“Caught in the button loop on your coat.”
“Oh.” She blushed even more. “That is somewhat humiliating.” She held out her hand. “I am the Honorable Primrose Anabelle Matilda Dunmore Wootten of Willow Hill.” She grimaced. “Long name, I know. Had to honor the paternal aunties.”
“Ah.” Bened nodded. “Understood. ’Tis why I was saddled with a second name as well—Madawg.”
“Ma-what?”
“Mah-dawg. My maternal uncle’s name. My brothers were given it as well.”
“How many brothers do you have?”
“Six. I think my parents hoped the man would feel honored enough to will his cottage and land to one of us but, five years ago, even though the man was fifty, he had the bad manners to wed a much younger lass and now has three sons of his own.”
“Oh.” Primrose saw him grin and had to smile. “How very rude of him. Well, a pleasure to meet and speak with you, Sir Bened, but I must be on my way. As soon as I can find my horse,” she added in a soft mutter.
“That horse over there?” Bened pointed toward the dappled gray and almost laughed at the way she blushed and scowled in the direction of the animal, then muttered a few curses he pretended not to hear.
“More humiliation,” she grumbled as she walked toward her horse.
By the time she reached her horse, intensely aware of the big man walking by her side, Primrose began to try to think of the best way to leave. This man had been very helpful so she did not wish to offend him in any way. Since he made no move to leave, she then began to worry that she may have stumbled into some more trouble. There had been a lot of it on her journey, much more than she would have considered normal and it had begun to rouse her suspicions. Yet, even as she thought that, she could muster no fear, felt no threat from him at all.
He was a big man, something that did stir a trickle of alarm, but it was easily shrugged aside since it was the only thing about him that did. He was quiet, even moved quietly, and being near him calmed her. His features were somewhat harsh, but he was handsome despite that. His silvery blue eyes encircled by thick black lashes were spellbinding. Primrose noted that his clothing was not the height of fashion but it was well made, the cloth of very good quality, and the fit well tailored. Those eyes and that deep, smooth voice with the faintly musical lilt of Wales in it were his best features, she decided. Neither, however, explained why she was drawn to him, comfortable around him, and intrigued by him. She decided that was a puzzle best saved for solving later.
“May I have my pistol back?” she asked, silently cursing her own stupidity for letting him get hold of it.
Bened studied the pistol he still held and then looked at her. “Why? And exactly why are you riding about the forest all alone?”
“I am in search of my brother. He needs to know that our father has died.” She stuck out her hand, sighed with relief when he placed the pistol in it, and carefully put it back into her coat pocket.
“You could not just send a message to him?”
“I did but never got a reply. He loved Papa and would never have missed his funeral. Yet, he did and that was when I decided to go after him. He was not where he said he would be, so I suspect he does not know about our father’s death yet. His friends said he had abruptly left their house with no true explanation why and that they have heard nothing from him since then.”
“How do you know where to look for him then?”
“Simeon is the sort of man people notice.” She frowned when he shook his head. “What?”
“That is a poor way to track a person down.”
“It has been working well enough thus far.”
“But it will fail if your brother takes even one short route where no one sees him.”
“Then I will need to find the trail left by his horse.”
“You know how to look for that?”
“I do and Simeon’s horse leaves a very distinct trail.”
“Distinct in what way? An odd gait?” Bened could see that she was reluctant to tell him and wondered why.
“Simeon can be whimsical and he had his horse shod with shoes that have stars on them. So his trail shows stars in it.” She nodded at his look of astonishment. “I know. I told him it was such things as that which made people think him a lack-witted dandy. He knows that and finds it amusing. Papa was much the same.”