The next day Richard met with Mr. Chase again.

"I did not expect to see you so soon," Mr. Chase had said offering Richard a seat in his den.

"I have some disturbing news to impart. Will we be undisturbed here?" Richard asked looking over to the doors.

"Yes, Emmaline never interrupts when it comes to business," Mr. Chase assured.

Richard took a deep breath. "It has been a strange turn of events. It would seem that Marcus was hired at Bentley Manor after you let him go, but has since been moved on due to his instability."

Mr. Chase looked concerned. "He could be anywhere, then."

"Yes," Richard admitted. "I think it best you take your wife and go someplace safe for a while."

"I will not be driven from my home," Mr. Chase said rather adamantly, "besides you have no idea if it was Marcus who killed my Cecilia. I do not wish to disturb my wife further for no reason."

Richard stood up and began pacing. "Mr. Chase, was Cecilia strangled?"

Pain briefly flickered in the older man's eyes but was quickly smothered and replaced with anger. "I have paid handsomely for this information to be kept hidden! Who told you this? We did not even have the coffin open during the vigil. I kept professional watchers at her side to be certain the coffin would remain undisturbed. There were telltale bruises on Cecilia's neck from where her stockings had rubbed and squeezed the life from her body."

Richard felt ill thinking of the poor girl dying in such a way.

"It was Marcus."

Mr. Chase shuddered as a sudden chill ran down his spine.

"Marcus said my Cecilia was strangled?"

"Not just strangled but strangled with her own stockings. Sir, please! I beg of you, take your wife and flee this place just for a little while. I will continue the hunt for Marcus. I must for no one we love, or hold dear will be safe until this killer is captured and made to pay for his crime."

Mr. Chase just nodded in agreement.

"Once you have settled yourselves send me word. I promise to keep you apprised of the situation by post. Especially if we have apprehended him, so you know it is safe to return."

"Have you spoken with Barneby?" Mr. Chase asked.

"Yes, I am going to arrange another visit today. He is unaware of my true identity. I figured he would be more open if he thought me a common man. That is how I had learned that Marcus had gained employment in my household. Now, I can only hope he has heard from his son."

Before he took his leave. Mr. Chase had informed him they have another home in Chatsworth that he inherited. They would go there and wait to hear news from Richard on when it was safe to return. He gave Richard the address. Now it was back to Barneby Smith's shop.

"Back again so soon Mr. Kane," Barneby asked taking a break from his work to see what he could do for the young man.

"Well, you had done such a great job with Midnight's shoe, I was wondering if anything could be done with this saddle?"

Upon inspection, Barneby informed him it may take a day or two to fix. The main fastener was cracked which meant he would have to forge a brand new buckle and the stir-ups looked to be worn beyond repair as well.

"That will be fine," Richard said. "I passed by the Bentley place today. You were right, that place does look like a palace."

"Amazing what you can do if you have money, Cyril," Barneby said right before telling Richard he would be better off purchasing a whole new saddle.

"You may be right," Richard said, "but I received it on a loan and when I return to London my friend is going to want it back."

"You will never make it to London in this saddle," Barneby said alarmed. "I'm stunned you made it here in one piece."

Richard laughed at the man's assessment of his riding equipment. He had purposely taken one of the discarded saddles so he would have reason to see Barneby again. He thought himself lucky to have not fallen out of the saddle now knowing what shape it was in.

"So, any news from that lucky son of yours?"

Barneby smiled back at Richard practically beaming with pride. "No afraid not. If I were not so busy here, I would stop by to see him before he heads back to school."

"What school does he attend?" Richard asked as he strolled through Barneby's shop to take a look at his wares.

"You know something," Barneby said, "I am sure Marcus must have mentioned it to me at one time or another but I just can't seem to bring it to mind. He sure does have a ton of those books though. You may have seen them before. Filled with cases that have already been tried. Said he had to study them real close because solicitors always need to learn from past experiences."

Richard thought of Cyril's library of books on past cases and when discussing their theory how easily he found what he was looking for but where would Marcus acquire such access? They were not normally available for public use.

"He is a smart one that boy," Barneby said. "Lord knows who he takes after," he added with a low chuckle. "Certainly not his father."

His father, of course! Richard thought excitement coursing through his veins. His father had an interest in law and has an extensive collection of law books. Marcus could have easily gained access to them. No one ever went in that room, except occasionally the cleaning staff and perhaps Juliana when she thought no one was looking. If she could nab a book or two it would be quite possible for Marcus to have done the same. It may have even been where his stepmother had gotten her idea from in this whole sordid mess.

"You know, I believe it is somewhere in London," Barneby said trying to remember. London. Richard thanked the elderly gentleman for his time and said he would return in a few days for the saddle.

"Where are you going? You are not going to ride without a saddle, are you? I have a loner saddle you can use."

"You forget," Richard said before jumping on Midnight's back, "I am a military man we learn to adapt and improvise."

"It was good to be young," Barneby thought before returning to his work.

Richard was eager to check the library. It was taking him forever to find the collection of books. If Juliana were here she probably could have found them with her eyes closed. Juliana. Just the thought of her and their last meeting in this room caused his body to respond just as it had that day he kissed her after removing the pins from her hair. Her hold on his heart was so strong. She did not even have to be present to send his blood racing through his veins. He missed her so much.

After about an hour Richard found his search was not in vain, his hunch was correct. Several of his father's law books were missing from his collection. Unfortunately, that still did not bring him any closer to discovering Marcus' whereabouts.

Albert had brought in Lord Bentley's tea and set it down on the serving cart. Handing Richard the afternoon post he set to the task of preparing Richard's tea. Richard tossed the letters aside still trying to concentrate on the dilemma at hand. "Albert?"

"Yes, my Lord," Albert said handing Richard his cup.

"Do the servants often talk among each other about private matters?"

Albert thought the question odd but answered it without delay. "Most assuredly," he said. "We are like a family to one another. It is very little we do not know about one another's lives."

"When Marcus was here did he seem to talk to anyone in particular?" Richard asked hoping that maybe someone on his staff may know where he was holding out.

"I highly doubt that, sir. Marcus was not liked by the women staff and the men did not take kindly to the woman being tormented by him. Like I had mentioned we are like a family here and as such we protect one another. Marcus when he was not being brash shooting off his mouth about one thing or another mostly chose to keep to himself. I did learn that his father is the local farrier if that would be any help to you, sir."

"Thank you, Albert. You have been most helpful."

"If you wish I could inquire about him among the household staff?" Albert offered.

"That would be most appreciated. Thank you." Richard, however, did not hold much hope Albert's questioning would turn up anything useful. He must discover Marcus' whereabouts.

Richard felt exhausted from his efforts to try and track Marcus down. He wondered if his stepmother would know more. He would like to think her actions involved him only and the proceeding events were as a result but he was running out of leads. Barneby mentioned London to him. He would have to put the word out to Annabelle and Cyril, he needed them all to disappear until Marcus was found. It was too dangerous and he would take no chances.

He looked at the post and saw a letter from Annabelle. She and Cyril were worried they had no news from him. As he continued to read, Richard frowned, it would seem Juliana was fairing much worse from his silence. How selfish of him not to think of what his lack of communication would be doing to them all. He immediately wrote back, addressing the letter to Cyril as he knew the man was beyond practical and would remove everyone post haste.

He began to write a letter to Juliana as well. He felt the need to encourage her even though the information he has uncovered was far from encouraging. As he set his quill to paper another letter stained and worn grabbed his attention. The handwriting was frantic and almost illegible and the postmark was from this province. As he opened the envelope it contained a torn page from a book as he unfolded the page a smaller note fell to his desk.

The page was from a law book. It described in detail a case where a jealous man killed his wife and children believing her to be unfaithful and the children not to be his own. It went further to reveal this man killed eight other women believed to be in connection with his wife's lover. He killed himself when caught in the act of trying to murder a ninth woman who just barely survived.

Richard's blood ran cold as he read the details of their deaths. He knew who sent this to him and why. With a shaking hand, he unfolded the smaller note. He read the unsteady writing: The man had nine mistresses only one survived. You took from me all that I have ever cared about. I have nothing left to live for. Now I will take the one thing you care for most in this world. Let us see if she is the lucky one or one of the other eight.

"Juliana!" Richard yelled. Standing from the desk so quickly the chair had fallen backward. He raced to his room, hollering for Albert as he traveled down the hall to his bedroom. Marcus had a head start on him. He had to get to her first, Marcus must have headed to London, the postmark was from two days ago. He threw open his trunk and grabbed his pair of Sharpe pistols, making certain they were primed locked and loaded.

Albert came running into his bed-chamber. "What is...? What has happened?" he asked quite out of breath.

"I must reach London as soon as possible. I need you to send this letter to Cyril Kane."

"I will ready the coach," Albert said following Richard down the stairs. "No, Midnight will be quicker. A coach will slow me down. Time is of the essence."

Albert yelled instructions to the servants as he passed and by the time Richard reached the front door, with his cape over his shoulders, Midnight was saddled and waiting for him. He jumped into the saddle and rode off.

"Please Lord, let me reach her in time. She is my world, my life, my very soul. I cannot live without her. Please," Richard prayed all through the night.

After several hours of hard riding, Midnight was beginning to show signs of wear but he had to press on. With a single horse he could cover more ground, quicker then a carriage but it was a long distance. Richard refused to let up, pressing Midnight to his limits. The horse raced like the wind, but then without warning his front leg buckled and the horse went down in a heap, throwing Richard from the saddle.

He flew several feet before hitting the ground, he laid sprawled out on the dirt, his chest heaving, blood trickled down his temple from the rock his head struck upon impact. He struggled to stay conscious and as he was about to lose the battle, he heard a carriage approaching. It was dark, and he would not be seen. He lay in the middle of the road and struggled to sit up. He pulled out one of his pistols and shot it into the air. The noise was deafening in the silence, and in a close distance, he heard the whinnying of horses, and yelling and then the darkness consumed him.