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Chapter 12
More than a week had passed since Charles had gone to the Greens’ residence and spoken to Amelia on the country lane, and he had not seen her since. Currently, with the sun beating down on him and the horses kicking up a dust cloud, he was convinced he wouldn’t ever have a chance to do so again, for he was positively going to expire in this heat.
Nick, Mr. Green, and Charles had spent the better part of the morning searching the horse auction and questioning the locals about the gypsies or any suspicious horse activity but had come up empty. No one had seen the traveling family, nor had they heard whispers of stolen horses or odd behavior among the breeders.
“Plum waste of time,” Mr. Green muttered, bouncing in his saddle on the dusty country lane. His lined, wrinkled face creased into a frown, his eyes glossing over as he surveyed the road before them.
“Not for all of us,” Nick said, glancing over his shoulder at the Halstead groom leading the horse he’d acquired. A smug smile sat on his lips and Charles chuckled.
“At least it was worth Nick’s time,” Charles said. In truth, he was growing more anxious by the minute. He’d managed to convince Amelia to give him more time to find her precious Howard, and he had nothing to show for it except postponing her ability to ask for help from someone who would likely make progress.
He’d foolishly held on to the hope that he could use this as a chance to prove to her that he’d changed—that he was no longer the lovelorn youth who would follow her about and press his attentions upon her. Now he had matured, and he kept those thoughts and feelings buried deep inside.
He merely wanted the opportunity to show her. He’d imagined it over and over again—finding Howard, returning the horse to Amelia, then walking away with a smile and nothing more. He would show her that he expected nothing, that he was only doing what any friend would. That she needn’t be concerned with him asking for anything from her in return.
But he’d failed. They all had. The auction was a blasted waste of time for everyone except Nick and his new steed.
If anything, Charles ought to have bought Amelia a horse to replace Howard. Not forever, of course, but until Howard could be found.
IfHoward could be found.
“Cheer up,” Nick said, lowering his voice as Mr. Green fell back to speak to his groom. They’d brought enough servants with them to be covered in the case that they needed to transport the four missing horses home. They’d been rather optimistic that morning.
Charles shook his head. “It’s never pleasing to return empty-handed.”
“She won’t blame you,” Nick said.
“No? I convinced her to give me another week and now I’ve squandered it. Her investigative man likely would have found the horse and returned it by now. I was just so blasted hopeful. And now I own the blame for losing the man any sort of lead he could have garnered.”
They reached the outskirts of Graton and passed Jolly standing on the street outside his inn’s door, his ruddy face conjuring up a grin as he lifted his cap, his shiny forehead glistening in the sunlight. Jolly’s unrelenting gaze and smug smile said something, but what? The men returned his gesture with waves but didn’t pause to speak to him. Charles wasn’t sure he’d be able to keep himself in check if he did.
“There’s something he’s not telling us,” Charles said, his stomach tightening.
“I don’t know what to think,” Nick said dubiously. “Unless he’s hiding some horses in his back stables, I’m not sure what he could gain from not telling us whatever he knows.”
Charles straightened. “And what if he is?”
Nick shrugged. “Surely we’d know if he was hiding any. People are in and out of the inn constantly. Someone would have seen something and informed us.”
Mr. Green pulled up alongside him again, glancing between the men. “What is it?” the older man asked, his gray eyebrows pulling together.
“We’re questioning how much Jolly knows.”
“And what he is not telling us,” Charles added.
Mr. Green waited until they’d left the main road in town before speaking again. “Shall we have a look about the place, then? See if we can discover something ourselves?”
“Uninvited?” Charles asked, his chest constricting. It was one thing to search for their animals in the light of day, in places they were legally welcome—the woods, the auction. But going into Jolly’s stables uninvited was breaking the law and fell thoroughly outside Charles’s realm of comfort.
Mr. Green clearly did not share these scruples if the fire blazing in his eyes was any clue. “Why not? He took them without invitation.”
“We have no proof of that.”
“Yet,” Mr. Green said, effectively closing the subject.
Charles and Nick shared a look. They bade Mr. Green farewell at the split in the road, and Nick followed Charles toward Falbrooke Court. “Do you think we have reason to be concerned?”
“I think Mr. Green may do what he wishes. He’s a grown man, and we needn’t worry over his choices or actions.” Charles puffed out his cheeks, shaking his head. “But I will not be breaking the law. If he would like to do that, he must look for help elsewhere.”
