Serafina and the Black Cloak - Robert Beatty Page 0,40
Mr. Crankshod, who was still put out by the incident with the dog, and thanked him for leading the search party to Braeden. But there was something about Crankshod, all smiling and greasy, that raised Serafina’s hackles. What was he really doing? Where was he when the Man in the Black Cloak attacked? Did he work for him? Or was he him?
She looked suspiciously at Mr. Vanderbilt, too. She didn’t like the way he was so tough on Braeden, telling him what to do and not to do and how to feel. He had no idea what Braeden had been through. He didn’t listen any better than her pa, and he seemed far too quick to accept Mr. Crankshod’s story that it had been bandits.
Braeden had said that his aunt and uncle had secretly sent him away for the night, so few people would have known he was going to be on the road at that time. And he had said that his uncle trusted Mr. Crankshod. Were they working together?
She tried to think it through. Was it really possible that Mr. Vanderbilt was the Man in the Black Cloak? Did he have some terrible need to swallow up all the children at Biltmore?
After the men cleared the second tree from the road, those who weren’t continuing on to search for Nolan climbed back into the carriages. The coachmen began the intricate task of turning all the carriages around in the tight quarters of the narrow road so that they could head back to Biltmore Estate.
“I want you to ride with me in my carriage, Braeden,” Mr. Vanderbilt said. “Mr. Crankshod will drive us.”
“Yes, sir,” Braeden said, “I understand, but we need to bring my horses home.” His horses had been harnessed, but there wasn’t a coachman to drive them.
“I’ll take care of it,” Mr. Thorne volunteered. He walked over to the horses, patted their heads gently as they nuzzled him, then climbed up into the empty driver’s seat and gathered the reins.
Serafina saw Braeden smile, relieved that Mr. Thorne was willing to help, but something struck her as a bit odd. Many gentlemen were accomplished riders, but few had any experience with driving a carriage, which was a servant’s job.
Mr. Bendel, who was riding his thoroughbred, came up alongside Mr. Thorne. “Well, there you go, Thorne. You’ve got a fallback position if you ever lose your fortune.”
“I have to get a fortune before I can lose it,” Mr. Thorne said humbly.
The two gentlemen laughed with each other, but then Mr. Bendel became more serious, tipped his hat to Mr. Thorne and Mr. Vanderbilt, and joined the search party of half a dozen riders that was heading out to look for Nolan.
“Don’t wait on supper for me,” Mr. Bendel called back to his friends as he rode off with the other horsemen.
Soon the carriages were all moving and heading down the road toward home.
Serafina wanted desperately to go with them, but she knew she couldn’t. She remained hidden in the bushes. She had to suppress a sense of panic that she was being left behind, that she’d never be able to find her way through the forest back to Biltmore. And she missed Braeden’s company already. As she watched the carriages recede into the distance, she thought, Good-bye, my friend, and she hoped he was thinking the same.
But even as the carriages disappeared, she felt a tingling sensation course through her limbs. She should have been frightened to be in the forest alone. All her life she’d been told to stay away from it, but now here she was. Far from Biltmore. Alone in the trees. And she had an idea. She was downright keen on it. She just hoped that it wasn’t going to get her lost. Or killed.
As she stepped onto the empty road and looked down the length of it, she had a weird and foreign feeling from being so far away from her pa and Biltmore and all the commotion there. She half expected to burst into tears, go running after the carriages, and wail, Wait! Wait! You forgot about me!
But she didn’t. And she felt rather grown-up about it.
The sun was well up now and casting a lovely warm light on the trees. Birds were singing. There was a gentle breeze. Things weren’t so bad in the forest.
But then she looked down the long road winding through the trees and remembered that she was eleven miles from home.