The Duke's Bidding

Chapter 3

Jensen Carter walked into the darkened bedchamber and placed the tea tray and the missive from Robert on the side table. He then went to the windows and flung the thick curtains wide, flooding the room with the morning light. The sky had cleared substantially, and the sunrays came streaming through the clouds.

Carter rocked on his heels while gazing over the square. Nothing like a good rain to clear the haze from all the smoke in the city, he mused. He walked over to the bed curtains to open them. A muffled shout stopped him cold in his tracks. He rushed to the door as he heard the commotion coming from downstairs. Before he could reach the door, one of the footmen knocked loudly. Carter opened it and stepped out.

"What is it, Nate?"

The younger man was bent over and could barely breathe from the exertion of vaulting the stairs. "His Grace—Courier. Waiting for response. Accident at Cedar Lane," he wheezed.

Carter grabbed the letter and ran to the bed, pulling the curtains back.

"Ah," John grabbed his pillow and covered his head, "Do you mind, Carter? What does a fellow need to do to rest around here? Leave me be for a time, will ya?"

"My apologies, my lord. There is an urgent missive from his grace, and the courier is still waiting for a reply."

John let a stream of expletives loose, while pushing himself up on his elbows. He had fallen asleep on his stomach and now had an excruciatingly stiff neck to add to his pounding headache. He blew out a rather loud sigh and finally said, "Bloody nuisance—give it here, Carter."

Carter handed the envelope to him.

Even with his head pounding, he could recognize the bold and precise lettering of his father's writing. John turned the envelope over and broke the seal. He pulled out the single sheet of parchment and read the brief message.

 John,    

Your mother was in a carriage accident. Come home, please.        —Ashbourne

Watson, now notified of the commotion, reached the door in time to watch the color drain from his young employer's face.

"Is something amiss, my lord?"

John pushed his sheets aside and jumped off the bed. "Carter, have my horse ready, quickly. I need a change of clothes and food to ride to Cedar Lane." As he ran into the washroom, he called back "Watson, have the courier start heading back, let my father know that I am on my way. If Robert comes by, let him know that my mother had an accident, and I am headed to Cedar Lane."

"Yes, your lordship. On behalf of the staff and myself, please know that our prayers are for her quick recovery."

John finished tying his cravat. "Thank you Watson. Carter, is the valise ready?" He thought of the desperate sounding note in his father's letter, and knew that the accident must have been bad. He made a last stop at the study to grab some bank notes.

Watson had just closed the front door when he remembered the note Robert had left.

***

The hardworking citizens of London were just starting their day. The rays of the sun were burning off the fog left behind, and the streets had a lingering scent from the rain that had earlier washed its sidewalks.

John pressed his stallion to a gallop as soon as he reached the city limits, past occasional farmers or travelers on the road, who were on their way to London to sell their goods. He had hoped to make the trip in one day, but his horse had thrown a shoe before dusk, forcing him to stop to repair it. By the time he was ready to head out again, it was too dark to ride safely. John could see the outer structure of an inn in the distance. He had to stop there for the night and try to make it to Cedar Lane on the morrow.