The Spare by Carolyn Jewel

'Twas a terrible thing, my Lord. Some say the Black Earl did it."
    "What do you think?"
    He shrugged. "No one from Far Caister could have done it, that's sure."
    "Does Miss Willow still teach you?"
    "We're on holiday while she's at Pennhyll. Did you really capture twenty pirate ships?"
    "Twenty at once?"
    "Aye, sir. And sail them all against the Spanish."
    "There were five. We sank one and lost another to fire. I got men on the others once we had them in hand and sailed to Tortuga where we settled a disagreement with a few Spaniards."
    "But they were pirate ships?"
    "They were."
    "I wish I'd been there to see it."
    "How often does Miss Willow hire a horse from you?"
    The boy lifted one shoulder, wary now, seeing danger before him, which piqued Sebastian's interest. Twilling was right. Mickey was a bright boy. "Once in a while."
    "Regularly?"
    "No, sir. Just sometimes."
    "Where does she go?"
    "I don't know, my Lord."
    "How long is she gone?"
    "She always comes back the same day." He clutched his hat by the rim, turning it in a circle.
    "When did she last hire a horse?"
    "T'other day."
    "When, exactly?"
    "Wednesday, my Lord."
    "And you've no idea what she does nor whom she visits?"
    "No, sir. It's her own business when she rides out, sir."
    "Indeed, that is so." Sebastian took a crown from his pocket and gave it to him. "Thank you. Good day to you, Master Twilling."
    "Miss Willow is a good teacher. She's kind. And a lady." The boy placed the coin on the table. "I'll never say otherwise."
    "Nevertheless, thank you for your candor." Miss Willow, it seemed, possessed a talent for inspiring strong emotion in men of all ages. "May I trouble you to fetch my valet for me? You'll find him downstairs, I believe." He pushed the coin toward the edge of the table. "For your trouble."
    Mickey bowed. "My Lord." He left the coin on the table.
    The innkeeper reappeared after his son left. Sebastian, with a contented sigh, for the ale was excellent, pushed his empty pint across the table. "I thank you, Mr. Twilling. You have a fine establishment."
    "Honored to serve you, my Lord."
    When McNaught appeared from the back of the tavern, Sebastian rose. Inside the carriage, with the curtains drawn, McNaught patted his belly and said, "A charming village."
    "What did you learn?"
    "Your brother was well-liked."
    "Mm."
    "They're in high awe of you. Fighting off pirates at every turn, making men tell all their secrets with nothing but one look from eyes like daggers."
    Sebastian snorted. "What of Miss Olivia Willow?"
    "She is much admired." McNaught ticked off his findings, listing little Sebastian had not himself learned or surmised.
    "Yes," he said when McNaught concluded with the story of Miss Willow's broken engagement. "The good vicar of Far Caister who could have married Miss Willow and did not." He frowned. "See that Mr. Verney and his wife are invited to Pennhyll this afternoon."
    "My Lord."
    With a sigh, he tried to ease his position, but there was no comfortable way to sit. "I cannot imagine Andrew giving up London for Far Caister." His ribs ached with a fierce heat. "Unless, of course, there was a woman involved."
    "You need rest, my Lord."
    "No, I don't."
    "I'll prepare a tonic as soon as we're home."
    "Splendid." But he didn't smile when he said it.
    Later that afternoon, Sebastian waved off another offer of bread and butter from Diana. The taste of McNaught's potion lingered. The vicar and his very young wife made an interesting pair. Mr. Verney must have been nearing forty, a bit round about the middle, his hair thinning. But he had a ready smile and intelligent eyes. Clearly, he held his wife in great affection. And why not, when Mrs. Verney was a pretty woman with blond ringlets and brown eyes who adored her husband? She was not, however, Miss Willow's equal in manner or deportment, that he must allow. Mrs. Verney lacked something when compared to Olivia Willow. Grace, he thought. Intelligence. Wit. Quality, and all that one meant by the