“None taken,” Duncan assured.
“I assume no one assembled here holds an objection if I spend time observing the goings and comings of those at Rayland’s manor. Such is where I first noted a person dressed in a similar manner as was Duncan’s shooter.”
“Do as you think best,” Duncan instructed, “but be cautious. Rayland could have you shot for trespassing.”
“A brotherly call might be a good cover,” Aaran suggested. “Ask of Boyde’s progress with Lady Rhonda while I have a look around.”
“Yes, that sounds reasonable. We all agree the sudden marriage of Rayland to Lady Eímear reeks of maneuvers that speak to no good on the lady’s part,” Duncan conceded, “but be on your guard. What Her Ladyship plans for both her son and for you still does not make sense.”
While his brothers rode off to search for where the highwayman had disappeared, Aaran made his way to Rayland’s land. As foolish as it may sound to say the words aloud, Aaran wished to discuss all the ramifications of this situation with Lady Freya, but his brothers’ wives had encircled the lady as if they were Joshua and the Israelites marching around Jericho, though they did not want to destroy Lady Freya, as had Joshua in the Bible, but, rather, protect her. Aaran assuredly could not fault their actions, for he wanted to protect her with all his heart and soul, but, at this moment, he just wanted to look upon her and know she was well. Was safe from danger.
Aaran had chosen not to enter Rayland’s land through the main gate, but, rather he had followed the line of the low, rolling hills and entered the property along a line of pasture recently turned for planting once the weather broke, which caused Aaran to wonder how the planting on his Scottish estates was progressing. He also wondered whether he would ever be able to share all he had learned from Duncan with his own children. Wondered on the look of those very children. “Will they have red hair?” he whispered with a grin. “Dear Lord, I hope so, but, first…”
“Might’n I be of service, sir?” a man with a pitchfork over his shoulder asked as he stepped from behind a tree to stand on the lane Aaran traveled.
Aaran cursed himself for daydreaming about Lady Freya when he should have been examining his surroundings. “No, sir,” he said as his eyes scanned the area to view whether there were others about. “I am a guest on Lord Thompson’s estate, having come as part of the house party there celebrating Lord Thompson’s wedding, but I am also half brother to Lord Boyde Graham, Lord Pitcairn, Lady Rayland’s son.”
Though the man did not appear convinced, Aaran knew he would not challenge Aaran’s authority, for Aaran was dressed as would be the aristocracy. “This lane leads past a row of tenant cottages and a bit further on to the manor house.”
“Oh, good,” Aaran assured in tones of innocence. “I made a wrong turn somewhere. Thank you, good sir, for your assistance.” He claimed a coin from a small pocket of his waistcoat and tossed it to the man. “You have been most worthy to my cause.” With a nod and the lift of his shoulders in a display of self-importance, Aaran set his horse in a steady pace and did not look back to view whether the man had returned to his labors or something more nefarious.
Once he was out of sight of the fellow, Aaran stopped and listened to nature to know if anything or anyone meant to break the rhythm of the world turning through its cycles. Nothing appeared from place, and so he continued on.
Near the stable, he slowed once again, pretending to wait for a stable hand to come out to meet his needs, but, in truth, his eyes followed the trail of what could only be two, perhaps three, horses across a well-tilled field behind the house.
“May I be of service, sir?” a man asked from off Aaran’s left shoulder.
Graham smiled upon the fellow. “I fear I took a wrong turn somewhere between here and Thom Manor. I am Lord Graham, Lord Pitcairn’s brother, and I meant to say my farewells, for I will return to London tomorrow. A man in the fields sent me this way.”
The fellow took hold of Aaran’s horse. “I am Mr. Locke, Lord Rayland’s stable master. If you are willing, you may leave your horse with me and walk up to the main house, or you may ride around to the front, and I will send a boy up to tend your horse while you call upon Lord Pitcairn.”
Aaran tapped his leg with his fist. “I have a wound that sometimes troubles me, so if it is not an inconvenience, I will claim the services of the stable boy.”
“As you wish, my lord,” the man said with a slight bow.
Aaran asked the question that was bothering him. “Are all in the house at home? I would also like to speak my farewells to Lord and Lady Rayland.”
“The master departed for London yesterday,” the man explained, and Aaran briefly wondered if Rayland had been the darkly clad highwayman. Before he could form an opinion, the stable master continued, “The mistress was to join the Dowager Lady Hightower and her granddaughter in Rochester for a few days. I believe for a concert at the cathedral. In that manner, Lady Rayland could return Mr. MacAlasdair to the city, and then she would join Lord Rayland in London. I am not assured, my lord, whether Lord Pitcairn means to follow his mother to London.”
Aaran thought,I hope Boyde finally sees the light, but he simply nodded his acceptance of the information. “I should make myself known to Lord Rayland’s staff. Thank you for your assistance on this fine day.”
He lightly tapped his horse’s flanks to set it in a walk, while he continued to observe the field and the tracks. He noted therewere no markings of carriage wheels anywhere about the stable yard nor on either side of the house.So did the man not say the Hightowers traveled recently? He also noted Lady Raymond’s carriage was tucked back under an overhang to protect it from the elements.How did Her Ladyship and MacAlasdair travel?
Aaran purposely did not turn his head for a closer look, for he could feel a half dozen pairs of eyes on him. Whether they watched him out of curiosity or caution, he held no idea.
He stepped down before the house, leaving the reins in the hands of a young boy who had rushed forward to claim them. “Do not permit him to become cold nor should you overexercise him,” he instructed.
“Aye, sir.”
Aaran slid two pence in the child’s hand and walked away to the door where he released the knocker. Rayland’s butler responded quite quickly, meaning Aaran’s presence was well known before he had stepped up on the exterior steps.
“Good day, my lord,” the butler said with a bow.
“Good day,” Aaran dutifully repeated as he studied how others in the house went about their duties. “I had hoped to speak my farewells to Lord and Lady Rayland, but it appears I am too late.”
“I fear so, my lord,” the servant announced with a lift of importance in his response. “The master returned to London yesterday, and Her Ladyship has gone to Rochester for a few days before joining His Lordship at their London home.”
Evidently, all the servants have been told the same tale, Aaran thought, while he said, “Then if it is possible, might I speak to Lord Pitcairn?”
