Page 81 of The Duchess Debt

Helena stopped Gabe just long enough to give a quick kiss of appreciation to his cheek for not committing murder. He didn’t possess the same faith in Adam that she did, but he prayed she wouldn’t be too disappointed when she eventually realized what Gabe had known all along—

His little brother was irredeemable.

They found the innkeeper back in his place in the public room behind the counter that served as the heart of the inn—guest registration by day, bar by night, and post office every afternoon. It also served as the ticket office for the stagecoach and all horse and carriage rentals for the village. He busied himself by wiping down a set of glasses with a towel.

But the man was still agitated by that morning’s events upstairs, and around them in the room, gossip swirled about thelocal duke who had stormed into the room and yanked a naked man from his bed. By nightfall, Gabe knew, the rumors would have grown until the prostitute became the duke’s wife, and the man he’d yanked from the bed killed in a duel behind the barns. He’d had more than enough experience with slander and gossip to know how it transformed from the truth. Yet for the first time in his life, he didn’t care.

“Lady Alice is missing,” Gabe told the innkeeper.

Brown stopped in mid wipe. “How can I help?”

“We think her nanny took her,” Helena told him. “Mary Potts. Have you seen her?”

He shook his head and set down the glass. “I wouldn’t know her nanny from a stranger at the docks,” he admitted. “No offense, Miss, but the goings-on at the big house and who’s employed to mind the wee one doesn’t claim much of my attention.”

“No.” Her shoulders slumped as she murmured in defeat, “I can’t imagine it would.”

“I did sell tickets to the mail coach this morning a few hours before dawn to a lone woman traveling with a child.” He shook his head and leaned his large palms on the countertop. “Twasn’t a girl she had with her, though, but a boy. The woman said she was the boy’s auntie and was taking him back to his kin in London.”

“Could they have been in disguise?” Gabe pressed. “A girl dressed as a boy?”

“Suppose so.” He rubbed beefy fingers at his nape as he pondered that. “I didn’t get a good look at the child. She told the lad to wait just outside the door while she came in to buy the seats. Called the boy George.” Guilt darkened his round face. “I would never have let that woman leave if I’d thought the child was Lady Alice, Your Grace.”

“It’s not your fault,” Gabe assured him. “Are you certain she departed on the stagecoach to London?”

“Aye.” He nodded emphatically. “She complained ‘bout the state o‘ the seats. Said they were filthy and smelled to high heaven.”

“That would be Nanny Potts, all right,” Helena confirmed beneath her breath.

“When did they leave?” Gabe asked.

“About two hours ago.”

“Thank you.” Gabe took Helena’s arm to escort her from the inn. If they rode hard, they could catch up to the coach before the next change of teams. “Let’s go.”

Adam stepped up to the counter beside them and told the innkeeper, “I need to rent a horse.” He tossed a coin onto the counter. “The best you have.”

Mr. Brown snatched up the coin and waved to a groom sitting in front of the fire, eating a breakfast of yesterday’s leftover stew and brown bread. The groom pulled at the brim of his cap and hurried over.

“You two go on,” Adam urged Gabe and Helena. “The woman Brown sold those tickets to has to be the nanny, so there’s no point in Helena remaining behind to search the estate. Besides,” he added, his voice growing softer, “Alice is probably frightened and will want her new mother there to comfort her.”

Helena bit her lip and nodded.

“I’ll get the horse and catch up with you,” Adam assured them. “Most likely before you reach the old turnpike crossroads.”

Gabe’s gut tightened. Adam was lying. He knew it the same way old sailors sensed oncoming storms in their bones. Yet he silently took Helena’s arm and led her out of the inn to their waiting horses. He bent down and cupped his hands for her tostep into, then lifted her up to her saddle and helped her settle onto her seat.

She looked over her shoulder at the inn. “Should we wait for Adam?”

Gabe shook his head. He knew he’d never see his brother again. To reassure her, though, he repeated Adam’s lie, “He’ll catch up before the crossroads.”

Then he mounted his horse, tapped his heels to the gelding’s sides, and started off with Helena closely behind. He didn’t look back.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Helena bit her thumb nail as she paced in the corner of the coaching yard where the inn connected to the carriage house and paid no attention to all the activity around them. The late morning was busy, with guests and workers coming and going, men on horseback and others in carriages arriving and leaving, and bar maids carrying out plates of food and tankards of ale to the grooms in the barns. Horses occasionally snorted and pawed out their irritation at all the commotion, especially whenever a dog barked or a rooster forgot the time and sent up a loud cock-a-doodle-do.

A group of children played with little balls and hoops on a patch of grass near the rear paddock, and Helena’s eyes kept straying to them, even though she knew Alice wasn’t among them. She couldn’t help it. Then she dropped her hand away and quickened her pacing, only to bite her thumb again after a few dozen strides.