Page 43 of Miss Flibbertigibbet and the Barbarian
A cleric stood on the verge above the culvert, looking down on the men.
As they slowed their horses, Nicholas glanced at Adriana. “Do you want to question the priest?”
She frowned slightly and shook her head. “He’ll just try my temper, and it’s already been tried enough this morning.”
He laughed softly. “All right. You take the men. I’ll tackle the priest.”
They drew rein a little way away, dismounted, and walked their horses to the edge of the culvert.
Nicholas hailed the priest. “Reverend?” When the man swung to face him, Nicholas smiled with ready charm. “If I might have a quick word?”
“Of course, sir.” The man stiffened his already rigid posture. He was thin and weedy, and the dull black of his cassock did his complexion no favors. “Although I should correct you there. I’m merely a curate attached to St. Mary’s in the town.” In turning to Nicholas, the curate had stepped away from the culvert. Now he glanced back and, with a deepening frown, watched Adriana as she approached the men. “As some of these workers are doing penance for their sins, I thought to come and make sure they perform as required.”
“I see.” Judging by the curate’s pursing lips, Nicholas deemed it wise to add, “Lady Adriana will not”—distract—“keep them from their work. She’ll merely ask the same questions I thought to put to you.”
“Lady Adriana?” The curate looked at Adriana with immediate respect. “Are you sure she doesn’t need help?”
“Quite sure. She’s accustomed to dealing with staff, after all.” That observation, uttered in a drawl that suggested the curate had called Adriana’s abilities into question, brought the man up short.
“Oh yes. Of course.” After a second, he refocused his rather beady eyes on Nicholas. “What did you wish to ask, sir?”
“Were you here yesterday, watching over the men?”
“I was. I’m very conscientious, you know.”
“I see. And when did they start their excavations?”
“On Thursday morning, bright and early. I walked out with them, so I can be certain about that.”
“Excellent.” That meant the curate was standing on the verge for the entire period during which the thief might have passed along the road. Having gained the man’s complete attention, Nicholas explained, “We’re trying to track the movements of a Thoroughbred horse—a very large, powerful bay stallion. I don’t suppose you’ve seen such a beast being led along the road?”
The curate frowned. “Thoroughbred stallion?” His eyes narrowed on Nicholas’s face. “Why, exactly, are you seeking this horse, sir?”
Nicholas inwardly sighed, but from his manner, the curate might actually know something. “The horse belongs to the Earl of Aisby. I was in the process of buying the horse from the earl when the beast was stolen. Consequently, the earl’s family and I are trying to find the horse. Once we do and reclaim him and subsequently finalize our deal, the horse is destined for the Cynster Stable at Newmarket.”
Usually, when he mentioned Newmarket and the Cynster name, men were only too willing to help.
Not the curate.
His eyes blazed with a zeal so bright that Nicholas blinked.
“Horse racing!”The curate uttered the words in the same tone he might employ to denounce calamitous blasphemy. “The work of the devil, sir! Why, if I’d seen that horse, I would certainly not tell you! I want no part in assisting in such corruption and sin. Such—such—”
The sputtering cut off as Adriana approached. She didn’t walk; she prowled, hips swaying.
Nicholas caught only the briefest of warning glances before she linked her arm in his and tugged him down to place a kiss on his lips. Then she looked at the curate and smiled like a cat anticipating savoring an entire dishful of cream. “Thank you for your help, sir, but clearly, it’s time I reclaimed my lover.”
So saying—and leaving the scandalized priest literally gasping—she drew Nicholas to where her mount waited, and paused so he could lift her to her saddle.
Without looking at the goggling curate or the gang of workmen who had watched the entire performance with huge grins splitting their faces, he obliged, then he drew in Tamerlane’s reins, swung up to the saddle, and nodded at Adriana. “After you, my lady.”
She battled to swallow a laugh and, smiling widely, tapped her heel to her horse’s side and, with a regal wave for the laughing men, led the way down the road, back toward Lincoln.
Grinning himself, Nicholas waited until they were out of the curate’s sight to draw alongside his savior. “Thank you. I had no idea he would react like that.”
“Obviously.” She was still grinning.
“Your…performance was rather outrageous.”
