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The duke eyed her quietly for a moment and feeling his gaze resting on her she looked at him inquiringly. “Isn’t it good news?”
Ned stuck in sourly at that moment, “Don’t see that. What is good about it? Useless if you ask me. Now there are two of them missing that we can’t find.”
The duke held up his hand, at that and said, “Perhaps not as useless as you think, Ned. What we need now is a description of this Hawkins fellow and his habits, his haunts. He may be keeping Elly Bonner hidden, but I’ll wager he is walking about freely, thinking no one is looking for him.”
“Have it he is a big covey,” stuck in Chauncey. “A sight larger than me, square-set, thick-jawed and mean. A vulgar make bait by all accounts and wot’s more, ‘tis said he don’t pound deal.”
Mandy leaned in toward her brother and whispered, “Pound-deal?”
“Honest work, sis,” her brother supplied with a grin, evidently pleased to have one up on her.
“Thought so, just wanted to be sure,” she said and returned her attention to the duke’s face. He looked so very serious.
“Also,” put in Chauncey pulling at his lower lip, “I wasn’t outright told, but had the notion that this Hawkins covey rides the high toby a bit.”
“And does he frequent the Red Hart?” the duke asked.
“Aye, but he hasn’t been seen there in a few weeks.”
“And what about Elly?” Mandy stuck in. “Were you able to learn anything about her whereabouts?”
“More’s the pity, missy. Not a word on the chit,” Chauncey replied sighing sadly. “M’friend says he always thought her a prime mort, not up to the bobbery of ‘er covey, this Hawkins bloke. But there, no telling wot fetch a mort will take in her noddle when her heart be in it,” Chauncey pronounced.
“And what about this Bow Street Runner?” Mandy asked casting an accusing eye at the duke. She wasn’t being fair, she knew, but she couldn’t seem to control her wild and fluctuating emotions where he was concerned, and it was his fault, putting on such a superior air as though he were the only one who knew anything about everything.
“Yes,” the duke said softly, a smile curving his lips as she scowled at him. “I too would like to hear about your encounter with the runner.”
“By Jove, yes!” Ned said cheering up. “We noted this stranger had arrived at the inn, and he had a look about him. Well, can’t say, I noticed, but Chauncey here is a right ‘un, up to snuff on everything. Said the cove didn’t look like a cit, farmer or a gentleman. Said it was time we loped off. We were doing just that, when the fellow up and raises his bumper of ale at us, and calls on the weather for conversation.” Ned made a quirky face, “Right, so we told him it was well enough and what must he do but call on us to join him in a drink.” Ned shook his head and looked at Chauncey. “We nearly died on the spot because by then, we had a notion what he was, you see. Well, we tried to cry off, but he would hear nothing of it.” He gave his sister’s shoulder a shove, “Mandy, he tipped his hat and told us his name. Fowler, he said, my name is Fowler and I am looking to lease some summer lodging.”
“Oh Ned! I don’t like that, not one bit. Why you? Why of all the people at the tavern did he single you two out?”
“Aye, we didn’t like it very much either,” Ned answered. “By that time, Chauncey had managed to tell me the cove was a runner and that we had to make our way out and fast.”
“How did you know he was a runner?” Mandy asked of Chauncey.
“He gave me pricklies down me spine, he did. Suspicioned he was a redbreast the moment I clapped eyes on him—prune-faced, he is and with cat-sticks for legs. That laid all doubt to rest and then his name…could only be a runner.”
“Oh Faith! He is the one that is staying in Harrowgate. He must have known who you were…he must have.”
“Now missy, don’t take on so. As it happens I don’t think he was really interested in us. No
, seemed to be more interested in the lay of the land.”
“Well, that is interesting,” the duke put in quietly.
“Is it?” Mandy said thoughtfully, “Ah, yes he would want to know where he might find Ned in hiding…perhaps investigate by getting a feeling for the surrounding landscape.”
“Did he inquire after the abbey Ruins?” the duke asked Chauncey as he chose to ignore Mandy.
“No. He wanted to know about the York Road. Wanted to know if there were any hidden caves of limestone…any old quarries in that vicinity, like the one up at the Peak. Said he was interested in such things,” Chauncey answered.
“Aye, and then Chauncey told him we weren’t familiar with the area,” Ned stuck in.
“That’s right. Told him we were strangers ourselves. Then this noddle here,” he said indicating Ned with a wave of his hand, “Had a mind to be helpful and started to describe a track of the canyon off the Wharfe River and would have gone on and on if I hadn’t thought to spill his ale.”
Ned pulled a face and folded his arms across his chest.
Chauncey poked a finger in the air at Ned. “Told ye he was a runner. Ye don’t talk to a runner anymore than ye have to.” Having said this, he produced a length of dried beef from his inner pocket and tore a piece off and began to chew.
