Mary Jo Putney Read Online Free

strong enough to manage a coach and four, but she handles the curricle as well as I do,” Murphy said.
    Rob’s brows arched. “Surely you exaggerate.”
    A hint of amusement showed in the other man’s eyes. “Yes, but only a little.”
    Rob began pacing around the chapel, studying the grassy soil. On the western side, he found what he was looking for. “A carriage with a team of four stood here for a while. Not too long.” He pointed down the hill, where a subtle trail of crushed vegetation could be seen. “They headed west. Did they follow one of the public pathways you mentioned?”
    Murphy shaded his eyes with one hand. “Aye, the tracks join up with a public way at the foot of this hill. The path continues west to the back of the estate and crosses the Bristol road.”
    Rob swung onto his horse. “Any chance a field hand or tenant might have seen the coach?”
    “Possible,” Murphy agreed as he mounted.
    The coach tracks were easy to follow in the damp earth since no other vehicle had come this way recently. Rob scanned the quiet green landscape, looking for any signs of the kidnappers. Nothing. The estate was vast and empty.
    They were nearing the Bristol road when Rob spotted a flock of sheep grazing the fresh spring grass on a hill to their right. “Shall we see if there’s a shepherd?”
    “There should be one.”
    The sheep were grazing peacefully under the watchful gaze of an efficient herd dog, and the less watchful care of a carrot-haired boy drowsing under a tree nearby. Hearing horses approach, he scrambled to his feet and tried to look alert.
    Reining in his mount, Rob asked, “Did you see a carriage traveling along the public pathway earlier this morning?”
    “Aye,” the boy said. “Noticed it, I did, because I never seen a carriage along there before. Traveled like a bat from hell. Figgered it must be a guest of the duke’s taking the short way across the estate to the Bristol road.”
    Rob leaned forward intently. “Can you describe the carriage?”
    “Oh, aye!” the shepherd said, coming alive. “’Twas a neat traveling coach, not flash, but solid. A tan body and black trim. As fine a team of Cleveland bays pulling as I’ve ever seen. The off leader had a white sock, and both the wheelers had blazes.”
    “Can you describe the driver? Was there a guard? Were there passengers inside?”
    The boy’s face screwed up with thought. “The driver was dark. Beefy. Not sure if there was a guard. Might have been passengers, but I didn’t notice.”
    “You didn’t see a pretty young woman inside?”
    “No, sir,” was the apologetic answer. “Didn’t notice aught but the horses.”
    “Were you able to see which direction the carriage turned into the Bristol road?”
    The boy shook his head. “Can’t see the road from here.”
    At least they had a good description of the carriage. “Thanks for the information.” Rob pulled a half crown from his pocket and tossed it to the boy. “Maybe you should see if they need help in the Ashton stables since you seem to like horses.”
    The young shepherd gaped. “Could I do that?”
    “Never hurts to ask,” Murphy said laconically. “I know the head groom. If you come in to ask for a job, Murphy will hear you out.” He turned his horse toward the road.
    When they were out of hearing, Rob asked, “Do you need a stable hand?”
    “Aye.” Murphy gave a glimmer of a smile. “I like a lad who notices horses more than people.”
    “As long as that red hair of his doesn’t scare the horses.” Rob thought about the boy’s description. The carriage sounded expensive and Cleveland bays were good quality, specially bred carriage horses. A fashionable gentleman would prefer his team to be free of white markings, but men interested in speed and reliability wouldn’t care. The kidnappers had money as well as intelligence and patience. Formidable.
    The tracks led to the Bristol road and didn’t continue on the other side, so as expected, the