Page 8 of Greystone’s Legacy (To All The Earls I’ve Loved Before #5)

Sir James Pembroke proved to be a man of careful observation, his shrewd grey eyes taking in every detail of Freddie's appearance as they were shown into his private study.

The magistrate's bearing spoke of both authority and discretion, qualities that suddenly seemed far more crucial than Freddie had initially supposed.

"Please, be seated," Sir James gestured to the chairs before his desk. "Miss Wynstanley, I understand from my housekeeper that you have brought this gentleman to make inquiries regarding his identity?"

"Yes, Sir James." Hester's voice held its usual quiet composure. "Mr... Frederick here was injured a week ago near my home. He was unconscious for three days and has been recovering since, is only now fit enough to come here in person to make these inquiries."

The magistrate's expression sharpened with interest. "Indeed? And what circumstances brought you to our region, sir?"

Freddie opened his mouth to respond, but Sir James held up a hand. "Before you answer, I should inform you that we have had other inquiries about a gentleman matching your general description. A matter of some delicacy, you understand."

Something in the magistrate's tone made Freddie's spine stiffen. "What sort of inquiries?"

"A gentleman called here five days ago, claiming to be searching for a disturbed relative who had wandered away from his family's care." Sir James's gaze never wavered from Freddie's face. "Tall, fair-haired fellow like yourself. Rather elegantly dressed. Called himself Mr. Grey."

The name struck Freddie like a physical blow. His temples began to throb as fragments of memory crystallised into horrifying clarity. Sebastian . His cousin's face swam before his mind's eye, no longer the carefully cultivated mask of familial concern but twisted with murderous intent.

"Sir James." Freddie's voice emerged hoarse. "Did this Mr. Grey give his Christian name?"

"Sebastian, I believe." The magistrate glanced down at a leather-bound notebook. "Yes, Sebastian Grey. He left directions to contact him at the White Swan Inn in Leominster should anyone have information about his... troubled relative."

Freddie's hands clenched on the arms of his chair as the final barriers in his mind crumbled.

The nightmare that had plagued his recovery suddenly blazed into vivid reality: hoofbeats thundering through darkness, branches whipping past his face as he urged his horse through treacherous country, frantic to escape his pursuers.

The crack of gunfire, Sebastian's voice calling out with false concern: "Cousin! Stop this madness! Let us help you!"

Help him into an early grave, more like.

He remembered now: the desperate ride into the Welsh hills, finally losing his pursuers but then realising he was utterly lost himself.

Not only that, but he had nowhere safe to go.

Exhausted, he dropped his reins, letting his horse pick a path.

Finally, the world tilting sideways as the horse slipped on the rocky path and Freddie lost his seat. Then darkness.

"Mr. Frederick?" Hester's worried voice penetrated his remembrance. "You've gone quite pale."

Freddie forced himself to breathe slowly, though his heart still raced. "I apologise. The information has... triggered certain memories."

Sir James leaned forward, his expression grave. "Might I suggest, sir, that you share those memories? If there is some matter requiring the attention of the law..."

"No!" The word came out sharper than Freddie intended.

He moderated his tone with effort. "That is, I appreciate your concern, Sir James, but I believe I now understand the.

.. confusion regarding my identity. The gentleman you mentioned is indeed known to me, but I assure you, I am quite sound of mind. "

Hester's hand touched his arm briefly, a gesture of silent support that nearly undid his composure. How could he protect her if he revealed the true danger? Sebastian would think nothing of eliminating any witnesses to his attempted crime.

"You've remembered something more substantial regarding your identity, I take it?" Sir James' eyes were very sharp, and Freddie thought fast.

"Yes, sir." Freddie said slowly, trying to piece together some explanation the magistrate might accept without revealing the truth. "I feel I owe you a more complete explanation, though I must ask for your discretion in the matter."

"Naturally." Sir James steepled his fingers, waiting.

"My name is Frederick Ashworth," Freddie began, the false surname coming smoothly to his lips.

"I am a private tutor by profession, recently employed by a family in Herefordshire.

The gentleman who inquired after me, Mr. Grey, is indeed known to me, though not he has falsely represented me in his description. "

He paused, constructing each sentence with meticulous care.

"There was a... disagreement regarding certain documents in my employer's household.

Nothing of great consequence, but Mr. Grey seemed to think otherwise.

When he made threats of a personal nature, I thought it prudent to remove myself from the situation. "

"I see." Sir James's tone suggested he saw rather more than Freddie was telling. "And the injury to your head?"

"A genuine accident during my hasty departure." This much, at least, contained a grain of truth. "I have no wish to cause trouble for anyone, Sir James. I merely want to ensure that if Mr. Grey makes further inquiries, he receives information that will... discourage him from pursuing the matter."

The magistrate's shrewd eyes moved between Freddie and Hester. "Miss Wynstanley, are you are satisfied with this explanation?"

"I am satisfied that Mr... Ashworth has good reasons for his actions," Hester replied carefully. Something in her measured tone told Freddie she had perhaps discerned more of the truth than he had intended to reveal.

"Very well." Sir James made a brief notation in his ledger.

"Should Mr. Grey return, I shall inform him that no one matching his description of a disturbed relative has been seen in the area.

Though I would suggest, sir, that you might wish to seek employment somewhat further from Herefordshire in the future. "

"Thank you, Sir James. Your discretion is most appreciated." Freddie rose, anxious to conclude the interview before any inconsistencies in his hastily constructed story might become apparent, and to get out of town before Sir James happened to read his newspaper more thoroughly.

Outside, Freddie started walking quickly towards the market square, hoping Mr. Bethel had concluded his intended business of purchasing a new ram. The quicker they got out of Builth Wells, the better; fear for Hester's safety was a weight in his stomach.

"A tutor?" Hester's voice held a hint of amusement despite the gravity of their situation. "You invented that rather quickly."

"It seemed a reasonable occupation for someone of my... apparent education." Freddie tried to ignore the guilt gnawing at his conscience. Every instinct urged him to tell her everything, yet the memory of Sebastian's ruthlessness held him back. "I hope you can forgive the deception."

"I understand more than you might think." Hester's hand brushed his arm, the touch light but somehow anchoring. "Though I wish you felt able to trust me with the whole truth."

Freddie stopped walking, turning to face her fully. "My trust in you is absolute," he said quietly. "But please believe me that for your safety, I cannot... must not... tell you everything. At least not yet."

Something passed between them in that moment, an understanding deeper than words could express. Hester nodded slowly, accepting both his need for secrecy and his reasons for it. "We should find Mr. Bethel," she said at last. "The road home will be darker than this morning."

Home . The word caught at Freddie's heart, reminding him that Plas Wyn was not truly his refuge, merely a temporary shelter from the storm gathering around him.

Yet as they made their way through the thinning crowd, Hester's presence beside him felt more real, more right, than all the grand houses and noble titles he had left behind.

The lies he had told Sir James might protect them for now, but Freddie knew with growing certainty that he could not hide for long.

Sebastian would not stop searching, and sooner or later, the truth would emerge.

He only prayed that when it did, he would find the strength to protect not only himself but also the remarkable woman who had saved his life in more ways than one.