Beyond a Doubt

chapter Forty




The afternoon spent in the park was both wonderful and depressing. Wonderful in the sense that their relationship grew with each passing moment, depressing in the sense no one appeared who could perhaps be the new contact.

Although most of Lucy’s attention was focused on Bryce, she also managed to scan the grassy fields for passersby wearing familiar signs. For one in particular, that of the compass.

Each special member of their Huguenot movement received a small compass that they kept on their person as identification. Normally the item was worn, sometimes as a necklace or as cuff links. It was the only sign Lucy knew to look for.

As the afternoon waxed on and Bryce gathered their things back into the basket, an uneasy feeling descended. With a turn of her neck and a swoosh of her hair, Lucy caught a man paying them an undue amount of attention.

With a smile on her face, Lucy whispered to Bryce, “Don’t look now, but we have a watcher.”

“Is it yer contact?”

“I don’t believe so. Let’s pack our stuff and head for home, and see what happens.”

For the entire trip, Lucy squeezed Bryce’s arm. Even though this made Bryce aware of her turmoil, she knew there was little he could do. Covert glances revealed the stranger still followed. Behind a corner of a building, peeking out from a carriage, everywhere they tried to hide, the man could still be seen. At one point he seemed to leave them and head down an alley. Lucy released a pent-up breath yet the relief was short-lived, as the man once again appeared only a few steps behind them.

They reached the front steps of Lucy’s home but Bryce held back. “We did close the door, didn’t we?”

“Aye,” she whispered.

Bryce led the way inside, slowly pushing the already-ajar door further open. A rush of air escaped his throat. “Lucy, I’m sorry.”

Tears slipped down her cheeks. The house had been ransacked. Portraits had been split by knives, their gilded frames broken and splintered. Papers ripped from the desk drawers littered the floor. Clothing, which had once resided in the bedrooms, now lay scattered about the room.

Bryce placed his finger across his lips and pointed along the hallway. They heard footfalls. Stepping gingerly, they walked through the house and out the back door. The horses were in the stable, hay hanging from between their teeth as they chewed. Bryce saddled the horses, grabbed the lead ropes, and led the horses through a gate that connected with Winifred and Winnie’s yard.

They eased around the neighboring house. When they reached the street, Bryce studied the area. The man who had followed them from the park stood on the house’s landing with one foot inside the door.

“What do ye think they’re doing?” whispered Bryce.

“Who knows? Perhaps they suspect I’m who they are looking for. But my best guess is they are probably looking for the message,” said Lucy as she peeked over Bryce’s shoulder.

Bryce continued to lead them away at a slow pace. Out of sight, they slung their legs up and mounted. The animals clopped away in the afternoon light. Lucy looked over her shoulder one last time. Would she ever see her home again?

****

Bryce led them away at a normal pace. Once away from Lucy’s street, Bryce found them a place to hide. He tied the horses and walked Lucy toward a huge home, which functioned as an inn for travelers. When they opened the door, a small man with a stooped back approached.

Mustering up his best English accent, Bryce spoke. “Room for Mr. and Mrs. Bard.”

“Do you have a note?”

Bryce blinked. What note?

With curiosity, he watched the elderly man walk to a nearby table. He opened a book and flipped through the pages, studying the written words intently. The elderly man’s neck moved and creaked as it lifted to look at them. “Sir, I do apologize, but I see no Bard listed. Here at the inn, if you are not in the book, then you must have a note.”

Spine erect and enacting a haughty tone, Bryce said, “Of course not. I’m here because I want a — a note.”

The man’s head twisted from side to side. “This is highly irregular. Highly irregular. This hotel has rules. And the rules require someone to vouch for you, but I must say you are in luck. There is one room available at the moment. I’ll have your bags taken to your room posthaste.”

The man spoke slowly and moved even slower. If they had to wait on him, they would never be out of danger. Before an attempt could be made to help, Bryce said, “No bags. We will just be staying overnight, if you please.”

He shook his head, then as if a light dawned, he said, “I get your meaning.”

Bryce watched Lucy’s face turn ten shades of red. The man waved them aside. “No need to worry; it is none of my business. We are very discreet here at the inn.”

The two of them followed the man to a large suite. A living area was attached to an open bedroom where a huge bed sat in the middle of the floor. It dominated the entire room. The man winked and left them alone.

“Imagine. What a filthy-minded old man.”

She unpinned her hair and it fell freely down her back. Bryce watched as Lucy plopped upon a cushioned chair. Everything within the room screamed of high class and wealth, neither of which he held. Lucy rested as if the place were a second home.

“Lucy, how will we pay for this?”

“What? I thought—“ The frown which settled on her face embarrassed him. “Don’t worry. I’m sure Father had an account here or something to that effect. The fact is, we have bigger problems. How are we going to go back home? For certain, someone will be watching to see if anyone returns. At least that’s what I would do.”

“I’ve been thinking about that. The woman from the carriage told ye we were being followed. Whoever it was followed us to the park, but at the same time someone was in yer house. So did they watch us to see when we would return home, or did they have other plans?”

Fear spread across her face. Bryce sat beside her. Picking up her hand and placing it within his, he studied her long, nimble fingers.

“I didn’t mean to worry ye, lass. But these are things we need to consider. They tell us what we should do.”

“Bryce, what are we going to do? I need to search the house again for the code or get my clothes or something. Everything I own, except this pouch on my arm, is still there.”

She pulled her hands free and buried her face inside them. Bryce scooted closer and ran his hand over her brown locks. “Do ye still have the itinerary?”

“Aye, I do.”

“What’s next on the list?”

She lifted the blue pouch and pulled a piece of paper free. They studied the scrawled words as Lucy voiced what she read. “Joshua was scheduled to be at a masquerade ball tomorrow night.”

“Then I guess we’re going to a party,” he said, a smile tugging at his lips.