said Peregrine for what had to be the hundredth time. “I didn’t.” I suppressed my own impatience as I peered through the ragged opening in the bushes, where I crouched with a crick in my back and my legs numb below the knee. The star-spattered sky displayed a sickle moon. A breeze rustled the woods behind us, where we’d tethered and muzzled the horses. “She left her manor sometime yesterday. Seeing as she didn’t head to London, as she’d have been arrested by now, we can only hope she took this road. But she could be anywhere.” At my side, smothered in a heavy blue wool cloak that matched the one he’d brought me, Peregrine scowled. “Bite off my head. I was only asking. If I’d known you’d be such a grouse, I’d have gone to Hatfield with Mistress Stafford and Urian.” I forced out a chuckle. “Sorry. Camping in a trench at the side of a road isn’t my idea of fun, either.
