“That’s a very good idea, My Lord,” Latham said with a grin. “Keep them off balance. Remain unpredictable.”
Archie nodded, and took a drink from his whiskey tumbler. “Very well. I will ride out to Barrett Hill’s circus tomorrow. Inform him I have three thugs in my cellar and let him know that will happen to him if he continues this nonsense. If I can get rid of him, then we have only this buyer fellow to contend with.”
“And if he doesn’t move on?” Latham asked. “What then?”
Archie grinned. “Then I will start throwing my considerable weight around Northumberland and make Hill wish he had never stopped here.”
Chapter 26
Returning to his idle circus with its performers and workers sitting idly by playing cards or gossiping, Barrett congratulated himself on having outwitted the bullies and their fists by staying at the inn in the village. His happy attitude dissipated like fog in the sunshine when he found Mortimer smirking in his private tent.
“Who gave you permission to be in here?” Barrett demanded. “Get out.”
“Did you enjoy your little sojourn in the village?” Mortimer asked. “Pay money for what you could have had here for nothing?”
Barrett flounced into a chair, wincing at the soreness in his back. “At least I was safe.”
“You would have been safe here.”
Scowling, Barrett asked, “What do you mean?”
“Oh, the buyer’s boys never showed up here, to look for either Cornelia or you.” Mortimer wandered around Barrett’s tent, looking at his possessions as though he had never seen them before. “Makes one wonder what they’re up to.”
Barrett rubbed his chin. “That’s odd. They would never disobey that man. He is just too –”
“Too what?”
“Frightening. He would kill them for sneezing near him.”
“Maybe he did,” Mortimer suggested, finally taking a chair and sitting. “If they disappointed him, and they’re dead, why just think of what he’ll do to you? I find this all so utterly fascinating.”
“You little maggot,” Barrett snarled. “If he kills me, then he’ll kill you just for being ugly.”
Mortimer extended his hand, palm out, inspecting his fingernails. “Except I am an expert at ingratiating myself to men like him. If I make myself very useful, as in finding Cornelia for him, why he might just reward me. Handsomely reward me.”
Barrett shot to his feet. “If you betray me, imp, I swear I’ll –”
Felix tore his way into the tent. “Horsemen, boss. Coming this way.”
“What? Who in the devil are they?”
“Looks like Rochester to me, boss.”
Felix ducked back out, leaving Barrett to sweat, shivering. “Rochester. I’m not on his lands. There’s nothing he can do to me.”
“Oh?” Mortimer eyed him sourly. “Are you truly that naïve, Barrett? A man like Rochester can move mountains simply by raising his voice. You don’t think he has pals all over Northern England that can make your life miserable? Tsk. And here I thought you were smart.”
“Saints preserve me,” Barrett muttered, wiping his wet face with his kerchief. “Maybe he can be reasoned with.”
“This I would like to see.”
Barrett hurried from his residence as the sound of hoofbeats rolled amidst the tents. His workers and performers stood in rows to either side of the narrow lane between the pavilions, watching the band of riders trot past them. The bear roared from its chain as the horsemen rode just out of its reach. One by one, the riders lined up in front of Barrett, nearly a dozen of them, all armed from what he could see.
Barrett sweated, and wished he had stayed at the inn a while longer. Not certain what was worse – facing the fists or the angry Earl in front of him – he also wholeheartedly wished he had never sold Cornelia. He had even begun to regret ever laying eyes on her.
“Mister Hill,” Rochester snapped. “Have you forgotten your manners?”
“Oh.” Barrett bowed from his waist, and discovered Mortimer just behind him, also bending into an oily, smirking attempt at deference. “My apologies, My Lord. It was the surprise at seeing you.”
With an athletic ease Barrett had never possessed, even as a young man, Rochester dismounted his horse. Tossing his reins to one of his hard-faced companions, he strode toward Barrett. If a bleak thundercloud had a face, it might come close to resembling the expression on His Lordship’s countenance.
“I have come to demand you give up this useless pursuit of Miss Cornelia Hill and to move this ridiculous show to somewhere in Scotland.”
“My Lord.” Barrett tried an ingratiating smile. “I am not on your lands. I departed them at your command, remember? As for Miss Cornelia, why I love her as my own daughter, sir, and merely wish to have her back in my company.”
“Two thousand quid.”
Barrett blinked. “What?”
“Is that the price of your love, Hill? That is the amount you were paid for her, is it not?”
“Well, My Lord, the truth is, a man of my acquaintance wished only to examine her, her condition, for a time. She was to return to me after, of course, as she is my own dear daughter. I could never, ever, sell her as such.”
Rochester stepped closer, taller than Barrett by more than a hand, his brown eyes blazing fire. Barrett stared into those eyes, fear dropping like lead into his stomach. “You sold her, you maggot, and made the mistake of informing her of what you had done, so she ran away. Now you’re desperate to find her before her new master kills you, is that not closer to the truth?”
“Well, My Lord, I have heard he is a bit, well, annoyed, with me. But hardly murderous.”
“Annoyed.” Rochester nodded thoughtfully. “I will tell you how annoyed he will be when you inform him of some rather dreadful news.”
“I inform him, My Lord?”
“Yes. I trust you will tell him that I have captured all three of his henchmen, and I will be turning them over to the authorities. They will face imprisonment, and I have little doubt that when they realize just what their punishment for crimes against a peer of the realm truly is, they will begin to sing like canaries. They will name the man who hired them to kill me, and abduct Miss Hill. Both crimes that will receive the death penalty, even by themselves.”
Rochester loomed over him. “Death by hanging, Mr. Hill. The same punishment you will receive.”
Gasping and choking, Barrett strangled on his tongue. “Me? Why I have done nothing wrong, My Lord. I have committed no crime.”
“Selling a fellow human being is a crime against the crown, Hill. You sold Miss Cornelia with no more regard than you would sell that bear over there.”
Rochester curled his upper lip. “Now this is what you are going to do, so listen carefully. I despise repeating myself. You will inform the man who paid you for Miss Cornelia that I have his men and they will be turned over to the courts for trial. They will talk. You will also inform him that I challenge him to face me like a man. No more hiding behind a fat freak and a trio of thugs. You got it?”
“Y – yes, My Lord.”
“Good. After you have issued my challenge, you will pack up this miserable excuse of a show and get across the border into Scotland.”
“But I am not on your property. You cannot order me where to go.”
Rochester smiled. Barrett shivered when he saw it, and knew he had just made a terrible mistake. “Do you want every constable in Northumberland crawling through this mess, Hill?” Rochester asked softly, his eyes as hard as brown diamonds. “Inspecting everything from how you care for your animals to how much you pay your people? How about losing the chance to ever hold your show anywhere in England, Scotland, Wales or even Ireland? Are you still certain you wish to stand there and argue with me? Believe me, I have enough friends and connections in this kingdom of ours to put you in gaol for life.”
Barrett stumbled backward from him and almost fell. “N – no, My Lord. This show is all I have. I beg you
, I’ll be a pauper. Don’t take my show from me.”
Rochester bared his teeth in a dreadful grimace. He pointed to something, or someone, behind Barrett. “And if I hear a single rumor about those two apes anywhere near my lands, they will be killed. No questions asked. Shot on sight, even if I have to run them down with my hounds.”
He leaned forward toward Barrett. “And then I will come to kill you myself.”
“They – they will not come anywhere near you, My Lord, I swear it. They will obey me.”
“See they do not slip their leashes, Hill.” Rochester turned toward his horse, then swung back, his dark eyes glittering. “Remember, your life hangs in the balance. They step across my boundaries, they die. You die.”
Mounting his horse, Rochester gave him one last look, then led his band of riders out of the circus at a gallop. Barrett’s people watched them go, alternating between sending contemptuous glances toward Barrett and muttering amongst themselves. His knees suddenly weakened, Barrett staggered toward a chair and sank into it with a low moan.
“Well, you certainly told him off,” Mortimer said cheerfully. “I knew you would. What a man you are, a perfect specimen of courage and bravado, standing up to the evil landlord.”
Feeling sick to his stomach, sweating freely, Barrett couldn’t even tell Mortimer to shut up. It was Felix who stepped forward and shoved the hunchback hard enough that he reeled and fell into the dirt. “Let him alone, imp,” Felix snarled.
Barrett watched with little enthusiasm as Mortimer scrambled to his feet, cursing Felix roundly. “How dare you touch me, you stupid ape. Try again and I’ll see your guts.”
Mortimer whipped out a knife from under his black cloak, glaring at Felix. Felix stepped forward, menacing, clearly unafraid of the dagger. Barrett raised a lax hand, breathing raggedly. “Stop, both of you. Mortimer, put it back. Felix, leave him alone. We have enough to be concerned about without fighting amongst ourselves.”
Reluctantly, Felix stepped back to Maurice’s side as Mortimer, scowling, sheathed his blade. “What are you going to do?” Mortimer snapped. “Obviously, being a man is not in your physical make up.”
“I have no choice.” Barrett stared into the wall of the tent beyond the narrow lane. “I must tell the buyer what Rochester told me to tell him. Then hope to hell I don’t get caught in the crossfire.”
* * *
Archie chuckled as he rode back toward the estate. “Did you see his face, Latham? Knocked his legs right out from under him.”
“That you did, right enough,” Latham answered with no laugh or smile. “While you were cowing Hill, I was watching his thugs. They were none too pleased with your threats, and just might challenge you.”
Eyeing him sidelong, Archie asked, “You mean, they might act on their own? They might come after me simply because I threatened to kill them?”
“Yes. Exactly that.”
“Let them come, by God,” Archie growled. “They’ll learn I’m not some pampered fool with a title.”
“They may underestimate you, yes. They also might not. They may pull something you never even thought of.”
“I refuse to be threatened by two criminals, Latham,” Archie snapped. “They come around, they’re dead. That’s it.”
Latham grinned. “Oh, I know. I am just apprising you of what I saw. They won’t get within a hundred yards of your boundaries without my knowing.”
“Plan to steal all my grooms and footmen for the task?” Archie asked, his tone caustic.
“No. Just raid your coffers to pay the men I need.”
Now Archie reined in, forcing everyone in his train to also halt, trampling the dirt into a cloud of dust. He stared at Latham. “Just what do you mean? What men?”
“Just know this, My Lord,” Latham replied. “What you don’t know, you can’t forbid. Give me a little leeway here, and some coin, preferably gold. I will protect your lands, I swear it.”
Archie sat in his saddle, shaking his head. “You can’t do anything illegal, Latham.”
Latham scowled, affronted. “I would never do anything against the law. Hiring – certain gentlemen – is hardly illegal. You simply may not approve of them if you knew.”
“Mercenaries.”
“You said it. I did not.”
Archie laughed. “I did, you rogue. Damn it, yes, you can have your gold. Just make sure Mrs. Cates doesn’t find out. She’ll skin us both and your mercenaries besides.”
Nudging his horse into a walk, Latham grinned. “I doubt she will disapprove, you know. She adores you and Miss Hill. She will do anything to protect you both.”
“She has become quite the battle axe when it comes to Miss Hill, hasn’t she?” Archie asked, catching up. “I never thought of her behaving so. She has always been so – proper – in her place.”
“You gave her something to fight for,” Latham said. “It’s what we all need, right?”
“Did I? That’s not what I intended when I took Miss Hill in, that’s for certain.”
“It happened when you fell in love with her.”
Archie glanced at Latham, startled. “Am I that transparent?”
“Yes, indeed,” Latham answered, laughing. “You both are. And we are right glad of it, My Lord. Everyone is hoping for your marriage and an heir.”
“Far easier to serve an heir of my body as opposed to a distant cousin whose name I don’t even know.” Archie sighed. “Or one the Prince Regent might name in the event of my passing.”
“It’s not just that,” Latham explained. “It’s you, My Lord. It’s you we’re loyal to, not just a title. Not a one of us isn’t loyal to you, more than we ever could be to your brother.”
Archie gaped, his heart pounding in his chest. “Why?”
“Because you’re you.”
For the rest of the ride home, Archie got no more information out of Latham as to what he meant. Rather than persist and be defeated, he gave up trying and cantered into the stable yard with his train behind him. “When will you recruit these gentlemen of yours?” Archie asked as he dismounted, a groom holding his horse’s bridle.
“With your permission, this very day. We must not waste any time in protecting your lands. Those fools might try anything and soon.”
“Then come with me.”
As Latham ordered his horse to not be unsaddled, but rather walked to cool off, Archie led him into the house. Striding quickly to his study, he ordered Latham to close the door. Kneeling behind his oak desk, he pulled out a small wooden casket. “The remains of my father’s more active life,” Archie explained, opening the lid.
He filled a leather bag and tossed it to Latham. “That enough?”
Latham hefted it. “More than. What I do not use I will bring back.”
Archie gestured toward it. “That is to protect my lands, my people and Miss Hill. Pay your gentlemen generously for their service.”
Latham bowed. “I will, My Lord.”
“God speed, then.”
Sitting down in his chair as Latham left the study, he stared at the casket filled with gold coins and precious gems before finally closing the lid and placing it back where it belonged. He drummed his fingers on the oak desk, thinking about the potential fruits this morning’s labor might produce when a knock came at his study door.
“Come,” he called.
Noah Sanders opened it and stood stiffly at attention. “There is a man to see you, My Lord.”
“Who is it?”
“Charles Mowbray, My Lord.”
Chapter 27
Unwrapping the bandage from Mr. Saxon’s thigh, Cornelia examined his wound closely. Though the flesh around it had swelled, it did not appear to be infected and was well on its way to becoming fully healed. “You must begin walking soon, Mr. Saxon,” she said. “In fact, I advise you to start immediately. Lying about too long will stiffen the muscles into place, and you may never have full use of them again.”
“I agree. I have seen such happen before.�
��
Cornelia stood, packing her wraps and herbs into a leather satchel that had become her medical kit. “If you would like, I will send in someone to assist you with washing and dressing into fresh clothes.”
“You are most kind.”
With Mr. Hamden and Nancy, her current chaperone, in tow, Cornelia headed for the library to continue her studies. Stopping a passing footman to ask him to assist Mr. Saxon, she had no sooner sat at her desk and opened a book when a quick knock at the door came and was followed by a footman in livery. She recognized Benjamin Anders.
The Beauty and the Earl: A Historical Regency Romance Novel Page 24
