The Artist's Healer - Regina Scott Page 0,74

Eva asked the livery stable owner. “I understand he had to store it here as the carriage house at the castle would only hold the other two he brought with him.”

Mr. Josephs frowned. A burly blacksmith, his frowns were as impressive as they were rare.

“Did his lordship authorize that?” he asked.

Eva smiled. “My husband, as you know, is steward of all the earl’s properties. I authorize it on his behalf. I’d use my own carriage, but, alas, it’s not large enough to suit our needs.” She turned for his son. “And Nate, there’s a silver piece for you if you run to Butterfly Manor and wake Mr. Connors and Kip in the coaching house. Tell them to bring the musket and pistols as well as Mr. Yeager and Mr. Pym.”

At a nod from his father, he ran off.

“You don’t do anything by halves,” Abigail said admiringly.

“Never,” Eva vowed.

Jesslyn smiled sweetly at Mr. Josephs. “Might I borrow a few things from your charming wife?”

A half hour later, as darkness wrapped around the village, Mr. Connors was driving them along the road leading west toward Upper Grace. The three men and Kip rode on top of the coach, with Abigail, Jess, and Eva inside.

“They won’t be pleased to see us,” Abigail told her confederates.

“Certainly not,” Jess agreed. “But they’ll be alive, and right now that’s all that matters to me.”

Mr. Connors could only go as fast as the horses could see by lantern, but it didn’t take long to reach the closest public house. It was a shabby place under the sign of the Grey Wolf. Even with the late hour, lights gleamed.

“Ready?” Abigail asked, tucking her hair up under the cap Mrs. Josephs had provided. “As we agreed.”

Jess effected a weary look, eyes and shoulders sagging. “Ready.”

“Me too.” Eva rubbed her palms against her cheeks to redden them. Pym, a spry older man, jumped down as the lanky dark-haired Yeager helped them alight.

“Stand ready for my call,” Eva told them. “And if I don’t call within a quarter hour, come in anyway.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Yeager agreed, sharp nose pointing toward the inn.

Pym went before them and opened the door, his wizened face at odds with his quick movements. As he hurried to the counter, Eva followed, leaning heavily on Abigail on one side and Jess on the other. Abigail caught sight of a few men around a big center table, a barmaid sweeping up behind. They all stopped talking to watch.

“My mistress needs your best room,” Pym said, short nose appropriately in the air as if he found even the smell of the place offensive. “And the closest physician.”

The man behind the bar was nearly as short as Eva’s servant, with thick brown hair and a nose that was crooked enough to have been broken a time or two.

“You’re in luck,” he said, thumbs in the tie of his dirty apron. “I was full up, but the press gang came through and cleaned out half my customers not an hour ago. I can’t help you with a physician, though. The only one in the area is down in Grace-by-the-Sea at their fancy spa.”

Abigail leaned closer to Eva. “They can’t have been here, then.”

“These fellows may not have known Linus for a physician,” Eva whispered back. Jess nodded.

One of the older men nearer the stone hearth barked a laugh. “Too bad your mistress wasn’t here sooner. The press gang came looking for a physician too.”

Abigail and Jess frowned at each other.

Eva broke away from them to straighten, chin up and eyes flashing. “Where did they go, this press gang?”

The proprietor frowned at her, even as Pym sighed and stepped back, hand going to the pistol at his hip.

“Answer her immediately,” Abigail ordered.

“Or face the magistrate’s justice,” Jess threatened.

Even as the proprietor held up his hands, the old man started laughing again. “You’re too late, I tell you. I didn’t know the two fellows with him, but I recognized our magistrate, even if he chose to dress like common folk. All that shining gold hair. He tried to put on airs, but they’d have none of it. Last time I saw him and his friends, the press gang was marching them for Weymouth. They’ll be sailing for the south this time tomorrow.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

“Just keep walking, sailor,” the press gang leader ordered. “This is your last evening on land for some time. Enjoy it.”

Hands bound behind his back, Linus stumbled on the rocky road and righted himself. Already, two of the other men captured with