‘Yes, he does,’ she confirmed, striving to concentrate on her horses, and ignore the warmth exuding from that powerful frame too closely positioned beside her in the seat. ‘Grandfather engaged him shortly after I came to live in his house. I must confess I resented it at first, not being allowed to go out on my own, but I’ve grown accustomed,’ she admitted. ‘Not that I think his presence is necessary. Nothing ever happens down here.’
‘That isn’t what I’ve heard,’ he countered, swift as a flash. ‘I understood you came upon a body, lying in the road, not so very long ago.’
Emily didn’t attempt to hide her surprise. ‘How on earth did you discover that? I don’t believe Grandfather told you. I doubt he even recalls the incident.’
‘No, it was Sir George Maynard, as it happens. I believe I mentioned I called to see him yesterday. When he discovered I was acquainted with you, it—er—came up in the conversation.’ Sebastian paused to study the delicate profile once more. ‘It must have been very distressing for you, Em.’
‘It certainly wasn’t a pleasant experience,’ she admitted. ‘He came stumbling out of Kempton Wood, just a little further along this road. I thought I’d hit him at first, but then I discovered he’d been shot.’
‘He wasn’t dead, then, when you found him?’
‘No, but he died shortly afterwards. At first Finn thought it might be a trap, but we didn’t see anyone else about. The man appeared to have sustained a beating before he was shot. The attack must have occurred sometime before we came along. None of us heard a firearm being discharged.’ Emily drew the curricle to a halt as they arrived at the spot where the incident occurred. ‘Somehow, though, the poor devil managed to summon up sufficient strength to get himself as far as the road. It was just about here.’
His lordship took a moment to gaze about him, before asking, ‘And he didn’t give a clue as to his own identity, or the identity of his assailants?’
It was at that moment, as she watched those shrewd grey eyes continue to scan the woodland off to the left, that it occurred to Emily that he was betraying an uncommon interest, and that perhaps far more lay behind the seemingly innocent questions than mere idle curiosity. ‘No, he didn’t. Why do you ask?’
When finally he returned his attention to her, there was something oddly disturbing in his gaze. ‘Would it surprise you to know that I still concern myself about you? If there is a lawless gang in the area, preying on the occasional hapless traveller, I shouldn’t wish for you to become the next victim. You are still very…precious to me, Em.’
She swallowed in an attempt to rid herself of the painful ache which had suddenly attacked her throat, and hurriedly turned her head to stare at the road ahead, lest her expression betray the depth of feeling she still retained for him. ‘I thank you for your concern, sir,’ she said at length, relieved to discover that her voice at least remained steady, ‘but I think in this case your anxiety is misplaced. I have not heard of any other such incidents in the locale in recent months. Besides which, I do not personally believe that he was set upon by scoundrels, bent on relieving him of any valuables he might have been carrying. I strongly suspect that he was killed for a completely different reason.’
Suddenly aware that Charles’s phaeton was some distance ahead, Emily instructed her bays to move off, and they were soon bowling along at a smart pace, proving to Sebastian that she could handle the team well, her hands light but in full control.
‘What makes you suppose that?’ he enquired, when she had successfully caught up with their friends and could concentrate once more on something other than her horses.
‘Oh, because of something he said to me before he died,’ she answered, having little difficulty in picking up the threads of their former conversation. ‘It didn’t make much sense at the time, but I’m beginning to think that it was some sort of code.’
‘Sounds mysterious,’ he declared, as they reached the outskirts of the thriving market town.
‘Yes, it is rather. He uttered three things before he died—kestrel, raven, 16th at midnight. Ravens Wood just happens to be the old name for Kempton Wood. It’s my belief he wanted “The Kestrel” to be in the wood tonight at midnight. But as I’ve no idea who this “Kestrel” might be, he’s destined, I fear, to miss the assignation.’
‘Yes, so it would seem,’ he agreed, sounding faintly bored with the subject now. ‘Ahh! It would appear that Charles has decided to stop for refreshments at the inn. Shall we be hospitable and join them? Then perhaps you’d allow me to take the ribbons on the return journey?’
‘Nervous, Hawk?’ she teased, easily relapsing into that wonderful camaraderie which had existed between them.
‘I have never been less so,’ he assured her, smiling in a way which made her foolish heart lurch painfully. ‘Finn has taught you well. However, at the risk of sounding pompous, I believe there are one or two small pointers I can teach you that you might find of value.’
It was some time later, after she had arrived back at her grandfather’s house, and Charles and Sebastian had taken their leave, that Emily began to dwell upon what had been a surprisingly enjoyable impromptu visit to Kempton, and once again began to feel a little suspicious about Sebastian’s interest in what had taken place by the wood two weeks before. It might, of course, have been nothing more than idle curiosity, and she didn’t doubt that he had been genuinely sincere when he had voiced concerns for her safety, but even so she couldn’t rid herself of the niggling suspicion that there had been more to his interrogation than mere inquisitiveness.
Leaving Sarah to pore over the latest fashion journals in the front parlour, Emily invaded the privacy of her grandfather’s sanctum. She had never made a habit of doing so during the years she had resided in his house, but it was not totally unknown for her to sit with him from time to time, quietly reading a book. When she made no attempt to select something of interest, and merely seated herself in the chair beside his desk, her somewhat taciturn grandsire did elect to abandon the paper he was perusing long enough to enquire what she wanted.
‘You haven’t come here to ask me more questions about rooks and ravens, kestrels and hawks, have you, by any chance?’
‘No, Grandpapa, I just…What did you say?’ An amazing possibility having suddenly occurred to her, Emily raised her eyes to the feathered specimens in their glass cases. ‘Kestrels and hawks…hawks and kestrels,’ she repeated, rising so abruptly to her feet that the chair she had been sitting on almost toppled over. ‘Oh, what a fool I’ve been! I should have realised at once. Of course, that’s it!’
Leaving her grandfather to stare after her in some astonishment, Emily whisked herself out of the room and returned to the parlour, where Sarah betrayed no less surprise when informed that her help was urgently required.
‘Heavens, Emily! Whatever is the matter?’
‘I’ve been a fool, that’s what the matter is! I should have guessed…I should have realised at once!’ She began to pace up and down, cursing herself under her breath for being such a simpleton. ‘I should have known that he didn’t come down here just to attend Drusilla’s birthday party. She isn’t his type, unless his tastes have changed drastically. And I do not believe now that they have! No, he came here for an entirely different reason. And I’m determined to prove that I’m right!’
Sarah placed the fashion journal to one side. ‘What on earth are you talking about?’
‘I haven’t time to explain now. I’ve too much to think about, and it will take careful planning. Finn mustn’t discover what I’m up to.’