigate further if you like?” Owen said.
Henry gave an appreciative nod. “Thank you.”
Owen walked through the world differently to his two friends. Where Henry always had to consider his reputation, ever conscious of ensuring that nothing stained it, Owen’s reputation allowed him to do whatever he pleased. Society had fashioned an opinion of him due to his scars, and his intimidating demeanor opened countless doors, for fear was a potent motivator.
Luke, on the other hand, charmed his way through life. That, too, was not without benefit.
“I can help,” Luke said with an encouraging smile. “People like to talk around me. If I ask the right questions, perhaps they will reveal something.”
Henry reached across and set down another piece of paper, crumpled from being folded over so many times. “As I will be otherwise engaged for a while, taking care of my wife, might you look into these names for me?”
“Is this not one of your business associates?” Owen asked with a raised eyebrow, reading the list of potential suspects that Henry had penned.
“He was,” Henry replied, grimacing. “He could not pay his part of a large investment last year, so was written out of the contract. A contract that has since turned into a veritable fortune. It would be enough of a motive.”
They went back and forth down the list of names, Henry explaining his reasoning for putting them there, while Owen and Luke listened. By the end of it, only two names had been crossed off the list of twelve, after Henry’s friends had found his suspicions to flimsy at best, ridiculous at worst. Still, that left ten people for Owen and Luke to investigate. Seven, if Henry did not include the three that he meant to investigate himself.
“If I may,” Luke said, as he got up to pour brandy for the trio, “I have a concern about the majority of those that Owen and I will be pursuing.”
“Go on,” Henry replied.
