Beyond a Doubt(10)
Lucy’s bottom swayed on the horse. Saddlesore and weary, she couldn’t wait for the day to end. Each morning it was harder and harder to climb back on the beast. How she longed for a covered carriage with its soft, plush seats. To have a coachman wield the reins and guide the horses in the desired direction, allowing her to ride in royal style.
Closing her eyes, she could almost envision London. Horses’ hooves echoed upon the cobbled streets. Townhouses with doors open welcomed visitors. Father at home to greet her with a smile plastered upon his face, the maids curtseying and attending to her every need. Her home filled with people telling stories and laughing loudly. One room filled with smoke, another reeking with perfume.
Sorrow washed over her as she realized these memories were passing fantasy. At one time this had been her life, but no more. Father’s extra activities had changed everything. Now nothing waited for her. All was lost.
****
“Sir, sir, Gustav has sent word.”
Jean examined the letter before him. The wax seal was secure. With pains, Jean opened the missive and broke the seal. Spectacles rested upon the tip of his nose as he read.
Dearest friend,
There is no word from London as of yet. The container proved a dead end. The process of finding our mutual acquaintance is underway. Send any word you have. G.
Jean removed his spectacles, leaned back in the leather chair, and propped his legs upon the wooden desk. With his hands cupped behind his head, he proceeded to think.
In his mind he summarized the clear message behind the words. Charles was a dead end and their only hope rested in L.L. Now Gustav sought information on the agent’s identity.
What could Jean tell Gustav that he didn’t already know? The answer was simple: nothing. No one knew L.L.’s identity.
Some theorized L.L. was a woman of means, but the idea had been rejected by virtue of its ludicrous nature.
Another rumor held that the agent was a servant in an influential household with access to private information. Yet another idea held that L.L. was an elderly gentleman, perhaps an older man who frequented circles beneficial to their cause.
Rumors regarding L.L.’s identity amounted to naught. The agent had never been seen in person. The agent never met his contact in the same place twice. Nor did the means of leaving his message ever match with the one before.
One message found its way into a bottle and bobbed along until discovered by a passing contact. Another time the agent embedded a small scrap of paper inside a hat destined for his contact. L.L encoded a message in a handbill for men’s footwear. By pure happenstance the agent’s contact saw his name spelled oddly with the lettering and thus took time to decode the message within.
Scratching his brow, Jean realized that not even L.L.’s contact knew the agent’s identity. Indeed, the thought of finding the agent would be like finding a needle in a haystack.
Gustav would have to find another way. Perhaps finding Joshua, the agent’s current contact, would help.
Parchment and quill in his hand, Jean struggled with the words to write. The Admiral wouldn’t cancel his speech without proof his life was in danger. L.L. was the only one they knew of who could acquire such proof. If L.L. didn’t show up, what would they do?
Chapter Nineteen
“I won’t do it again. I won’t.”
Bryce looked up from the bubbling pot. The meat released a pleasing aroma as he stirred the brew with the spoon.
“I won’t, Bryce, and you can’t make me.”
Bryce didn’t respond as he retrieved bowls from their pack and ladled stew into the containers. Steam rose into the air.
“I know you don’t believe I’m serious but I am.”
He whistled a tune, the words of a familiar song echoing in his mind.
“Bryce, are you listening to me?”
“Aye.”
“Then don’t you want to know what I’m talking about?”
“Verra well. Since I don’t think ye will quit talking ‘til I respond. Please tell me what ye are refusin’ to do.”
Pointing her shaky finger at her horse, she said, “I refuse to climb back on that horse! Every muscle in my body aches from bouncing around and I won’t do it again.”
Bryce sighed. Lucy paced with her hands held at her back. A frown was plastered upon her face. Without warning she changed the subject.
“When will we reach Greenbriar?”
“A few days,” he answered.
“Thank heavens.”
“I’m sorry for yer soreness, lass.”
“Why are you so kind to me?” Lucy asked, raising her brow.
Bryce shrugged.
“I’ve been rude, testy, moody, and I’ve complained constantly, yet you are continuously kind and considerate.”
“I’m commanded to be this way.”
As he watched, she placed a finger upon the dry, dusty ground and drew a fish. Bryce stared at the image. It was the Christian symbol used during the time of Christ. With his foot, Bryce rubbed away the design and smiled.
They rested. Bryce could have spent the remainder of his days in this one spot. This was the most riding he’d done in years and truthfully Lucy was not the only one suffering from the experience.
When they started out the next morning, they walked. For the next three days, they alternated between walking and riding. Finally Greenbriar came in sight and Bryce had to stop himself from kissing the ground.
They entered the keep and a large man fitting Cedric’s description approached them. Bryce bowed and said, “Laird Cedric, it is a pleasure to make yer acquaintance again.”
Introductions made, Bryce passed Duncan’s letter over. Cedric and Sarra welcomed the couple with open arms. They received a suite of rooms in the main keep. Bryce was impressed by Sarra’s English hospitality.
“Charism, do you remember Bryce Cameron?” asked Sarra, playing hostess.
“Nay,” answered the elderly woman.
“Of course you do. He was one of Duncan Sinclair’s men. We met him when you helped Arbella birth the twins.”
“Big man, no fightin’ skills, didn’t talk much?”
Sarra cringed but Bryce smiled. The woman had him pegged right from the beginning.
And that was how the visit went. By afternoon everyone was on a first-name basis and sharing stories.
Cedric MacNeil, Laird of Greenbriar, was in rare form with his tales. “Too scared to meet the ancient woman of the keep myself, I hired someone to do it for me. The man returned with stories of floatin’ heads and ghosties! Imagine my surprise when I fell madly in love with the maid, only to discover she was the true perpetrator of those acts!”
Sarra landed a playful swat upon Cedric’s arm and asked, “And how did you two meet?”
“I saved him from drowning,” answered Lucy.
“Aye, she did,” said Bryce.
Lucy played with her food and explained. “Pulled him out of the water and what does he do but accuse me right then and there of trying to push him under to begin with. Why, I’d never been so angry in my life!”
Hoots of merriment convulsed through the attendees.
“Why are you together now?” questioned Sarra.
“Bryce is assisting me. I must return to London and he has been kind enough to provide escort.”
Cedric sent him a worried glance. His look expressed many concerns. When the night of visiting ended, Cedric pulled him aside. “Bryce, what are ye doin’?”
“I’m helpin’ a lady.”
“Goin’ to London seems important to her.”
“Aye, it is.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
“What? What do ye mean, ye don’t know?”
“I haven’t asked her.”
“Whyever not?”
“Because maybe I don’t want to know the answer.”
“But—“
“Cedric, please. As Duncan asked ye in the letter, could ye provide recommendation to me for the royal court? I don’t plan on drawin’ attention to myself but on the off chance—“
“My recommendation won’t help ye much.”
“But surely—“
“My time was spent under young King Edward. He followed his father’s footsteps in regard to religion, but I’m afraid the new monarch, Mary, doesn’t feel the same. The woman’s goal is to revenge the treatment of her mother. She blames the Protestant church for all her ills. Nay, I’m afraid anything I would send might only make matters worse for ye.”
All these things Cedric mentioned made Bryce more worried than ever about Lucy’s plans. The lass seemed to be walking into a hornet's nest of activity.
And if the symbol she had drawn earlier meant anything personal, then she was in just as much danger as he.