Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

P atience hated to admit it, but she was disappointed that all of the men had left her behind to go out and investigate. She still didn't quite understand why cavalry officers of the Household Guard were out doing this kind of work, but that was a question for later.

Sitting in the window seat of her chambers, looking out over the estate in the darkness, it was difficult to think of what she could do to help. Perhaps going into the village and trying to glean information at the shops might offer a little information, but not likely anything useful.

This was definitely a situation where it was best to be a man. The people they were looking for were most likely to be found in seedier places, and if, as a female, she went there, they would only expect that she was a less than virtuous lady.

If only they let her have a go at the prisoner. She had even tried going to the stables to try and had been promptly turned away.

The moon was high in the sky, but it offered her no solutions. She reached over to close the window as the night was growing cold when she heard the sound of a carriage coming up the drive. Who could that be? It was quite late. Had they found some new information? Patience was filled with excitement as the probability of just such a thing—a new clue—was dangled before her. She had to be in place to hear what had happened. Before waiting to see who it was, she made certain Xander was sleeping soundly, then she quietly rushed down the stairs and positioned herself to hear what she could behind the curtain in the study. There was a small ledge she was able to sit upon and hide herself as long as no one decided to open the window. She thought it more likely for them to open one of the doors overlooking the lawns.

It was not long before Major Stuart and Captain Fielding entered the house, then the study.

"I will just go fetch Westwood. Make yourself comfortable," Stuart said to Fielding.

Whatever it was, it was important enough to rouse Dominic. Her excitement grew. It was not long until she heard two sets of footsteps approaching. Dominic must have still been awake. The door to the study closed behind them. She heard them take their seats and pour drinks.

"I was not anticipating seeing either of you so soon. What news is there?"

"We were fortunate to find our gang at The Anchor. It was a while before they arrived, but it was as if they were rendezvousing to discuss their findings for the day," Stuart explained. "They were indeed signalling each other, and they are wondering why Devil hasn't signalled for the past two days. If they do not receive a signal tomorrow, then they intend to come looking for him tomorrow night."

"I see," Dominic replied in a tone Patience recognized as most displeased.

Silence reigned for what felt like ten minutes before Stuart spoke again.

"We plan to coerce Devil into signalling tomorrow. But of course, we cannot be certain they do not have a mayday signal that would send them all rushing right over."

"I cannot think they would anticipate the situation," Fielding said. "But of course, there are no guarantees."

"I cannot like having the ladies here," Dominic said. "Convincing Faith to leave will be another matter."

"I need to go and report our findings to the colonel, but perhaps if a deal could be made with Devil, then we might secure his cooperation."

"Transportation versus hanging?" Westwood asked.

"We can see how much he values his neck."

Patience found herself rubbing her own at the thought of a thick rope around it.

"Remember, there is no honour amongst thieves," Westwood remarked. "However, if he betrays us, I will shoot him dead on the spot."

"You will have to beat me to it," Stuart said.

"Go inform your commander," Westwood said. "It grows late."

"I believe I will go visit the prisoner," Fielding added. "We have limited time to gain his cooperation, and I intend to make the most of it."

"Baines is still there. He is of a mind with you." Dominic scoffed. "And to think the world sees all of you as window dressing."

"We prefer it that way, Brother," Stuart said, and Patience could hear an affectionate slap on the back. It made her wonder what else these men had done under the guise of secrecy. So they were some special secret unit! I knew it! Now she had to wait for them to leave. The last thing she needed was to be caught at this point.

Once she heard the front door close behind Stuart and Fielding, it was sometime before Westwood took himself back to bed. He was likely trying to decide what to do with all of the ladies in his life. Patience prayed that he did not force them to leave. This was too good to miss.

When she finally crawled into bed, Xander raised his head and then gave her an affectionate lick on her hand as she soothed him back to sleep. She was asleep herself almost as soon as her head hit the pillow.

Patience was awake early the next morning despite the late time she went to bed. Her mind was too full of the thrill of the chase. She dressed and took Xander down to the back lawns as had become their habit. Part of her was wondering if she would run into someone or if the men would be talking where she could hear. Had anything happened overnight? It galled her not to be able to even ask.

After playing with the puppy for a few minutes, she went inside to the breakfast room, hoping someone would be there, but it was empty. Likely, they were all trying to catch some sleep.

One of the footmen, James, came in. "Would you like any food, miss? His lordship sent word to delay a little."

"Do not bother Cook, but if some coffee could be prepared, that would be lovely."

"Yes, miss."

Coffee was a guilty pleasure for Patience. She knew it was frowned upon by most ladies, but she would enjoy it when she could.

That was how Major Stuart found her, eyes closed, savouring the bold, smoky scent. Purists might argue at the amount of cream and sugar she added, but it was heaven in a cup to Patience.

"I will have what she's having," Major Stuart's deeper than usual voice said, causing her eyes to pop open and her cheeks to flush with embarrassment.

"Do not stop on my account." He waved at her drink, though he was looking at her strangely.

"I enjoy coffee," she explained, feeling the need to defend herself. And, she'd thought herself alone.

Xander had gone over to him when he entered the room and he knelt down to pet the pup. "He has become your shadow."

Patience smiled. "I am surprised to see you here. Were you not supposed to be going somewhere else last night?"

"Indeed." He inclined his head. She could tell he was toying with what to say to her. He took a sip of the coffee James set before him. "It is very good."

"Why did you return last night?" she prompted with a wave of her hand.

"I suppose you know too much already. We found the rest of the gang at the local tavern, and overheard them discussing their missing member."

"Devil," she provided.

"Just so. They mentioned he had not signalled to them in two days and have decided to come looking for him if he does not signal today."

Patience gasped, trying to pretend she had not heard any of this before. "So what will you do?"

"Fielding and Baines were going to attempt to convince Devil to cooperate. I am headed to check their progress after I finish my coffee."

Patience took another sip of her own while trying to think how else she could be involved.

"I see your mind working, Patience. If I have my way, Dominic will send you to London until this is over."

She scowled at him.

"This is not a game."

"I never said it was."

"These men would slit your throat as soon as talk to you. If they did not violate you first."

"No need to be vile. I understand what criminals like him do to females like me."

"Good. I do not want to have to worry about your safety."

Joy burst into the room before Patience could deliver the stinging retort on her lips.

"Have you seen Freddy?" Joy asked as she came into the room looking harried. Xander ran to her and she petted him absently.

"The cat or the human?" Stuart teased.

"The cat, of course. He did not come to my room last night. He is always there when I wake!"

"Perhaps he found something to entertain him in the barn last night," Stuart suggested with a wag of his eyebrows, which caused Joy to look heavenward in exasperation.

"He has plenty of time for that during the day. I will go check the barn."

Patience would've thought that Xander might follow Joy, but he came directly back to her. Animals usually followed Joy like a magnet, and with Freddy absent, it was somewhat heart-warming that the dog had chosen her instead.

After fetching a basket full of warm—and most importantly fragrant—rolls from the kitchen along with a jug of ale, Ashley walked to the stables. More and more, Patience was on his mind and not in a good way. Being around her was too tempting.

He prayed that they could get what they needed from their prisoner and finish this assignment quickly, then hope she found some worthy fellow next Season. He shook his head to clear it. The thought of her with someone else bothered him at some very deep level, but it was hardly fair for him to not want any other man to have her when he could not have her himself. The fact that he was even thinking such thoughts was disturbing in the extreme.

As he entered the stables, Ashley nodded to the old retainers that had been there since his youth, as well as some of the younger grooms. He strode through the long row of stalls that held many of Westwood's and Carew's prized breeding stock. Many of the horses looked out to greet him and some looked out of curiosity as he passed, likely desirous of the food he carried.

"This is to tempt someone else altogether," he said, holding the basket out of reach.

Naturally, his own horse demanded a personal greeting. After scratching Caesar's favourite spot behind his ears, Ashley kept on. The stable master's office was at the end of the row and held his quarry.

"Any progress?" he asked as he entered to see Fielding and Baines circling their prey. They had to be exhausted, but by the third day, prisoners were usually ready to negotiate. All three turned to eye the basket, which held the delicious smells of warm, yeasty goodness infused with currants.

"We were just convincing Devil here that it's in his best interest to cooperate," Baines explained.

"I ain't afraid of the hangman's noose."

"Be that as it may, transportation to a better clime has its appeals," Ashley said.

"I ain't a snitch."

"Are any of your gang worth dying for?"

He sniffed and looked away.

"All I'm asking you to do is agree to signal them that you are still alive. That does not require snitching." Ashley set his basket down on the dusty desk and pulled out one of the golden buns. He waved it close enough to Devil's face for him to appreciate and salivate before offering one to Baines.

"Don't mind if I do." Baines took the warm bun and took a bite, savouring it loudly.

"Captain?" Ashley offered Fielding one and they all tortured the by now starving Devil.

Ashley finished his roll, then made a great show of licking his fingers. "I don't know, Captain. If he doesn't want to cooperate, then it will draw all of his gang into our laps. Then we would have all of them."

Devil narrowed his eyes a little, but it was the only outward sign he made. He had likely not considered that fact.

"Actually, that might be a better idea. Perhaps we should run it by the colonel."

"Don't. I'll do it," Devil growled.

"Now that I think about it, why would we not want to capture the whole gang? Surely one of them will tell us who they're working for."

"That younger one would be easy to crack. He didn't even have a beard yet," Fielding pointed out.

"I said I'll signal for you."

"I think you're going to have to do one better than that," Ashley said. "I want to know what the signals mean."

The man looked exhausted. He wanted to refuse, but he must know that the game was up. He would never have freedom unless he escaped, and he would never be left alone to try.

"One flash means nothing new."

Ashley nodded.

"Two means the game is spotted."

"Go on," Ashley encouraged with a roll of his hand.

"Three means it's time to move in for the kill."

"Now was that so hard?" Ashley asked, then plucked a roll from the basket and tossed it to him.

He caught it with his mouth and bound hands, then devoured it within seconds. He reminded Ashley of a wild animal that had been starved.

"There is more where that came from when you oblige us with more information," Baines taunted.

"What time do you normally signal?" Fielding asked.

"A drink," Devil demanded.

"It just so happens I have some home-brewed ale." Ashley pulled the cork from the jug and wafted it where Devil would be tempted.

"Eight in the evening," he answered practically chasing the bottle with his hanging tongue.

Ashley held the bottle to his mouth and let Devil drink a good, long swig. He swallowed and hung his head back with relief.

Ashley set the bottle down just out of reach. "The rest is yours when you tell me what you're waiting to signal for."

Now that Devil had had the worst of his hunger pains relieved, he had a little more resistance.

Ashley could see him firm his resolve. Curse it all. It was a fifty-fifty shot whether people gave in to hunger and ran their mouths like a river, or had enough to keep going and the game of torture had to begin all over again.

"Do you receive signals as well or do you get messages elsewhere?" he asked, hoping he wouldn't stop giving information.

Devil's eyes flickered at the latter.

"So somewhere else."

He looked at Fielding and Baines to see if they'd also noticed. A slight incline of their heads acknowledged that they had. He knew from experience it would be a while before he was ready to tell them the rest of the information.

"Where is the cargo you moved?"

Devil's face was frozen in place. He was done cooperating for now.

"I will leave that here in case he decides he'd like to say more. I'll go and give the report and see what the colonel wishes to do." They were careful not to use real names around criminals as such for the slightly protective benefit.

He saddled his horse and he took Caesar out for a brief run towards the clearing. Westwood was taking a turn in the tree and looked down with a grin when Ashley pulled the horse up beneath him.

"Oh, fair maiden! Shall I rescue thee?" Ashley called.

"My brave knight, come to rescue me!" Westwood simpered.

"You might as well come down. Devil finally told us they signal at eight every evening. It rings true with the time the others showed up at the tavern."

"Did he tell you what the signals were?"

"Aye, and they also ring true. I knew Cook's famous rolls and ale would not fail me."

"Like water to a parched man," Westwood agreed.

"Even better, delicious, refreshing ale." Ashley was thinking he wouldn't mind some himself about now. "One point we had not considered was not signalling and drawing them in here. I know you think it a risk to the ladies, but it might be a nice trap to catch all of them."

"Be that as it may, I need to remove everyone that could possibly be harmed if it comes to that," his brother reminded. Ashley was grateful he did not have the weight of all those females on his conscience.

"I will discuss it with Renforth and see. He may wish to keep them operating as is so we can catch the bigger fish."

"That would be my preference. If not this gang, they will always find another willing to do anything for coin. I best continue to keep my eye out. We need to discover where he's receiving his information from to signal them about."

"I'm fairly certain it's not another signal, but how would someone get a message to him here?" Ashley pondered aloud.

"Other than the river?" Westwood asked, thinking. "No one would be able to sneak in the gate, and the only other option is Sir Horace's land."

The look they shared indicated neither one of them thought Sir Horace had the wits to organize a dinner party, let alone a smuggling operation.

"There is also the possibility that one of your servants could be passing messages even unwittingly."

"I find that harder to fathom than someone sneaking onto my estate, but it bears looking into," Westwood agreed with a heavy sigh.

"Who would be the most likely to go into the village or Town frequently?"

"That is a better question for Armstrong, Mrs. Armstrong, and Chauncy. I do know that James has an ailing grandmother in the village and goes home to her at night, but he's been with us for so long it would be hard to fathom him doing such a thing."

"Presented to him as something innocent, the right amount of coin could make a lesser man do much worse things." Ashley had seen it time and time again.

"Sadly true."

"I will go and speak with the servants. It's an avenue we hadn't considered that bears closer scrutiny." Ashley saluted, then turned Caesar around to head back.

"Tell Cook to send any extra rolls she has," Westwood called after, making Ashley smile.

As he rode back, it occurred to him that this might be one instance where the Whitford sisters' observations might come in handy. One Whitford sister in particular, who was always looking for ways to meddle, would be thrilled to be involved. Don't do it , his conscience warned, but he already knew he wouldn't listen.