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Mr. Green stood a few yards off, his gun in hand and his feet planted firmly on the green grass. “You’ve brought good news, I hope.”
Charles crossed the space between them. “Nothing much from Melbury, unfortunately. But there is to be a horse auction in Brimblecombe Thursday next.”
“We plan to go,” Nick said, “if you’d like to join us.”
Mr. Green nodded, his mouth drawn down as his serious eyes seemed to work out the development. “You can count on me.”
They discussed the parameters of their plan and how many servants they would need to bring to the auction before bidding the man farewell. Locating their horses in the front of the house, they went their separate ways. Charles waved to Nick, turning his horse toward home, distracted by the flock of starlings leaving the safety of the tree ahead of him on the lane. He directed his horse to the other side of the lane so any remaining birds wouldn’t be disturbed.
He was grateful for Nick Pepper’s help, but it was only a matter of time before the man would not be able to assist him in this search any longer. Not that Charles had much more time. Indeed, he’d promised Amelia she could reach out to her man after one week, and that week would be up well before this horse auction.
If only he could convince her to give him another week. He should have asked for a fortnight from the beginning.
Rounding the bend, Charles pulled his horse to a stop when he spotted the gig up the lane, and the lone, black-clad feminine figure sitting in it. This was a familiar sight. He recalled the moment he’d come upon Amelia in a similar situation just a few weeks ago. Only now she didn’t appear to be stuck in any mud, and neither did the wheels of her gig look broken. Was the horse giving her grief?
“Mrs. Fawn,” he called, guiding his horse forward. She glanced at him over her shoulder, and his heart stuttered. The black brim of her bonnet shaded her face, but her eyes were as clear as ice. Pausing beside her, they were nearly the same height. He didn’t know if it was a blessing or a curse, for this angle allowed him to easily look into her face. “Can I be of any assistance?”
He didn’t know why he’d asked. She’d undoubtedly refuse.
Shaking her head, Amelia offered him a small smile. “Nothing is wrong, Charles. I was lost in thought.” Her cheeks pinked, and she chuckled softly. “To be perfectly honest, I hadn’t realized that I’d stopped my gig in the road until you called to me.”
“In that case, would you care to unburden your mind?”
“It is only more of the same,” she said.
Shifting in the saddle, he drew in a breath. Of course she worried for her horse, and he wanted to be part of unburdening her trials. “Can you bear to give me a few more days? Our lead—the auction in Brimblecombe—isn’t until Thursday next, as I mentioned earlier. There isn’t much I can do before then.”
Her voice was soft, reasonable. “But if that is a good lead, perhaps I should have my man on it as well. More eyes could only be more help, surely.”
“Or it could be a waste of this man’s time. I’m not sure what he would be able to learn from the auction that I could not. Particularly with Mr. Pepper and Mr. Green’s help.”
“Unless Giulia has her baby before then.”
“Yes,” he agreed, a smile tugging at his mouth. “That would put me down a man. But even then, I expect your brother might be interested in joining us.”
“He likely would. But I just think that the quicker I write to Mr. Boyle—”
“Please,” Charles said, knowing it was pointless but determined to try anyway. Would this woman ever find him a worthy man, even just as a friend with a deep desire to be of assistance? “I am only trying to help—to be a good friend.”
Something in Amelia’s countenance changed. She paused as if reconsidering. “Very well.”
Charles froze. She had agreed to give him more time? Truly?
“No need to appear so shocked, Charles. I am not an unreasonable creature.”
No, she was an incredible creature. “Thank you, Mrs. Fawn. You shall not regret it.”
Now he only had to make sure that was true.
