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It had been almost fifteen years since she’d seen her mother. The last rumor she’d heard was that her mother had remarried and ran an inn somewhere near Devon. She tried to make enquiries as soon as she landed on English soil but had not gotten anywhere.
The sound of waves breaking on the shore reached her and she heaved a sigh, knowing she was near the beach. However, she would have to find the right cove and leave a message for the smuggler and then after that, she would have to wait. She quickened her footsteps, eager to get it over with. Sliding down the hill, she landed hard on the beach and paused, to catch her breath. She was a little giddy with hunger and feeling a little weak from too little rest and too much emotion.
She dropped down onto the sand, tucking her legs beneath her, leaning back against the rocks and closed her eyes.
“I’ll just rest here for a while.”
* * *
Saying goodbye to George in the morning did not go any easier than telling him about Letty. He clung to Bertram, begging him not to leave. In the end, Bertram had to hand him forcefully to his nanny who hurried away with him. The Duke left on his horse with a heavy heart, feeling as if he could do nothing right.
His valet, who doubled as his batman while he was at the barracks, rode behind him in addition to two soldiers. They rode fast to get to where the army was billeted as soon as possible. Since they were not changing horses, they needed several hours, giving the horses some rest.
The road was deserted and they rode without hindrance, stopping for lunch on the edge of some cliffs, where they could see the ocean laid out before them.
“Your Grace, is that a body in the sand?” one of his soldiers pointed to a group of rocks against which the unmistakable form of a woman lay.
Bertram frowned, looking around him. “Can we get down there somehow?”
The soldier walked a few paces away, searching diligently. “Yes, Your Grace. There is a footpath here although it is rather steep.” The soldier pointed to a narrow walkway which had been made in the tall grass, undoubtedly from people walking along it.
Bertram started down, his heart beating with anxiety. He had an awful feeling he knew who that body might be and he prayed the entire way that he was wrong.
What would she be doing here anyway?She was supposed to return to her people!Likely it is somebody else.
Bertram repeated that to himself as he slid down the hill and landed with a thud in the sand. The woman’s form did not stir in spite of the noise he and his men were making and he grew more worried. Whether or not it was Letty, the woman likely needed some help.
He bent over her, reaching out to shift the cloak that hid her face. “Ma’am? Are you all right?” He gasped, dropping the worsted wool as her face came into view. He dropped to his knees, shaking her, “Letty! Miss Strange! Wake up for me, come on.”
She made a moaning sound of protest, batting his hand away weakly and he sighed with relief. “Wake up,” he shouted.
“Le’ me ‘lone,” she murmured sleepily not bothering to open her eyes. He looked around her, searching for a bag or any provisions but there were none. He reached for her forehead, feeling it gently.
“She’s burning up,” he said, looking up at his batman.
“Shall we carry her up to the ‘orses?” The batman looked dubious about his own suggestion as the hill they’d come down was quite steep.
“I can fetch the horses instead,” one of the soldiers said.
Bertram nodded. “Yes, you do that. I shall wait here with her.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
Both soldiers turned to go while his batman hunkered down beside him, staring down at Letty. “Is she asleep or has she fainted?” he whispered.
Bertram took hold of her shoulders so that he could edge her head into his lap. “I think she’s just asleep but clearly not well.” He picked up her hand which was stained with dirt. “I think she’s been sleeping in the wild and has thus made herself sick.”
“What will we do with her?” Tom, asked.
Bertram sighed, “We’ll take her with us to the barracks. She can see a physician there.”
Tom frowned. “Is this not the baker that ran off, sir?”
Bertram stared at him. “Who said she ran off?”
Tom blanched, rearing back a bit as if afraid that the Duke might hit him. “Meaning no offence, sir, but didn’t you ask for her to be apprehended a few days ago?”
Bertram blinked, recalling that hehadasked for Letty to be tracked down on the day of his dinner party. It seemed so long ago now. “Oh, well…” he waved a hand, “that was a misunderstanding.”
