Only when they reached the outlying buildings at the edge of the village did Beatrice pull up the reins and slow the mare’s pace. The last thing she needed was to draw attention to herself. Anyone who saw her would surely wonder why she’d been riding so wildly, and might draw a conclusion she didn’t wish for them to draw.

Still, every passing second was one second more in which Broc suffered.

The village was starting to come to life, the sun’s light beginning to creep over the thatched roofs of the cottages which lined the street on which she rode. Doors opened, and out poured the men and women who had chores to complete and work to get to.

She nodded in greeting to everyone who acknowledged her. If she ignored them or behaved as though she was disturbed, they would see through her.

Winifred Baker made eye contact as they passed. The woman walked with a wide basket stacked high with bread, balancing it on one hip as she made deliveries for her husband. Beatrice nodded with a smile, hoping the woman was too busy to think much of her appearance so early in the morning.

The only inn she knew of was on the main street, and she brought the mare to a stop in front of it. The door was open, so she tied the horse off to a post in front of the building and hurried inside.

The innkeeper greeted her with a wide smile. She recognized him, having seen him in the village for years, even if she had never been inside the inn.

It was a rather unpleasant smelling place, musty and full of dust. There was a large room just beyond where she entered, with several tables and chairs. At one of them, a pair of men sat and ate what looked like a rather dry, withered roast.

She took all of this in with a single glance, her heart sinking when she didn’t recognize the men at the table. She’d hoped Hugh and Derek would be easy to find. If only one thing could go easily, she would’ve been grateful.

The key would be to make certain the innkeeper—she didn’t even know his name, she realized—didn’t think anything was amiss when she asked after the two Scotsmen.

“What can I do for you?” he asked.

“I understand a trio of foreigners were staying here with you,” she began. Her palms went slick with sweat as her heart raced out of control. She could almost hear it pounding away.

“Indeed,” he replied, his smile fading to nearly nothing.

“They paid me a visit yesterday,” she continued, perceiving his change in demeanor and wondering what she could do to cheer him again. “I was hoping to speak to them, if they were awake and available for a call. Is there any way you could send someone to their room and let them know I’m waiting for them?”

He shook his head, and for a moment she was certain he’d send word to Lord Randall that she had been asking around after Broc’s traveling companions. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind that everyone in the village knew of their presence and why they’d come.

“I’m sorry, but they left at dawn.”

“They what?” she gasped before she could stop herself. “I mean, so early? I was not of the understanding that they’d intended to leave yet.”

“Well, your betrothed made certain they wouldn’t be a trouble to you ever again,” he beamed. “Lord Randall is a good protector, and you’re fortunate to have such a powerful man looking after you.”

“Yes, I am,” she replied with a sinking heart, a fake smile stretching her lips.

“You don’t have to worry about them any longer,” he continued, as though he believed she should be proud.

She supposed he wanted to feel more important than he was, too, and enjoyed being at the center of an exciting story which otherwise had nothing to do with him.

“Why not?”

“Because your future husband ordered them to leave the village. They were to be on their way, or else Lord Randall would…” He allowed himself to trail off, widening his eyes and shrugging. Not that he needed to continue.

“Which way did they go? I only want to be certain I won’t run into them on the way home,” she added.

“You should not. They came in from Silloth, so they should be traveling west.”

“Thank you for your help.” She took slow, easy steps outside, taking her time at untying the reins and mounting the gray mare. If she hurried, it might appear as though she was anxious to catch up with the men.

Which she was.

Would they truly leave without Broc? This was what she couldn’t understand. Staying and looking for him would mean sacrificing their safety, but it would mean sacrificing him to leave. Were they truly good, trustworthy men?

Her sister’s letter had said so. She had married Derek! That meant he had to be a man of honor. Did it not?

Men of honor did not desert their friends.

Unless…

They believed there was another reason for him to not be with them?

She managed to keep the horse at a steady walk until she was outside the village. Then, she drove her heels into its sides and took off at a full run.

Heading west.