The Troublemaker by Rexanne Becnel

Author:Rexanne Becnel
Language: ron
Format: mobi
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 15

Mr. Hamilton threatened not to provide either the horses or the vehicle for such an outrageous

purpose.

“What’s to see in Dumfries?” the old fellow demanded to know. “If it’s ocean scenery you’re

wanting, farther south at Maryport’s the place, not Dumfries. And what’s wrong with the North Sea,

anyway?”

“I’ve seen the North Sea,” Sarah muttered, shooting Mrs. Hamilton a beseeching look.

Mrs. Hamilton struggled with conflicting emotions. Sarah did not want anyone else to know her true

reason for this sudden journey west. But the housekeeper was worried. Something was afoot between

Sarah and that man. Something beyond this battle over his claim to Olivia’s properties. That alone was

reason enough for her to forbid Sarah to go after him to Dumfries.

But perhaps there was a stronger reason to let her go. Sarah needed to be married. She was a

good-hearted girl, but she was impulsive and reckless and headed for trouble, if the past was any

indication. What if she got herself into a compromising situation with this American gent? Apparently she’

d already come close with some other fellow. Why James had prevented their marriage, she didn’t know.

Better Sarah wed than not.

But James wasn’t here now. And from the looks of things, Sarah was not about to take no for an

answer.

Mrs. Hamilton lowered herself into a chair. “Perhaps a jaunt to Dumfries would be good for you,

child.”

“Are you daft?” Mr. Hamilton interrupted. “She don’t need to go there.”

“Hush, old man. She’ll do just fine. I’ll send a maid with her, and an extra footman. What do you say

to that, Sarah, girl?”

“Yes. Thank you,” Sarah replied, smiling her gratitude. “Thank you.” She ran off to begin packing.

Mr. Hamilton trudged off, grumbling, but in reluctant agreement.

Mrs. Hamilton remained seated in her favorite kitchen chair, however, drumming her gnarled fingers

upon the scarred oak tabletop and thinking.

If Sarah was to be compromised, as it seemed she was destined to be, better that it happen here than

in London. Mr. MacDougal was not leaving for America just yet; somehow she was sure of it. Let him

compromise her—if he hadn’t already done so in the carriage last night. Once found out, they would be

forced to wed, and once wed, his threat to Olivia and Augusta would be considerably lessened.

Mrs. Hamilton smiled to herself, then bent down to rub her aching knee. Sarah could pursue one plan

to protect her family, while she would pursue another. Oh, but this was more excitement than she’d had

in many a day.

So it was that the next morning Sarah and an entourage of three rocked briskly down the highway,

heading west with a team of four horses. Sarah was taking no chances this time should one of the animals

go lame. From Kelso to Dumfries would normally have been a two-day journey. But Sarah felt

compelled to stop at every church whose spire showed on the horizon. This time she’d brought a small

chest of money with her, adequate to make a significant enough donation to ensure cooperation at every

church she approached.

The answer at each one was, thankfully, always the same. No entry in the parish records for a

Cameron Byrde, nor for a Maureen MacDougal.

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