Sarah stood abruptly, if only to feel more dignified, or perhaps just taller. Mr. Curtis stood as well, but without showing any of the concern that Sarah felt. Penelope remained seated but looked entirely composed. But then, she had been conspiring about this for days; what reason did she have to feel uneasy?
Sarah watched Halford motion with his arm toward the hallway and felt decidedly unnerved to think that this man who had been hired to protect her had been out there all this time. She wondered if he’d been able to overhear their conversation, and she also wondered how much he knew about what was going on.
A man stepped into the room; his hair was as black and curly as her own, and clearly as unmanageable. He was a few inches taller than Halford, whom Sarah knew to be average height. He had hair on his face that could in no way be described as a beard; it was more like he’d been too lazy to shave for a day or two. After appraising his ridiculously perfect features and dark eyes for barely a second, Sarah hurried to take in the way he was dressed. His black boots and dark breeches looked well-worn and boldly declared that they had been chosen for comfort; his white shirt with blousy sleeves and a high collar looked dingy—not as if it were dirty, but more because it was old. However, his waistcoat, the front of which was predominantly black, woven into an exquisite pattern with small amounts of red and gold, looked as fine and new as if he intended to wear it to a grand social occasion. The contrast of his attire confused Sarah and took her slightly off guard, but as she met his gaze falling directly upon her, she had the distinct impression that the way he dressed was clearly intended to confuse people and take them off guard. She estimated him to be about a decade older than herself, and she couldn’t deny that he was handsome. But she wouldn’t have cared if he was as ugly as a pig. Either way, she didn’t want her life to be controlled by him or any other man.
Before there was time for any introductions, he bowed slightly toward her and said with perfect respect, “Darius Noble, m’lady, at your service.”
“And are you?” Sarah asked him, knowing the subtle sharpness in her voice was directed at the situation—not at him—but she hardly knew how to explain that in the moment.
“Am I what?” he asked, standing straight again. “At your s—”
“Noble,” she said.
“I try to be,” he replied humbly, which took her off guard again.
Sarah cleared her throat softly while she struggled to know what to say next; the silence of everyone else in the room made it evident they intended for her to handle the situation from this point forward. “I’ve been told,” she began, “that you’ve been hired to protect me.”
“How very convenient,” he said with a slight twitch of his lips. “I’ve been told exactly the same thing.”
Sarah didn’t appreciate his attempt at humor, given her foul mood. “In light of all the unanswered questions regarding the present situation . . . I assume you’ve been informed of the present situation.”
“I have,” he said, completely respectful again.
“How do I know that I can trust you?” Sarah asked him.
“Sarah,” Halford said, mildly reproachful.
“No, it’s all right,” Mr. Noble said, holding up a hand toward Halford. “It’s a fair question.” He motioned around the room with his hand. “Do you trust the people who hired me?”
“Yes,” she said without having to think about it.
“I’ve known Mr. Halford for as long as I can remember,” Mr. Noble continued. “I know how dear you are to him. I doubt he would put your safety into the hands of anyone he didn’t trust.”
“You make a fair point,” Sarah said.
“Shall we sit down?” Halford suggested.
“I’d rather stand,” Sarah said firmly. She was more than a head shorter than Mr. Noble, but standing to face him still boosted her confidence. “And when exactly will your protection begin?” she asked.
“My lady,” he said with two little crinkles showing between his dark eyebrows, “I have been protecting you for days now.”
Sarah gasped, then wished she hadn’t. “How is that possible?”
“I have been here for days. I’m well aware of when you are settled in for the night, and when you leave the house.”
“And yet I haven’t seen you,” she protested.
“That’s what makes me so good at what I do,” he said with a smile, but his words were more a statement of fact than any hint of bragging. “If I don’t want to be seen, I won’t be seen.”
“And what of this . . . concern that my food or tea might be poisoned as my father’s was?” Sarah asked, hating to consider how much that question above all others had been haunting her.
“I’ve conversed with Poppy more than once,” he said. “She didn’t tell you because she didn’t want you to be alarmed, and we had decided to delay this meeting until after the inquest—with the hope that it wouldn’t even be necessary. Although when I heard what the doctor had told Mr. Halford, I didn’t need any official inquest to tell you he’d been murdered. And until we know who and why, you and I are going to be very good friends.”
“Unless you don’t want me to see you,” Sarah said; she couldn’t resist. “You won’t be seen unless you want me to see you? Is that how it works?”
Mr. Noble smiled, however subtly, before continuing his explanation. “Poppy has been making certain that everything you eat or drink is coming directly from the pots and serving dishes in the kitchen—those from which all the household would eat—before bringing it directly to you.”
“I see,” Sarah said, feeling a little miffed at being kept out of this plan everyone else had been in on, but at the same time relieved to know that there was a plan; she couldn’t deny that she’d been afraid, and for all that she wasn’t keen on the idea of her and Mr. Noble becoming very good friends, she couldn’t deny being grateful to know that someone with his skills would be watching out for her. More focused on her gratitude now, she said with less petulance, “I appreciate your efforts, Mr. Noble. I must admit this has all been rather . . . unnerving.”
“Then I hope your knowing I’m nearby will offer you some peace of mind,” Mr. Noble said as if it were his sincerest wish. “However, before we make this official, I have one absolute stipulation regarding those I am hired to protect.”
“And what is that?” Sarah asked, sounding mildly defensive.
“Are you certain you don’t want to sit down?” Mr. Noble asked, and she noticed Halford and Mr. Curtis were also still standing. Of course, it would have been impolite for them to sit while a lady was in the room and on her feet. But Sarah just wanted to hurry and get this over with.
“I’m fine,” she insisted.
“You must do everything I ask of you—everything,” Mr. Noble said as if it were a matter of life and death. Perhaps it was. “It doesn’t matter whether you understand my reasons at the time; if you don’t follow my instructions—precisely—I cannot keep you safe.”
Sarah pulled her shoulders back, not liking this but unable to deny the logic. “And if I do follow your instructions, how can I be certain you’ll keep me safe?”
He looked as if her question was difficult to answer, which made her slightly nervous. But he said with firm confidence, “There will always be things I cannot control, but I promise you I will do everything in my power to keep you safe; it will be my most prominent responsibility for as long as it’s necessary.”
Sarah sighed and knew she couldn’t protest. But she hated it! She hated all of it! But she felt more scared than proud. “Very well,” she said.
“Good,” he said in a brief, triumphant syllable, as if that was all he’d needed to hear to seal their agreement. “Then we must be on the move as quickly as possible.”
“What?” Sarah countered.
“For now, you cannot stay in this house and remain safe, m’lady,” he said resolutely. “You, myself, Poppy, and Mr. Evans—a man who works driving your carriages and has come highly recommended by Halford as being trustworthy—will be leaving as soon as your things are packed. Poppy has informed the housekeeper that you need a holiday to recover from your father’s death; however, it’s not as if everyone here doesn’t know by now that your father was murdered and there are other reasons for your leaving.”
“But . . .” Sarah began until she immediately recalled that she had just agreed to do everything he told her to do.
“I know you don’t want to leave your home, m’lady, but I can assure you that you are much safer elsewhere—in fact I would venture to guess that this is the worst place you could be right now. I daresay the entire county is likely unsafe for you and those traveling with you, which means the sooner I get you far away from here, the better for all of us.”
Sarah pondered this for several seconds, attempting to come up with any reasonable argument. She didn’t want to leave home, but neither could she dispute anything she’d just been told. The situation was deplorable, but that didn’t mean any of the people in this room could change it—as much as they might want to.
“Very well,” she said. “With Poppy’s help we should be packed and ready within an hour.”
“Excellent,” Mr. Noble said, and Sarah hurried out of the room before anyone could say anything else to her. She had the sudden urge to cry and didn’t want to engage in any further conversation that might tempt her tears to the surface.
By the time she’d reached her room she had wiped away a few stray tears and managed to choke back the remainder of her emotion. Right now, she had to focus on remaining safe, and leaving with Evans and Mr. Noble seemed the only feasible way to make that happen. She was glad to know Evans would be going with them. She’d been acquainted with him for years and he’d always been very kind to her.
Just before arriving in the hallway where her rooms were situated, it occurred to Sarah that she could not leave here without taking the box in the bottom of her wardrobe. It was conspicuous and would be awkward to carry. She knew because she’d carried it a good long way from the secret pantry to her bedroom. Thankfully an idea occurred to her before she reached the door of her bedroom.
Sarah wasn’t surprised to find Poppy in her room, waiting to see what the verdict might be, both in regard to the inquest and what she’d known that Sarah hadn’t—that she’d already been under the protection of Mr. Darius Noble.
“We’re leaving within the hour,” was the first thing Sarah said to her. “Please have someone bring my largest traveling trunk here and we’ll both pack our things in it; it will be less complicated that way. We can talk while we’re packing.”
“Very good,” Poppy said and hurried away.
Sarah tried to quell her nerves while she started gathering her most practical belongings and laying them out on the bed. She realized they needed to pack light, with only the minimum necessities, and surely they could acquire new things if they needed them. For that very reason she dug out some money she kept hidden and stuffed it into a deep, discreet pouch of her pocketbook. She assumed that Halford had arranged for Mr. Noble to be paid his fees—and traveling expenses—but she didn’t want to be without money on the outside chance that they became separated for some reason.
A manservant brought in the large trunk she’d used when traveling with her father and left it on the floor. Sarah thanked him, and Poppy arrived only a moment after he left. Needing some minutes alone with the trunk, Sarah said to Poppy, “I hate to be a bother, but I admit this is all very stressful. Would you very much mind getting me some fresh tea from the kitchen, and perhaps some biscuits or scones to settle my stomach a bit?”
“I’d be happy to,” Poppy said, cheerful as always—even though she too knew they were hurriedly leaving their home. “I’ll get some for myself while I’m at it.”
“I assumed you would,” Sarah said lightly, and they exchanged a smile that let Sarah know Poppy would be by her side, helpful and supportive as always, no matter what happened.
As soon as Sarah knew that Poppy was no longer in view of the room, she carefully closed the door and locked it, along with the sitting room door. It took her only a minute to get the box containing the sword from the bottom of her wardrobe and put it into the bottom of the trunk, thankfully with inches to spare on every side. A few minutes later she had carefully placed one of her pairs of shoes at each end of the box which kept it from sliding from one end of the trunk to the other, and she put carefully folded clothing along the sides and over the top of it, concealing it perfectly, leaving plenty of space to add a few more things and all that Poppy would need. She knew that eventually she would have to tell Poppy about the sword—if Poppy didn’t find it first. But they didn’t have time for that conversation now. And for some reason Sarah felt as if the people she cared about were safer not knowing about it. For now, she was simply grateful to know that she’d found a way to take it with her, and no one would be the wiser.
Poppy returned with a tea tray after Sarah had unlocked the doors and made herself appear to be relaxing after having done most of her packing.
“Oh, you’re practically finished,” Poppy exclaimed, glancing at the trunk.
“I’ll help you with your things,” Sarah said, not only for the sake of getting packed more quickly, but also to make certain that Poppy didn’t start rearranging things and inadvertently come across the strange box in the bottom of the trunk.
They sat down together and shared tea, taking enough time to enjoy it, but not dawdling since they needed to hurry. While Sarah checked her drawers and wardrobe to make certain she had everything she might need, Poppy went to her room to gather her own things. Within twenty minutes they had the trunk packed with room to spare, and Poppy closed the lid and latched it. Deciding they didn’t need to wait for anyone to carry the trunk downstairs, they donned the cloaks they would need to wear outside on this brisk autumn day before they each took hold of one of the handles on either end of the trunk and carried it down the stairs, which wasn’t difficult considering that it wasn’t heavy.
When they set the trunk down in the front foyer of the house, they found Darius Noble pacing impatiently. Sarah was immediately struck by the coat he wore over the clothes he’d been wearing earlier. She couldn’t recall ever feeling such an interest in a man’s coat; but the way it seemed to wear him, as opposed to the other way around, forced her to stop and take notice. It was as black as his hair, which was evident from the way he had the collar turned up as if to stave off a cold wind from getting to his neck. The fabric appeared to be prepared to take on any kind of weather, and it looked well-worn but still rather fine. The top was well-fitted as if it had been tailored especially for him, and from the waist down it was full and hung nearly to his knees, with a slit in the back going to the waist, which she knew made it possible for him to wear it while riding a horse.
Sarah was surprised to feel Poppy nudge her with an elbow.
“What?” Sarah asked, startled from her thoughts.
“What are you staring at?”
“His . . . coat,” Sarah answered honestly, not adding that she was inexplicably fascinated with the way he wore it so well, and how it moved around his legs as he paced and turned.
“His coat?” Poppy echoed and laughed softly.
Sarah was relieved to be saved from any further explanation when Mr. Noble noticed the women and said, “I would have gladly carried the trunk down the stairs for you.”
“No need for that,” Sarah declared, glad for an opportunity—if only a small one—to prove to him that she wasn’t accustomed to being doted upon and coddled; and while she might need a protector, she certainly didn’t need any kind of manservant following her around. Poppy was very good at seeing to Sarah’s every need, but Sarah also helped Poppy each day with certain things; they could take care of each other and she wanted Mr. Noble to know that.
“Only one trunk?” he asked, glancing at both of them.
“We’re sharing,” Sarah told him with no further explanation.
“I’ll just . . . secure it onto the top of the carriage,” he said, and Sarah couldn’t argue with the fact that she had no capability of doing that. She nodded and watched Mr. Noble pick up the trunk and hoist it onto one of his more-than-adequate shoulders. “I expected it to be heavier,” he commented, heading to the door, which had been left open, and through which the waiting carriage could be seen, harnessed to four fine bays.
“Did you think,” Sarah asked him, only slightly sarcastic, “we might pack some elaborate gowns on the chance that this adventure of running and hiding might include a fancy ball?”
“Maybe,” he said, smirking at her in a way that surprisingly put her at ease instead of putting her on the defensive.
Sarah watched him walk out the door, and through the opening she could see Evans helping him secure the trunk to the top of the carriage, along with a couple of much smaller trunks, which she assumed belonged to the men. Sarah then turned her attention to the foyer in which she stood. She instinctively reached for Poppy’s hand and they shared a tight squeezing of each other’s fingers. No words were needed for Sarah to know that Poppy shared her feelings as she seemed to be silently bidding farewell to her home and all that she loved here. She wondered if anyone would come to see them off, but Mr. Noble came back in to tell them they needed to leave, and beyond the sound of his voice, the house felt eerily quiet. Sarah and Poppy followed him outside and just as they were about to get into the carriage Halford and Penelope burst out of the door in a run that had her aunt gasping for breath.
“Oh, good,” Halford said. “We’re not too late.”
Sarah ignored all propriety and hugged Halford tightly, feeling somehow as he returned her embrace that something of her father might be present. He looked into her face and took her shoulders. “Noble will take good care of you, and he will communicate with me your whereabouts and such through a safe method. Try not to worry.”
Sarah nodded but couldn’t speak. Penelope took a turn at hugging Sarah as her breathlessness turned to sobbing. Sarah just hugged her aunt tightly and forced a smile as she pulled back, saying with a positive lilt that felt hypocritical, “Everything will be all right.”
Penelope nodded and pressed her handkerchief over her mouth as Sarah turned to find that Poppy was already in the carriage, Evans was comfortably situated on the box seat, reins in hand, and Mr. Noble was standing at the door of the carriage, holding out his hand in a silent offer to help her inside so they could be off. Sarah gave her aunt and Halford one final wave and turned to look at her protector. When their eyes met, he seemed to read her mind as he said quietly, “We will hope and pray that all of this gets solved as quickly as possible, and in the meantime, I will do everything in my power to keep you and Poppy safe. I swear it.” Sarah nodded and put her hand into his, grateful for his help. Stepping into a carriage while managing skirts and petticoats was always a challenge. Any determination to show him she could be independent didn’t seem to matter as she felt the strength of his hand practically lifting her up the step and into the carriage. The moment he let go of her he folded the step out of view, closed the carriage door, and stepped onto the wheel to launch himself onto the box seat next to Evans. Sarah could only see his boot as he did so, but she felt the carriage rock with his movements, and the second he was seated they were in motion, as if Mr. Noble believed they couldn’t get away from here fast enough. Sarah couldn’t deny feeling that way herself. Her sadness over leaving home was definitely overpowered by her fear of staying. And perhaps it wasn’t until she’d been confronted with the results of the inquest, and the realization that someone had been hired to protect her that she had allowed herself to honestly face the depths of her fear. Tucked inside the carriage as it moved away from Castle Courtenay, she was surprised to note that she felt more relaxed already. She only wished she had any idea of what exactly Mr. Noble’s plans might include from here. She had no idea where they were going or what they might do when they got there, but for now she simply breathed in the fresh air of safety and tried to relax.
* * * * *
Sarah and Poppy were both delighted to realize that a hamper of food had been left on the seat of the carriage. Since they stopped only once before nightfall—and that was barely long enough to use the personal facilities at a pub, and to feed and water the horses—they were glad to have generous helpings of fruit, raw vegetables, and sliced, buttered bread. There was also an abundant variety of biscuits. During their brief stop Sarah asked Mr. Noble if he and Evans would like some of the food; they certainly had plenty to share and she didn’t want the men going hungry.
“You’re very kind,” he replied, “but we were supplied with our own hamper filled to the brim and we’ve been enjoying it very much.”
“Are the two of you doing all right up there?” Sarah asked, glancing toward Evans who was carefully attending to the horses.
“Very well, indeed,” Evans declared.
“And you?” Sarah asked Mr. Noble who was also standing nearby.
“I am supposed to be looking out for you, m’lady,” he said with a smile, “not the other way around.”
“You’re supposed to protect me,” she clarified. “But I don’t want either of you going hungry while we’re . . . going wherever it is that we’re going.”
“Again . . . you’re very kind,” he said, “but I can assure you we’re fine. The weather is perfect for traveling and we’re making good time.”
“Excellent,” she said, not daring to ask where they were going—and perhaps not wanting to know.
“So, m’lady, we shall—”
“Will you do me an enormous favor?” she asked.
“If I can,” he replied, and she noted how he didn’t agree without knowing what she might ask.
“I would prefer you not call me . . . m’lady. I don’t like it at all, and if—as you put it—we’re going to become very good friends, I would prefer less formality.”
“Very well,” he said, sounding surprised. “What would you prefer that I call you?”
“You call Poppy by her given name; I would prefer the same. Sarah.”
He looked even more surprised and she wondered if such a request was so unusual. Thinking about the people she knew who were in the upper social classes, she could well imagine that it was unusual. But she didn’t care.
“Very well,” he said again, “Sarah. And I would add that such preferences should be regarded equally; therefore, I insist that you call me Darius. Truthfully, Mr. Noble makes me feel as if I should be a banker or a barrister or something, and as you can see, I am not.”
“Darius it is, then,” she said. Poppy had been close enough to hear their conversation, even though she hadn’t commented, and Sarah saw her toss a little smile in their direction, although Darius didn’t see it.
At that very moment, Evans approached to announce that they were ready to move on. Darius took Poppy’s hand to help her into the carriage, while at the same time Evans said quietly to Sarah, “Are you well, m’lady? Halford threatened me about making certain you were well cared for.” He said it with a little smile, and Sarah knew that Evans and Halford were trusted friends and had been for many years.
“I am quite well,” she declared, not willing to admit that she felt nervous and filled with uncertainty; given everything these men were doing for her—and Poppy too—she would not reduce herself to complaining.
“I’m glad to hear it,” Evans said and took her hand to help her step into the carriage, even though Darius had been hovering nearby to do that very thing.
Sarah’s foot was barely on the step when she heard a deafening sound crack the air and before even a second had passed, she found herself on the ground, feeling the weight of a man over her shoulder and arm. She realized that a gun had been fired nearby, and she wondered if it had been aimed at her. She didn’t know if it was Evans or Darius who had pushed her to the ground, going down with her to keep her safe. For a long moment she wondered if she’d been hit by a bullet but hadn’t yet been able to feel the pain. Then she found Darius kneeling beside her, demanding in a voice that was fiercely frantic, “Are you all right? Were you hit?”
“I . . . think I’m fine,” Sarah murmured and tried to get up, then a horrible realization settled in and she wanted to scream. Instead she began to breathe so sharply she feared she might lose consciousness, but she was even more afraid that screaming might put them in further danger.
While she was trying to find the ability to tell Darius that she now believed Evans had been hit and she’d gone to the ground beneath the weight of him falling, she realized that Darius had figured it out and rolled Evans onto his back, away from her.
“Is he . . .” she sputtered. “Is he . . . all right?”
“No, Sarah, he’s not all right. He’s dead.”
“No, no, no,” Sarah muttered, finding it even more difficult to believe. She was barely aware of Poppy stepping out of the carriage to investigate when Darius shoved her back in just before he physically picked Sarah up off the ground and shoved her into the carriage as well.
“Stay on the floor!” he ordered in a whispered panic. “And hold on tight.”
“But . . .” Sarah heaved. “Evans! He . . . he . . .”
Darius put his face close to hers and she realized that he too was finding it difficult to breathe. “He’s dead, Sarah. There’s nothing we can do for him. He’ll be found and taken home. But if we don’t get out of here now, you will be next.” Still hesitant to leave Evans’s body lying on the ground she attempted to speak again but Darius said more hotly, “You promised to do what I tell you! Now stay on the floor while I get us out of here.”
“But . . .” she whimpered, hearing Poppy just behind her, gasping for breath.
“Sarah!” he growled, taking hold of her shoulders and shaking her gently, “do you think they were aiming at him?”
Sarah sucked in her breath and couldn’t let it out. The shot had been aimed at her! Had Evans died in her stead? The very idea was inconceivably horrible!
Darius didn’t bother with any further conversation. He slammed the door closed and she felt the carriage rocking as he stepped up onto the box seat and then they were moving—very fast. The speed at which they were traveling made the ride far bumpier, which was also worsened by the fact that Sarah and Poppy were on the floor of the carriage, both of them barely able to breathe, clinging to each other as their breathlessness turned to sobbing.
Sarah’s mind exploded with thoughts she could barely keep track of as they darted around and bounced back and forth inside her head. Her father’s death had been devastating; the strange discovery of the key and the treasure it unlocked had been eerie and confusing; the discovery that her father had been murdered had been too horrible to comprehend; having to leave her home to remain safe had felt challenging but important enough to take seriously. But this? This? Evans dead? Shot while he’d been standing right next to her? Recalling how it had felt to fall to the ground—now realizing it had been due to the weight of Evans’s body pushing her down—she once again found it so difficult to breathe she feared she would lose consciousness.
“Breathe with me,” Poppy said firmly, taking hold of her shoulders. “Breathe! Breathe!”
“I . . . I . . .” Sarah tried to say. “He . . . He . . .”
“I know, dearie,” Poppy said with compassion and comfort, even though it was evident she too was very nearly as upset as Sarah. “I know,” she repeated and sobbed. “But . . . everything will be all right. It just has to be.”
Sarah gave up trying to speak. She wanted to believe what Poppy was saying, but doing so felt impossible in that moment. Evans was dead, his body left outside a pub on the edge of the road. She knew he had no family, but he had a great many friends at Castle Courtenay—and in the nearby village. Many people would be heartsick over his loss. And for what? Could his death have been any more meaningless? Who was she to have the value of her life put above that of a good man like Evans? He didn’t deserve this! And now what? Did Darius Noble actually have a plan to keep them safe, considering that their driver had been shot to death not many hours after leaving Castle Courtenay? She couldn’t believe it! She just couldn’t believe it!
Sarah lost track of how long she and Poppy lay on the floor of the moving carriage, clutching each other’s hands. Their mutual difficulty in breathing gradually settled to a point where Sarah almost felt as if she were barely breathing, barely alive, barely able to think or feel. Soon after Sarah was able to stop crying, Poppy too fell into a silence that felt as if it might shatter if either of them dared to speak of the horror that had occurred, and the tightening fear of what this now meant for both of them.
Sarah and Poppy let out a soft gasp at the same time when they felt the carriage coming to a halt. As Sarah tried to sit up, her body ached in protest, reminding her they’d been huddled on the hard carriage floor for hours. Only moments after the carriage halted, the door came open and Sarah heard Darius say, “We’re in a place a short distance from an inn I know well, away from the shine of any street lamps. I want you to come with me and crouch down as much as you can when you walk. I’m taking you to a safe place to wait while I talk to the innkeeper and arrange for a place where we can safely rest.”
Sarah said nothing. She felt as if her voice had left her since the realization that Evans had been shot and left dead on the side of the road had fully sunk in. She sat up and reached a hand toward Darius’s shadow in the darkness. He took it firmly and pulled her toward him, as if he instinctively knew she would have a difficult time moving—for both emotional and physical reasons. The strength of his grip—combined with his confidence in the plan he’d laid out—helped Sarah feel slightly better, at least in regard to knowing they had a plan. Even if the plan was only for the next several hours, it was better than nothing. And oh! How she longed for a safe place to rest!
Darius pulled her out of the carriage and held to her arm long enough to make certain she was steady on her feet before he helped Poppy out and did the same. They followed his instructions and crouched down as they walked, their bodies hugging the wall of one building and then another, before emerging into a narrow alley, which smelled rather foul. He helped them find what seemed to be one of the cleanest spots in the alley—at least according to the smell, for they could see very little—and Sarah and Poppy sat on the ground with their backs against the wall. Sarah felt like a defenseless little mouse hiding from the likelihood of a bunch of cats that might pounce at any moment.
“Wait here and be still,” Darius whispered, squatting down in front of them. “This inn is open to travelers any hour of the day or night. I will be back as soon as I speak with the innkeeper, and I’ll make certain your belongings are safe.”
Until that moment Sarah had forgotten about the treasure hidden in her trunk, but she was grateful she didn’t have to ask Darius to keep the trunk safe—certain it would have sounded ridiculous for her to be concerned about a few clothes and personal belongings at a time like this.
“Thank you,” she croaked, making it evident how long and hard she had been crying. At least she knew her voice could still function.
“I won’t be long,” he said and moved away in the opposite direction from which they’d come.
Sarah wanted to say something comforting to Poppy, but she couldn’t find the words. She wanted to talk to her dearest friend about what had happened and how upsetting it was for both of them. But she couldn’t think of what to say or how to say it, so she just took hold of Poppy’s hand and squeezed it, feeling her squeeze in return. Right now, it seemed that knowing they were there for each other was all that really mattered.
Sarah prepared herself to wait a long while for Darius to return, even though he’d said he wouldn’t be long. True to his word, he came back much sooner than she’d expected.
“Come along,” he said, holding out both his hands, offering one to each of the two women. Sarah and Poppy took his hands and he lifted them to their feet, his strength compensating for how aching and tired they were. She wondered how he could have so much strength and energy when he’d been driving the carriage for hours. Her gratitude for his resilience deepened when he put an arm around each of them to guide them out the back of the alley and along the edge of one building, then another, and another. Now that they were at the back of the buildings, he apparently wasn’t concerned about them standing up straight as they walked.
“We’re here,” he said, stopping beside a door that had no window in it. But Sarah noticed a window nearby where a dim light was shining. Darius opened the door and motioned the women inside. He closed the door behind him and locked it before he led them up a long hallway, motioning with his arm for them to follow, and putting a finger to his lips to remind them to be as quiet as possible. A lamp that was barely emitting enough light to allow them to see where they were going had been left on a table in the hall, and Darius picked it up as he passed it. He turned a corner and headed up a narrow flight of stairs. Sarah impulsively slipped off her shoes and Poppy followed her example; she felt certain their stockinged feet would be much quieter on the stairs and the wooden floors. At the top of the stairs they went right down a long hallway to a door that had the number four painted on it. He opened the unlocked door and guided Sarah and Poppy into the room, closing the door quietly behind him.
Whispering, Darius said, “There should be everything here you need to freshen up and get some rest.” He motioned toward a washstand and a curtained area in the corner of the room behind which she assumed was a chamber pot for which she was very grateful after such a long and harrowing ride. He also motioned to the large trunk belonging to her and Poppy, and she saw the other two trunks that had been on the carriage, which she assumed belonged to Darius and Evans. Evans. She couldn’t think about it. She was too exhausted to fall apart now. “The two of you can share the bed,” he said, motioning toward a large four-poster with curtains that could be closed around it. “And I will take the floor.” He motioned to a rug in front of the fireplace. “And just to be clear, I’m quite accustomed to sleeping wherever I can, and if you might be concerned about having a man sleeping in your room, let me remind you that it’s my job to keep you safe—in every respect. I’m here to protect you. That’s it.” He took hold of the doorknob and added, “I’m going to see to the horses and I’ll be back. I want you to lock the door when I leave and unlock it for me when I come back.” He demonstrated a unique knocking sequence quietly on the wall next to the door. “Once I’m back we’ll all get some sleep and when we’re more rested we’ll consider what to do next.” He turned to leave, then turned back. “I know you both must be terrified and upset—understandably so—but everything will be all right.”
Sarah felt a single tear slide down her cheek before she could even think about holding it back. She didn’t know if it was a spontaneous response to his description of exactly how Sarah was feeling, or the very fact that he was offering compassion as well as protection. Either way, Sarah quickly wiped away the tear and simply said, “Thank you . . . for everything.”
“Of course,” he said and hurried out of the room, quietly closing the door behind him, which Sarah hurried to lock.
For a long moment Sarah just stood there, frozen, not knowing how to actually function now that she was someplace safe. She heard a strange sound and turned to see that Poppy was crying but she’d pressed a hand over her mouth in an attempt to hold back the full torrent of her emotion. Sarah wrapped Poppy in a sisterly embrace and Poppy returned it with fervor. They held to each other and wept as the fear and horror they’d experienced in just the short time since leaving home washed over them like a cold, heavy downpour of rain. Within a few minutes they both were able to calm down, but still neither of them said a word.
Not certain how long Darius would be gone, Sarah took the lead and opened their trunk. By the dim light of a single lamp she found nightgowns, dressing gowns, and toothbrushes for herself and Poppy. She preferred digging through the trunk herself rather than risking having Poppy find what was hidden at the bottom—something she now realized was apparently worth killing for. Or was it? She had no idea whether or not the precious sword was the reason for all this. Trying not to think about it, she encouraged Poppy to get ready for bed while Sarah did the same. As soon as they were ready and dressed in prudishly modest nightgowns—for which Sarah was now grateful, given that she hadn’t anticipated sleeping in the same room with Darius Noble—they climbed into bed and Sarah attempted to relax, as she knew Poppy was doing. Sarah was wearing her dressing gown as well, knowing she needed to unlock the door for Darius when he returned. But she told Poppy there was no need for both of them to wait for him. Poppy insisted that she couldn’t possibly sleep, but her exhaustion was surely as deep as Sarah’s, and within minutes Sarah could hear Poppy’s breathing settle into an even rhythm that signaled she was sleeping.
With the lamp still emitting a subdued glow over the room, Sarah closed her eyes and held the bedcovers tightly in her fists, as if doing so might help keep her safe, or perhaps at least help her understand what it all meant. She felt responsible for Poppy, who would not have come on this absurd journey if not for her concern for Sarah’s safety. And now it seemed they were all at risk. She opened her eyes when keeping them closed brought to mind far too vivid a memory of Evans’s dead body pushing her to the ground, and how he’d fallen over her arm and shoulder and she hadn’t been able to move. She’d given it very little thought at the time, but after she’d realized he was dead, the very idea made her shudder, and she wondered if she would ever be free of the memory and how it had affected her.
Sarah’s mind became so caught up in what had happened and wondering what they might do now that she gasped when Darius knocked softly at the door, using the exact rhythm he’d told her he would use. She hurried to open the door for him and he slipped inside, whispering as he locked the door, “I parked the carriage some distance away and unharnessed the horses. I woke up the owner of a livery and paid him well to attend to the horses and also to lie should anyone ask if he’s seen a man matching my description. I truly believe we’re safe for now. There are too many inns and pubs in this town for anyone to search them all, and as I said, I know this innkeeper and I trust him.”
“You’ve come here before?” Sarah asked him. “When you’ve been protecting someone?”
“I have,” he said, “and I’ve not been found here yet. If I had, we would have gone elsewhere.” He sighed and added, “I know how difficult this must be for you. After we’ve gotten some rest and had a good meal, we’ll talk about what to do next.”
“You have a plan?” she asked, certain he couldn’t possibly solve this problem.
“I do,” he said with confidence. “But don’t worry about anything for now except getting some sleep. Without rest, your senses aren’t as sharp as they should be, and you’re more likely to get hurt. Since it’s my job to keep you safe, I am going to get some sleep.”
He’d removed his coat as he’d been talking and hung it over the back of a chair, but she was surprised to see him reach behind his back to pull a pistol out from beneath his waistcoat, which had obviously been tucked into the waistband of his breeches. Even though she’d said nothing, he responded to her silent surprise by saying, “Did you honestly think I wouldn’t be carrying a gun?”
“No, I suppose not,” she said as he set it down on the small bureau. “Actually, I’m glad to know you do.”
He nodded, and Sarah went back to bed, discreetly removing her dressing gown before slipping between the covers. Her head had barely connected with the pillow before exhaustion lured her into a deep slumber.