Lily interjected. “I agree. As long as the killer believes the letter is in Ridley House, and that we do not know why the baron was killed, we have a chance to discreetly investigate. If the Home Secretary opens an investigation, it will all be over. The killer would likely make a run for it, and we will never find him if he leaves England. He must be brought to justice. The more desperate he becomes to protect himself, the more mistakes he will make.”
“But what if he suspects that you and Filminster have found the letter?”
She shook her head. “I do not know, but he still believes there is a possibility to maintain his inheritance, so we must act as if that is the case.”
Aidan was impressed with Lily’s resolve and resilience. “When did you become so clever?”
“I am not a girl anymore, Aidan Abbott. While you were away, I grew up. I improved my French and read books on military strategy. Much happened in the past few years.”
It was true. Aidan had returned home to find his cousin married to a notorious rogue, and within weeks his little sister had ruined herself to save Filminster from the gallows. The Abbott women were a force to be reckoned with.
This brought Gwen to mind, along with a wave of heat, as he recalled their activities in bed the night before. Gwen was an intelligent woman with thoughts of her own, but would she prove to be as resilient as Lily if Aidan was forced to bring her father to justice?
“Faugh! This is such a tangled web!”
Lily and Filminster burst into unnerved laughter. Even Aidan managed a chuckle. It was incomprehensible what a farce this entire matter had become.
CHAPTER 13
“Whosoever is delighted in solitude is either a wild beast or a god.”
Aristotle
When Aidan hurried back to the Smythe home, riding his mount around to the mews in the back, he found that a carriage was being prepared. As he had hoped, Smythe was on his way out. This might be the opportunity he needed to learn more about what Smythe had been doing.
Waving off the groom, Aidan turned to ride back out.
Finding a discreet position out on the main road passing the front of the house, he waited. Anticipation sang through his veins that finally he could take some sort of action. Where was Smythe heading to?
What if he is merely visiting his clubs?
Aidan hoped not. The frustration of notdoing anything to move this investigation forward was driving him quietly mad.
Valor snorted, pawing the earth with a heavy hoof.
“Easy.” Aidan stroked the gelding’s withers, composing himself to reduce his internal tension. It would not do to distress the beast with his own calamity when he needed to remain hidden.
Soon Smythe hurried from the front door, dressed in a dark and disheveled overcoat and his blue eyes flashing in the sunlight.
Aidan frowned, noticing for the first time that the black carriage had no markings. There was no reason to expect them because Smythe did not currently possess a rank, but along with the skirted coat he wore, it was practically impossible to recognize who was being driven.
Scanning the driver and footman, Aidan realized that they were not dressed in their usual livery. They, too, wereincognito.
What fresh intrigue was this?
Aidan’s spirits lifted, the thrill of the chase racing through his body. Finally, he had something to pursue. A tangible clue. He knew in his very bones that Smythe was on the move, ready to engage in some sort of dubious activity. This was not to be a routine errand to his solicitor or man of business. Smythe was hiding his identity to pursue his dark ends.
As the carriage drew off, Aidan carefully tightened his calf. Valor immediately broke into a trot, and they kept pace with the carriage as it moved down quiet streets. After a while they joined Strand Street, which was bustling with carriages, mounted riders, and pedestrians going about their business. St. James’s Park was well behind them, and Aidan was careful to keep Smythe’s carriage in sight, noting that they were heading east as the traffic grew more congested.
Turning off Fleet Street, Aidan followed the carriagewhich turned onto Thames Street, near the river, and the carriage kept heading west. Smythe appeared to be heading toward the London Docks, but who knew if they would just keep moving west beyond that point?
The closer they came to the docks, the more difficult it grew for Aidan to keep the carriage in sight. Merchants and dock workers mingled in congregation on the roadside, while wagons piled high with crates and barrels clogged the streets. Aidan pressed his mount forward, and just as he turned a corner, another rider came flying through a gap in the traffic.
Valor was startled by the sudden motion and proximity, rearing up and bellowing out a loud whinny. Aidan was caught off guard, attempting to keep Smythe’s carriage in view, and next he knew, he had been bucked from Valor’s back. As the earth flew toward him, Aidan hit the road with a roll, barely missing the large wheels of a passing wagon.
Bruised and shaken, he sprang to his feet and grabbed hold of the panicking Valor’s reins, quickly tugging the gelding’s head down and walking him back several steps to disengage his hindquarters. Valor acquiesced, panting in quieting agitation but relaxing his panicked stance.
Once his horse was secured, Aidan threw a glance over his shoulder and cursed loudly. Several passersby flinched and tossed him glances of reproval, but he paid them no mind.
