Chapter 37

Chapter Thirty-Seven

H e couldn't wait to get home, to climb into bed and cuddle up with his wife. Robert was quietly hoping Victoria might still be awake, and they would come together and make love. Her touch was something he had become addicted to in the short time since they'd been wed.

It was close to midnight, and he was utterly exhausted. He'd had little sleep over the past two days, and the journey to Cambridge and back again had sapped the last of his reserves of energy. Robert drew comfort in the knowledge that taking a temporary step back from all the stealing, smuggling, and lying would give him the time to ponder his future. To hopefully seek and find the answers which still lay somewhere out of his reach.

The steady clip clop of the horses, combined with the soft jangle of the wagon chains, lulled Robert into a waking stupor. His grip on the reins was light; he trusted his horse to know the way home. They were close to the laneway, and soon they would turn off the main Saffron Walden road, and head toward Tolley Manor.

Soon he would be home.

A shrill whistle stirred Robert from his half slumber. Lifting his head, he caught sight of the lead wagon as it came to a halt. Both the driver and his assistant held up their left arms, fists clenched. A signal. The men in the second wagon followed suit.

Robert spurred his horse forward but kept his mount to a walk. If there was danger ahead, they had to move as quietly as possible.

Reaching the front wagon, he dismounted and made his way over to the driver. "What's happening?" he asked.

The man pointed in the direction of the nearby laneway. "There is a horse in the lane. And I think I just heard voices."

Holy hell.

He was about to ask another question when the sound of a wagon being moved reached his ears. Robert and the driver exchanged a nod. The other man had heard it too.

"Right, now remember our back-up plan. I want you to continue on this road, and circle back to Saffron Walden. When you reach the Cross Key Inn, put the horses and wagons in their stables. Take rooms for the night. I'll send word in the morning when it's safe to come back to Tolley Manor."

He motioned to the estate worker in the second wagon. "Stanley, head over the fields and make your way back to the manor. Rouse Mister Jasper and tell him that something is amiss in the laneway and for him to bring his rifle. Go quickly and quietly."

Robert reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a handful of coins, enough to cover any expenses, and handed them to the driver. "Take care when you pass the end of the laneway, and at the first sign of trouble, don't hesitate to shoot."

He would do his all to protect his men, but they also understood what would happen to them if the authorities came looking. A man facing a long prison sentence or transportation to the colonies didn't have time to think twice about firing his weapon. Stanley climbed down from the second wagon and bolted for the fields, heading across country toward the manor house.

Robert mounted his horse once more, then sat and waited until the wagons had disappeared over the hill, heading back toward the nearby town. He checked his pistol then took a long deep breath.

It might well be nothing. Instincts told him otherwise. No one had any sort of reason to be in the laneway at this hour. The two wagons which had just left were the only ones that belonged to Tolley Manor.

His horse moved forward, and Robert peered into the darkness. The moon which was hidden behind a cloud barely lighted the way ahead.

At the top of the lane, he steered his horse toward a nearby stonecutter's cottage, taking cover in the trees. He'd been sloppy tonight, any other time he would've had two armed men posted here as lookout. But over the past day, his thoughts had been elsewhere.

Robert dismounted, then after tethering the horse to a post, went ahead on foot. Voices reached his ears once more as he neared the bend in the laneway just shy of where the brick and stone bunker stood. Robert stopped and listened.

There was a man and—he craned his neck, trying to better hear. Yes, a woman. His brows furrowed. What the devil were they doing?

Please let this be a lover's tiff.

Rounding the turn, he came upon a scene which turned his blood to ice.

There in the middle of the road was a wagon, one he didn't recognize. It had been loaded up with all the empty East India spice barrels and crates. The ones he'd planned to burn tomorrow morning.

Had Jasper gone ahead and—no, he couldn't have. The only two wagons on the estate had gone to Cambridge with him.

So whose horse and wagon is that? And why have they taken all the barrels?

Heart racing, Robert stopped and cocked his pistol, wincing as the click echoed in the night. Damn.

A figure emerged from the shadows at the side of the lane and moved toward the wagon. In his hand he carried a lit lantern. It gave Robert his first real glimpse of the stranger. He was a tall, well-dressed man clad all in black. Robert took in the black cloth which covered his nose and mouth.

Whoever he was, if he'd come to rob the spice stores, he was a day too late. Robert took another tentative step forward then stopped. A second figure emerged from the dark, and in that moment, Robert's heart ceased beating in his chest.

Carrying an armful of the empty barrels was his wife.

"That's the last of them, now can I please leave? I have done all your dirty work for you," she said.

The stranger turned on his heel and pointed a pistol at her. Robert's stomach dropped at the sight.

"I think we will wait here until your husband returns. I have no beef with you, Your Grace, nor does my employer. But my instructions from the Honorable East India were clear. I am to take His Grace the Duke of Saffron Walden into custody and deliver him to London."

Robert swayed on his feet. Emotions and anger clashed with one another, leaving him feeling lightheaded. The agent for the East India Company had taken Victoria prisoner.

My wife.

"Well we could be in for a long night. I have no idea where my husband is, or if he intends to come back to the manor tonight."

The agent gruffly laughed. "Don't bother trying to play mind games with me. I know how His Grace works. I've been following him for several months now. The evidence we have against him will see him ruined."

Victoria wrapped her arms about herself and stamped her feet. She bent and picked up the lantern. "It's cold out here, so if it's all the same to you, I might just take my lantern and go back inside and stay out of the wind."

She turned to leave, but the agent grabbed a hold of her arm. He dragged her back to the wagon and shoved her hard against it. The lantern fell to the ground.

Victoria's cry of pain went straight to Robert's heart. The agent for the East India was going to pay dearly for having manhandled his wife.

This is all my fault. I brought this danger to our doorstep. I'm the one who put my wife in deadly peril.

My wife. The words sat heavy in his soul. Poor Victoria, she'd been forced into this marriage, and now she was being held at gunpoint. And it was all his damn fault.

He watched with rising fury as the agent leaned close to Victoria and ground himself against her. "You're a pretty little thing, Lady Victoria. I read your wedding notice in the Gazette . Has His Grace broken you in yet, or would you like a real man to do the deed?"

She reached out and grabbed at the mask, tearing it away. "I've seen your face now, so if you plan to do anything vile, I will be able to give the authorities a good description."

He slapped her hard across the face. "That was a stupid thing to do, Your Grace."

Robert sensed they had reached a point of no return. Victoria could identify the agent who held her captive. Who knew what the blackguard would now do in order to protect himself?

Robert moved forward, pistol raised. "Let go of her!" he bellowed.

It all happened so quickly. One minute she was in fear of this cad taking liberties with her body, the next the night had exploded in shouts and violence.

Robert's loud cry was enough to startle the agent for the East India and the man turned his head and looked in the direction from which the sound had come. A horrid grin spread across his face. "Ah, now we get to the good part," he said.

He pushed off from Victoria and took a step back. But instead of pointing his weapon at Robert, he aimed it at her. She stilled. This man was no fool, he knew full well that her husband wouldn't do anything rash while his wife had a pistol pointed at her head. The easiest way to get the Duke of Spice to cave would be to threaten his duchess.

Her hands dropped to her side. It was now or never. Victoria's fingers brushed against the pocket of her coat. Her hand slipped inside and took a hold of the loaded pistol.

Don't carry a weapon unless you are prepared to use it.

Robert moved forward another step, and the agent whirled round, and fired a shot at him. It hit him in the shoulder, and he immediately dropped his weapon. While the agent's attention remained focused on the injured Robert, Victoria withdrew the pistol and cocked it. He didn't see the pistol in her hand as she aimed it at him and fired.

His shoulder was aflame with searing agony. The shot had torn into his muscle. Robert's grip on his pistol slackened and it fell to the ground. The East India agent was serious, he wasn't leaving here without taking Robert as his prisoner.

Through the haze of his pain, he spied the small movement of Victoria's arm. His breath caught in his throat as she raised her pistol and shot the agent for the East India Company at point blank range. The bullet hit him in the head, and he dropped to the ground like a stone. The agent lay motionless, face down on the roadway, his black coat covering him in a makeshift shroud.

Victoria stepped away from the body but didn't look at Robert. Instead his wife's gaze fell, and she stared at the smoking pistol which remained in her hand. He waited, expecting her to break down; to collapse in tears.

But his duchess simply stared at the weapon.

And then her entire body began to tremble.