Page 22 of Fortune Favors the Frivolous
The boy looked up, his expression sullen and wary. A large red welt across one cheek suggested a recent and violent encounter, and Henry’s stomach tightened. “That looks painful. How did you come by it?”
The lad said nothing, pushing past Henry to lead the horse toward the mounting block. Henry followed, noting the careful way the boy moved. As if his ribs pained him.
“You should put some salve on that cheek before it festers,” Henry said conversationally. “Trouble with the other stable hands?”
The lad stopped and turned, his eyes narrowed with the suspicious wariness of someone accustomed to harsh treatment. “I dunno what business brings you here, but the master ain’t about, which is jest as well, since he’s in a right foul temper.”
Henry weighed his options. He needed information, but direct questions might make the boy clam up entirely. Still, he had to try.
“The truth is, I’m looking for someone.” He pulled out a coin, watching the groom’s eyes fix on it with hungry interest. “A stable lad who might have passed through here recently.”
“No!” The response was so fierce it made Henry start.
“No?” he prompted gently.
The lad touched his swollen cheek gingerly. “You see this? That’s what I got for letting the prisoner escape.”
Henry’s blood chilled. “Prisoner?”
“Aye. Master had a lad locked up in the tack room overnight. Said he was a spy what needed questioning. But I felt sorry for him—couldn’t have been more than fifteen, though small as a child—so I brought him some water and bread.” The boy’s voice dropped. “Door weren’t locked proper after that, if you take my meaning.”
Relief flooded through Henry so intensely he nearly staggered. Caroline had escaped on her own. “And the boy got away?”
“No problems as soon as he realized the door would open. Headed across the fields toward the London road.” The groom eyed the coin hopefully. “Master took off after him with half his men, but that were hours ago. Long gone by now, I’d wager.”
Henry handed over the coin without hesitation. “You did the right thing, helping him.”
The boy pocketed the money quickly. “Don’t much matter now. Master’ll probably dismiss me when he gets back, anyway.”
“There’s another shilling in it if you can tell me anything else,” Henry said. “About the young lady who was here last night.”
The groom’s expression darkened. “Poor little miss. Crying and carrying on something fierce when they brought her in.Master kept saying she’d thank him later, that her aunt had arranged everything proper-like.” He spat in the dirt. “Didn’t look much like a willing bride to me.”
“But she got away too?”
“Aye, the gentleman what came calling took her away safe. Caused quite the commotion, he did. Master was ready to shoot him, but then someone started throwing things through the windows. Rocks and logs and such. In all the confusion, the gentleman got the lady to his horse and away they went.”
Henry smiled grimly. “And Lord Windermere went after the stable boy instead?”
“Aye, that he did.”
“Thank you,” said Henry, tossing the boy another coin. “If anyone asks, you never saw me.”
Henry rode hard toward the London road, his mind racing. He’d assumed Windermere’s interest in Caroline was simply revenge for her interference, but what if there was more to it? What if Caroline was in even greater danger than he’d realized?
He questioned farmers and travelers along the way, following the trail of a “lad in rough clothes” who’d been spotted heading south.
With each mile that passed without finding her, his anxiety grew.
It was near midday when he spotted the traveling theater company’s colorful wagons camped in a grove beside a stream. The sight of their painted sides and theatrical banners should have been cheerful, but something about the subdued activity around the camp set him on edge.
“Good day,” he called to a silver-haired woman who appeared to be in charge. “I’m looking for someone. A young person who might have passed this way.”
The woman’s eyes sharpened with interest and wariness in equal measure. “And you are?”
“A friend,” Henry said simply. “Someone who’s very worried about a brave but foolish young person who may be in trouble.”
“Ah.” The woman—Constance, she introduced herself—studied him with the penetrating gaze of someone accustomed to reading character. “And this young person… would they be traveling in disguise, perhaps?”
