“They cannot hope to succeed,” Grant said.
Fury eyed him, the expression in his black eyes difficult to read. “I can’t imagine what they think they’ll achieve by it, can you?”
“No. But as I’ve bought shares in the company that have fallen sharply now, I have a vested interest in finding out.”
Fury raised his black eyebrows. “Ah, I see. Don’t have them myself. Prefer more solid, reliable companies, although these days….” He shrugged. “Did you wish to ride out and inspect the damage? I could escort you. The railway workers have almost finished the repairs. They will be fixed by tomorrow, but for how long…” He shrugged again.
“Then there doesn’t seem much point.” Grant stood. “Thank you for seeing me.”
“You have a fair ride ahead, if you are going to your family estate, which lies near York, does it not?”
Grant nodded. “Yes. But first I have business in Harrogate. I fear I may have to spend the night there. I’m unfamiliar with that town. You couldn’t recommend a good inn?”
“I know the landlord of The Rabbit and Fox. I stay there on occasion. It’s well run.”
“Would you be so kind as to furnish me with his name, and a rough map with the directions? I should be most grateful.”
Fury paused, then crossed to the door. He returned a few minutes later and handed Grant a piece of bond with a crude map and the information he requested.
“Kind of you,” Grant said. He bowed to Miss Fury, who had not uttered a word since her brother arrived. “Good day to you, Miss Fury. I am glad to see you feeling better.”
“Thank you, sir. I have completely recovered from the chill.” She dropped into a curtsey, hiding her face from Grant, but not before he caught a look of alarm in her gray eyes.
Fury cast him a sidelong glance but made no comment.
A groom was waiting with Ares when Grant quitted the house. He’d learnt nothing to please Black, but the back of his neck prickled. He’d found it a reliable sign in the past. Something was not right here.
When he’d ridden far enough away to be unseen from the house, he stopped and removed both the map and Haighton’s threatening letter from his pocket. Fury had been in London when Haighton was shot, but that did not discount his involvement. The rough outlines of the map and the proprietor’s name, William Hobbs at the Rabbit and Fox Inn, was not enough to be sure they were written by the same hand. Comparing the cursive sweep of the ‘W’, ‘H’ and ‘I’,he sawit was possible, but hardly conclusive. Grant tucked them back into the pocket of his greatcoat and rode on.
Chapter Nineteen
“SO, THIS IS your dog,Wolf?” His Grace asked, his eyebrows forming peaks. Wolf came to lick the duke’s hand. “What breed is he?”
“Wolf is a Tweed Water Spaniel. The breed originated from Northumberland where he comes from. My father had one as a boy.” Mercy swallowed. She was so nervous her mouth was dry.
“Not part wolf then? You’re an extraordinary lookin’ fellow,” His Grace said with a chuckle.
Panting furiously, Jasper and Julian left their baskets by the drawing room fire to investigate, wagging their tails and jumping up at the interesting visitor. Wolf took it in good part. “Sit Wolf,” Mercy commanded and the dog obeyed.
“He’s well-mannered at least.”
Mercy drew in a deep breath. “Wolf is only unrestrained when someone attacks me.”
“And does that happen often?” His Grace asked with the outrageous twinkle appearing in his eyes.
Mercy giggled. “No.”
“Sit down sweet girl, you look fit to explode. I like your dog,” the aged man said. “Shall we have a game of whist?”
“Oh yes. Shall I pour you a glass of burgundy first, Your Grace?”
He took up the cards. “Yes, you do it so prettily. My footman’s nose is quite out of joint.”
As he dealt he eyed her. “Perhaps we’ll see Grant home before nightfall.”
Mercy went to the drink’s table where a bottle of red wine had been left to breathe. Her stomach clenched. “I hope so.”
“You have been remarkably patient. I’m not sure my grandson deserves it.”
