An anomaly surfaced. “But you recognise him, sir, do you not?”
The rector laughed out. “Hardly, my dear Delia. He was but three years old when his mother took him out of England.”
“Out of England? To where, sir?”
“India. I had heard nothing of Giffard beyond his sojourn in that continent, until he visited me a matter of three weeks past, or thereabouts. I’ve lost track, I fear.”
“But you believe him?” Anxiety sat in the pit of Delia’s stomach as she waited for his reply. There was no doubt in her mind that Giff spoke the truth, though she had no means of knowing anything about him. Yet she trusted her instinct. As ridiculous as it was, as devoid of any sort of sense, she felt sheknew.
His uncle spoke at last. “I had my doubts.”
“But no longer? Because he’s being pursued?”
“My dear child, I wish I might satisfy you, but I cannot. If this wickedness indeed emanates from Piers, one is tempted to think it proof of Giffard’s identity. But the melancholy truth is that the mere possibility he is the rightful Earl of Baunton might be sufficient to turn a determined man from the path of right.”
Delia could not be satisfied. “Yes, but could it not be he is afraid Giff has proof? Or that he knows somehow Giff is the rightful earl?”
“Anything is possible. But if Giffard has proof, he has only to produce it. I gave him the direction of the family lawyer, but he is convinced the fellow will be in Piers’s pocket and refuses to consult him.”
“Is there no one who can speak for him? None who can verify his identity?” Delia began to feel desperate. It was monstrous that Giff should return from abroad to take up his inheritance and find it occupied.
The Reverend Gaunt’s silence was answer enough. There was no one. Then how was Giff to do? Half unknowing, she spoke her thoughts aloud.
“It’s no good him skulking and hiding. Those men are bound to get him sooner or later, and as he said, none will be the wiser. He ought to be out in public. Declare himself, even. Then, if anything happened to him, the authorities must take notice.” Conviction seized her, together with remembrance, and she turned to the rector. “Don’t you see, sir? He said something of the sort to me. Piers would not wish to have the justices suspect him of wrongdoing, which is why he has hired these men to hunt Giff down. But if he made his claim public, Piers could not touch him without suspicion falling upon him.”
She was gratified to receive a beaming look from her companion.
“My dear Delia, that is ingenious! Whether Giffard will agree is another matter. But it must serve him better at least to appear in public places and to make acquaintance with the gentry hereabouts.”
A trickle of hope seeped into Delia’s breast. “If it makes him safe, it must be worth it, even if he does not manage to prove who he is.” Doubt smote her and she could not keep silent. “But how would he support the life of a gentleman? Has he any money?”
A laugh escaped the reverend. “As I understand it, he does not want for means. He has not told me how, but I gather he has come with a respectable fortune.”
“Then he must stop playing at hide and seek and enter society. Pray tell him I said so.” Remembrance caused a tremor at her lip and a pricking in her eyes. “Tell him … tell him the flower girl insists upon it.”
She heard a murmur from the rector, possibly of assent. However, she was quite unable to speak for several minutes, concentrating on the necessity to keep her countenance.
She turned her hazy gaze onto the road and her surroundings came into focus. Heavens, were they on the Weymouth road already? Surely she recognised the pattern of the woodlands either side. They must be close to where the adventure had started.
Within minutes, her vague notion was confirmed when she caught sight of a redcoat in the periphery of her vision. Instinct cut in.
“Oh, stop, sir!”
As the phaeton slowed, she gazed this way and that, finding several flashes of red among the trees. Her mind leapt, her heart suddenly racing.
“Militia! Good heavens, do you suppose they are searching for me?”
The rector brought his pair to a standstill and looked both right and left, peering into the trees. “If they are indeed militia, it seems a safe assumption. Your people must have alerted them.”
Delia’s pulse was behaving in a most uncomfortable fashion, but she could not rest without knowing for sure.
One of the red-coated individuals shifted within full sight. Delia trumpeted her hands at her lips and called out. “Hi, you there! Hello!”
The militiaman turned. Delia waved, calling out again. He lifted a hand and came hurrying through the trees towards the phaeton.
“This is dreadful! Aunt Gertrude must be frantic, if indeed she is well enough to have sent for them.”
“It is comforting to know you were sought with such assiduity, my dear child.”