Twelve
Reaching St Alban’s in the afternoon, they led their horses into the local stables, and asked directions to the inn they were seeking. The Ye Olde Fighting Cock, was a whitewashed building near the river.
Nicholas strode into the tap room. “You have a gentleman here by the name of Phillips?” he asked the innkeeper.
“I do. He’s in the parlor.”
Phillips rose from his position beside the fireplace and tapped his pipe into the empty grate. He was a wiry man with a red moustache. “I got the message from Bow Street and waited for you, milord,” he said. “I’m afraid you’ve come on a wild goose chase. Post is no longer here in St. Albans. He left in the early hours of this morning.”
Nicholas frowned. “Didn’t you try to follow him?”
Phillips raised his dark bushy brows. “I heard that the earl was dead. I don’t work for nothing, milord. I trust you’ll pay me what I’m owed.”
“You now work for me, Phillips. And you’ll be paid handsomely.”
Phillips grinned, showing a wide gap in his teeth. “Then we should get started.”
“I first want words with the innkeeper.” Nicholas walked back to the entry.
“Post told me he was leaving today, milord,” the innkeeper said. “But he slipped out early without paying his bill, the rogue. Better not come back here again.”
“Then I suppose you didn’t learn in which direction he’d gone?”
“No milord. Said a previous employer owed him money and he was going to collect it.”
“Think carefully, fellow, this is of great importance,” Nicholas said. “Did he give a clue as to who that was?”
He scratched his head. “Can’t recall. But I got the impression it was no more than a day’s ride away.”
At the stables, Post’s direction was confirmed by the stable boy who saw him ride off. When they were mounted on fresh horses, Nicholas cast a sharp glance at Holmes. “Let’s make haste. He’s headed for Debenham Park.”
“But surely he wouldn’t want to show his face near there,” Holmes said.
Nicholas tightened his jaw. “Only God knows what drives that madman.”
They galloped their horses along a road that would take them right through Debenham Village, but even if they pushed their mounts, it would be dark before they got there.
♥♥♥
When dusk fell, Caroline picked at her dinner. She should try to eat, Cook was a gem who took great pride in her dishes and tonight, the forcemeat stuffing in the fish was superb. But since Nicholas’ letter suggested Post wasn’t far away, every mouthful tasted like dust. She fed tidbits to the dog, so at least some of the meal disappeared from the plate.
Caroline rose from the table and sent the footman, Harold, with a message of praise to Cook, adding her apology for her poor appetite. She couldn’t believe how much she missed Nicholas, as if she’d known him for years. Although in truth, they’d spent very little time together. While the brothers were very different, there was a family resemblance. She saw something of George in Nicholas at times, especially when on horseback. Both were superb horsemen. Nicholas appeared to have a more curious mind, he exhibited an interest in many things, especially politics, and perhaps due to his years in the army, he was more orderly and disciplined. George often came up with money-making schemes which seemed entirely unrealistic to her. Breeding race horses would have been the best of them. He would have enjoyed that had he lived. She felt deeply saddened that her friend was no longer with them, but she now knew that marrying him would have been a terrible mistake.
Caroline had planned to have her maid sleep on a tablet in her room. But Mary had developed a cold, and preferred to sleep in her own bed upstairs. And she didn’t like dogs. So once Caroline was ready for bed she dismissed her. As she ordered the dog into his bed, she paused. Had she reminded Kettle to check all the door and window locks? He was
Reaching St Alban’s in the afternoon, they led their horses into the local stables, and asked directions to the inn they were seeking. The Ye Olde Fighting Cock, was a whitewashed building near the river.
Nicholas strode into the tap room. “You have a gentleman here by the name of Phillips?” he asked the innkeeper.
“I do. He’s in the parlor.”
Phillips rose from his position beside the fireplace and tapped his pipe into the empty grate. He was a wiry man with a red moustache. “I got the message from Bow Street and waited for you, milord,” he said. “I’m afraid you’ve come on a wild goose chase. Post is no longer here in St. Albans. He left in the early hours of this morning.”
Nicholas frowned. “Didn’t you try to follow him?”
Phillips raised his dark bushy brows. “I heard that the earl was dead. I don’t work for nothing, milord. I trust you’ll pay me what I’m owed.”
“You now work for me, Phillips. And you’ll be paid handsomely.”
Phillips grinned, showing a wide gap in his teeth. “Then we should get started.”
“I first want words with the innkeeper.” Nicholas walked back to the entry.
“Post told me he was leaving today, milord,” the innkeeper said. “But he slipped out early without paying his bill, the rogue. Better not come back here again.”
“Then I suppose you didn’t learn in which direction he’d gone?”
“No milord. Said a previous employer owed him money and he was going to collect it.”
“Think carefully, fellow, this is of great importance,” Nicholas said. “Did he give a clue as to who that was?”
He scratched his head. “Can’t recall. But I got the impression it was no more than a day’s ride away.”
At the stables, Post’s direction was confirmed by the stable boy who saw him ride off. When they were mounted on fresh horses, Nicholas cast a sharp glance at Holmes. “Let’s make haste. He’s headed for Debenham Park.”
“But surely he wouldn’t want to show his face near there,” Holmes said.
Nicholas tightened his jaw. “Only God knows what drives that madman.”
They galloped their horses along a road that would take them right through Debenham Village, but even if they pushed their mounts, it would be dark before they got there.
♥♥♥
When dusk fell, Caroline picked at her dinner. She should try to eat, Cook was a gem who took great pride in her dishes and tonight, the forcemeat stuffing in the fish was superb. But since Nicholas’ letter suggested Post wasn’t far away, every mouthful tasted like dust. She fed tidbits to the dog, so at least some of the meal disappeared from the plate.
Caroline rose from the table and sent the footman, Harold, with a message of praise to Cook, adding her apology for her poor appetite. She couldn’t believe how much she missed Nicholas, as if she’d known him for years. Although in truth, they’d spent very little time together. While the brothers were very different, there was a family resemblance. She saw something of George in Nicholas at times, especially when on horseback. Both were superb horsemen. Nicholas appeared to have a more curious mind, he exhibited an interest in many things, especially politics, and perhaps due to his years in the army, he was more orderly and disciplined. George often came up with money-making schemes which seemed entirely unrealistic to her. Breeding race horses would have been the best of them. He would have enjoyed that had he lived. She felt deeply saddened that her friend was no longer with them, but she now knew that marrying him would have been a terrible mistake.
Caroline had planned to have her maid sleep on a tablet in her room. But Mary had developed a cold, and preferred to sleep in her own bed upstairs. And she didn’t like dogs. So once Caroline was ready for bed she dismissed her. As she ordered the dog into his bed, she paused. Had she reminded Kettle to check all the door and window locks? He was
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