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Mr. Scollard’s gaze was wise, but troubled. “Sometimes we must fail in order to succeed.”

With a thoroughly exasperated sigh, Courtney replied, “I wish I understood the meaning of your words.”

“If you did, I wouldn’t be speaking them.” His sober mood lifted as quickly as it had descended. “Now drink up. Both of you. Fortify yourselves, then hurry and take your leave. The earl will be home by midafternoon. You have much to accomplish before then.” Another glance at his timepiece. “Goodness. It’s even later than I realized. You’d best take the phaeton. I’ll bring it around. Courtney, you drive. If I recall correctly, your father taught you how during one of your stays in the Colonies.”

Courtney nodded, beyond surprise. “He did.”

Beside her, Aurora’s cup clattered to its saucer. “Phaeton? What phaeton?”

“Why mine, of course,” Mr. Scollard supplied.

“When did you acquire a phaeton?”

Thoughtfully, he pursed his lips. “I don’t recall. I only know it’s on hand when I need it.”

Incredulous hurt filled Aurora’s eyes. “Then all these years, all the times I’ve wept to you about how desperately I longed to escape Pembourne’s walls, you could have helped me—and you didn’t?”

Mr. Scollard went to her, placed his work-worn hands on her shoulders. “Ah, but Rory, I did help you. You just have yet to realize it.” He patted her cheek. “But you will. Soon, I’m happy to report. Very soon.”

With that, he hastened off.

Ten minutes later, Courtney’s and Aurora’s horses were pulling the phaeton along the quiet country road at a healthy clip as Courtney steered them decisively toward Morland. “Papa would be proud. Evidently, his lessons did sink in. Which is a relief, given how pathetic I am on horseback.”

“You were awkward, not pathetic,” Aurora protested. “Remember, you spent most of your life on a merchant ship, where riding is not exactly a priority.” She pointed southwest. “Morland’s estate is six miles inland. If we continue on this road, we’ll reach Newton Abbot, the village on the outskirts of Morland. From there, we take the right fork and follow it directly to Morland.”

Courtney blinked. “I intended to follow this road inland, but only because I’ve heard Papa’s crew describe Newton Abbot as being set back from the shore. After that, I feared we’d have to rely upon our wits.”

A grin. “Sometimes, though rarely, I’ll admit, knowledge surpasses wits. This is one of those times.”

“How did you come by such specific instructions?”

“I took the liberty of questioning Siebert—casually, of course. He’s a wealth of information, privy to everything. Except, this time, my intentions. Even he never imagined I’d actually invade Bencroft’s home. He thought it was just my insatiable curiosity piping up. And he willingly supplied me with what he assumed to be theoretical directions.”

“And you think I’m resourceful.”

Aurora’s grin vanished. “Speaking of being resourceful, where does a lighthouse keeper store a phaeton?”

“That’s but one of a thousand questions about Mr. Scollard that we’ll never know the answers to.” Courtney glanced at her friend. “You’re not still upset with him, are you?”

“I suppose not. If he says he acted in my best interests, then I must have faith and believe he did.”

“I agree.” Courtney gripped the reins more tightly. “It occurred to me that if Slayde is right and Morland has been scrutinizing Pembourne for some sinister purpose, your racing off in a phaeton and truly escaping could have exposed you to Lord knows what. Consider that.”

“You’re right,” Aurora conceded. “Perhaps that’s what Mr. Scollard was alluding to.” She cast a worried look at her friend. “Which doesn’t exactly make me feel at ease about your marching into the duke’s home.”

“I have no choice. I must see him.” A pause. “Can you tell me anything about him that might help?”

“Nothing. I don’t even remember what he looks like other than his coloring and the fact that he was clutching a goblet. I know from Slayde that he’s a recluse and a drunk. I’m afraid that’s all I can tell you.”

Courtney’s jaw set. “Well, perhaps I’ll soon be able to tell you more.”

The iron gates appeared in front of them thirty minutes later.

“A formidable dwelling,” Aurora commented, as Courtney maneuvered the horses down the drive.

“It looks neglected.” Courtney assessed the thick woods and uninviting manor. “And somber.”

“Stop just before the drive bends around the house so we can hide the phaeton in the woods. You go in; I’ll conceal myself among the trees, looking very covert. That should arouse the suspicions of Slayde’s investigator—and call attention to me and away from you, allowing you ample time to get to the duke. After that, well, I’ll think of something to keep the investigator’s concentration riveted on me. For a half-hour. That’s it. Any later, and I begin shouting for help.”

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