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CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

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Isla raised her chin and inhaled the sea air once more. Brighton was in the distance.

Adam was assisting the Duke of Belmonte. Apparently, he had learned some things about sailing from Captain Fergus.

Isla watched them move methodically. The wind was stronger, the air colder than when they’d left, but her heart felt full.

She noticed Callum and strode toward him.

“Thank you for helping us,” Isla said. “I know you had to postpone your travel to Guernsey, and I’m ever so grateful.”

“You needn’t worry,” Callum said. He leaned closer to her. “You’ve got yourself a good one there.”

“I know.” Isla smiled.

“I’m not sure if I ever truly apologized to you,” Callum said. “I shouldn’t have so publicly ended our engagement.”

“I know why you did it.”

“It was still uncalled for.”

“Thank you,” Isla said.

She wasn’t going to be hurt or angry. She had Adam. And she was going to be very, very happy.

For the rest of our lives.

The sailors anchored the ship.

“Have a wonderful time on Guernsey,” she said.

The men glanced at each other. Finally, Wolfe cleared his throat. “We decided to wait a week.”

“Oh? But you were in such a hurry—”

“There’s something of greater importance,” Hamish said. “You.”

Isla blinked. “You’ve already been incredibly helpful. I wouldn’t expect you to do anything more.”

“We’re not going to let you venture somewhere a dangerous murderer might be trying to harm you. You are too important,” Callum said.

Isla widened her eyes. “But your wife—”

“I can wait,” the Duchess of Belmonte said. “I have my sister for company. But now, let’s go to Wiltshire.”

Oh.

“That is so kind.”

Wolfe sighed. “I left you alone too much in the last decade.”

“You were battling Bonaparte.” She glanced at Callum and Hamish. “You all were.”

“And you were alone,” Wolfe said. “That must not have been easy.”

“You’ve always been so confident,” Callum said. “It was easy to overlook that you had your own trials that you shouldn’t have been expected to take on.”

The others murmured agreement.

They ate a hasty dinner while the servants prepared the carriage. Finally they left Brighton, and Isla allowed herself to sleep, cuddled against Adam’s arm.

The next day, the rain seemed to be in even fuller force, as if warning them about their destination. Isla’s confidence wavered. She’d focused so much on finding Adam, on convincing him to return, that perhaps she’d ignored there were reasons why he’d left. She’d met Ware. He’d lacked any claim to goodness.

They journeyed back to Wiltshire. The road was uncomfortable and horrid. It must have rained recently, for the carriage slid over the roads and the driver often paused, as if to calculate how best to avoid puddles.

Finally, in the evening they passed through Salisbury and approached the manor house.

Isla’s spine prickled. Perhaps Ware was observing them now, eager to obtain more money from them. Perhaps the same thing that had compelled him to kill Adam’s employer in Cape Colony who had truly inherited the title would compel him to kill Adam.

This was a lovely home, but the last time she’d been there, Ware had been pressing against her and threatening to do vile things.

“You can stay here when we search for Ware,” Adam said.

She squeezed his hand. “I’m going to help.”

“And how will we do that?”

Isla smiled. “We know what he looks like. We’re going to ask the tenants. Someone will have seen him.”

“They’ll think it suspicious I’m inquiring about him.”

“Nonsense. We’re going to thank them for attending the ball.”

“Oh.”

“And we’re going to bring them some baskets. It will be more polite.”

“You don’t think we should hurry more?”

“Perhaps we won’t find him,” Isla said. “But that might mean that he’s returned to Cape Colony. After all, he does have money.”

Adam nodded. She was correct.

She made baskets of fruit for the villagers, and then he accompanied her from house to house.

The visits were short, and in each one she inquired as to the health of the tenants and then asked if they’d seen a man matching the magistrate’s description.

Though Isla was comfortable in elegant dresses embellished with jewels and embroidered with silver thread, she seemed equally at home with the villagers.

Finally, one woman nodded. “I’ve seen him around.”

“Oh.” Isla glanced at Adam, and they both leaned forward. “Where? It’s just that the viscount is ever so anxious to greet him. Apparently, the man was inquiring after him at the ball, but they did not see each other.”

Isla wasn’t certain how much the footman may have spoken with the other villagers. Hopefully, he’d been discreet, but on the off-chance that he hadn’t been, Isla knew it was important for their stories to match.

“Oh, that’s so nice of the viscount,” the woman said. “But he’s been staying at the public house.”

“Indeed?”

The woman nodded. “I do the cleaning for them.”

“So you’re certain it’s him?”

“Well, not certain. But he did have a funny accent.”

“Thank you so much.” Isla rose. “We are most appreciative.”

“You’re very welcome,” the woman said. “The previous viscount never visited. Nor his wife.” The woman gave an odd look at Isla, and Isla remembered that she should have brought Miss Grant with her.

Never mind.

“My brother is here,” Isla said.

“And we are betrothed,” Adam said.

“Oh, how lovely!” the woman said. “How very lovely.”

“Thank you,” Isla said.

They hurried from the cottage and found the others.

“He’s at the tavern,” Isla said. “He has a room there.”

The others nodded.

“The carriage is ready,” Hamish growled.

“Splendid,” Isla said. “I’ll come with you.”