Dominic fought the urge to punch something; or rather someone. He took a deep breath and with every ounce of willpower he possessed, attempted to keep his voice calm and impassive as he slowly returned to them.
“What do you know about the circumstances of her death?” Although his voice was quiet, the intonation was deadly. The Magistrate knew instinctively that should he not give the man the answers he needed, he would certainly become a ruthless adversary.
The Magistrate shivered. “Nothing much I am afraid. Nobody seems to know anything. I have extensively questioned the farmer who found her. She wasn’t there the afternoon before, but sometime between dusk and dawn, she -” He paused not wanting to incur the taller man’s wrath.
“They dumped her,” Dominic finished for him, studying the shorter man closely. Something warned him that the man wasn’t being entirely truthful, and they weren’t getting all of the facts.
“There were no tracks at all? Nothing? No strangers in the village or the pub either before or afterwards?” Dominic didn’t try to keep the disbelief out of his voice. He wanted the man to know that he sensed something was amiss.
Warily, the small man shook his head. “Nothing I’m afraid, Sir.”
Dominic wanted to push him further, but held the words back when Peter shifted uncomfortably beside him. He frowned slightly at Peter’s warning look, and lapsed into sullen silence. Clearly Peter considered the man wasn’t entirely being dishonest, but wasn’t being completely forthright with them either. Frustration clawed and burned in his stomach.
Dominic couldn’t bear to hear any more, and when the men began to discuss the movement of the body, he took several steps away from them, disappearing into the encroaching gloom for a few private moments to compose himself.
His abrupt departure made the Magistrate to jump in shock, as he scanned the swirling mists around them warily. Like a ghost, the big man simply vanished without a sound.
With a shiver, he turned to the somewhat reassuring bulk of the man beside him. “I will give you my direction. Should you need any further assistance please do not hesitate.”
At the other man’s abrupt nod, he quickly took his leave and with a curt bow, spun on his heel and made for his curricle as fast as his heels could carry him.
Several minutes later, with a final lingering look at the grave site, Peter and Dominic turned and made their own way carefully around the assembled gravestones surrounding the old Norman church.
“Do you think she was trying to get to get to Melton when Rupert caught up with her?” Dominic was unable to keep the whisper of hope from his voice.
Knowing his friend well, Peter heard the unspoken question. “I think she may have been, but we know she didn’t get there. God why, Dominic? Why kill her?” Pain and anger laced his voice as Peter raged. “Wasn’t it bad enough that Rupert had already tried to sell her to that bloody scoundrel DeLisle? Why kill her?”
Images and thoughts of her final moments swirled around in his head, many too hideous to contemplate. What had they done to her that they needed to hide?
Isobel was undoubtedly beautiful and clever. He also knew from the long hours he had spent listening to Peter recount their childhood, that she had a wild and slightly reckless side that once revealed, was difficult to contain. He too had encountered her wilful streak that at the time had unmanned him, and strengthened his desire to make her his wife as soon as possible. Was it this wild side Rupert had been unable to vanquish? Had her own stubborn refusal to bow down to him led her to her death?
Solidarity and silence settled between the two men as they rode through the night. Tall and proud, and clearly of military bearing, their presence was so blatantly menacing that even the gang of ruthless highwaymen lurking in the bushes watched them pass without a murmur.
The Magistrate also watched both men slowly disappear into the swirling fog shrouding the evening air. Shaking his head, he puffed out a deep sigh of relief as they finally disappeared into the gloom. His collar felt uncomfortably tight as he considered the events of the evening, and the possible disaster narrowly averted.
“That was close,” he muttered quietly to himself. “Very close.” He frowned as he clambered aboard his curricle. He could only hope that both men would soon depart from the area, and life could return to normal. He needed them out of the area, before they discovered the truth.
Easing his curricle onto the rutted track, he turned his horse, thankfully, in the opposite direction towards home. He had a strange sense of foreboding that tonight wasn’t the last he would see of them. Shaking off the pervading sense of doom, he carefully shot their retreating backs one last worried glance, before clicking his horse into a faster walk.
He had made a promise to a friend a long time ago, that he would take whatever action necessary if he was called upon, and indeed, he had. He could only hope that the actions he had taken today had been the right ones. As he trotted along, doubts began to creep in and his involvement in events a month ago suddenly didn’t seem so sound. Well intended or not. Their distress upon confirming the identity of the gently bred woman had been a true and honest reaction, so why had he been asked to secure the outcome he had?
Wishing he had insisted on details of the current whereabouts, he pondered the questions lurking in the back of his mind, and the growing sense of unease about the entire situation, before he considered the wisdom of revealing the truth.
As he passed, he glanced towards the small cross in the far corner of the darkening graveyard, and the empty grave it marked.
“I don’t believe he has told us everything, do you?” Dominic asked raising a querying brow at Peter as they rode through the darkness, toward the soft glow of lights within the small village.
“No, I don’t. He is withholding something,” Peter absently considered the thickening fog around them.
“Do you think he is an associate of Rupert’s? We know that Rupert was in the area at the same time. All the trails we have followed so far lead him here at the right time.” Considering what could have happened to her was, at the moment, keeping Dominic sane. He had to do something, or he might just go quietly mad. “We also know that he has not been seen since. He hasn’t been back to any of his old haunts since the middle of last month.”
“When Isobel was kidnapped,” Peter’s breath fogged out before him. “Someone got to him, I am sure of it, but until we get more information on Sir Hubert Williams and his associates, we need to be very careful.”
“I won’t give up on this Peter,” Dominic warned. “If he is involved in any of this, Magistrate or not, he is as duplicitous as your uncle.” The underlying threat in his voice made the other man shiver. “Both will pay for their crimes.”
CHAPTER THREE
He had forgotten it was market day. Cursing fluidly beneath his breath, he nodded brusquely at the familiar faces who called to him as he rode through the milling throng along the main street of Melton Mowbray, one of Leicestershire’s largest market towns.