Peregrine's Prize Read Free Page B

anything untoward should happen, but…"
    Dyson Paget nodded. "Aye, but. I'll drop back a
while and we'll meet up at The Drovers for food? Then onto The Pike? I have two
rooms made ready for us to spend the night there. We'll get to Nash's mid
afternoon tomorrow then."
    "Good idea."
    Dye served on the continent before he moved to the
secret side of Peregrine's work and became not only his—to all intents and
other people's purposes—groom.   Perry
preferred to call Dye his other set of senses. Dye, younger son of a noble
family, hated his father and stepmother, and embraced Peregrine and his ideals
as any honorable man would. On more than one occasion he proved invaluable in
ensuring Peregrine's safe welfare, and was probably the only person who knew
where Perry's affections lay. Perry thought for a moment.
      "I'll go
via the heath and check the cottage. It won't add but a mile or two, and I
haven't been out for a while." In many ways it was too painful to revisit
the place where he had been able to relax, and be with the one person
guaranteed to help him do just that. He considered his statement. "The itch
doesn't suggest I should not." It was strange how this aberration worked
but he and Dye trusted it implicitly.
    Now Dye wheeled his horse away, and went back on the
direction from where they started their journey. Perry ran over their journey
in his head. Dye could take a different route and not increase the length of
his journey by much. With one eye on the road, and the rest of his attention on
the surrounding countryside Peregrine cantered on. Any attack wasn't liable to
occur here, even though the heath could be dangerous. Peregrine knew too much
about the area to be taken in. His own cottage wasn't too far away. The one he
realized with a jolt, he had no opportunity to use for many a month. In fact
the last people to occupy it were Harold and Martin, before their stupidity made
it necessary to remove from the area and make their way northward.
    Even after he'd called in at Victory Cottage, and
checked all appeared well, if not a little dusty, the itch remained, annoying
him and keeping him on edge, but not showing anything imminent. It reassured
him how the intensity changed with the degree of danger. Perry had no idea if
this was normal, but was ever thankful for the way it seemed to work.
    For the next few hours until he turned into the yard
of a coaching inn in the pretty market town of St Albans, he kept half an eye
on the road and the rest of his mind on how and when he could plunge inside
Maggie and stay there.
    There was no sign of Dye and he wondered if maybe it
had been foolish to separate? For if an ambush had been forthcoming who knew if
they would have been close enough to watch each other's backs? Somehow he
thought they would have been, but....
However Dye wasn't likely to be far away, just unseen. Peregrine decided he'd
wait for Dye here, at The Drovers, break his fast, and decide what to do next.
    As the ostlers came out to attend to his horse, they
were followed by Bacon, the Innkeeper. Rotund, jolly, and not at all living up
to his nickname of Streak, he knew Peregrine from his frequent visits over the years,
and his propensity for using his eyes and ears to aid and abet his country.
    "My Lord Corby." He bowed. "It's good
to see you. I have a parlor waiting." He stared and Peregrine saw a
message in the expression.
    Perry held his hand out to shake that of the
Innkeeper and palmed the paper passed to him. "Good to see you as well,
Bacon. I'm famished. I hope Mrs. Bacon has some of her turkey and ham
pie." He walked inside the long whitewashed building and let the Innkeeper
follow him toward the parlor he usually bespoke. "Mr. Paget isn't far
behind me."
    "Mr. Paget is here," a weak voice said
from within the parlor. "Bowed, bloodied but not beaten. Well, not in the
battle sense of the word."

 
    Chapter
Two
     
    Margaret Whittering hummed under her breath as she
finished checking off the linens.