Page 5 of A Dilemma for the Duke

“That doesn’t surprise me.” He chuckled as a distinct picture of a very independent young girl came to mind. “I’ll keep that in mind. You have my thanks for the warning.”

Adam touched the brim of his hat and headed toward the apothecary’s door.

Rockford continued along South Wickham and up King’s Way to Barrington’s manor, his mind swirling with thoughts. He admired Lady Lora’s dedication to the clinic, but his mission required his full attention. Barrington had called him to Sommer-by-the-Sea to uncover who was influencing government officials, and Rockford couldn’t afford any distractions. He would, of course, do what he could, but despite a pang of regret, he pushed thoughts of the clinic aside. Helping Lady Lora felt right, but his duty to Barrington came first.

As he approached the entrance of Sommer Chase, Barrington’s home; Sanderson, the butler, opened the door.

“Good afternoon, Your Grace. Welcome back to Sommer Chase. Lord Barrington is in his library.”

“Thank you, Sanderson. It is good to see you. I’ll find my way.”

“Very good.” The butler let him pass and closed the door behind him.

Rockford made his way through the familiar halls of Sommer Chase, his footsteps echoing softly on the polished floors. He entered the library and was immediately at ease. Large familiarcases filled with books stood on two walls and surrounded the fireplace on the third. A sideboard with goblets and decanters adorned the fourth wall. Over the sideboard hung a map of the area.

Reese Barrington’s bearing spoke of a man who carried the weight of leadership with quiet confidence. Fair and just, he was respected not only as a commander but as a protector who stood shoulder to shoulder with his men. During the Peninsula War, Barrington was the first to charge into battle and the last to leave the field, ensuring no man was left behind.

The scars of war marked him, both physically and emotionally. Severely wounded in action, he fought relentlessly to regain his strength, his determination allowing him to recover with only a limp and a few noticeable scars. The most pronounced one carved across his right cheek, discreetly softened by the clever trim of his valet’s handiwork.

His jet-black hair, now streaked with silver, lent him an air of distinguished wisdom, while his sharp Nordic blue eyes seemed to see straight to the truth of a person. Whether in the crisp lines of a uniform or the understated elegance of casual attire, Barrington’s presence commanded respect, his every move a reflection of the discipline and resolve forged in battle.

“Rockford, welcome.” Barrington rose from behind his desk, stepped forward, and extended his hand. “It’s been too long. I trust London hasn’t worn you down?”

Rockford shook Barrington’s hand firmly. “Not yet. The sail from London was pleasant enough, though I could have done without the endless political debates.” He smirked slightly. “How have you been?”

“Busy, as always,” Barrington said with a knowing nod. “And, unfortunately, dealing with a rather pressing matter.” He gestured toward the chair by the fireplace. “Please, make yourself comfortable.”

Rockford settled in as Barrington took the seat beside him.

“I’ll get right to the point,” Barrington continued. “There has been some thievery of late. A highwayman of all things. We haven’t seen one in this area for a while, but his activities have become brazen. He is a picky thief, targeting only couriers carrying messages for the King.”

“He only targets the royal courier.” Rockford paused. How odd. “No one else?”

Barrington shook his head. “No one else. He is very selective.”

Rockford leaned forward, his interest piqued. “Selective? Do we know what information the messages he’s intercepting contain?”

“He’s a clever one,” Barrington admitted. “We sent decoy messages, he ignored them. Even when we hid the message to the king among council documents, he took only that and left the rest for us to find.”

A smile tugged at the corner of Rockford’s mouth. “Decisive and deliberate, this highwayman isn’t just after money or random opportunity. He’s hunting something specific. A man with a purpose.” He leaned back, fingers steepled as his mind worked through the implications. “The message to the king… that he ignored a decoy and targeted the real one… This suggests an inside source. Someone who knows what to look for and when.”

“It’s possible there’s a connection to recent events in the area, including the opposition to the clinic project.”

Rockford’s eyes widened in surprise. “The clinic project? That’s quite a leap.”

“Perhaps,” Barrington conceded. “But we can’t rule anything out at this point. We need to investigate further.” Barrington drummed his fingers on the arm of the chair. “As youmentioned, we, too, have concluded that the thief must have someone informing him on who to stop and who to let pass.”

Rockford’s eyes narrowed. “Do you have anyone in mind?”

“There are a few who could be helping him,” Barrington replied. “But we need solid evidence before we dare approach anyone.”

“I understand your predicament. It is definitely a sensitive one.”

“The route through Baycliff Woods provides several convenient areas for our highwayman to strike. We’ve found no pattern to where he stops the courier. We thought to send the courier with an escort but all that did was make the culprit more creative. He struck at night and left a note. We decided to change the couriers but that didn’t help either. We need to stop him once and for all. I called you here because I need someone with your skills and connections to lead this investigation.”

Rockford glanced at the map, his mind already working through the possibilities. “With a secret informer working on this from the inside, we’ll need to be careful.”

“Agreed,” Barrington said grimly. “And with the king arriving on October 21st, we have little time. His visit was unexpected, but Parliament insisted on his presence to address concerns over recent political unrest. If this highwayman is after more than mere coin, His Majesty could be walking into a trap.”

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