9:05 a.m., November 21, 1797 | In front of Blacktide Manor
Marcus had just turned to leave, already scanning the street for the nearest stagecoach office that might have decent carriages and strong horses, when a familiar voice stopped him cold.
"Hold on…"
Both Morven and Marcus turned at the same time. William was walking toward them, hands in the pockets of his long riding coat.
Morven exhaled, half surprised, half resigned.
"What are you doing here, William…?"
William's gaze drifted over the silent manor, lingered on the gates for a moment, then returned to Morven.
"Where exactly are you headed that you're telling Marcus to go rent a carriage?"
Morven took a slow breath.
"Scotland."
William's brown eyes flicked to Morven, then to Marcus.
Marcus immediately shook his head frantically.
"Don't look at me with those creepy brown eyes! Anyone else is fine, but yours scare me!"
William sighed and turned back to Morven.
"Fine. I'll get you proper horses."
Morven allowed himself the smallest of smiles.
"Marcus is coming with me."
Marcus opened his mouth to protest, but William cut him off.
"Understood. I'll prepare two good horses."
Morven fixed him with a steady stare.
"Without a carriage? I'm practically nobility, you know."
William's expression didn't waver.
"On the road from London to the North—better yet, from London to Scotland—you'll meet highwaymen and wild animals alike. A carriage without armed outriders is a death trap. And changing horseshoes or entire teams along the way wastes hours."
Morven stared at the ground for several seconds, fingers pressed to his forehead. Finally he lowered his hand and met William's eyes again.
"Even horses get tired eventually."
William gave a short, knowing smirk.
"At the end of every night, in every town along the Great North Road, a fresh horse will be waiting for each of you at the northern gate. My people will see to it."
Morven exhaled.
"Fine… When and where do Marcus and I start?"
William blinked once, calmly.
"This afternoon, 3:00 sharp, at the London exit toward Hertfordshire. I'll bring the two horses myself, along with a couple of men."
Morven placed a hand under his chin in mock thought.
"Just one thing… How will your people in every town know exactly when we're arriving?"
William clasped both hands behind his back.
"I'll send a rider ahead of you—long before you leave. He'll inform everyone else."
Morven's lips curved into a genuine, quiet smile.
"Thank you, William."
William gave a slight, respectful bow, straightened, turned on his heel, and walked away with quick, purposeful strides.
Morven faced Marcus.
"We're going home. Looks like we have a very long journey ahead of us this evening."
Marcus let out a dramatic groan, then suddenly looked up in panic.
"Master! Who's going to deliver the finished pocket watches? You closed the shop for a few days, but the nobles and customers will start showing up soon!"
Morven smiled easily.
"I'll leave that to Edward. I'm sure he can handle it."
Marcus sighed again, this time in relief mixed with complaint.
"You really planned everything just so I wouldn't stay behind in London, didn't you…?"
Morven placed a hand on Marcus's shoulder.
"We'll tell Edward before we leave. But for now—home."
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One hour later | Morven's house
Morven sat alone at the desk in his study, staring at the large map of London spread out in front of him. He exhaled softly and muttered to himself:
"Right now I truly have no leads… I'd assumed Father killed the Chancellor's son because he was the man's closest advisor, but now… anything is possible except that idiotic theory."
His gaze drifted to the stack of documents in the upper-left corner of the desk—reports on troop numbers, household staff lists, and the full history of the Chancellor of the Exchequer. He sighed again.
"Marcus brought me these papers on the night of the 18th… I still haven't read them. I'll do it when I return."
He rose slowly, pushed the chair back, and walked to the window. He looked down at the quiet cobblestone street below and murmured,
"Marcus needs to hurry back, or we won't make it on time… I hope he doesn't linger too long with Edward."
A faint smile touched his lips. Morven closed his eyes for a moment, letting the silence settle around him.