Dickie nodded. “So doing what we’re doing now—assessing where along each road we’ll be able to ask our questions—will allow us to act more quickly tomorrow and hopefully get the answers we need.”
“Exactly,” Nicholas said.
On that quietly rousing note, they headed out to reclaim their mounts.
Addie rushed to use the mounting block; she remained wary of the way her senses betrayed her whenever Nicholas got too close, and him placing his hands about her waist and lifting her to her saddle definitely qualified.
The others quickly mounted, and in a group, they clattered out of the yard, then separated, each heading for the road they were to assess.
Most headed south or east, but Nicholas turned his horse northward, and she followed suit.
Nicholas led the way up the road, following signs to Riseholme, but they didn’t need to go as far as the village before they were in open country again. Although the businesses they passed were closing or already shut, they noted a jobbing stable and a blacksmith’s, both fronting the road, and beyond the last cottages on the town’s outskirts, they found evidence that suggested a culvert was in the process of being repaired.
Nicholas dismounted and scrambled down the bank bordering the road to take a closer look at the site. After assessing progress, he climbed back. “It looks like the workers will return tomorrow.”
Adriana nodded. “And no rider could come this way without them noticing.”
“Indeed.” Nicholas swung up and settled in his saddle. “As far as this road goes, that gives us enough places to ask tomorrow and be certain of getting a definitive answer.” He stood in his stirrups and scanned the area ahead, then sank back to his saddle and pointed up the road and to the left. “One of the ostlers told me that lane will take us across to the Burton road. If we ride across and go back into town along that route, we can investigate it as well.”
Adriana dipped her head in agreement, and together, they rode on.
The sun was sliding down the western sky when they reached the road to Burton and turned southward, riding toward Lincoln once more.
A cattle yard and two competing carters’ yards located on opposite sides of the road looked to be their best chances of securing information the next morning, and closer to the center of the town, they found another jobbing stable.
As they walked their horses along the street toward the Turk’s Head, Nicholas said, “Given tomorrow is a half day for most, we’ll likely do better to ride this route in reverse.” He glanced at Adriana. “Out via the road to Burton, then across via the lane and back to the inn via the Riseholme road.”
She nodded. “That will give us the best chance of finding the right people to ask.”
They turned in under the inn’s archway and saw Jed and Young Gillies already back and waiting.
Nicholas dismounted and handed Tamerlane’s reins to Young Gillies, then went to Adriana’s side and, when she realized and quickly freed her boot from the stirrup, he closed his hands about her slender waist and lifted her down.
Her boots met the ground, and he told himself to release her. It still took an appreciable length of time between his mind issuing the directive and his hands obeying. That moment of fraught tension on the previous night rushed into his mind; it was something neither he nor she had moved to address in any way, but now was neither the place nor the time.
As his hands fell from her and they stepped apart, Dickie came trotting into the yard, followed by Rory and Mike.
With everyone back, Nicholas suggested they convene about the map in the parlor and share their news, then plan for the next morning before settling to their dinners.
Everyone agreed, and they were soon in the parlor, gathered about the table and poring over the map. They took turns noting the businesses or work sites they’d identified along each road at which, on the morrow, they hoped to find people who could tell them whether The Barbarian had passed by.
Nicholas straightened. “Either way—a definite yes or a definite no—will get us farther.”
Of the ten roads fanning outward from the town’s center, not even the one along which they’d ridden into town could be deemed clear. He studied the map. “We’ve lost too much time not to be thorough.” He glanced around, meeting the others’ eyes. “Unless we get a definite answer—yes or no—we’ll need to continue along each road until we can definitively state that the thief took it or that he didn’t.”
The others nodded their understanding.
“As for the road we assumed he used to reach the town”—Nicholas glanced at Dickie and Rory, who, tomorrow, were slated to cover that road—“we need proof positive that he did, indeed, arrive in Lincoln.”
Everyone grimaced, realizing that, if that proof did not eventuate, then all their searching would be the equivalent of a wild-goose chase.
“That said,” Nicholas went on, “there’s no sense in the rest of us wasting the day.” He glanced at the others. “We’ll search the roads out while Dickie and Rory cover the road in. That will be the best use of our hours.”
They discussed times and agreed to leave as soon as businesses opened in the morning, then reconvene at the inn after one o’clock, when most businesses would be closed and the workers heading home.
“We can share what we learn over luncheon,” Nicholas concluded. “With any luck, we’ll have a positive sighting to follow, but regardless, we’ll need to plan our next steps.”
He tried to make the declaration encouraging; he’d noted that both Sommerville siblings were growing dispirited. He was starting to understand their characters, Adriana’s especially. She was impulsive and inclined to be reckless, and Impatient was her middle name.
