If He's Noble (Wherlocke #7)

As they dined on the rabbit he related a few of the more humorous tales concerning his family. It pleased him when the sadness brought on by recalling how few of her family were left began to fade from her eyes. It was a heavy weight she carried on her slim shoulders. Bened began to realize that, for the first time in his life, he actually wanted to hurt a woman. He wanted to put a bullet in Augusta Wootten.

He also noted that Primrose showed no concern or fear during his tales of his family when he mentioned various gifts each possessed. She was curious, even fascinated, at times but never showed a hint of fear. Even in this enlightened age that was rare.

“Do you have your pistol?” Bened asked Primrose.

“I do. Loaded and close at hand. Do you need it?”

“Nay. Have my own, my rifle, my sword, and a few knives.” He grinned at her look of surprise. “I always travel well armed.” He stood up and brushed off his backside. “I need to go and look about but wished to be certain you were still armed.”

“Look about for what?”

“Any sign of your aunt and her hirelings. I need to know if they are following us since we had the brief problem with the man while on the road, or if we are just keeping apace with them. Are they in front or behind? Will you be fine waiting here? I will not be long.”

“Go. I will be fine,” she said, hoping he could not sense the lie.

The moment he disappeared into the night’s shadows, she felt the fear begin its slow climb into her heart and mind. It was an old fear, one from childhood that had never faded, was only strengthened when she had become lost in the woods and unable to find her way back to the manor. That had been an odd event for no one, not even her, could understand how she had ended up so deep in the woods between the manor and the church cemetery, or who might have led her there. Fright had stolen her voice and, some feared, her mind. For days she could not even sleep in her own bed, the room too dark, and she would slip down to her father’s or Simeon’s room to curl up on the floor next to their beds. That had faded, eased enough so that she returned to sleeping in her own room again, but now she wondered yet again who had caused her to suffer so.

It was becoming apparent that there were a lot of puzzles and unanswered questions about her past, a lot of very large holes in her memory. Primrose knew that many people recalled little of their childhood but surely one should recall the things that left one with a strong fear, a lingering pain, or some other thing that had caused a fierce emotion. She stared into the fire and decided she needed to dig out some of those memories. Something told her they could be very important now.





Bened searched the ground and frowned. Someone had died here and it had been a bloody death. There had been three men standing behind one. That one had struggled but so briefly that Bened had a good idea of how he was killed. Someone comes up from behind, gets a tight grip on him by his hair or collar, yanks his head back, and cuts his throat. Quick, efficient, and bloody. It could explain what had brought him to this spot to look for signs of their enemy. He had seen the ravens around before the sun set, and ravens and death went together like men and women. Somewhere nearby there was a body. He moved carefully in a straight line from where he had found the blood and paused to study some more prints in the ground. A woman had stood there while the killing was done, just close enough to have been splattered by blood.

A few steps more and he found the tracks of a carriage. It had drawn up, sat in place just long enough to make its marks in the ground deep enough to remain for a few days. Bened could easily envision the scene, as easily as if it had been drawn for him by a skilled artist.

Augusta had come here to meet with some of her hirelings, bringing a new crew with her. They had all waited but only one of the previous men had appeared. Bened suspected who it was and wondered if the man’s last thought had been how he should have heeded his friends. The new slew the old while Augusta watched. It was a good way to let the new hirelings understand how she rewarded failure. Now he just had to find the body.