all. But if it concerns you so, then come with me.”
Graham shoved an extra pair of deerskin breeches into his satchel and looked around his bedchamber. What had he forgotten? He’d grabbed extra clothes. All the money in his possession. His pistol. Ammunition. A stack of papers and letters. The marriage license. Anything that was of any importance to the situation, he’d stuffed into his drawstring sack. If successful, the trip to Liverpool would not be a long one, but he wanted to be prepared. If he hurried, and if the weather and roads cooperated, he could arrive in Deerbruck by nightfall. And then, if he left at dawn, he’d reach Liverpool by tomorrow afternoon. In two days’ time, he could have Lucy in his arms and be on his way back to Darbury.
When everything he would need was neatly packed and ready for the journey, he slung the cinched sack and satchel over his shoulder and pulled the bedchamber door closed behind him. His footsteps echoed in the empty corridor.
He had not seen nor heard from William since they’d argued the night before. Where was his brother? And could he possibly have had a part in the kidnapping? Graham hated to even consider the idea, but William had been so angry, so desperate. So drunk. And Graham had to consider all the possibilities, no matter how repugnant.
At the moment, however, he needed to be on his way. He could wait no longer for his brother to find his way home and explain himself. The day’s light would not last forever.
Outside, the brisk wind disrupted his hat and tugged at his greatcoat. The threat of yet another downpour hastened his steps. He could not lose any time because of the weather.
The groom had readied his no-name horse, and the pair was waiting for him just behind Eastmore’s gravel drive. “He’s ready.”
Graham patted the horse’s flank with his gloved hand. “Do you think he’ll make it?”
The groom tilted his head and studied the animal. “I think so. Deerbruck’s not so far, and Liverpool’s but a half day’s ride beyond that. And this horse is dependable enough once you get him going. But if you’re unsure, I can saddle another. No sense wondering.”
Graham shook his head. He didn’t like the idea of taking another horse. This unnamed beast was his, and the two of them had formed a bond of sorts. He’d done well on the journey home to Lucy, and with any kind of luck, this animal would carry him to her again. “No, I’ll take this one.”
The groom flipped the horse’s reins over the animal’s head. “As you wish.”
Graham tied his sack behind the horse’s saddle and filled the saddlebags. “Any sign of William?”
“I have not seen him, sir. His horse isn’t in his stall.”
Graham looked around. “Is this normal for my brother?”
The man shrugged, obviously unwilling to comment on his master’s habits, and returned his attention to the animal.
Graham tightened the leather strap to secure his pack to the back of the saddle. Above him distant thunder growled. The horse shifted as Graham stuck his booted foot in the stirrup and swung his leg over.
Graham settled himself in the saddle and leaned toward the animal’s ear. “We’ve a long journey. You aren’t going to let me down, are you?”
The horse flung his head and pawed at the ground, a contrary expression in his eye, but Graham had learned over the past weeks that the animal’s protests usually came to nothing.
“If you are to be my partner, you must have a name. So . . . what’ll it be?”
The animal didn’t answer, except to swish his tail and nod his big head once more toward the right.
“That’s it, then. You’re a seaman’s horse. We’ll call you Starboard.”
With a click of his tongue and a kick of his heel, the pair departed for Winterwood Manor.
This sensation of urgency was a familiar one. Before every battle it pushed Graham to be braver. Stronger. Faster. But today he was not fighting an enemy ship. Today the battle engaging him was much more personal, the risk far greater.
He rolled his neck and arched his back to loosen the knotted kinks that had formed. The noon hour had not yet arrived, and already his body felt weary. With a slight tug of the reins he guided Starboard around the curve to the shortcut through Sterling Wood. Ahead, at the forest’s edge, the trees parted to a clearing. He paused at the hill’s crest to survey