Bess laughed and calmed her friend by saying, “Right then, let us first find the dashed thing.”
“The thing is, I know you. We shall find this blasted God-awful Gypsy and his wagon. I know it. That farmer pointed us in the right direction, and I feel it in my bones that we are getting close.” She nodded and said, “There—I can see the circle of Gypsy wagons in that unplowed field down the road …”
Bess frowned and said, “I don’t like it. This doesn’t make sense.”
“First bright thing you have said since we started out on this absurd venture.”
“No, I mean … look, that camp can be seen from the road. They have permission to camp there no doubt and have no concern.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning our Gypsy has concerns. He wouldn’t want to be near his camp, would he, if he means to conclude his business with the boy?” Bess indicated the woods that bordered the road with an inclination of her head. “Come on—we need to get nearer without being seen.”
They took a shortcut through the woods and slowed their steeds so they could get a better look at the Gypsy camp.
A camp fire had already been lit, and men were milling about preparing the fire so the women could cook for their lunch. Jesting and back slapping indicated that they had no present concerns.
Donna said, “I can’t breathe, I can’t—”
“La, but just
hush, Donna! You are still screaming, and although we are at a distance, someone might hear you and come to investigate.”
“What are we going to do?”
“I am not sure. Perhaps we can just ride up to them and dismount. After all, it is broad daylight still, and we could just profess a curiosity or say we are interested in buying some leathers or—”
“Or? Listen to me, Lady Elizabeth of Saunders. There is no or!” snapped Donna. “We are going to turn around, and ride back, and get the men.”
“Not yet.” Bess shook her head. “Here is the thing, Donna. I don’t see the Gypsy wagon in question. I thought I would just maybe idly ask about it.”
“You will do nothing of the sort!”
“Yes, but—” Bess started.
“No. If your Gypsy wagon isn’t here, that is that. We shall get the men and then hunt it down. Mine is the better plan.”
“No, Donna. I don’t see his wagon in that circle of caravans. Each one has a unique design, no doubt signifying their status. His was very different, and it isn’t there,” Bess said as she scanned the circle of vehicles.
“If your Gypsy wagon isn’t here, that is that. We shall get the men and then hunt it down—that is the smart thing to do.”
“Perhaps, but it might then be too late,” Bess whined. “Think about it. If our Gypsy has gone off by himself, he must be planning to do something to the boy soon and doesn’t want witnesses.”
“Yes, but how do we know where he has gone off to? He could be anywhere,” Donna complained. “Time to get back, Bess. I am certain that Robby and the earl will be at Searington by now and looking for us. I don’t like to worry Robby.”
“Robby will think we went into town to do some shopping. He won’t worry yet.” And then she heard something on the road, and not the main road flanking the woods but one that cut through the woods. It was an old, little-used dirt road.
Carriage wheels. She heard the sound of carriage wheels lumbering over a badly rutted road.
Bess silently thanked the heavens for the thick brush hiding their presence in the woods as she watched a brightly painted wagon, with its unique and familiar design and the two same cob horses she had seen before, lumber heavily down the country dirt road.
She and Donna exchanged glances before Bess said, “As I said, he obviously doesn’t want to make camp with his friends.”
“Oh no, oh no,” Donna started to moan.
“I am telling you, Donna, he is going to do something horrible to that boy soon.” It was in that moment that Bess made up her mind. “I am going to follow him, and you are going to fetch the men. Go now, Donna, go now.”
“But how will I know where you will be?” Donna was shrieking again.