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Memories of the night before threatened to overwhelm her—the way he touched her, the way his kisses chased all her fears away, the way when he stroked into her nothing else seemed important.
“Look, Mia, I’m not going to lie to you. Fletch isn’t the only one standing on the edge. What scares me the most is that I want to take his hand and jump in with him, but if I’m going to do that…”
“Would you? Could you walk away from everything we’ve done? Just call it a day and walk into whatever happily ever after looks like for you?”
“I’m not sure I couldn’t. We’ve been doing this a long time. We’ve both given up huge chunks of our lives, taken huge risks, and forsaken most of those who were once close to us. Don’t you think we deserve to have a happily ever after? Sometimes I wonder if we haven’t paid whatever dues we owe ourselves or anyone else?”
“I know your granda didn’t believe that.”
“Maybe. Or maybe he just found a way to strike back at the men who got him tossed out of the army with a dishonorable discharge. And maybe he thought it was some kind of penance he had to pay for my parents’ death.”
“You were never his penance. He adored you. You were his world. I watched him watch you compete—saw him beam as you cleared every jump.”
“He worked for a man he loathed in order to keep me with him and to give me the things he thought I should have, and each day it ate a tiny bit of his soul away. I know it was Sir Godfrey’s father, but still, without his ill-gotten gains, he never could have dragged his noble, but impoverished, family out of the gutter so his son could have the best education and attract a wealthy wife.”
Mia laid her hand on Claire’s arm. “I don’t think he regretted his decision. Seeing you shine—seeing you become the woman you are. I know he would make the same choices again. Are you sure about Fletch?”
Claire was quiet and then closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. “My heart wants to be, but my brain isn’t convinced. And neither is he. He did search my place, right? Perhaps I should return the favor.”
“Search his room at the Savoy?”
“No. That’s his hotel room. His home is in Devon, at Albion Farm. It shouldn’t be too hard to find.”
“We don’t really think he threatened you, do we?”
“I don’t know, and that’s what makes me think I should find out if he has anything. I’m so fucking confused. I can’t see him actually sending me to prison, but I could see him making a threat to force my hand and either turn to him for help or walk away completely.”
“Welcome to the reality the rest of us have to live with.”
“What do you mean?”
“For as long as I’ve known you, you’ve had a clear vision of your path. At first it was to beat people like the Robbins at their own game so you could get your grandfather out of there. Then once you knew what he was doing, his cause became your own.”
“I need answers, and I think some of them may well lie in Devon. Do you think you could head back to London and keep an eye on him for me?”
“Absolutely. In fact, let’s make this a two-pronged attack.”
“What are you thinking?”
Mia pulled out two small electronic recording devices. “What do you say you go to Devon, search the place and then plant a bug. I’ll do the same in his hotel room.”
“That sounds like a plan. Do you still have that cell phone tracker app you put on our phones?” Mia nodded. “Good. That way the first chance I have to get to his phone, I can download it onto his. He won’t know or be able to track it back to us, right?”
“Yes. It’s the same one a lot of parents use to keep an eye on their kids. All you have to do is open the app on your phone, get it within a foot to eighteen inches of his phone, and hit install on the app’s menu. It takes about fifteen seconds to do. Keep in mind if he’s got Carter working for him, he may be sweeping his room at the Savoy. These little beauties,” Mia said, holding up the bugs, “are my own design. They have a limited jamming capability that will make them more difficult to detect. I’m not saying Carter wouldn’t find them if he was looking for them, but they might pass a general sweep.”
“Anything to tie it back to us?”
“None.”
“Then we have little to lose and everything to gain.”
After Mia left, Claire settled down to see if she could find an address for Fletch’s farm in Devon. Surprisingly, she entered ‘Albion Farm’—the guy really did have a thing for Robin Hood—and sure enough, he had a website, which listed the farm’s address. She needed to dress the part of a prospective buyer. If he caught her, there would be no explanation but some variation of the truth, but if she was seen casually by someone just driving by, she needed to be wearing breeches and boots. If anyone other than Fletch confronted her about being there, she could present herself as a prospective buyer and say she was looking for him. She groaned, breeches hugging her chafed thighs did not sound comfortable, but this might be her only chance to take a look around his farm.
Claire went back to her bedroom, relinquishing the comfy pajama pants in favor of a pair of breeches. She pulled on riding boots and opted to wear the cashmere sweater she’d had on earlier. Grabbing a travel mug of coffee, she headed out to her garage, which had once been part of the original mill structure. She had three vehicles to choose from—her vintage Triumph Spitfire, her reliable lorry with which she pulled her horse trailer, and her Range Rover. The Spitfire was the most fun as it was a convertible, and it was a gorgeous day, but inconspicuous it was not. The lorry was the most in keeping with her ‘cover’ as a prospective buyer. The Range Rover was actually the most comfortable, the most practical and could be appropriate for someone coming to look at Fletch’s horses.Range Rover it is!
After checking the petrol and opening the panoramic sunroof, she headed west out of Greenwich toward Devon. It was an almost four-hour drive—too long to listen to her own thoughts; better to listen to music and sing along. The time passed quickly as the drive itself was beautiful, and Claire loved to drive. The two places she did her best thinking were driving one of her vehicles or riding one of her horses. She queued up her Pandora playlist for ‘driving songs,’ and closed in on her target. One thing she had learned to do while casing various homes and museums was to blend in. Hopefully that wouldn’t come into play today, but it was a good tool to have in her arsenal.
Naturally, Fletch’s property had to be in the northwest corner of Devon, but she could immediately see what had attracted him to it. Albion Farm was a glorious piece of property, with rolling, lush pastures located on the headland above what appeared to be a private beach. Driving past the entrance to his farm, she looked for a place to park the Range Rover where it couldn’t be easily seen. She followed a dirt track that headed toward the beach and realized she’d found the spot where the local teens came to party and hang out. She planned to be gone long before any of them should show up. Locking the Range Rover, she began to make her way back along the beach to Fletcher’s home.
