Free The Riddle of the Reluctant Rake by Patricia Veryan Page B

and it won’t hurt—well, it won’t endanger the lady to wait just a little while longer to see a doctor.”
    He turned northward for a mile before releasing his appropriated horses in a patch of woodland. Cecily Hall’s lovely eyes haunted him, but the tracks of four horses were clear in the snow; Prior should have no difficulty following them. The redhead’s opinion of him at about this time was easy to imagine, but he told himself that they had the fire and there was still some of that very good fruitcake for a makeshift breakfast.
    He kept to the trees for some distance, emerging eventually at the foot of a hill, and then guiding Toreador to the west. It was daylight now, but there were few people abroad on this cold early morning and he stayed well clear of occasional travellers in case they might later be questioned by Prior. He was soon cantering towards Singletree. The lodge gates came into view and he began to rehearse what he would say to Mr. Prior. It would be a tricky situation, he thought grimly, but by heaven, if it was humanly possible—
    His reflections were interrupted by the pounding of rapidly approaching hooves. A large group, by the sound of it; too many for him to deal with. He sent Toreador plunging behind some tall shrubs and swung from the saddle to hold the grey’s nostrils.
    Scant seconds later a dozen or more mounted men rode through the gates. The husky individual in the lead drew rein, and as they gathered around him proceeded to bark out commands. A young man, a groom by the look of him, appeared to venture a suggestion. The leader’s voice rose to an irritated roar, cutting off the youth’s remarks. He waved his arms imperatively and there were no more comments.
    Between the low-crowned hat and the muffling scarf Adair glimpsed bushy red eyebrows. This harsh-voiced gentleman must be the father of Rufus and Alice Prior. He was clearly leading a search party. The stern-faced men separated into small groups and rode off in varying directions, the youth who had spoken trailing along dejectedly.
    There could be no doubting whence had come young Prior’s hot temper, yet Alice was such a gentle, shy little creature. Miss Cecily Hall seemed cast in the same mold as her uncle. To think of her made Adair squirm. He could have saved the search party considerable time by directing them to the cottage. On the other hand, Mr. Prior was more likely to shoot him than to listen. Besides, this was an undreamt-of opportunity and he dared not waste it. He watched until the searchers were out of sight, then turned Toreador onto the Singletree drivepath.
    The maid who answered the prolonged clamour of the doorbell was very young and pale, and clearly frightened. Pushing past her, Adair demanded authoritatively to see Mr. Alfred Prior.
    â€œMaster be—be out, sir,” she faltered.
    â€œWhat—at this hour?” He turned on her and warned, “See here, my girl, I am Major Newton. Lord Holland has sent me down from London on a most urgent errand. Do not dare tell me untruths, or you are like to end in prison!”
    She half-sobbed an insistence that she was telling the purest truth and went on to explain that there was some of the family lost in last night’s storm, and all the men out seeking them. Tears came into her eyes and she looked so pathetic it was all Adair could do to preserve his fierce pose. He next demanded the housekeeper, but (much to his relief) that lady had gone to visit her ailing mother the previous day and was likely not able to get back “on account of all the snow, sir.”
    In apparent exasperation, he snapped, “Then summon whoever is in charge here! I’m commanded to search this house from attic to cellars, and I must have help!”
    Her jaw dropped. “Search … the house, sir? Whatever for?”
    â€œWhitehall has reason to suspect that a foreign spy has abducted Miss Prior. I am ordered to make