She could have died. A shudder of fear shook Harlow as he realized how close she had come to death, and how close he had come to losing the person he needed to share his life. A groom had reported seeing a lantern thrown into one of the back stalls, confirming their suspicions that the fire had been no accident.
Harlow hated to leave Lilian, but duty demanded it. The ride to the cave was quiet for much of the way. By the time Harlow and Max arrived, the Dragoon Captain Newman had already had him take up a position out of the sight of any townsfolk or passers-by.
“It is good to see you, m’lord. Thank you for your notice. I have my men in place,” Captain Newman stated. “They have their sights on the opening where we expect the skirmish and are ready to arrest the conspirators.”
“Be alert for two people,” Max cut in. “A man with a dark moustache who will, most likely, be garbed in black. The other one is Lady Catherine Poinz. We believe them to be the accomplice and the ringleader—or else closely in league with them.”
“The widow Poinz?” Newman paled.
“Yes. Is there something we should know, Captain?” Harlow asked in a menacing tone. DeLacey heard the exchange and moved closer. “If you have something to say, say it. Lives are at stake, not just a boat and its booty.”
“I may have seen her early this morning, riding a horse. We had hidden, so she did not see us, but had we known she was a focal point of this operation, we would have held her for questioning.”
Harlow breathed a sigh of relief. He had been afraid Newman would say he had spoken to her or that she had seen him. If she knew they were watching, she would cancel everything. Relief was clear on Max’s and DeLacey’s faces, too.
“Where did you say you saw her?” he persisted.
“She was riding like the wind towards the coast. I cannot be sure where she had been, but it was clear she was determined to get somewhere fast.”
Not sure what to make of that, Harlow and Max looked at each other.
“What was she wearing?” Max asked.
“A yellow gown and a black hat with a feather, although the hat was barely hanging on her head. She appeared to have it secured with a ribbon about her neck.
“Send word to your men, if you will. Tell them we need the pair for questioning, nothing more. Thank you for your information,” Max finished, dismissing the Captain.
“Cressey, we need to talk to you,” Harlow said, his face set, “in private.”
DeLacey’s cave was most elaborate. Small holes, covered loosely by brushwood, allowed light to filter from the top, although he was not sure those were not the result of the weather and the sea unleashing its vengeance on the cliff’s sides. If a person stepped on a hole from above, they could wedge their foot and break an ankle. However, the chances of that happening seemed remote. He was correct in his assertion that no one had used the cave in years. A colony of bats flew past them as they walked deeper, looking for a place of privacy. Sparse light, offered by the small holes in the top, allowed them to adjust their vision more readily.
“This looks like a good spot,” Max remarked.
“What is it you have to say? Does it have anything to do with the two of you being late?” DeLacey snapped, his tone critical. “This should all start to unfold in a few hours,”
Harlow stepped up and looked him squarely in the eye. “Your sister almost died in a stable fire, along with your head groom and the horses.”
The air whooshed out of DeLacey, and he staggered. “Is she well?” His voice trembled.
At least the man cares for his family, Harlow reflected. “Yes, she is. You have not met him, but a small puppy she rescued, a little more than a week past, saved her life. It may sound fantastical, yet the truth is, he and her horse both did,” Harlow explained.
“They all saved each other,” Max put in. “We were convinced the widow’s man was responsible…or we were until Captain Newman shared his information. The widow would have had access to the estate at the time of the fire, and she was coming from that direction. Motive is the only loose string.”
“Motive? The woman hates my family. I should rather say she hates my mother.” DeLacey drew in air between his teeth, almost hissing. “I should have been there.”
“We were there, and that did not stop this from happening.” Max paused. “May we ask why there is acrimony between them? It is important. Your mother and the widow had what I would describe as an impassioned exchange yesterday morning, in town. She was directing her remarks to Lady Lilian and your mother interceded.”
DeLacey inclined his head. “Once upon a time, she threw her cap at my father. Their parents were acquaintances and had always spoken of the two becoming betrothed, but my father met my mother and any betrothal to the widow ran aground,” DeLaney explained. “In the end, she married a man as old as her own father, who, while rich, was not what she had wished for. She coveted being a Countess as much as being wealthy. Keep in mind this is my father’s account. There could be more.”
“That matches with my theory. I believe the widow singled out your sister when she saw Lady Lilian had caught the fancy of Lord Harlow, here. He may not want to acknowledge it, but many women dangle after him.” Max’s lips turned up in a slight
