The Guardian Duke: A Forgotten Castles Novel (17 page)

"Do you happen to know where, exactly, in Ireland? It is a rather large place."

They both shook their heads. Of course not. She wouldn't make it that easy.

"Meade, find this coach she hired and the identity of the driver. He should be of some help."

"That would be Mr. Howard from Beal. He's the only one with a coach in these parts," Henry said.

"Very well, find Mr. Howard if he has returned." Gabriel rose, impatience humming through his veins. "Thank you for confiding in me, Ann." He nodded to the old woman. "Henry." Another nod in his direction. "Meade will send you a letter when I find her. In the meantime, I give you this." He took out a pouch and dropped it onto the chair with a heavy
clink
. "Lady Alexandria did not overly exaggerate your need to have this place repaired. I'll send more when I'm able but at least stock the larder and get the leaky roof patched. You might have someone work on the sheep shed; it's bound to cave in soon."

Ann stood and stretched out her neck toward him, her old eyes intent. "You said you aim to protect her and I want you to keep your promise, Duke. You take care of that girl." To Gabriel's astonishment, her lips began to quiver. "She ain't had much in this life what with her parents gallivanting all over the world and hardly noticing her and what with all the responsibility she's had . . . but she's a rare soul, she is, and I'll not have the likes of a fancy duke swooping in and changing her. You promise me you'll protect her precious spirit, not just her life. Don't take her off into your world and let them change her and make her believe she's less than she is." Her voice fairly shook as her meaning, her real concern, hit him in the stomach like a punch. "Protect the real her, you promise me."

And suddenly he knew exactly what she meant. It was why Alexandria's letters had come to mean so much. It was how he knew for certain that she was different from anyone he'd ever met. That quality she had, that generous spirit that was so full of joy and laughter, a beautiful soul. "I promise."

Ann must have seen his seriousness because her lips curved up into a thin smile. "I've been praying for you to come." She said it quietly, but Gabriel read her lips. With a pounding heart he bowed toward her, grasped the side of Henry's frail arm, and then turned to go.

It was shocking how life could change so suddenly.

T
he road from Belfast to Killyleagh was in good condition, making for a comfortable carriage ride. Well, for Montague and her, Alex revised, looking over at Baylor hunched in the middle of the seat across from them. He had to slouch down to keep his head from touching the roof and upon occasion he would grow tired of the cramped space and demand to walk alongside the carriage in the open air for a while. Poor giant. But he took it as a natural occurrence so he must be used to it.

Montague, as usual, hadn't said much, just pulled his hat low over his eyes and promptly fell asleep, softly snoring beside her. How she had ended up with two such champions she still couldn't quite figure out, but she was excited to be following their first real clue. Someone at the castle must have spoken with her parents.

A little while later, they rolled into Killyleagh. It was a pretty little town situated on the blue waters of Strangford Lough, a sea lough dotted with islands and rocky outcroppings. The thatched cottages that lined the main road were painted green and yellow and a soft blue. Alex leaned her nose against the window, a smile spreading across her face as the silhouette of the castle came into view. It looked like it had come straight from a fairy tale with tall towers and round turrets. It was built from gray and tan stone that gleamed with a bluish purple color in the afternoon light. The facade brought to mind medieval knights and ladies with brightly colored conical hats.

"Oh, Baylor, isn't it grand?"

Baylor leaned down toward the window and peered out. "That it is, lass. That it is."

As they neared it, Alex saw the rock wall surrounding it and the gatehouse with an iron gate. "We have to visit the castle to look for clues. Do you think they'll let us inside?" She hadn't thought about the gatehouse and soldiers who might be guarding the place.

"Once you flash your bonny smile at them, they're sure to let us by." Baylor grinned. Montague sat up and joined them looking out the window. "We should stop at the inn first and find out about the owners."

"And get some supper." Baylor patted his round stomach. "I could eat a sheep with the wool still on, I'm so hungry."

Alex laughed. "It's a good plan. Let's find out the situation before we approach the gate. And my parents must have stayed in the town. I can question the innkeeper."

The carriage continued up a long hill and then stopped in front of the Dufferin Coaching Inn.

It was a pretty building, painted a pale blue with stone on the bottom half. They entered to find a neat sitting room and off to one side a long dining room where groups of tables and chairs sat mostly empty this time of day. A woman with a wide apron and a friendly smile came from the dining room, a platter in her hands.

"Well hello, there," she greeted them. "You've just arrived on the coach then, I see. Wouldn't you like to freshen up and have some tea? I have fresh barmbrack just from the oven."

"Thank you, ma'am. We'll be needing beds for the night too," Alex ventured. She hoped Baylor and Montague could share a room even though Baylor was so huge. She needed to watch her spending and she'd insisted on paying their way as long as they were helping her. If only the duke would send her more money. The thought of him arriving on Holy Island and finding her gone made her stomach drop. What would Henry and Ann tell him? And what would he do next? There was no way to get his letters now. Henry and Ann didn't know where in Ireland she'd gone. She hadn't been able to risk it, even knowing how tight-lipped and loyal the two were.

Well, it couldn't be helped. She needed Baylor and Montague and had to trust that God would help her coins stretch. He'd done it with the loaves and the fishes and so many times when needs were too great for her allowance on Holy Island. She was sure He would make a way this time too.

"There's plenty of room, dearie. Just go on in to the dinin' room there and have a seat by the fire. I'll bring some cider and barmbrack for your men there."

"Thank you."

Alex led the way toward the dining room, stepped one foot inside, and then stopped cold. There, sitting with his head bent over a book of some kind, was the Spaniard and he wasn't alone. Had he followed them here, or had he come before them for clues of his own?

Alex backed up, motioning for Baylor and Montague to back quickly away too. The three of them hugged the corner of the room, just outside the door to the dining room.

"What is it?" Baylor asked, trying to whisper but still too loud.

"Shhh." Alex warned. "It's him. The Spanish man who was following us, and this time there are two of them."

"It cannot be," Montague intoned and then stealthily crept to the doorway and glanced in. "It is him."

Alex motioned him away from the door. "They have to be after the same thing we are looking for. It's the only explanation."

"What are we looking for? I thought your parents," Baylor whispered.

"Yes, of course. But my parents were hired to find something important. I don't know yet what they were searching for, but it must have been very valuable. These men must be looking for it and following us to see if we find the clues first."

Baylor and Montague exchanged glances. "We need to turn the tables on them, spy on them for a change. But they'll recognize us; they know our faces."

"We could make a disguise," Alex suggested. "Montague, if you shaved off that mustache and beard and we powdered your hair—"

"No." His answer was immediate and definite.

Alex looked up at Baylor. Impossible to disguise his size. She had an image come to mind of him dressed as a woman, which made her press her lips together to keep from laughing. "I can't imagine any disguise working on you."

Baylor shrugged.

Montague turned toward her. "You're the only one who could do it and quickly enough to get in there right now."

"But how?" Alex looked around the room, seeing tablecloths and lace doilies. What could she do with them?

"We'll dress you as a man. I've an extra pair of breeches and boots in my bag. They'll be too big, but with some rope tied around your waist to hold them up and a hat to cover your hair . . . we could use some soot from the fireplace for a little shadowing around your beard."

"My beard?" Alex nearly choked between shock and laughter. "Do you really think it will work? We have to hurry!"

Montague laid his bag onto the floor and dug through it. He tossed articles of clothing at her until there was a pile around her feet. "But where will I change? The serving woman could come back at any moment!"

"Baylor, quick, take off your cloak and make a screen here in the corner. Alexandria, we'll turn our backs but hurry."

Baylor made the screen and Alex scurried into the borrowed clothing, stuffing her skirt into Montague's bag. By the time she was finished, Montague had come back from the fireplace with dark smudged fingers. "Here now, hold still."

The smell of ashes burnt her nose as he tapped the blackness against her upper lip and chin. She stood mute, with lips together in a half panic. "What if they recognize me!"

"We'll be right here, should you need us." Montague assured her.

Baylor leaned down and gave her a broad grin that took up his entire face. He patted her cheek with a quiet chuckle. "Ach, but you're a pretty lad. Never fear. They'll think you too young to have much sense yet."

"He's right. Sit close enough to hear them but with your back turned toward them."

"What about the serving woman? She's sure to recognize me and wonder where you two are!"

"We'll take care of her. Now go." Montague turned her by the shoulders toward the door to the dining room.

Alex took a deep breath and steadied her nerves. She could do this. Just keep her head down and her back to the Spaniards as much as possible. When her feet didn't move, Baylor nudged her into the room.

The scuffle of her overly large boots brought the gaze of everyone to her face. There was one other couple having what looked to be a light repast and a serious conversation. Alex looked at them with a polite nod in their direction and then made for the table by the fire. She glanced at the men, one tall and skinny with a thin mustache and line of a beard; the other one, the one she hadn't seen before was his opposite, short with a round stomach, black hair, and a chubby-cheeked face.

The short one looked up. Alex hurriedly looked at the floor, sidestepped around a table, and went to the fire as if to warm herself. A glance at them gave her a sigh of relief. They were pouring over the book again. She slowly made her way to the table beside them and sat down, her back to the Spaniards. They didn't look up from their book, they were so intent on it.

"The answers must be in here," the tall, bony man hissed.

"I am a slow reader, my liege." His voice was high and full of fear.

Alex heard a quick
thwack
and jumped in her chair.

"What was the king thinking? Sending
you
with me. I might as well have a stone tied around my neck."

"Ouch," the short, stout man replied. "You hit me!"

"And I'll hit you again if you don't stop being so stupid. We finally have the upper hand on that Featherstone girl. Our first stroke of luck was getting into the castle and finding Sloane's journal. We must find out if it says anything about the manuscript."

A sudden clatter of dishes had the diners looking up toward the doorway. A young serving girl came into the room. She went to each table and set down tea and the sweet bread. Alex kept her head down and waved the girl off when she came to her table, sighing in relief when the girl moved on. When Alex looked up, her heart sank. The Spaniards had abandoned their table. She'd heard so little! She hurried from the room to find her friends.

She was more than a little shocked to see Montague in the parlor, standing close to the serving woman they'd first met, stroking her plump cheek and laughing in a way Alex had never seen him laugh. The woman was blushing, tilting her head with a coy glance while Montague murmured phrases to her in a low, husky voice. So that was what he meant by taking care of it.

Thinking to rescue him, she made her way to the pair. "There you are, Montague. Goodness but I'm tired. Have you managed rooms for us?" She looked up at him and then smiled at the serving woman, brows raised.

Montague frowned, his gray brows coming together over azure eyes. "Mistress Tinsdale has been all that is accommodating. She was just telling me that the Hamilton Rowans reside in that castle you are so keen to see."

"Oh yes. My sister is the housekeeper there and will give you a tour, she will." The plump woman promised with an adoring smile at Montague.

"That would be lovely! When can we see it?" Alex clasped her hands together for added effect. Crafty old fox. His talents were vaster than she'd realized.

"I've sent a note round to my sister. We should hear back shortly, but it will most likely be on the morrow . . . to work around the family's schedule, you see. They don't like to be disturbed."

"Of course."

"In the meantime Mistress Tinsdale has ordered cook to prepare her finest for us. You should go and"—he lifted his brows and looked askance at her strange clothing, which Alex had forgotten about—"freshen up."

Alex gazed down at the breeches she was wearing and flushed. Mistress Tinsdale must think her daft for changing from the skirt she'd recently seen her in to men's clothing. "I was going to play a prank on our giant friend." She shook her head like it would be hard to explain. "I'll just go up to my room and change before dinner. Where, exactly, is my room?"

Mistress Tinsdale didn't seem too appalled, only distantly confused. "Up the stairs. The first door on the left. You've a room to yourself, dearie, as we only have two other occupants aside from your fine selves."