Sarah awoke to the sound of the door closing softly, followed by a combination of pleasant aromas. She squinted against bright sunlight, then had the horrible thought that perhaps someone other than Darius had come into the room. She sat bolt upright with a gasp, then took a deep breath when she saw Darius setting a large tray on the little table in the room, which had two chairs on either side of it.
“Did I scare you?” he asked, glancing in her direction with a little smile. “Sorry,” he added and seemed to mean it. “I woke up starving, so I knew the two of you must be feeling the same. I’d prefer that neither you nor Poppy leave the room until we’re actually ready to go—and that will be a while—so I got enough breakfast for all of us.”
“It smells delicious,” she said earnestly, suddenly so hungry she felt as if she couldn’t get to that table fast enough. And she was actually glad to hear him say he didn’t want her or Poppy to leave the room. She suspected that she’d quickly grow weary of being stuck within this small space, but for now it represented safety, and after what had happened last night, nothing felt more important than simply being safe.
“I’ll let you and Poppy sit at the table,” Darius said gallantly. “I can sit anywhere with a plate and be happy.”
“I think Poppy is still very much asleep and I don’t see any reason to wake her,” Sarah said softly, then wondered how to ask what she needed to ask. She decided to simply choose not to be embarrassed over practical matters and said, “Would you mind very much giving me just a few minutes of privacy?”
He looked confused and she nodded toward the curtained area in the corner of the room. Even though it would prevent him from seeing anything untoward, she preferred to take care of her private business completely privately.
“Oh, of course,” he said and headed toward the door. “I’ll be in the hall. Just . . . open the door when it’s safe for me to come back in.”
“Thank you,” she said and watched him leave the room, grateful he was so gracious—and perceptive.
Getting out of bed made Sarah realize the room was a bit chilly and she was glad for the fire burning in the grate, although she suspected it hadn’t been burning long; therefore, it hadn’t had a chance to really warm up the room. Once she had taken care of private matters, she found a pair of stockings in her trunk and put them on, then she put on her dressing gown, tied it around her waist, and opened the door into the hallway. She didn’t want to take the time to get dressed while their breakfast was getting cold, and she knew she was more than adequately modest. She’d been dressed exactly this way many times when both she and Halford had spent time in her father’s room during his illness.
“All set?” Darius asked, coming back into the room, where he closed the door and locked it.
“Yes, thank you,” she said and sat down, surprised when he helped her with her chair. “Thank you,” she said again, and he sat across from her. She quickly surmised that there was an enormous amount of food on the tray, but she felt so hungry she wasn’t about to try and be ladylike and hold back for the sake of not appearing too gluttonous. She enjoyed every bite of the scones with butter and jam, boiled eggs, and fried pork; and the tea was both calming and delicious. She didn’t even care that it wasn’t her favorite flavor.
They both ate in silence, as if Darius was as hungry as she and they were enjoying their meal too much to want the distraction of conversation. When Sarah finally felt full and content—as long as she didn’t allow herself to recall the horrible memories hovering close to the surface in her mind—she leaned both elbows on the table so she could cradle her third cup of warm tea in her hands and hold it close to her face, closing her eyes to inhale the comforting aroma and the caress of the steam on her skin. Even though her eyes were closed, she knew Darius was finished eating by the way he sighed contentedly and leaned back in his chair, scooting it a little farther from the table.
“Are you all right?” he asked, startling her slightly with the way his voice broke the silence.
Sarah didn’t want to think about all the reasons she was not all right. But his inquiry was kind; his tone expressed genuine concern. She knew he deserved an honest answer, but at the same time she didn’t want to talk about it. “I’m as all right as I can possibly be, I think,” she stated truthfully. “We’re safe for now . . . thanks to you. I don’t want to think about anything except . . . the present.”
“I understand,” he said kindly. “I really do. There’s no need to talk about it right now. I just want you to know that I do have a plan, and I have every reason to believe all will be well.” Sarah opened her eyes and looked at him expectantly, wanting to hear about this plan of his, resisting the urge to express her most prominent thought, which was her desire to tell him that if his plan required leaving this room she was entirely against it. She knew such an idea was ludicrous, but she couldn’t express the depth of her fear without thinking too hard about the reasons for it. And she just couldn’t do that now; she just couldn’t.
“We’ll talk about it when Poppy can join the conversation,” he said as if he’d read her mind. “That way I won’t have to repeat everything twice.”
Sarah only nodded, amazed that Poppy was still sleeping, and feeling envious. If Sarah were asleep, she wouldn’t have her mind wandering continually toward thoughts that were just too awful to contemplate. Returning her attention to her tea, she barely glanced toward Darius as he stood up, but she gave him her full attention when he said, “I’m going out; there are some things I need to purchase and—”
“Do you need money?” she asked, surprised by how startled he looked in response to the question.
“No, Sarah,” he said matter-of-factly, “Mr. Halford gave me more than enough to cover any expenses that might arise.”
Sarah nodded again while she wondered where Halford would come up with that kind of money, but the answer was obvious. He had worked as an assistant to her father for many years—in matters both personal and professional. Of course he would have access to her father’s money. Her money, she reminded herself; her father was dead. Murdered. Everything had fallen to her now, even the threat of death. It all seemed like a very bad dream.
“Lock the door after I leave,” he said, putting the pistol back in its hiding place and tugging his waistcoat down over it, “and don’t open it for anyone but me. While I was downstairs getting breakfast, I could see if anyone suspicious looking came up the stairs, but now I’ll be leaving the inn. I’ll be back before the two of you get hungry again. There’s no reason to open the door unless it’s me. Do you understand?”
He said it with such severity that Sarah realized she had sucked in her breath and was finding it difficult to let it out. She finally nodded in silence yet again and managed to start breathing again.
Darius nodded in return and left the room. Sarah rose to lock the door, since he’d told her he wasn’t leaving until he heard evidence that she’d done so.
Sarah stared at the closed door and listened to the sound of Darius’s footsteps as he left. She didn’t want to admit she felt afraid in his absence. Not wanting to feel fear any more than she wanted to feel dependent upon this man she barely knew, Sarah forced her feelings inward and was glad to hear evidence that Poppy was coming awake. They said very little to each other while Poppy ate her breakfast and they both got dressed and helped attend to each other’s hair so that they looked reasonably presentable. It seemed that neither of them actually wanted to speak aloud of Evans’s death—and the horrible way it had occurred—and their exhausting and frightening journey to arrive where they were now, especially when neither of them actually knew where they were or what would happen next.
Darius returned not a moment too soon when Sarah felt as if the unusual silence between her and Poppy would drive them both mad. She unlocked the door following his distinctive knock, surprised to see him loaded down like a packhorse. He had two sets of large saddlebags slung over each shoulder, and his arms were full of a number of packages, which he seemed to barely be managing to hold onto. Sarah and Poppy each hurried to take a couple of packages before he heaved everything else onto the bed. Sarah closed the door and locked it before asking him in a quiet voice that didn’t disguise her concern, “What on earth is all—”
“We can’t travel by carriage any farther,” Darius stated without apology, “therefore we will be riding the horses that were pulling the carriage, and we will be traveling through the woods, staying completely away from any roads. Hence,” he motioned elaborately toward the items covering the top of the bed, “saddlebags and supplies.” Before Sarah could form words to express any one of her many questions, he added, “I assume you ladies can ride.”
“Sarah can, of course,” Poppy said. “She is a proper lady in every respect and was therefore taught to ride in her youth. I, on the other hand, am a maid, and I have never ridden a horse.”
“There’s no need to worry,” Darius said. “These animals are gentle and well-trained. You can follow me, and Sarah will follow you. The horse will follow my lead with very little need of any help from you. I’ll show you what to do. It’s easy; I promise.”
Poppy sighed and Sarah recognized what she’d quickly come to learn about Darius Noble: he had a natural way of calming fears and concerns by saying exactly what needed to be said. A part of her almost didn’t want to trust him, but she couldn’t think of a single reason not to. And what choice did they have? There was evidence enough that Darius was determined to keep her and Poppy safe, and nothing else mattered right now.
Poppy appeared alarmed in spite of Darius’s reassurance, but she nodded in agreement, as if she trusted him to know what was best, and that he would keep his promise to help her. Darius began opening the packages on the bed to reveal that they contained a generous supply of jerked meat and several fresh apples, which Sarah suspected would be crisp and delicious since this was the time of year when apples always tasted best. There were also some rounds of cheese and some bread. There were flasks, which Darius explained would be filled with water for each of them. Sarah silently appraised these things and wondered how long they would be traveling on horseback, and what exactly this portion of the journey would entail. But she refused to complain or even question Darius or his methods. She felt nothing but grateful to be in his care, and she knew without a word spoken between them that Poppy felt the same.
“Where exactly are we going?” Sarah asked him.
“To the home of some dear friends of mine,” he reported with confidence. “That’s all you need to know for now. We will be safe there for as long as we need to be.”
Darius then pointed out the saddlebags—which were the largest Sarah had ever seen—and explained that they would need to pack all their belongings—along with the food and water—into the bags. They would be leaving the trunks behind. Since they had four horses, which had been pulling the carriage, one would carry their possessions and supplies. He also mentioned very casually that he had already sold the carriage for a fair price and it had been taken to the home of its new owner, some distance from the village where they now were. It was evident Darius had planned everything very carefully, which helped Sarah feel a little better, until a thought occurred to her and she gasped before she could think to hold it back.
“What?” Darius asked with a demanding voice that was not unkind. Both he and Poppy stared at her with a look that made it evident she could not avoid telling them the reason for her concern. She couldn’t possibly go any farther on this journey without sharing the truth about what was in the bottom of the trunk. There could be no box containing and concealing the sword, given their change of plans. She knew she could trust Poppy, and she likely would have told her about the sword before now except that so much had been happening. She wondered for a long moment if she could trust Darius with something so valuable. In her mind she saw him running away with the priceless heirloom and abandoning her and Poppy. But she quickly realized she had no choice but to trust him; they were entirely dependent upon his care and protection. And instinctively she believed him to be a man of integrity.
Sarah sighed and forced the words out of her mouth. “There is something in the bottom of the trunk that can’t possibly be put into a saddlebag, but it’s highly valuable and we must take it with us.”
“I see,” Darius said, drawing out the words and turning his head slightly to look at her sideways, as if he were trying to discern whether he could trust her. When he said nothing more, and Poppy remained silently expectant, Sarah just opened the lid of the trunk, pushed aside the clothing covering the box and lifted it out, hearing Poppy let out a noise of surprise.
“Is that why you wanted to use the large trunk and have us share it?” she asked.
“Yes,” Sarah said.
Darius’s tone reeked of suspicion as he asked, “Does this have something to do with the danger you’re in?”
“I have no idea,” Sarah said, putting the box on the bed. “I didn’t know it existed until after my father’s death, and as far as I know, no one else is even aware of its existence. But I sincerely do not know for certain.” She hurried to tell them about her final conversation with her father, and how in spite of most of it sounding like nonsense, she’d found the key, and then the hidden panel in the secret pantry where the box was hidden. She concluded by declaring that she knew her father had wanted this to be in her possession, and that she needed to protect it. When she had nothing more to say, Sarah reached inside her bodice where she’d carefully kept the paper on which she’d copied down the words she’d found regarding the sword. “I copied this out of a book of my family’s history that I found in the library.” She very briefly explained the story of William Charles Courtenay before she handed the paper to Darius who looked both alarmed and curious. As he unfolded the paper Sarah said, “Perhaps you should read it aloud for Poppy’s benefit.”
Darius cleared his throat quietly and began to read: “‘This mighty sword has been blessed to hold great power to whomever shall possess it. To possess it is to possess great blessings upon the head of the possessor and all of the House of Courtenay, therefore if the rightful possessor of this great sword allows it to fall into the hands of evil, a great curse shall come down upon the House of Courtenay. So it has been blessed, recorded, and declared forevermore.’”
“A sword?” Poppy said, incredulous. “You’ve been hiding and carrying around a sword?”
“May I see it?” Darius asked, still sounding suspicious. “I’m assuming it’s very valuable—even for someone who doesn’t believe in blessings and curses being attached to it.”
Sarah swallowed hard but couldn’t find any words. She reached beneath the neckline of her dress and drew out the long chain she always wore now. As she lifted out the key at the end of the chain, Darius asked in a slightly snide tone, “Is there anything else you’re hiding in there I should know about?”
She absolutely knew he was not at all meaning the question to be improper or suggestive; he was completely focused on the paper in his hands and the key she had just revealed. Sarah didn’t answer; she just lifted the narrow chain from around her neck and put the key into the lock on the box. As she opened it, Darius and Poppy moved closer, standing on either side of her. She lifted the lid, took a deep breath, and folded back the velvet fabric to reveal the sword, which actually sparkled as the angle of the sunlight through the windows reflected off of it. Poppy gasped yet again and took hold of Sarah’s arm as if she feared toppling over. Darius muttered breathlessly, “Unbelievable!”
The three of them stood frozen, just staring at the exquisite piece, as if admiring the beauty of its craftsmanship made it difficult to speak. Poppy whispered, as if she feared the sword might overhear her, “Is that . . . an emerald? A real emerald?”
“According to what I read about the history of the sword,” Sarah said, not whispering, “yes, it is.”
“Remarkable!” Darius said in a tone combining awe and reverence. Without moving his gaze, he asked Sarah, “May I?”
“Of course,” she said, knowing what he meant.
Darius reached his right hand toward the hilt, slowly and tentatively, almost as if he feared it might burn him if he touched it. She knew how he felt. He took hold of it firmly and lifted it up into plain view where all of them could see the fine details. “It can’t possibly have been crafted as a weapon,” Darius said, brandishing it carefully in a way that made it evident he knew exactly how to use a sword as a weapon.
“I’m not so sure,” Sarah said. “I think the edges of the blade could slice a piece of paper.”
Darius held it still and looked more closely at the blade. “I do believe you’re right,” he said and repeated, “Remarkable.”
“Remarkable enough to kill for?” Poppy asked, her tone acrid.
“Someone else must know about this!” Darius said, looking at Sarah directly, as if to answer Poppy’s question, that the sword was valuable enough to kill for—even without the belief of any attached curses or blessings.
“I have no idea,” Sarah said, unable to keep from sounding astounded at the possibility of two men already having died for something that she would have gladly given away to have her father back. Darius carefully returned the sword to its resting place and turned more directly toward Sarah, silently asking for more information and focusing his full attention toward whatever she might tell him. “The history of the sword—including an accurate illustration of it—is in a book in the library. Any servant in the household could get into the library and read it there, or even remove a book without being noticed. Even though most of what my father said to me before he died didn’t make sense, it was enough to guide me to the key and also the sword. But I don’t know if that information is recorded somewhere that I don’t know about.”
“Perhaps not,” Darius said. “If someone had known where to find it, then it wouldn’t have been there for you to find.”
“Fair point,” Sarah said. “But I’m not convinced my father’s death—or the danger I’m in—has anything to do with this.”
“Your father’s urgency in telling you about it makes me think there is a connection,” Darius said with confidence. “Perhaps for some reason that day he figured out he was being poisoned and he wanted you to know about this before he died. Perhaps it was only meant to be passed on to an heir. Did he say anything to that effect?”
Sarah looked away, then closed her eyes, trying to remember. She’d tried and tried to recall exactly what her father had said and how he’d said it, but now remembering felt more important than ever. A memory of something he’d said came to her clearly, and she attributed Darius’s specific question to helping spark the clarity. “He said . . . he couldn’t go to the grave without me knowing about this, but his illness had never been severe enough to make anyone think he was anywhere near death. Therefore, I didn’t take such a comment seriously. He was . . . agitated, and . . . said he was worried about me, and . . .” she gasped as it came back to her more clearly, “he said I needed to be careful, that he was concerned for my safety.” She sat unsteadily on the edge of the bed, next to the box containing the sword. Looking up at Darius she asked, “Do you really think it’s possible? That he figured it out? That he knew he was dying?”
“It’s possible,” was all he said, but his expression seemed to be saying that he absolutely believed it. Darius sighed and added, “Well, we can’t possibly figure out the answers to these questions stuck here in this room, and given the situation it might be a good, long time before this mystery gets solved. The only thing that really matters is keeping you ladies safe, which is why we’re leaving here tonight—past midnight when we won’t be seen, especially with the direction we’re going. The only problem is exactly how to take this,” he motioned toward the sword, “traveling on horseback without making it too conspicuous on the chance that we encounter anyone.”
“I should have told you about it sooner,” Sarah said to him, her tone apologetic as she realized his burden of handling every detail of dealing with this precarious and complicated situation.
“It’s not as if we had much opportunity to discuss such things,” he said before he became quietly thoughtful. “But I have an idea. I need to go purchase a few more things, and then I think I can solve this problem.”
“How?” Poppy asked.
“Let me see if it works before I make a fool of myself trying to explain,” Darius said. “But before I leave, I think we all need some lunch.” He headed toward the door, saying, “I’ll get some food from the kitchen and be back soon.”
Sarah nodded and locked the door after he left. Sarah and Poppy had very little to say to each other while they sorted through their things and began refolding clothing in a way that would make it fit into the saddlebags. Sarah closed the box with the sword in it but left it on the bed, which made it impossible to ignore its existence and all the possible implications.
Darius returned with a lunch tray and set it on the table. He insisted that the ladies sit on the two chairs next to the table. He took his own plate to sit in an overstuffed chair where he held the plate with one of his large hands and used a fork with the other. The meal began in silence, but Sarah felt the urge to talk more about her swirling thoughts regarding the sword and all that it might mean. Now that her old friend and her new one knew about the sword, she felt relief at not having to hold all her thoughts inside and took advantage of the silence to say, “Forgive me, but . . . I can’t stop thinking about the sword, and—”
“I can’t stop thinking about it either,” Poppy said.
“Nor can I,” Darius admitted, and Sarah was glad to realize how comfortable they were all beginning to feel with each other—which was good considering how much time they were inevitably going to spend together; in fact, she had no idea how long they would be in Darius’s care. She didn’t want to think about that. One day at a time was all she could handle.
“So . . .” Sarah continued, “what if someone else does know about the sword? What if someone really is trying to obtain this treasure, and for some reason they believe I have it?”
“Or what if someone believes they have the right to it as long as you’re no longer alive?” Poppy interjected.
“If anyone believes in curses,” Darius said, as casually as if he were telling them lunch was delicious, “they wouldn’t want possession of the thing. But if they don’t believe in curses, you can’t deny that—as you said, Sarah—a description of this great treasure is recorded in the family’s history, and anyone—even any servant in the household—could have come across that information the same way you did. And perhaps oral traditions have been handed down about this great mysterious treasure that fueled an interest. It’s possible.”
“And maybe,” Poppy said to Sarah in a voice that was both fearful and excited, “that same person knew about the conversation your father had with you the day he died; perhaps he was given a larger dose of poison after he’d said what he did in order to finish him off before he could say more.”
“Poppy!” Sarah said in a tone that was more scolding than she’d intended. She softened her voice and added, “I just don’t like to think of my father being . . . finished off.”
“Sorry,” Poppy said and clearly meant it. “But I also wonder if there was some reason he said what he said to you, when he said it. Had he been threatened? Or had he figured out in some way that he was being poisoned?”
“I also believe,” Darius muttered, “that it could likely be more than one person.” He pointed a finger at Sarah and smirked. “You could have a whole gang of servants in the household working together to try and find the treasure.”
The thought made Sarah shudder. “But what point would there be to actually killing my father? Or me? Could they not just steal it and run off to a foreign land and change their names?”
“That would imply a family member,” Darius said more seriously than he’d been thus far in the conversation. “Are you certain you don’t have some distant cousin we’re not aware of? Someone who could know the rumors of the treasure? Someone who wants all things Courtenay to himself?”
“It’s not very likely, is it!” Sarah snapped at him, feeling too impatient to indulge in such far-fetched theories.
“Just a thought,” he retorted, smirking again as if he enjoyed seeing her get so riled.
They finished their meal without any further speculations, and Darius took the tray with the dirty dishes down to the kitchen with him when he left to do his errands. As soon as he was gone, Sarah and Poppy resumed their organizing and folding in preparation for their journey. Silence settled over them again until it became so uncomfortable that Sarah said, “We usually can’t stop chattering. This silence is . . . difficult.”
“I feel the same,” Poppy said with a sigh, “but I don’t know what to say. It’s all just so overwhelming.”
Sarah drew in a deep breath of courage and said something that had been weighing heavily on her. “I feel bad, Poppy, that you’ve become caught up in all of this because of me. Whatever is going on has nothing to do with you, and I wonder if it would have been better if you’d not come or—”
“What?” Poppy retorted, sounding insulted. “My place is with you. This has nothing to do with my being employed as your companion. You are my best and truest friend. Do you think I would want you going through something like this without me?”
Sarah felt the sting of tears in her eyes and fought them back; she’d not cried since Evans had been killed, and she couldn’t start now. The enormity of her fear and sorrow would surely require more than the release of a few little tears, and there wasn’t time for any such grieving right now. She had to keep a level head and stay strong. Still, she was so deeply touched by Poppy’s words that she couldn’t keep the quiver out of her voice when she said, “I’m so glad because . . . I don’t know how I would do this without you.”
They embraced tightly, and Sarah sensed that Poppy was also trying very hard not to cry. Sarah was surprised when Poppy laughed instead as she eased back and took Sarah by the shoulders, saying in a voice that sounded more like herself, “Besides, do you think I would allow you to be traveling unchaperoned with that . . . scoundrel.” She laughed softly, which let Sarah know that Poppy didn’t at all think Darius was a scoundrel, but she was certainly right about the need for a third person to be present in this situation, especially if they were to be sharing a room at an inn and traveling into the forest together.
“We couldn’t have that,” Sarah said, laughing herself, glad for the way doing so offered a tiny bit of relief to the torrent of emotion smoldering within her.
A moment later they heard footfalls in the hall and then Darius’s distinctive knock at the door. Sarah opened it and he entered, this time carrying a stack of folded wool blankets with one wrapped package balanced on top of them.
“What are those for?” Sarah asked, feeling some alarm.
“Given the fact that we will be traveling through the woods to get to our destination, there will be no accommodations. We will be sleeping on the ground, I’m afraid.”
Sarah and Poppy exchanged a somewhat fearful glance behind Darius’s back while he set his load into a large chair. He turned to face both of them and added, “I know it’s far from ideal. Thankfully it’s autumn and not winter. Hopefully this sunny weather will hold for a few days and it won’t be too cold.”
“So, this is only for a few days?” Sarah asked, wishing she hadn’t sounded so concerned.
“Yes, Sarah,” he chuckled. “Only a few days.” More soberly he added, “I assure you this is the best way for us to travel and remain safe. Unfortunately, that means sleeping on the ground, but we’ll actually be traveling by night to reduce the possibility of being seen, and we will sleep during the day, which means it will be warmer.”
“What a relief,” Poppy said with such extreme sarcasm that Sarah couldn’t hold back a giggle. She’d been feeling so thoroughly somber that the sound surprised even herself—but both Poppy and Darius stared at her with equal surprise.
“I believe the two of you are a wee bit silly,” Darius said lightly.
“You can’t even imagine how much,” Poppy said with a lighter sarcasm.
“You’re from Scotland,” Darius said to her.
“You’re just figuring that out now?” Poppy countered, pretending to sound offended.
“No,” he drawled with a little laugh, “I’m just commenting on it now. I quite like the way you talk.”
“As do I,” Sarah said, giving her friend a warm smile. “I like everything about her.”
“The feeling is mutual, dearie,” Poppy said. “Now can we get on to what’s important here?”
Sarah felt the urge to maintain the light mood, liking the way it soothed the strangeness and horror of all that had happened. Impulsively she said, “While you were gone, Poppy called you a scoundrel.”
“Did she now?” Darius asked and let out a one-syllable laugh. “Well, maybe I am,” he added and laughed more fully.
“Which is why,” Sarah declared lightly, “you might be here to protect us, but Poppy and I will be on guard to protect each other from you.” Sarah could hardly believe what she’d said until it was out of her mouth, which made her laugh even more.
“An excellent plan,” Darius said, and they were all laughing, which Sarah felt certain was their way of letting go of all the stress they were feeling—and she far preferred laughter over tears.
Darius sobered his mood and looked directly at Sarah as he said, “I have an idea how to disguise the box containing the sword so that we can carry it with us and not have it look suspicious. May I have your permission to make some modifications to the box?”
Sarah actually had to think about it a long moment. She wondered how old the finely crafted box might be, and she briefly wondered if it would be some kind of affront to her ancestors to modify the box, but that thought was immediately replaced by the knowledge that keeping the sword safe was what was most important—next to keeping the three of them alive and safe.
“Of course,” Sarah said. “Do whatever you need to do.”
Darius nodded and set to work on the floor. The women watched in fascination as he carefully wrapped the sword in some thick, soft wool he’d purchased to keep it protected, then he used a hammer and nails to put some small pieces of wood in place over the top of it to create a false bottom, overlapping some of them in order to make them fit. Sarah wondered for a moment if the sound of his hammering would disturb other tenants at the inn; however, given that it was the middle of the afternoon, she doubted anyone would notice. Darius then took from the package he’d brought with him a variety of woodworking tools, which he placed carefully into the box, tacking nails only partially into the wood so they would help keep the tools in place. When he was finished, the interior of the box clearly looked as if it had been built to contain this set of tools, given how well he had fit them around each other. He then locked the box and handed Sarah the key before he took a length of heavy leather, about two inches wide, and nailed it to both ends of the box. Sarah wondered about the purpose of this, but she preferred to just wait and see instead of asking him questions when he was concentrating so hard on his project. Both Sarah and Poppy let out a little laugh when he lifted the strap over his head so that it rested diagonally across his chest, and the box of tools hung diagonally over his back.
“That’s brilliant!” Poppy declared.
“Isn’t it heavy?” Sarah asked, sincerely concerned about him carrying the box like that for however long they would be riding. The sword wasn’t necessarily heavy, but the tools he’d put into the box surely were.
“A little,” he said, “but I can manage, I assure you.” He said it in a way that made Sarah wonder if he believed she’d been questioning his obvious masculine strength. She opted to not attempt any clarification and just echoed Poppy’s declaration that it was indeed brilliant.
A short while later when all their things were mostly packed, and Darius had explained a few more details about their plans, he suggested they all try to get some rest, since they would be leaving after midnight and riding through the night. They all lay down where they had slept the previous night, but Sarah found it difficult to relax due to the storm of memories and fears she couldn’t force away. She was surprised to come awake and realize that she had slept, and she could hear Poppy and Darius whispering while they were obviously eating supper and trying not to disturb her.
Sarah sat up in bed, and Darius said with a smile that caught her attention, “There she is!”
“You’re eating without me?” Sarah asked in a tone that implied she was upset, but her light sarcasm belied that.
“I daresay you need every minute of sleep you can get,” Darius said.
Sarah couldn’t argue with that; she was dreading this exodus into the woods more than she dared admit. She ate until she was too full to eat anything else. She’d seen the food that Darius had packed into the saddlebags; and while none of it was at all detestable, she could foresee how quickly they would grow tired of eating the same thing for days. She wondered how long it would be until they had a real meal again.
The three of them finished packing, again weighed down by silence, as if they were all dreading this excursion. But Sarah completely trusted Darius’s belief that this was the best way to remain safe. Given the fact that she couldn’t go ten minutes without remembering every detail of the moment Evans had been shot, and her falling down beneath the weight of his dead body, she was willing to do practically anything to remain safe. So she kept her thoughts to herself, which meant she had nothing to say—and she suspected the others felt the same, or at least Poppy did; it was impossible to tell exactly what Darius Noble might be thinking. He was kind and compassionate and he seemed personally invested in the precariousness of the situation. But that didn’t mean he was any more invested than he might be, regardless of whomever he might have been hired to protect. Sarah found the thought a little disappointing and she wondered why. She’d quickly grown dependent on Darius, heeding his every instruction, and trusting completely in his plan to keep her and Poppy safe. Was it her dependence on him that fueled her intrigue with him in a way she didn’t understand? She often found herself watching him closely and darting her eyes quickly away if he looked at her, not wanting to be caught at it. But she was embarrassed to realize that Poppy had caught her. When Darius’s back was turned, Poppy nudged her with an elbow and nodded toward Darius with an amused smirk.
“What?” Sarah mouthed silently.
“You like him!” Poppy mouthed silently in response.
Sarah shot her friend a glare of disgust and turned away, hoping to hide the possibility that her expression might betray how Poppy’s comment had provoked a tingling in her limbs, a quickened heartbeat, and a fluttering in her stomach. Don’t be such a fool, Sarah reprimanded herself silently. Darius Noble had been hired to protect her, and when this problem was solved, he would be on his way to save a different damsel in distress. She needed to focus on doing whatever it took to remain safe and indulging in a girlish attraction to a handsome and capable man was not conducive to that goal.
Forcing thoughts of Darius out of her mind—along with memories of Evans dying—Sarah made certain her things were all packed securely into saddlebags, then she sat and waited for the time when they would leave. When the others just sat too—locked in ridiculous silence—she was inexplicably relieved when Darius produced a deck of playing cards and set about teaching them an easy game that kept them distracted and offered an opportunity to laugh and tease just enough to keep Sarah’s mind off of anything except this moment.
When it was finally time to go, Darius put the box of tools over his back and flung a set of saddlebags over each shoulder. The ladies each carried one set of saddle bags, and their trunks were left empty on the floor of the room. As Darius opened the door, Sarah noticed Evans’s trunk containing the belongings he’d brought with him. She said to Darius, “What about—”
“It’s taken care of,” he interrupted, noticing where her attention was focused. “I’ve arranged for it to be sent back to Courtenay. I don’t know whether there’s anything meaningful in there, but his friends there will know what to do with his things.”
Sarah just nodded, imagining Evans’s body being returned to Courtenay as well, and the way everyone there would be horrified over his death. She forced the thought away, nodded at Darius and said, “You think of everything. Thank you.”
Darius nodded in return and they left the room, walking very quietly to the stairs and down them. It felt strange to Sarah to be leaving this room where she had felt safe and secure. Just stepping out of it heightened the fear she’d been suppressing. At the bottom of the stairs they turned to go down a long hall toward the back of the inn, guided by a sconce on the wall, which emitted very little light. The inn was completely silent with the absence of any customers up and about at this time of night. But of course, Darius would have planned it this way.
Sarah and Poppy followed Darius out the back door of the inn where four horses were waiting—the same ones that had been pulling the carriage when they’d left Castle Courtenay. Sarah quickly noticed that three of them had saddles, and Darius would have had to acquire those as well. He really did think of everything. Standing next to where the horses were tethered was a man holding a lantern. Darius introduced him as the innkeeper and a trusted friend, but he didn’t say the man’s name.
“This is my sister,” Darius said, motioning toward Sarah, and she tried to keep her surprise from showing.
“I can see that,” the man said. “The same hair exactly.”
“Yeah,” Darius said casually while he put the saddlebags over the back of the fourth horse, which didn’t have a saddle. “That’s what our mother always said.” He then motioned to Poppy. “And this is our cousin.”
The man nodded toward Sarah and Poppy, and they simply nodded in return before Darius said, “I think we’re ready to go.” He held out a hand to help Poppy mount one of the horses while he kindly told her what to do and reminded her that the horse was well-trained and gentle. He put the reins into her hands and gave her some simple instructions but assured her the horse would just follow the horses in front of him and she would have to do very little. Poppy seemed to relax in the saddle, then Darius turned to help Sarah mount one of the other horses. As she put her gloved hand into his she could have sworn she felt literal heat emanating from his touch. Their eyes met for less than a second, but Sarah was once again overcome with all that tingling and fluttering.
Sarah settled herself quickly into the saddle and muttered a quiet “Thank you” to Darius as he put the reins into her hands. The innkeeper wished them a safe journey, and a minute later Sarah was following Poppy who was following the packhorse and Darius into the woods behind the inn. She was glad Darius knew where he was going, and all she and Poppy had to do was follow him, but she wished this part of their unsavory adventure was over. She was dreading this forthcoming journey with all her soul.