“Let us explore,” he said, putting his good arm about her, leading her toward a place where some shrubbery met the sloping roof of the works. “This looks like a likely spot.”

  “Prince, see what you can find,” Ariel urged, ignoring the disbelieving look from Lord Harcourt. “You never know what that dog may uncover unless you try him.”

  Prince nosed about while Ariel enjoyed the closeness to his lordship. It was remarkable that he could even walk today, let alone assist her over rough grasses. Then she observed fine beads of sweat on his brow and knew that it was costing him more than he would admit.

  The dog dug his nose into the grass, snuffling at something, and Ariel at once leaned down to poke about, coming up with a small powder flask of an unusual design. “How odd. My father has one just like this.”

  Chapter Ten

  “This powder flask is unusual in that it is made of silver with a silver-gilt spout,” Lady Ariel pointed out. “Papa bought it in London. I suppose it’s possible there is another just like it.” She studied the powder flask before handing it to Jordan. “I have polished it any number of times for Papa as he does not like the servants to handle it. Not even Cummins. What can this mean?”

  Prince sat up proudly, and if a dog could grin, he grinned.

  “It looks to hold two and a half drams of powder to one ounce of shot,” Jordan murmured, handling the flask with care. “And it means that either someone in Stafford Court was able to get access to it, or that another just like your father’s powder flask exists. And I give leave to doubt that,” he concluded with a meaningful look at Ariel.

  “If Papa’s is missing, I wonder who could have taken it? It should be in his library, in a special case. How frightening to contemplate,” she said with a shiver that had nothing to do with the early morning air.

  “Shall I keep this for the moment?” Jordan said before slipping the flask into a pocket of his coat after a nod from Lady Ariel indicated it was agreeable with her.

  “Yes, do keep it safe for the present. I will be most interested to check Papa’s case to discover if his flask is missing. Although I truly wonder that anyone would be so foolish as to steal such a thing. Will all be gone? The gun, everything?”

  They began strolling to the carriage. Prince pacing at their sides like a guard of old.

  “Fool thing for anyone to do—to take such a distinctive powder flask, much less a gun. It makes me believe that whoever is shooting is someone who does not do so as an occupation. An expert would have plain items.”

  “Oh,” Lady Ariel gasped. “There are such people? Perhaps that is why both you and your cousin were not hit—that is, you were merely winged as it were,” she mused as they returned to the curricle. “Your cousin was missed completely, and had his horse not been spooked he might be alive today.” It seemed to Jordan that the possibility of his cousin still being around didn’t seem to appeal to the lady at his side. At least, she made no sighs, nor did she wipe tears from her lovely gray eyes.

  A man from the brick works came out at that moment to give them a curious look. Jordan paused, then said, “Go to the carriage and wait for me. I would ask a question or two of this man, and he might be hesitant to speak before a lady of quality.”

  “Very well.” Lady Ariel obeyed instantly. Prince trotting at her side after a lingering look at Jordan. Jordan appreciated her lack of argument in this instance, and it was as well that the dog went with her as a sort of protection. Amazing that the dog had proven so worthwhile.

  He approached the workman, hoping that his arm didn’t do anything beyond its present ache, like resume bleeding, for instance. He supposed he ought to be home in bed instead of tearing about the country.

  Ariel watched Lord Harcourt chat with the workman, nodding, gesturing to where they had found the flask, even showing the flask briefly. The man also gestured, shaking his head, but talking at some length before turning to leave. Lord Harcourt made short work of his return to the carriage.

  He looked a trifle pale, and Ariel could see he was grateful to sit down on the carriage seat. Sweat beaded his forehead. She was glad that Prince had hopped into the carriage with no more than encouragement from her. Lord Harcourt was in no condition to be hauling a dog of that size up or down.

  “I must know if you learned anything,” she quietly demanded after setting the carriage forth to the center of Tunbridge Wells.

  “Not much. The chap saw a young man around here about that time yesterday, but he did not pay him much heed. Apparently there was nothing out of the ordinary about whoever was here.”

  Ariel continued to drive into town, baffled at their dilemma. “How can we possibly deal with this when we cannot learn who is behind the shootings?”

  “But we now have the powder flask,” he reminded her.

  “When I return to Stafford, I shall inspect Papa’s case. Since we do not know how it was taken, anyone can be suspect. Correct?” She gave him a brave smile, hoping she did not appear as frightened as she was.

  “Indeed, how very perceptive of you. I see we are approaching Bath Square. Since we are in town, we had best purchase that replacement bonnet for you. Percy was rather chagrinned to discover that he had completely ruined your new bonnet,” Lord Harcourt said, thus changing the subject.

  They left the carriage and horse close by, with Prince sitting a guard on the seat, lord of all he surveyed.

  The same woman was in charge of the hat shop when Ariel and Lord Harcourt entered. She gave them a surprised look until his lordship explained what had happened.

  “That is too bad, my lady,” the woman said. “Sadly, I do not have another just like the one you bought. Perhaps we can find something else that will please?”

  With Lord Harcourt seated on a somewhat dainty gilt chair, the search for another bonnet began.

  It took perhaps half an hour to look through the selection of bonnets, then choose one that both Ariel and Lord Harcourt approved. The rich blue grosgrain was trimmed with cream bands of ribbon and a cluster of short feathers to one side. It was a jaunty cap style, a type Aunt Maitland had deplored as fast—which meant it was the latest thing from London and she was not about to accept it yet. Ariel found it utterly delightful.

  As they left the shop, Ariel turned to Lord Harcourt. “It is kind of Mr. Ponsonby to replace that bonnet.” She fiddled with the ties of the bonnet box a bit, strolling in the direction of the carriage as she spoke. “As tempting as it would be to linger in Tunbridge, I feel it would be best to return to Stafford at once. I will not rest easy until I have looked at that gun case.” Besides, his lordship looked as though he was ready for a good rest.

  “Some other time we will wander about at will,” he promised, assisting her into the carriage with his good arm. He joined her, placing the bonnet box by his feet. Prince eyed the box with disfavor, then scrambled up on the seat between the two people, both of whom gave the animal a dismayed look. He made it a squeeze, for certain.

  Within minutes they had left Tunbridge Wells behind them, passing the brick works with uneasy glances. Ariel guided their carriage through what little traffic there was with surprising skill, then gave the horse its head once the town was behind them.

  “I know there is no one there now, and you have the powder flask, yet I could not help but be uneasy,” Ariel said in a low voice.

  “I confess I felt an apprehension, myself.”

  “You told the others you intended to see Dr. Mayo. Are you certain you did not wish to go there?”

  “No, the man would think I am the malingerer you thought me yesterday. The wound is much improved today.”

  “Sir, this jaunt has taken a great deal out of you, and as soon as we are at Harcourt I beg you to take your ease. Solving the riddle of the shooting can wait another day. And in any event, you may be able to think while on your back in bed.”

  Jordan glanced at the lovely, innocent miss at his side. There were a lot of things he could think of to do while in bed. At this moment, mulling over the would-be killer was not one of them.

  Lady Ariel was indeed a brave young woman. No vapors for her, no Byronic silliness, either. On the other hand, she might not find him in the least appealing, and that thought disturbed him for some odd reason. That he had come to have a regard for this charming woman he set aside for the moment. Of course, there was that look he’d caught in her eyes that told him she cared. How much was another thing.

  A silence fell between them, one heavy with unspoken words and worries.

  Ariel worried about Lord Harcourt. She hoped that few people knew of this expedition to town. Might someone suspect that they found something of vital interest while away? If the would-be assassin learned where they had gone and what they had found, he would not be pleased.

  “Whoever shot at me—and I do not think he intended to hit you, my dear—may be under the authority of someone else. Had you considered that? It might even be an employee, either of Stafford or Harcourt, who bears a grudge or otherwise wants to rub me out for some reason.”

  She gave him a puzzled glance at the unfamiliar expression, then shrugged. If to “rub out” was akin to “do away with,” it was clear what it meant. She shivered at the thought of eliminating someone so completely.

  At that moment a carriage came tearing along from the opposite direction at a speed Ariel found alarming. She hastily guided their curricle to the side of the road as far as possible, slowing, watching to see what that other fool driver might do.

  Prince gave a low growl, but remained fixed between them, alert and intent.

  Jordan placed a warning hand over Ariel’s, stilling any inclination upon her part to panic, although he didn’t think that was likely to be her reaction.

  He was proven right when she held firm, not allowing his horse to bolt or shy.

  “How odd. Did you see who that was?” she said once the mad driver had passed.

  “No one I recognized,” Jordan replied.

  “That was the young fellow who used to work at Stafford Court—the one who left to go to London. It would seem that either he has returned or never left the area. You don’t suppose that he had something to do with all this? That someone hired him to dispose of you? He would be familiar with the layout of the house, for once or twice he brought messages to my aunt.”

  “And what is your conclusion?” Jordan asked quietly, wishing he had the strength to take over the reins. At this point he was doing well to merely sit at her side.

  “I’d not be surprised if he is on the way to the brick works to find the powder flask he left behind. Why else would he be tearing along this road on the way to Tunbridge Wells?” She urged the horse to a trot, disregarding the gentle pace she had kept out of consideration for Lord Harcourt’s wound. “We’d best get home as fast as we can.”

  Within minutes she had them settled at a fast clip. Considering the state of the road, it was as good a speed as Jordan would wish. “You are so sure?”

  “Call it intuition, perhaps. I find it odd that he disappeared after your cousin was shot, and here he is again—right after you have been wounded.”

  Jordan lapsed into an uneasy silence the rest of the mad dash. When they reached the gate to Harcourt, he gave a relieved sigh. “Take the carriage around to the stables. Cotman can take you home. I imagine you are exhausted.”

  “It was a strain, yes. I’ve never driven like that in my life.” She bestowed an exhilarated smile on him. Obviously, she was not a woman to panic easily. Her air of animation stirred him; he felt stimulated just to be with her in spite of his wound and needing rest.

  She eased the tired horse into a gentle walk around to the stables. There was no one in sight, not even a face at a window. Prince leaped down from the carriage, obviously intent upon a cool comer of the stable.

  Jordan didn’t know where everyone was, but he decided to take advantage of it. He turned to the valiant young woman at his side, and reached out his good hand to touch her chin lightly before placing a gentle kiss on her tempting lips. They more than tempted him. He would have liked nothing better than to explore the matter more deeply when he reminded himself where they were.

  “Oh,” she whispered, drawing back to stare into his eyes, somewhat bewildered—yet he sensed an awakened awareness of him as a man. No words poured forth, the kiss apparently rendering her speechless.

  Then the stable yard suddenly turned to bedlam. Cotman erupted from the stable interior; a young groom burst forth from the gate to the field. Mrs. Longwood came bustling from the house with a furrowed brow, looking ready to give a scold. At his side, Ariel sat as though carved in stone.

  “I will not apologize for that—it was delightful. And it was by way of thanks—for the moment. You are not angry with me?” Jordan touched her lightly on her hand, offering consolation if need be.

  “How could I be, sirrah? I have led you a merry chase when you should have been abed. I suspect that had Mr. Ponsonby have driven you, the situation would have been a bit better; you’d have nabbed that mad driver. No apology is required.” She gazed into his eyes as though memorizing them, then turned aside to accept Cotman’s help from the carriage, taking her hatbox with her. The groom assisted Jordan down, then led the exhausted horse away to be royally cosseted.

  “My lord, I cannot believe my eyes. I thought you still in bed,” Mrs. Longwood chided. “And here I kept everyone as mute as fish.”

  “I am going there at once,” Jordan said, thinking that perhaps being flat on his back would be a good thing. “We had a small errand. Cotman, see that Lady Ariel gets home, will you?” He half turned toward the house to see Percy.

  “I can do that, Harcourt,” Percy said as he marched up to where they stood. He had driven into the stable yard while the others had clustered about the curricle. Now he stood by the carriage, giving Jordan a concerned look. “I trust you will have a tale to tell me when I return?”

  “One you will find hard to believe,” Jordan said, suddenly very weary. He turned to Lady Ariel, taking her hand in his regardless of the audience around them. “Again, I thank you for all you did. I know it was not a simple matter. Now, take care once you are at home. I do not think you need worry about... anything, but proceed with caution.” He slipped the powder flask into her hand in the process and without a blink of an eye, she palmed it as neat as wax. No one could have noticed a thing.

  “I promise,” she said softly, gazing at Jordan with concern. “Off to bed, you hear?”

  He chuckled at that. “I hear and obey.”

  “For once in your life, I’ll wager,” she said softly before turning to join Percy in the carriage he had taken when he went to call on Celia Townsend.

  Percy whisked Ariel off to the main road and up to Stafford Court, asking questions every yard of the way.

  “If Lord Harcourt is still awake when you return, you may learn something from him. I think it prudent for me not to say anything, particularly here.” She gestured to the land lining the avenue leading to the main house. There were clusters of tall shrubs dotting the verge behind which anyone might hide and overhear what was said. “Perhaps I am being overly cautious?” Ariel said quietly with a hesitant smile.

  “I doubt it. You appear to have a sound head on your shoulder—which is more than I can say for most young women I have met. Miss Townsend is another sensible woman. Fancy, beauty and sensibleness all in one nice package!”

  “I am glad she pleases you. Lord Harcourt told me that you are a good judge of people, especially ladies. I think Celia Townsend is matchless, but I speak as a friend who has known her forever. How nice to have an elegant gentleman from London agree with my opinion.”

  Percy straightened and even preened a trifle as they reached the main house. Ariel immediately exited the carriage, hatbox in hand. “No, do not get down, there is no one about to help with the horse. I shall see you later, I expect. Lord Harcourt insists he wants to attend that assembly in Tunbridge Wells!”

  “We shall see how he mends. Lady Ariel,” Percy responded.

  “Yes,” she said, sobering. “That we shall see. Do let us know how he does.” She watched as he wheeled about and took off down the avenue as though hounds chased him.

  Taking her bonnet box in hand, she approached the house. The silver powder flask was safely in her reticule, slipped in when Mr. Ponsonby was occupied with his driving. Now all she had to do was transport it carefully to her room. Since Aunt Maitland rarely appeared there, she should have time in which to conceal it.

  “Welcome, my lady,” Cummins said in a barely audible rumble. “I trust you wish to take your new hat to your room at once?” he suggested after glancing at her box. “May I suggest you prepare for a quizzing when you come back down for nuncheon?”

  “Why, thank you. Cummins. I left so early that I did not wish to disturb my aunt. My bonnet was destroyed in that melee yesterday. Mr. Ponsonby kindly insisted he replace it for me.” If she could convince Cummins, he would persuade the rest of the staff.

  Once in her room, she set the bonnet box on her bed, then paused to consider the best place to hide the powder flask. Where could she put it that Merry, her curious maid, might not stumble on it? Or anyone else? Would someone dare to enter her room to prowl about, looking to see if the flask was in her possession?

  While she doubted it, she did not wish to take chances. In the end she tucked it beneath the shawl she rarely used except at Christmas. She had no better idea for the nonce.

  She was in the act of brushing out her curls when Merry entered in a rush.

  “There you are, my lady. Cummins said as how you returned looking a bit windblown.” There was more than a hint of question in her voice. Ariel elected to ignore it.

  “Indeed, the wind does have that effect. I had best hurry down to Aunt Maitland. Cummins said she is in the breakfast room.”

  “Oh, yes, she is and waiting for you, unless I miss my guess,” Merry replied, opening the bonnet box to remove the blue hat. “Oh, my lady, this is very pretty!”

 

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