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The butler met them at the door. “Your Grace, shall I tell your mother you will be back for dinner? She asked that I find out before you left.”
“Yes, please let her know we will be back in time.” He took his gloves from the aging butler and began putting them on. “Jeffers, have a farrier of excellent reputation examine Gracie. I want to make sure she has everything she needs. Mother is already attached.”
“Yes, Your Grace,” Jeffers said, handing both men their heavier winter attire.
Slade winced. He would have to use his brother’s title—although he hoped it would not be for long. He gave a quick nod to the rotund older man before exiting the house. The two men took the steps quickly and mounted the horses, waiting for them.
“Perhaps we should have taken the coach. Winston hates the slower traffic of London,” Slade remarked as they headed towards the port side of London. Their ship was due into port, and they were eager to speak with Mercer and Ballard to find out how the trip had gone and if there had been any further trouble. They were also eager to see Wortle and find out what he knew about Graham and some of the background information they had been seeking.
With the dinner hour fast approaching, the tavern was likely busy. That would make their visit easier. Another one of their ships had docked. A young man stood on the sidewalk outside of the tavern. Slade thought he recognized the young man from a fortnight ago when he met Wortle, although his concentration had not been the best during that visit.
“A shilling if you can watch our horses and see that they are watered,” Slade offered the young man as they dismounted.
“Yes, m’lord. Oi will take good care of them. M’ name’s Sully,” the young man said, doffing his hat and accepting the proffered coin. “Oi will take them to the stable over there,” he said, pointing across the street.
“Here’s one shilling. You will get the other when we conclude our business here,” he said, handing Winston’s lead to the young man.
“Same for me, Sully,” Latham said, handing the young boy an additional shilling.
“I ain’t never seen two more handsome ’orses,” he added. “I will brush them fer ye, fer nothing extra.”
Slade smiled. “Take care of them, is all we ask.”
Confident that the horses were being cared for, the two men walked inside the tavern, taking a few moments for their eyes to adjust to the darker light. The tavern was hopping with sailors that had come in earlier in the day. A buxom woman made her way over towards them.
“We are meeting someone here,” Slade said, looking towards the back of the bar. “Ah, I see him.” He pointed towards Wortle, who was sitting towards the back, drinking from a mug of ale.
“Two ales,” Latham said, taking his seat.
“If ye be needing a little extra, Annie can help ye out,” she said. “Blond men are my favorite,” she added, boldly rubbing up against Latham.
Slade quirked a brow of amusement at his friend.
“I do not have time for anything extra,” Latham said politely, “but I shall keep your offer in mind.”
“See that you do, milord,” she said, running her hand down his arm before turning and emphasizing her generous derriere with a pronounced movement as she returned to the front.
“She likes them blond. I believe she likes any man with . . . coin,” Slade taunted as she walked away, sipping his ale.
“Seems to.” Latham laughed, apparently used to the flattering deference given by tavern workers. “I saw Mercer and Ballard at the bar. Let me join them and allow you to catch up with Wortle. I am eager to hear about this shipment.” Latham left the table and took his ale with him.
“My lord, His Grace woke up, but his health is still shaky. He asks for you,” Wortle said quietly. “Doctor Fellows feels he will make a full recovery, although it may take the better part of the week because of possible internal wounds.”
“I am still not happy that you deliberately accomplished this behind my back. Anything could have happened to my brother with this crazy scheme. I plan to visit once we finish our meeting,” Slade complained. “One more thing. It might be easier to keep Graham’s existence more secret, if you refer to me asYour Grace. As much as I detest doing this, we should not chance creating questions and endangering Graham by referring to me asmy lord.”
“Yes, Your Grace.” The shorter man was unflinching and held his gaze.
“You mentioned having investigated Lady Evers. What do you know about her?” he pursued.
“Ah . . . here it is.” The balding man retrieved a document from his satchel. “I expected you would want to see this.”
Yes, because I asked for it.Slade turned the document over and looked up at Wortle, waiting for more explanation.
Wortle harrumphed in frustration. “It is a report on everyone Lady Evers met with while in Brighton. You had requested to know about her recent activities. We charted all the people she met.”
He looked at the chart. There were dates and descriptions of her activities and the people she had visited. He quickly scanned down the page until he saw something that resembled the information Talbert had given him. At the bottom of the page was a notation of a man she had argued with in front of her parents’ townhouse. A note next to it said,name unknown, not from Brighton. Dark hair and mustache.
“I wish I had a name,” he lamented. “This is the third time someone has mentioned a dark-haired man, yet there is little descriptor beyond the color of his hair and that he had a longish mustache.” Slade told Wortle about finding Gracie and the men Smitty spoke about. They could have been the men at the campfire.
