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After she locked the door, they walked briskly down the street and around the corner to the livery stable. Cameron arranged to board the horse for the next several days, then disappeared inside the hay-scented building to retrieve his mount.
Casey followed as he saddled his horse, a leggy and unbeautiful chestnut. “I assume you didn’t buy him to impress other riders in the park.”
Cameron laughed as he swiftly saddled his mount. “Arthur sneers at park-sauntering horses. He’s built for speed and stamina. I bought him at a horse fair when he was just an unpromising looking colt, but I had a feeling about him.”
She patted Arthur’s neck. “And for gifted people, feelings matter.”
Her companion chuckled. “Exactly.” He led Arthur outside and swung into the saddle. Looking down at Casey, he said, “I should have asked if you have experience with horses. Will you be all right balancing behind the saddle?”
She nodded. “I loved riding and had my own pony before I was thrown out of my home.” She sighed. “I missed my pony far more than my home, actually.”
Eyes sympathetic, Cam extended his hand to her. She clasped it and he easily pulled her up so she could settle behind him on Arthur’s rump. Since she wore trousers she was able to ride astride, but even so she realized that she’d have to hold on to Cameron in order to stay on the horse.
She tentatively set her hands on his waist and he set Arthur off toward the dockyard. Her grasp tightened as they began moving. Cameron had a firm, strong, masculine body, and she admitted that she liked having an excuse to touch him.
He called over his shoulder, “Are you managing well?”
“Yes! I love being on a horse again.” Riding was one of the many things she’d lost when her father had cast her off. She’d buried that pleasure along with all the difficult memories of her childhood. It was good to remember it now.
“I presume I’ll have to check in with the yard’s gate guards,” Cameron said. “It’s been a while since I visited, but I remember that the yard is huge.”
“Even larger than you remember,” she said. “Now that the war has resumed, the navy needs new ships as fast as we can build them, and Chatham is the largest shipbuilder in Britain.”
“Can you sense if Sir Samuel is in his office?”
She liked that he was gently encouraging her to test her abilities. She closed her eyes, which made her even more aware of the fact that she was holding on to him, and tried to focus on Sir Samuel, holding an image of him in her mind. “I don’t think he is,” she said uncertainly.
“We’ll know soon.”
It was a short ride to the dockyard, whose solid buildings spread for over a mile along the River Medway. Clusters of masts rose from the water like a stark wintry forest. As Casey had said, when they reached the impressive main gate the guards recognized her, and Cameron’s Home Office credentials got him admitted easily.
As they rode onto the main road that ran the length of the dockyard, Cam said, “Now for your office building. Is it close enough to walk, or should we ride?”
She made a face. “With this icy wind off the river, better to ride.”
It took only a few minutes to reach the building that contained all the offices. As they approached, he asked, “If Sir Samuel isn’t there, do you know where he might be?”
“Somewhere in the yard, I think, but I’m not sure where.”
Cam laid his left hand over hers where it clasped his waist. “Does sharing energy help?”
She gasped at the warmth and sense of power that swept through her. After reveling in that for a few moments, she focused her attention on Sir Samuel again. The image in her mind immediately sharpened. “He’s definitely not in the office. He’s in … the smithy, I think. He’s been spending time there because he’s commissioned a much larger smithy to be built for the iron ships that will be coming soon.”
“Very good!” Cameron said. “Can you sense anything more about him?”
She gave a sudden gasp and her grip on Cameron’s waist tightened. “His life is in danger right now!”
She felt a shift in Cameron’s energy and realized that her easygoing companion had transformed into a warrior. “Which way to the smithy?” he snapped.
“Straight ahead and then right on the second cross street!”
“Hold on!” He kicked his mount into a fast canter and they began racing down the yard’s main road. She almost slid off when he accelerated, but she managed to keep her seat by grabbing harder at his waist and locking her legs around the horse.
He expertly dodged wagons and workers until she raised her voice and said, “This next right turn!”
He obeyed, slowing because the street was narrower and more crowded. As they neared the end of the cross street, she said, “That long building ahead is the smithy.”
“Is he in there?”
