Beyond a Doubt - By Felicia Rogers Page 0,21

he made the right decision?

For the next hour, Bryce attempted to convince himself that leaving Lucy in the care of others was the right thing to do. Besides, Lucy would never be satisfied as the wife of a sheep farmer, and this was Bryce’s destiny, his only desire.

And what of Crissy? Although they’d never committed to a relationship, she’d been the only woman on his mind for years. He owed her something, right?

Weary and depressed, Bryce dismounted. The will to continue escaped him. He found a large boulder, sat, and played with a flower. The silken feel of the petals reminded him of Lucy’s hair. A sigh escaped his lips. He pitched the flower as far away from him as possible. Standing beside Emissary, he bent his head and lay against the saddle.

“I stole the girl! I stole the girl!”

Bryce's head jerked upright as a horse galloped by. Upon the horse, lying on her belly and flopping up and down, was Lucy.

A man of extra girth, laughing uproariously, sat behind her with the reins in his hand. Every few seconds the words, “I stole the girl!” escaped his lips.

Bryce was stunned. Although his brain worked, his limbs felt numb. By the time his body moved, the couple had disappeared over the next rise and out of sight. Springing into action, Bryce took off in pursuit.

The dust the horse kicked up showed a clear line of where to go. Urging his mount, Bryce worked to control his heart rate.

What in the world had happened? Lucy was supposed to be on her way to London, not slung over the side of a horse being carted away by some unknown man!

Bryce kicked his horse’s flank, insisting on increased speed. Time ticked painfully by. Slowly Bryce closed the distance between himself, and Lucy and the man on horseback. Within a few minutes their horses raced side-by-side.

“Halt!”

The man’s head leaned back and loud crazed laughter left his lips as his horse shot ahead. Agitated, Bryce raked his hand through his hair. The ribbon holding his hair back fell amongst the shrubs on the ground, becoming trampled in the mud. What could he do? To force man and beast to stop might bring harm to Lucy.

Ahead of him loomed a large grassy field. Could he be lucky enough to come alongside and knock the rider down alone? Or would this action cause injury to Lucy? There was no time to think of another plan; this was his only option.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Per Gustav’s instructions, Charles Dubois was released from prison. Not willing to leave anything to chance, Gustav tailed the man himself.

After a day and a half, Gustav felt as if he’d been led on a merry goose chase. Charles had crossed the city multiple times, yet never stayed in the same place more than once.

Each evening, Monsieur Dubois would attend a soiree that lasted all night. The following morning, he would leave in an enclosed carriage belonging to some young woman of substantial means. The vehicle would then transport the couple to her abode where Charles would stay for the daylight hours. In the evening he would bound down the stairs, adjust his clothing, and find another party to attend.

For a week, the routine never varied. Then one night, quite unexpectedly, the routine changed. The party ended and Charles came out alone. He wobbled in a drunken stupor. For two blocks the man seemed unaware, like a primitive animal. Then completely out of his current character, he called a hackney to his side. The carriage drove at a fast clipped pace and enacted multiple turns, as if navigating a maze. Finally the carriage drew to a halt outside the fancy hotel that contained the trunk.

Gustav grinned as he followed Charles into the hotel, keeping his distance until Charles entered his old room. Hidden outside in the hallway, he waited. The noises within consisted of banging, thumping, and a certain amount of cursing. Obviously Charles was having no better luck than Gustav had had in searching the trunk.

When Charles left, Gustav hesitated. The trunk rested within the confines of the room. Should he stay and search it once more or should he follow and see where the man led him?

****

All this work for nothing. Countless hours wooing beautiful women, courting nobles, and flattering the worthless. For what?

The alley was dark. The clicking sound of shoes echoed across the stones. How long had Charles waited for his contact? Regardless, he would wait only a few moments more. The cold,