“We’ll both keep watch.”
***
HE COULDN’T SEE LUCY, but he could hear her. She didn’t move, but every three minutes or so, she sighed. He understood her impatience. Now that it was hours past noon, the day was warm and insects buzzed about. The nettles under them scratched and the leaves above their heads were pointed and tended to poke him in the face. In the distance, thunder rumbled, and the air had turned wet and humid. Rain was coming.
Worst of all, no one and nothing had come along the drive. He’d expected to see Vanderville hours ago. Was the man waiting until nightfall? Was he not coming?
Duncan had expected the man to come in the daylight, hide in the summer house or the surrounding woods, and attack at dark. It was too easy to drive off the road in the dark of Richmond Park. He would have to hide the coach further away at night as it was quieter, and sound traveled.
But surely, he had a place already picked out. He’d come to meet Ada at the summerhouse before, so he must have made the trek at least once and most likely more than that. He and Lucy had walked the drive several times looking for a spot to mount their surveillance, and they hadn’t seen anywhere a coach might have rested. Rains might wash away the tracks from the drive, but it couldn’t repair broken branches or grass eaten by horses.
Would Vanderville have left his coach further away? They were a half mile from the lodge now. and it would be another quarter mile, give or take, to the summerhouse. A man like that would not be used to walking so far.
Duncan pictured the summerhouse. Was there a place near it that he might have hidden the coach? He imagined walking the grounds of the summerhouse. He’d been there enough that he knew nothing around it was disturbed by horses or carriage wheels. So if he hadn’t left his coach there then where?
Duncan went very cold.
What if the man hadn’t taken a coach at all?
He pushed out of his hiding place. “Lucy, we have to go.” A rain drop landed on his forehead, and he wiped it away. The action was an exercise in futility as another fell and took its place.
Lucy made a sound and struggled out of the undergrowth a yard or so away. “It gives me no pleasure to say this, but we should give it at least another hour. One of us should probably stay until night—”
“He’s not coming by coach.” Duncan bent to gather his things. “Get the canteen. We need to go to the summerhouse.Now.”
“But if he’s not coming by coach then...” Duncan glanced at her and saw her face go very white. “I can’t believe I didn’t think of it.”
“I didn’t either.”
“Of course.” A rain drop landed on her dark lashes. “That’s why they met at the summerhouse. It’s close to the river. He’s coming by boat.”
“He might be there already.”
“No.” She said the word almost as though she could somehow control Vanderville’s actions. “Johnny.” The anguished sound of her voice made Duncan wince. Of course, it wasn’t Vanderville she cared about. It was the little boy she feared for.
She started running, and Duncan abandoned their supplies and followed. With his long legs, he caught up to her easily. She was fast, and he matched his stride to hers.
The sky was dark now, the clouds having piled one on top of the other to block out the sun. Lightning flashed above them, and the rain pelted down in a steady stream now. They didn’t bother running alongside the drive. They ran down the middle, Lucy cutting toward the summerhouse at the end. They might have taken the well-worn path, but it was faster to cut through the unkept garden Lord John called the Wilderness. Duncan tried to push branches out of his way. With the rain and the clouds overhead, the Wilderness was dark, almost as dark as night, and he held his hands up to avoid the slap of a twig or running headlong into a low-hanging limb. Lucy made sounds of discomfort and stumbled once. He caught her elbow before she could take a spill, and then they were both up and running again.
As they neared the edge of the Wilderness, they slowed. Lucy crouched down, making her way toward the slivers of gray in the clearing. Duncan stood a few feet away, watching her back, listening for the sound of oars. But with the rain slapping the water of the river and the distant sounds of rumbling thunder, he couldn’t hear anything.
A moment later, Lucy took his hand. He could hardly see her, but he bent so he might hear her without her having to shout. “I see a boat,” she said. Her hand went to his shoulder, and he didn’t think the contact was intentional. She was merely trying to locate him in the shadows. Nor did she have any control over the way she smelled. He could detect that hint of cinnamon mixed with the acrid smell of lightning and the crisp scent of rain. “It’s tied to the dock, but I don’t see any men.”
Duncan put a hand on her back and pressed to let her know he wanted to speak. She stood still while he leaned close to her ear. “Is it a one-man vessel or big enough for several men?”
She was shaking with the cold. He was too, come to think of it, but he doubted she felt the discomfort any more than he. They had both learned to become numb to the elements when on a mission. Still, he had the desire to pull her close, wrap her in his arms, keep her safe and warm.
“He couldn’t have piloted it himself,” she said in answer to his question. “We should fan out and search for Vanderville and his men.”
“I’ll go to the east and you take the west. Meet at the lodge.”
She hesitated. “What if they went straight to the lodge?”
“And attempt to hurt the boy with his parents and all the servants about? Unlikely. He’ll find a place to hide and wait until dark.”
“Why not the summerhouse?”
Damn but perhaps the cold had muddled his brain—except he knew it was more likely being so close to Lucy. “You’re right. We search there first. I’ll take this side and you take the other.”
