by Rebecca King
“We knew she was at more risk. Her father had informed us that she helped with the papers and knew as much as he did. So we pooled the few resources we didn’t have undercover and made our own arrangements to thwart Scraggan’s plans officially.”
Peter felt somewhat mollified as he understood that Hugo and his men really did have the ladies’ survival as one of their goals.
“We know she was set up when one of our men heard about her being arrested for murdering the mayor. It didn’t take much for us to make enough enquiries to surmise what had happened. We know she didn’t do anything, and Scraggan had set her up, along with the others in the group who were found nearby.”
“Who were they?” Jemima asked, thinking of the morose group of downtrodden men with whom she had shared the condemned cell.
“They had been working for Scraggan at some point, either collecting information or taking part in criminal activities.” At Jemima’s look of shock, Hugo sighed knowing he wouldn’t get away with only half an explanation.
“They had taken part in a few thefts that had resulted in people dying. Two of them had murdered associates of Scraggan several months back. We knew they were guilty but just couldn’t get to them. Apparently they had done something Scraggan wasn’t pleased about, and had been thrown out of the smuggling ring. They were sent to Derby, ostensibly to find you, but once there found themselves set up by Rogan, under Scraggan’s orders. Each one of the men you were arrested with was guilty of serious crimes, Jemima, and would have gone to the gallows anyway, which is why we made no attempt to save them.”
Although Jemima nodded slowly, she would never understand why anyone had to be put to death in such a gruesome fashion for any crimes they had committed.
“Rogan had quite a large amount of money with him, and was able to buy people to do a lot of the dirty work for him, gathering information etc., so the victim wouldn’t suspect he was close by. When you were in gaol, we couldn’t take the risk that Rogan had bought one of the gaolers to provide him with information about your activities.”
“He wanted confirmation she was in the condemned cell, and going to be hanged,” Peter added, shaking his head and reaching out to hold Jemima’s hand.
“So, although we knew Jemima wasn’t going to be hanged, we had to go through the motions, as it were. We couldn’t risk that anyone would tell Rogan it was all a lie. We do know that Scraggan is being informed that you were publicly hanged, and will consider he has won.”
Dominic frowned and sat forward in his chair, thinking over the events of the night carefully.
“So how did you know we were going to turn up?” He demanded, remembering Hugo’s watchful presence in the corner of Simpson’s office.
“We didn’t,” Hugo replied ruefully. “We had to think on our feet. As soon as Jemima was placed in the condemned cell, I brought Mr Simpson up to date about Scraggan and his threat to Jemima and her sister. He was fully aware that he would be in serious trouble if he allowed Jemima to be hanged. The court papers have been destroyed, and all entries into the records removed. There is no trace of Jemima having been tried and found guilty of anything now, I assure you,” Hugo added, hoping it would buy him some reward.
“On the morning of the executions, you were in the corridor beside me, waiting with me, and you never said a word,” Jemima accused, reluctantly allowing her memories of that dreadful morning to come forth. Gratefully, she clasped the hand Peter held out to her, accepting his reassuring presence beside her.
“We had to wait until the right moment,” Hugo replied, shuffling uncomfortably under the collective glare of the group. “As I have said, the men with you were all guilty of serious crimes that would have sent them to the gallows anyway. We couldn’t allow them to go free, and risk them returning to Scraggan because they had nowhere else to go.”
“You made me wait until last,” Jemima frowned, thinking of the way he made her go to the back of the group, thinking at the time that it was because she would draw the most attention.
“Because we had to wait until the men had been hanged. I had Jamie outside of the door under strict instructions not to let you out of the building. He had already spoken to the hangman who himself was under strict instructions not to hang any woman unless he was given a nod by Jamie.”
“But you hanged a woman,” Edward announced, thinking back to that gruesome morning with a shudder. “I watched her being dragged to the gallows.”
“That was another prisoner from Leicester gaol who had been tried and found guilty of murdering her four children. She was condemned, and due to be hanged the following week at Leicester. We just brought her execution forward.”
At Jemima’s look of horror, Hugo turned sympathetic eyes toward her. “I’m sorry, Jemima, I didn’t mean to upset you, but this woman had murdered children. Her husband and family had denounced all association to her. She really had nobody who was bothered when she was hanged, and there certainly wasn’t anyone prepared to attend the hanging to hang on her legs and ease her way.”
“She murdered children?” Jemima gasped, feeling her initial sympathy for the woman begin to wane.
At Hugo’s nod, she slowly shook her head, wondering at the cruelty of humanity.
“Then she deserved to die,” Peter muttered, pressing a kiss to the back of Jemima’s hand. Despite everything she had been through, she still had the capacity to feel compassion toward her fellow beings, and that touched him deeply. She truly was a remarkable woman.
“She was chosen because she was condemned but she also looked like Jemima,” Hugo added, thinking of the slightly smaller woman who replaced her.
“You gave me something to knock me out,” Jemima murmured, thinking of the strange smell moments before she blacked out.
Hugo nodded, a look of apology on his face. “We gave you ether to knock you out. Unfortunately, with only me in the corridor, you inhaled a bit too much, which is why you were out for so long, and so deeply. I was trying not to inhale the stuff myself, and left the wretched cloth out for too long. It worked on you, too well, but it also very nearly rendered me unconscious too!” he added, not minding in the least that everyone knew of his near disaster.
“As I have said, there were safety precautions in place to make sure you weren’t hanged. Another man was waiting in a side room, and was watching for you to slump to the floor. He dragged you into the side room, and out of sight, at the same time that Mr Simpson led the other woman, already wearing an executioner’s hood, out into the corridor. As instructed, the woman was handed to the hangman by Mr Simpson, and Jamie nodded his confirmation that the hangman could go ahead. It all went according to plan.”
“So how did you arrange the bodies to make sure that Jemima wasn’t quick-limed?” Edward asked, his own breakfast sitting heavily in his stomach at the macabre nature of the conversation. He was suddenly very glad Eliza wasn’t there to listen to it.
“Because we kept Jemima in the side room while the woman was hanged. Unlike the men, when the woman was dead, she was cut down and brought back into the gaol, ostensibly to keep her body away from prying eyes. She was left in the side room, while Jemima was taken outside.” He shot Edward a warning glare, cautioning him not to betray the fact that, for a short while, Jemima had had to lie beside the dead bodies of those who had been executed.
“It was a bit of a surprise when Edward wanted to take the body, but seemed a reasonable request and a quicker way of getting her out of there. I had to come here anyway,” he added, shooting a smile at Dominic.
“It does explain why you were several days late,” Dominic muttered, somewhat mollified that Hugo hadn’t been as useless as he had thought. “You have been busy.”
“Very,” Hugo replied, sitting back in his chair and relaxing for a moment. From the thoughtful frowns of the assembled group, they were still absorbing his explanation, but at least none of them appeared angry now.
For the time being at least, Hugo thought, shifting uncomfort
ably in his seat as he studied Jemima for several moments.
“Thank you,” Jemima murmured meeting his gaze head-on.
“Why are you thanking him?” Peter demanded, still battling with the grief that refused to leave him. “We’ve been through hell because of the subterfuge.”
“I know,” Jemima replied softly, thinking of Peter’s distraught display of denial as she left Mr Simpson’s office. “But, having been in that gaol, I know there was simply no other way they could ensure I survived. Scraggan would have watched, or at least had someone watching,” she paused as Hugo nodded slowly. “By letting Scraggan believe I was dead, I now have the advantage.”
Hugo nodded in silent agreement.
Peter paused, reluctant to let go of his anger entirely. He wanted someone to blame for the sheer hell he had been through. He wanted someone to punch, someone to shout at. He felt almost cheated at being expected to simply accept that the devastation had been necessary, and move on. A small part of him didn’t think he would ever accept what had happened.
Still smarting, Peter tried to find some positives in the situation.
“So now Jemima is free of the threat of Scraggan, and can get on with her life.” He didn’t require Hugo’s approval and wasn’t asking for his agreement.
Hugo slowly shook his head, and shot Jemima a look of regret.
“We still need to know who her contacts are in Padstow,” and he turned searching eyes on Jemima, watching as her chin firmed defiantly.
With a mental sigh, and Peter’s curse ringing in his ears, he knew that things were going to get ugly.
CHAPTER FOUR
“I’m not going to tell you that. You don’t need to know,” Jemima replied, unwilling to relent.
“I take it they are still gathering information for you?” He wasn’t surprised when Jemima merely nodded.
“Are they male or female?” he persisted, deliberately ignoring Peter’s objection.
“Why do you need to know?”
“Because I think it is a woman: in fact, I have it on good authority that one villager in particular has been a little too watchful.” Hugo’s voice hinted that he knew more than he was telling them.
Jemima outwardly kept her expression blank, and sat perfectly still as she continued to study Hugo, clearly determined not to tell him anything.
It was her rigid posture that told Hugo all he needed to know. She was trying a little bit too hard not to panic.
“She is as much at risk as you, Jemima,” Hugo added, flicking Peter a glance. “While you now have Peter to protect you, your very efficient and thorough informant doesn’t have anyone. Now that Scraggan can return all his attention to his smuggling operation, do you think he won’t notice someone watching just a little bit too closely. He will be intensely angry when he realises Rogan failed to capture and murder Eliza, and is now languishing in prison awaiting trial. He will be seeking vengeance, and will look to anyone and everything that poses a threat to him.”
Hugo’s voice was a silken menace, and he leaned forward in his chair, trying hard not to shake her for her sheer stubbornness. Inside he was hugely impressed with her bravery, and was a little envious of Peter. Clearly her strong will and determination had been a large part of the reason why Jemima had survived the past few months. He knew instinctively that Eliza had the same inner core of steel that had ensured her survival when faced with ruthless adversity. Obviously the Cavendish men were no idiots where women were concerned.
“For God’s sake, stop it!” Peter snapped, launching to his feet. “You are not going to scare her into telling you what you want. Neither Jemima or Eliza are in any danger while under our care.”
“No, but there is a woman who has been helping them, and us, undoubtedly with good intentions but, in doing so, has put herself in considerable danger. I don’t know about you, but I have no intention on bringing Jemima’s ordeal upon anyone else.”
Peter sighed and moved closer to the fire, resting one booted foot on the fender as he stared down into the flames. He didn’t like where this conversation was going, and wished Jemima was his wife so he had the authority to draw a halt to the conversation and demand she leave. But Jemima was still her own person and he had no authority to demand she go anywhere, whether they were married or not. Knowing Jemima, she would probably ignore him anyway. She had made no attempt to leave the room herself and, while she remained, so did he. But he still didn’t like it.
Once again he fought the urge to simply sweep her into his arms and carry her into the bedroom she now occupied, locking the door behind them to keep out the threat from the outside world.
“How do you know it is a woman?” Edward asked Hugo, studying Jemima closely.
“We have our ways,” Hugo replied mysteriously, unwilling to give details himself.
Jemima smiled, fully accepting his reluctance for what it was. The last time she had received word from her friend, her fear for her safety had been clear. Although she had continued to gather information, seemingly undetected, she had suspected that someone was watching her, and was becoming concerned for her safety. At the time, Jemima hadn’t been able to do anything to help.
“I know she is under threat from Scraggan, but is she well?” Jemima murmured, her steely gaze conveying her determination to help her friend.
“The last I heard, she was fine, but there are rumblings that someone local is poking their nose in. It is only a matter of time. She is all alone and clearly needs help, Jemima. You have to be the one to give it to her by helping me set plans in motion to ensure she survives Scraggan’s vengeance. Confirm her name to me and I can put men in place to protect her.”
“You cannot be expecting Jemima to become involved,” Peter snarled, whirling on his heel to stare in shock at Hugo. His gaze met and held Dominic’s briefly before he turned to Jemima, his stomach lurching at the look she was giving Hugo.
“Good God, Jemima, surely you cannot be considering helping him?”
“I don’t expect you to come to Padstow; I am on my way there next. I just need the name of your informant,” Hugo added, picking up the papers and waving them in the air. “These are fantastic; just what we need. But we also need any other information she has managed to collect since you last received word from her. Just tell me her name, and I will ensure her safety.” The promise in Hugo’s voice was clear, but did little to mollify Jemima, who remained silent.
“I need to think,” Jemima finally whispered, pushing out of her chair. She waved the men back down into their seats as they automatically stood.
She paused when Peter moved to follow her and held up a hand, cautioning him to stop. “I need time alone,” she murmured softly, a frown on her face. “I’ll just be next door.” She didn’t know which room it was, but needed to get away from Hugo’s scrutiny and Peter’s protectiveness for a moment, and decide what she was going to do.
She left the room quickly, and closed the door behind her in case Peter took it into his head to follow her. Once in the large hallway, she did as she had promised and moved to the room next door, in the opposite direction to the breakfast room she had been in earlier. Thankfully, it was empty, affording Jemima the time alone she needed to get her thoughts in order.
The room was just as lavishly furnished as the breakfast room and study. Large chairs were decoratively scattered around the huge room, which was lined from floor to ceiling with bookshelves. In fact, the more Jemima studied the room, the more she realised books were everywhere. There were piles of them haphazardly stacked on the desk nearest the large French doors, numerous piles stacked on the floor beneath the chairs, and even on the tables next to the hearth! Jemima wondered if the family were avid readers. If they were, they would certainly never run out of material to read.
Shaking her head she reluctantly turned her thoughts to Hugo’s revelations, and the decision she had to make.
Although the way in which Hugo and his men had saved her was still raw, she could understand why
they had needed to carry out the subterfuge. Almost. But, setting that aside, she was no nearer to ridding herself from Scraggan’s menace. She wondered if she ever would be free of the man, who always seemed to be one step ahead of everyone else.
Despite Hugo’s clear belief in the capabilities of his men, the Star Elite, Jemima had first-hand knowledge of just how devious and manipulative Scraggan could be. Just how he managed to get so many people to help him was beyond her; surely they all couldn’t be oblivious to the man’s evil character, could they? But if men didn’t join Scraggan voluntarily, they were conscripted.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of Eliza, who poked her head around the door, spotted Jemima sitting in one of the wing-backed chairs and came in, shutting the door behind her.
Jemima fought the urge to sigh. Although she loved her sister, and it was lovely to see her again, the timing of her arrival couldn’t be worse. It appeared that being alone in this house was practically impossible. Still, she couldn’t find the heart to ask Eliza to leave her alone for a few minutes.
“What are you doing in here?” Eliza fussed, studying the dark shadows beneath her sister’s eyes and the slight droop to her shoulders that hinted at her inner exhaustion. “You should be tucked up in bed,” she muttered, waving her sister to the door. “Come on, I’ll help you up.”
“Eliza,” Jemima said, raising her voice louder than she needed to, “I am not tired, and I don’t need to go to bed.” She said the words through gritted teeth to keep herself from screaming. She wasn’t a toddler, and didn’t need to take to her bed to recover from a fit of the vapours like some simpering miss.
Jemima wondered if Eliza realised just how much she had changed over the last few months, and somehow doubted it.
“Sit down for a minute, I need to ask you something.” She motioned Eliza to a seat, her face softening slightly at the hurt on Eliza’s face. “I know you are only trying to help, but I am fine. Really. I need your advice.”
