trying to help him. If you see him again, tell him to stay put. Send word to Lacey's house if you can.'
Waller did not argue. 'Are you going to be living there now?' he asked me. 'Have a nephew who could help out with the grounds.'
I was growing used to this refrain, but it stood to reason. The country people would consider it my duty to give them employment, and I agreed with them.
'Send him 'round,' I said. 'I am certain he will have plenty to do. To return to this man you patched up, where did he go after he left you?'
'Don't know, and that's the truth. He walked out into the storm and disappeared. He must have gone south, because he didn't take none of my boats. Never saw him again.'
His words rang with sincerity. I imagined that Waller had been happy to see the alarming man vanish.
'You are certain he said that someone wanted to kill him?' I asked.
'He looked that frightened,' Waller said. 'Don't know who could make a big man like that so scared, but I don't want to meet such a one.'
Grenville fed Waller another crown, and we took our leave. Bartholomew and Matthias joined us after coming out of the miller's house.
'Nothing there,' Bartholomew said. 'Plenty of birds' nests and animal tracks, but no Cooper, dead or alive.'
'What now, Lacey?' Grenville asked as he let Matthias boost him onto his horse. 'We search south? If Cooper worried about someone trying to kill him, would he not seek Denis's protection? Or at least get word to him?'
'I don't know,' I said, not liking what I was thinking. 'But I intend to ask Mr. Denis.'
We rode back to Wells, and from there turned south, asking everyone we saw along the way about Cooper. No one had seen any man they didn't know, injured or otherwise, in the last few days.
I rose in my stirrups as the day started to darken. To the north was a line of gray that marked the marshes, to the east, west, and south, green farmland, much of it enclosed now.
Many of the commons and heaths I remembered from boyhood had vanished. Enclosures beggared people as much as bad harvests did, because the poorer tenant farmers and villagers could no longer run their sheep on the commons or raise food on part of it. Large landholders were squeezing out the small, the way of the world.
I sank to my saddle in frustration. Cooper could be anywhere. He might have taken a mail coach to London or north to Lincolnshire or south to Suffolk. Or he could have paid a fisherman to take him to Amsterdam in Easton's wake. Combing the countryside was producing nothing.
'At least we have discovered that he was alive a few days ago,' Grenville said, moving his horse beside mine. 'If he could walk away after losing his entire hand, then he is indeed strong. He'll turn up somewhere. He's probably lying low, nursing himself back to health.'
If he did not die of fever first. The wounds from amputations had to be burned, or the remainder of the limb- indeed, the rest of the body-could fester. Men died even when it seemed they'd recovered from the injury.
I recalled the remains of the campfire I'd seen near the blood. Cooper could have built that fire and plunged the stump of his arm into it once he'd cut off the badly injured hand. If so, Cooper had vast strength of will and the bravery of a lion.
But he might have done it. Denis had known, even as a child, that throwing in his lot with Cooper was the way to survival. Denis was no fool.
'We should return to Easton's,' I said. What I would do there, I kept to myself.
Grenville adjusted his hat and pulled his greatcoat closer against the wind. 'I'm afraid I'll be traveling back to London in the morning, Lacey. I've had a letter from Marianne.'
His tone was so somber that I looked at him quickly. 'Bad news?'
'No, nothing like that. She has reached London again and says she wishes to consult with me. I can only imagine what that means.'
With Marianne Simmons, one never knew. Her urgent need might mean life or death or a shortage of the snuff she liked so much.
'I am certain Denis will be pleased to have me to himself,' I said.
'Not if you come with me. Not that I wish harm to come to Mr. Cooper, but now that we know he's alive, surely Denis has better resources to send after him than you. Evidence of Cooper at the windmill should be enough to point him in the right direction. Let us go to London and be finished with Denis and his band of thieves.'
I wanted to agree. I was ready to meet up with Lady Breckenridge and move on to planning what we'd do in our married life. How much more satisfying to discuss renovations to my old house from the comfort of her warm sitting room-even better, from the comfort of her bedchamber.
Or perhaps we should not return to Norfolk at all. I could try to find a way to break the entail and sell the house, if even for pittance. I would marry Donata and bury myself at the Breckenridge estate until her son grew up and tossed us into the dower house. Viscount Breckenridge's lands were in Hampshire, a beautiful place in a serene valley. Donata would always want her Season in London, but I could be the stodgy husband who remained in the country all year, seeing to the farms and fishing. I knew that Donata had no such life in mind for us, but it was a pleasant fantasy.
'I'm afraid I must stay a little longer,' I said with reluctance. 'There is more to Cooper's disappearance than meets the eye, and I have a few other things to resolve.'
'The missing vicar's daughter?' Grenville asked. 'I can be as suspicious as you at times, Lacey, but all evidence points to the fact that she eloped. And now the publican's son has confirmed he helped her run away.'
'No, I do not mean Miss Quinn.'
Grenville eyed me in curiosity, but I could not answer him. I had personal conflicts to resolve-between myself and Buckley, between myself and Terrance Quinn, between myself and my mother's revelations.
'Go to London,' I said. 'Give Marianne my best wishes.'
Grenville shot me a dark look, but we spoke no more about it.
Denis had shut himself away with other business, I was informed when I returned. I told the lackey who'd come out to meet me to report that I'd found trace of Cooper.
I washed and refreshed myself in my chamber, and Bartholomew brought me a glass of hock and a small, cold supper. After that, Denis sent for me.
Again he dismissed the man who stood guard and spoke with me alone in the study.
'The windmill keeper treated Cooper's injury,' Denis said when I'd finished my tale. 'And then Cooper vanished? You believed this?'
'I see no reason for Waller to lie about it. By all evidence he'd been happy to see the back of Cooper.'
Denis's eyes went sharp. 'I wager this Waller knows more than what he told you. Why did you not question him more closely?'
'I questioned him thoroughly, I assure you. Grenville's lavishness with coin loosened Waller's tongue.'
'I disagree.' Denis's voice was calm, but I heard rage behind it. 'He told you what you wanted to hear. He would have told you nothing at all if you'd not seen the blood. Then you prompted him into the tale of patching up a man with a missing hand, and he agreed to it.'
'If you believe him hiding Cooper, we searched. Cooper wasn't there.'
'At first light, you will show me the way there, and I will search. And question the man. He will open up to me far quicker, no need for Grenville's coin.'
'No,' I said.
Denis's eyes widened, his anger no longer hidden. 'What did you say?'
'I am finished with this search,' I said. 'Finished running about the countryside in all weather on your errands, while you lie to me. I have some private business to conclude, and then I will be returning to London.'
'No, you will not.'
'I say I will. Find Cooper on your own. Waller told me that Cooper was in fear for his life. I can imagine only one man Cooper would fear.' I took a firmer grim on my walking stick. 'That man is you. I refuse to hunt Cooper down and hand him over to you so that you can kill him.'
