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“That is odd.”
“I’m afraid I am not usually in that part of Town.”
Guy huffed. “Then I must assume you are never in my part of Town.”
“Most likely not,” Hawthorne said. “Corbyn mentioned your mother is ill. How is she faring?”
“Do you two busybodies have anything else to discuss but me?”
Hawthorne chuckled. “Corbyn is always thorough when he discusses an assignment.”
“I suppose so,” Guy agreed. “But to answer your question, the doctors aren’t sure what is wrong with her.”
“Have you talked with any consulting physicians?”
“I’m afraid my funds are rather limited at the moment.”
“Then allow me to help you.”
Guy gave him a curious look. “Why would you wish to help me?”
“Because I am in a position to do so,” Hawthorne replied. “My mother has a weak heart, and I know firsthand the incessant worry that goes along with that.”
“I do worry about my mother.”
“For good reason. You are her son.”
Guy knew he was in a unique situation. Lord Hawthorne was offering to pay for his mother’s medical bills. Could Guy swallow his pride and accept his help? That was asking a great deal of him.
An image of his sister and how tirelessly she worked to care for their mother came to his mind. He knew he had no choice in the matter.
Guy cleared his throat. “I would appreciate any assistance you would be willing to render for my mother.”
Hawthorne smirked. “I’m glad to hear you say that, because I already sent over a team of doctors to examine her.”
“Why would you do such a thing?”
“Corbyn and I thought it would be best if you weren’t so preoccupied with your mother and her medical bills.”
He leaned back in his seat, stunned. “I cannot thank you enough.”
Hawthorne held up his hand. “The cost of specialists is just a drop in the bucket for me, and you can thank me by finishing this assignment quickly so I can return home to my wife.”
“I have every intention to,” Guy said. “I still need to determine how the messenger was able to elude us.”
“As I mentioned before, there are many roads into Anmore.”
“That is true. I can’t help but wonder if the messenger remained in Anmore.”
Hawthorne nodded. “With any luck, he will be at the meeting tonight at the coffeehouse.”
“That would be ideal.”
Hawthorne’s eyes roamed over the interior of the coach. “It was rather nice that Corbyn allowed you the use of his coach during this assignment.”
“It was most generous of him,” Guy agreed.
The coach came to a stop outside of Miss Locke’s manor. It dipped to the side as a footman stepped off his perch to open the door.
