Graham kept the wagon rolling steadily towards Mayfair. Their guns remained in their hands and no conversation passed between them until Aaran turned the wagon onto the road leading to Duncan Place. Finally, the tension between their shoulders lessened, and, at length, they spotted Mr. Fields and a half dozen footmen waiting to assist with their master’s arrival.
Marksman quickly dismounted and handed off the reins of his horse to one of the mounted servants. The young lord assisted Theodora to the ground.
“Is everything as we planned?” Graham asked Mr. Fields.
“Yes, my lord.”
“Theodora,” Aaran instructed, “go ahead of us and know assurance your father’s quarters are prepared as you wanted them. We will not be moving Duncan around later, so all should be as you thought best.”
“Excellent choice,” Benjamin said softly. “We cannot be distracted by her worrying.”
“She loves her father,” Graham said with a shrug indicating the obvious.
“As do we all,” Orson announced as he moved into place to support a corner of the door the others did not hold. Likewise, Benjamin and Marksman took the opposing end. Keeping the door level as they managed the stairs would be difficult, and he and Marksman had claimed the end that would be required to lift the highest.
“You present the orders, Orson,” Benjamin instructed. “We cannot all be in charge, and you are the old man of the group.”
“Remind me to address that remark when this business is complete,” Orson grunted as they lifted the door with Duncan on it from the wagon. “Together,” Orson instructed. “Step. Step. Step.”
Beaufort and the servant rejoined them, but no one offered anexplanation or asked a question. They had a more pressing situation to complete first. Together, they were repeating Orson’s “Step.” Beaufort and the servant slid in to claim the “front” of the door, one on the left and the other on the right. “Step.”
