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“Yes, Your Grace,” she said, disappearing into the house. “Papa!” she called out, her footsteps disappearing down the hall.
“Macy! I told you not to answer the door,” her father said.
The girl replied, but her voice was too low for Jasper to hear. There were heavy-booted footsteps coming down the hall.
“Gillingham!” Colonel Fitz’s voice boomed. He was a large gentleman, dressed in a red coat, breeches and tall, black boots. “Your Grace! To what do I owe the honor?”
“Lord and Lady Morton were robbed out on the East Road last night,” he said, following Fitz down the hallway. The house was full to the brim with the Colonel’s children. “I was wondering if you had any deserters of late?”
The Colonel sighed, a look of concern on his face. “To tell you the truth, I did, Your Grace. They left a few nights ago, to go out on the town, and they’ve yet to return. It may be them, or they may show up in one of the inns. When they do, you can be sure they’ll be questioned.”
“Could I have descriptions of the men, so I can see if anyone has spotted them?” Jasper asked, following him into the study. It was filled with papers and books and maps.
“To be sure, Your Grace,” the Colonel replied, gesturing for him to sit. Jasper sat down. The Colonel sighed. “There are three of them, Your Grace. William Jordan is a slight man of three-and-twenty. He’s got red hair and blue eyes. Frederick Coyle is five-and-twenty. He’s got dark hair and dark eyes. And then, there’s Jack Dawson, who is also five-and-twenty. He’s brown haired and blue eyed.”
“Thank you, Colonel,” Jasper said, committing them to memory. “I’ll go to the Mortons to see if the descriptions match the men that they saw.”
“If I hear anything, I’ll send word,” the Colonel said. “I’ll keep my own eyes and ears peeled. I’ll start sending out patrols, to cover the roads.”
“Very good, Colonel,” he replied. “It might help to check the woods, too. See if anyone’s sleeping rough out there.”
“Quite right, Your Grace,” the Colonel replied, frowning. “I just can’t believe Jordan and Dawson would do something like this. Coyle, however.”
“Is he a bad sort?” Jasper asked.
“Shifty. Notorious for getting into the drink,” the Colonel mused.
* * *
“Oh, Leah,” Selina gasped, upon entering the room, where her cousin was having her first fitting for her wedding gown. The seamstress knelt beside her, placing pins. The dress was form fitting, with short sleeves, which were slightly puffed.
“Isn’t she a picture?” Aunt Georgiana asked, her hands going to her face.
“Indeed,” Selina agreed. “The Duke is a very lucky gentleman.” It pained her to say it.
“Selina,” Leah hissed. “That’s so improper.”
“Is it?” Selina asked, archly.
“I think it’s a fair statement,” Aunt Georgiana agreed. “Now, just imagine that there will be seed pearls, in place of the pouncing.”
“Oh, yes,” Selina said, looking at how a pattern of roses and vines had been picked out with a pin onto the silk—where the seamstress planned to sew in the seed pearls in place. “That’s so elegant.”
“It was Leah’s idea,” Aunt Georgiana said.
“Exquisite,” Selina said. She was trying to make peace with her cousin. Leah, it seemed, was not having it. She didn’t even smile.
“Come, Mother,” Leah said. “We were going to call on Lady Morton.”
“Oh, I’d love to come and hear her tale!” Selina said, excitedly.
“I think Lady Morton is only seeing close friends today,” Leah pointed out. “If at all.”
“Well, I wouldn’t want to overtax her,” Selina replied.
“I don’t see why Lady Morton wouldn’t want to see Selina as well,” Aunt Georgiana said.
“I think it would be asking too much of her,” Leah said, firmly. “She barely knows Selina, after all.”
