Her brother grasped her arm and she stopped with a frustrated exhale. She turned to him and saw that some of the earlier alcoholic glaze had dissipated from his brown eyes. She was thankful for that at least. Perhaps he might see reason after all. “I’ll grab my things.”
She considered leaving without waiting for him but she had never been able to deny him anything. The responsibility that continued to flow through her veins was a true hindrance.
He disappeared into his room and then returned a short time later carrying a bag. “I’m ready.” She nodded sharply, intent on putting as much distance between them and Mr. Porter, but her brother’s next words made her pause. “I’m sorry. About everything.”
Fleur wanted to believe him. She really did. But she’d heard the contrite note to his voice before. And expected to hear it again. Unfortunately, it was too late for apologies as the damage she’d always worried about had finally occurred. “Let’s not talk of it anymore. Time is not on our side.”
Together they quickly made their way to the stable yard of the Coach and Horses where she encountered Daniel. He frowned when he saw them. Before he could speak, Fleur said, “We need two horses made ready as soon as you can make them able.” She glanced at Flavian. “We need to get to London tonight.”
With a heavy sigh, the stablemaster nodded. “I see.”
Fleur followed him inside the stable as he got to work. Flavian walked over to the other side and sat down on a bale of hay to wait. “I will send the horses back as soon as I’m able,” she promised.
Daniel shook his head as he set the sidesaddle on the docile mare. “Are you sure there’s no other option for you?”
She wished she could say yes. “Not after what happened this afternoon.”
He paused in his task. “I would have stopped him if I’d known what was happening.”
“I know you would have,” she whispered, emotion starting to clog her throat. “But it’s done now. There is no use wishing for a different outcome.” She glanced toward the pub and shivered. “Something tells me Mr. Porter is not the sort of man to absolve such a debt, so this is the path I must traverse. What I make at the orphanage will not gain me the sort of funds I could earn in London.”
As Daniel ensured the mare was ready, he walked over to a gelding and started to make him ready for the journey. “I fear you are the only one who has drawn the losing hand this round.”
Fleur tried not to allow his words to affect her but he was right. “I love my brother.” It was a weak explanation but it was all she had to offer. “He is my only family. I can’t let something happen to him if I might find a way to prevent it.”
“It still isn’t right,” Daniel said firmly as he led both horses by their bridles.
Flavian walked over and kept his head down in shame as he mounted, but Fleur made sure to embrace the man who had become a friend to her. “You can do what you will with our fencing attire. I won’t be needing it after tonight.”
With Daniel’s assistance, she got into the saddle. With one last watery glance at the man and the town of Greenwich, Fleur headed out into the darkness with her brother right beside her.
* * *
Mr. Porter glancedat his pocket watch. It read precisely nine o’clock and Miss Davies had yet to appear for their appointed meeting.
He sipped on the black coffee and told himself that she was running late. And yet, the rational side of thought told him that she wasn’t in the habit of tardiness. The hard truth was that she wasn’t coming. She had lied when he had expected better of her. She had seemed the honorable sort of woman but he should have known there wasn’t such a thing as a woman who kept her promises. He’d come across too many of them to believe any of the venom that they spewed out of their mouths.
Setting his cap on his head, he flipped a coin onto the table for his drink and headed out to the stable yard. He considered going directly to the woman’s house and confronting her there. But again, his instincts were telling him that would be a fool’s errand.
He walked into the stables and spied a young dark-haired man brushing down a rather impressive black Destrier stallion. “Very nice lines,” Drake noted.
The man glanced up and offered a nod. “He is one of the best we’ve housed here for some time.”
“Indeed.” Drake didn’t bother to point out that the fine horseflesh washis. He looked about the stable and then moved a bit closer. “It seems to me that there is not very many horses housed here at all. It seemed more yesterday.”
Drake watched him carefully and saw the way he lowered his head as if to concentrate on his task rather than evade the query with a blatant untruth. “I can’t say. The pub has many customers that pass through. I just take care of what is here.” He set the brush aside. “If you don’t mind, I need to speak with the blacksmith about?—”
In a swift movement, Drake had his dagger poised at the man’s throat. “Actually, Idomind.” The Adam’s apple bobbed beneath his blade and the steel nicked the man’s throat. A shame. He didn’t intend to cause him any harm. Or not much so long as he told him what he wanted to know. “What is your name?”
The stable master didn’t move. “Daniel.”
Drake lifted a brow. “No last name?” When Daniel remained stubbornly silent, he gave a mocking snort. “I suppose it doesn’t signify.” He looked him directly in the eye. “I don’t suppose you are familiar with Flavian Davies and his enchanting sister, are you?”
The opposing gaze flicked with recognition. “It’s a modest village. Most of us are known to one another.”
Drake wasn’t sure if he was intending to cast him in a dark shadow as an outsider but he understood stubbornness when faced with it. He flashed his gaze. “I understand you might consider the siblings your friends but Mr. Davies has absconded with something of mine. I assume you are aware of the game that took place yesterday?”
The man lifted a brow as if to question what the point of this inquisition was.
