Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9

P atience smiled when she heard Colonel Renforth direct Major Stuart to attend the dinner that night. If she had to suffer, then it was only fair that he did as well.

He would have her head if he knew she was out there alone—well, not alone as Xander was by her side—but without a male escort.

However, she was restless and needed to do something so she decided to investigate the pathway between Taywards and the Fagge estate. When she'd seen Major Stuart, she had followed him to the clearing. She'd been afraid Xander would give her away, but he'd remained quiet by her side.

Now, Major Stuart was off to see if his colleagues had discovered anything and she would not be able to go into the village, dash it all. No one would believe her if she said she wanted to shop. Those words would taste like venom on her tongue and would be known for the lie they were.

"Let us go on towards the gate then, Xander."

It was a fair distance and a bit of a climb up a hill. She stopped to catch her breath and rested a moment beneath the shade of a large oak tree whose leaves were beginning to turn a beautiful shade of yellow.

Xander took the opportunity to roam around sniffing when she heard him growl.

"Xander, come," she whispered and crouched down beside him. "What is it, boy?"

They were getting close to the turnstile, so likely it was one of the grooms Westwood had put there to guard, but again she knew she should not have gone out alone. Certainly, she did not wish to be caught. She quieted the puppy by stroking behind his ears and tried to listen for what had made him growl.

She stood trying to see if it, in fact, could have been the posted guard. But even he was not visible. She took a few steps closer, but there was a large gorse bush obscuring her view. She stood on her tiptoes and could just see the top of someone's hat. She could see the groom accepting what looked like a coin, but could not make out the other person. Drat!

She pushed down on the branches and leaned just a little more, then lost her balance and tumbled down the incline right into the path.

"Miss Whitford!" A nasally, familiar voice exclaimed.

Patience wanted to die.

Xander began growling and barking at Rupert.

"I'll say! Call the dog off!" Rupert whined, trying to hide behind the groom that was manning the turnstile.

"Xander, no!" she commanded and the puppy ceased, however much she would've enjoyed watching Xander take a little piece out of the buffoon. He was a very perceptive dog. She patted his head, then stood and brushed the dirt from her gloves and tried to smooth her skirts.

"Whatever are you doing here, Mr. Fagge?" He was dressed quite differently than his normal outré colours and patterns, in subdued black and grey. He wore tasselled Hessians instead of his favoured heels, which Xander was nipping at.

"I was about to ask you the same thing. You should not be wandering about with a vagabond on the loose," he scolded self-righteously as he tried to shoo the dog away.

Patience narrowed her gaze. He dared scold her? His voice had taken on a slightly different tone than she was unaccustomed to hearing from him.

"I was walking the dog. As you can see, he is an excellent protector. Why are you here?"

"Mama sent me to call to see who was attending our dinner. She said no one has answered yet."

My what a pushy, distasteful woman Lady Fagge was. "My sister was trying to ascertain the precise number of attendees. You must realize not everyone is present as they are on duty, and there is some difficulty with gathering the names." She hoped she sounded civil, because she felt anything but. She also wanted to remind the oaf that her sister was nine months with child, but she did not think Faith would appreciate her saying such. "You may assure your mama that a reply will be coming forthwith."

"Yes, yes, I will do that. May I escort you back to the house?"

Patience wracked her brains for any reasonable objection. "That will not be necessary, kind sir. If I am seen with you, then I will be scolded for wandering too far, indeed. Then I would not be allowed to attend your dinner tonight."

It was hard not to laugh, watching the thoughts run across Rupert's face. But he could see the validity of her argument and would risk his mama's wrath for someone not to attend her dinner party.

"You are certain you know the way?" he asked in one last effort to change her mind.

"Oh, yes. I know precisely where I am now." Never mind that Patience had never been lost a day in her life. "Good day, Mr. Fagge."

She hurried off down the path, praying he did not change his mind and come after her. She would rather take her chances with a vagabond than be alone with Rupert any day.

Now, she would have to endure an entire evening of his fawning and clinging. She shuddered at the thought. He disturbed her as much as Major Stuart, but in an entirely different way. It wasn't disgust she felt when she thought of Ashley Stuart, but she could not quite put a name to it…yet it was still entirely uncomfortable. What was it when someone irritated you, yet you could not stop thinking about them? At least she could say she had not been bored since his arrival. There had also been Lord Montford with Mr. and Miss Cunningham and Xander, of course. She had hardly spent any time with her other guests, but they were more friends with Grace and Joy anyway.

Her mind drifted back to seeing Rupert. Was Lady Fagge actually so pushy as to send Rupert over after she herself had sent a note that very morning? It was very odd, indeed. Something niggled at the back of her mind and she wondered whether she ought to mention it to Major Stuart. Should she tell him about the meeting and possible coin exchange she just witnessed? Then she shook her head. He would not appreciate the fact that she had defied his orders, and would likely tell Westwood. The last thing she needed was to have him on her case. Besides, was that not the groom's job to report any traffic through that part of the estate? What had the groom accepted from Rupert, and where had he gone off to? It was not as though anyone would stop one of the neighbours from visiting. It had to simply be her dislike of the man that made her wish him to be a villain. He was too much of a fool and too much under his mama's thumb to dare try anything nefarious. Patience gurgled a laugh at the thought.

Imagine being shackled to one as he! No doubt there would be three people involved in that marriage and Lady Fagge would direct every movement. Patience made a face of distaste.

How did so many women survive marriage without choosing their mates? Patience would rather die than be shackled to someone like Rupert. She was fortunate to have a choice in the matter, though would they allow her to remain as a spinster forever?

It was not that she hated men or even the idea of marriage if she could be assured of one such as Faith and Westwood had. Her more practical nature was quite certain affection like that did not come along very often. Since Hope also seemed to have found love, Patience felt the odds were even more against her, statistically speaking. There were few gentlemen she'd met that she could imagine such a union with. Dancing with most gentlemen was bad enough.

She would have to dance with Rupert, and the thought made her ill. At this point, she would not even have to feign a megrim. But she had heard Major Stuart and Colonel Renforth discussing the necessity of scouting out the neighbours, and she knew she was good at noticing small details. If there was any chance she could help solve this mystery, then she would suffer through. Now perhaps feigning a sprained ankle might be just the thing…

Ashley donned his uniform for the dinner because that was what was expected. He never minded formal dinners in London where people knew how to play the game, where the matchmaking mamas went after the bigger prey not the second sons. But there was always more expectation in the country where they were content to marry their daughters to a family name instead.

Not only did he have to suffer through this dinner, he would miss the signalling which he was keen to be a part of. He was certain something was going to happen tonight, and he'd be stuck doing the pretty to simpering upstarts.

When he could no longer delay the fact that he was ready, he made his way downstairs. Fielding was there eyeing him knowingly.

"Do not say a word," he warned.

"That's hardly fair when you would rub it in our noses were the positions reversed."

Ashley glared mockingly.

"Besides, our man could very well be at that dinner."

"I don't know." He picked at an imaginary piece of lint from his jacket. "I do think something will happen tonight, but my money says it will be here."

"Do you think Devil will betray us?"

"It is a possibility. They must know something is afoot. Devil has not signalled and no messages have been received with him in the stables."

"Devil hasn't cracked again?"

"Not since I asked an hour ago."

"I feel like we are missing something obvious." Which was normally how he felt during investigations until they were solved.

"If it was obvious, we would not still be here," Fielding drawled.

"Manners and Cholmely are still following the others?"

"Yes, they tracked them to a warehouse near the East India docks. They seem to be squatting in the area at night." That explained the petty crimes and vandalism that had brought them here in the first place.

"So they are looking for opportunities, it seems."

"Or waiting to be told when to act. None of them strikes me as overly initiative in nature."

"Members of gangs usually aren't. They follow the leader."

"Which is Devil. I must admit he's proven to be quite resistant to Baines' and my charms. He would have made a good soldier."

"We need to think like he does. Why is he resistant to giving up his leader? He must know he will not be able to walk free."

"Unless he thinks he will be able to escape."

"He's more afraid of the leader than us."

"I hope Renforth's contact is able to uncover something. If they are playing that deep, there must be some reason."

Fielding looked at his watch. "It's time to go."

"Perhaps I will join you and be fashionably late to the dinner," Ashley pondered. "I feel like that is too important to miss."

"We are not in Town, Ash."

"Yes, but Lady Fagge will be so grateful to have a bachelor there that she will forgive me."

"Suit yourself." Fielding shrugged.

He told Armstrong to inform Westwood that he would join them late. "I will be but a few minutes behind them."

"As you will, sir," Armstrong replied stoically.

Ashley accepted his hat and was about to follow the others to the stables when he caught a flash of pink out of the corner of his eye. All of his senses warned him to keep going and not turn, but he looked anyway. Patience was standing there, looking like a vision from heaven in a frothy concoction that accentuated her fine figure.

Their eyes met, and disappointment was written all over her face, but she held her tongue for once. He inclined his head and left, trying to catch up to the others.

Why was he feeling guilty for leaving her behind? This was his duty and he would fulfil his other obligation as well.

As they walked, an idea occurred to him. "Do you think perhaps he is related to the other gang members?"

"Devil? I suppose anything as possible," Fielding answered.

"It would explain some of his reluctance."

"Somehow, I have a hunch."

"Worth a try, I suppose."

They entered the stables and found Baines still with Devil.

He narrowed his gaze when he saw Ashley dressed in his uniform.

Ashley ignored the obvious disdain and sauntered over to him and sat on the arm of the chair he occupied, however unwillingly.

"Now is your time to shine," he told Devil with a mischievous grin.

Devil snorted.

"I just want to make clear that any mischief will affect your gang."

Devil's jaw clenched.

"The young one is pretty green."

"Leave him out of it," Devil growled.

Ashley's eyes met Baines' over Devil's head.

"As long as you cooperate, we won't touch a hair on his head. He is too young for a beard. What's he to you? Your son? Your nephew? No matter." Ashley waved his hand in the air and then uncrossed his legs and stood. "As long as we understand each other. Let's make this quick. I have a dinner to attend."

They led Devil with a gun pointed to his back down to the clearing.

Renforth and Fielding climbed different trees to try to get a good view, though it was in the dark with only a gibbous moon.

"There are two pistols pointed at you as there will be on your gang. Yes, indeed, they are being followed."

"Five till eight. Best be getting into place," Renforth ordered.

Baines unbound Devil's hands long enough for him to climb into the tree then he tied a rope around his ankle, linking them together.

"One minute," Renforth called.

Ashley lit the lantern and handed it up, then cocked his pistol and pointed it just to remind Devil of his task.

"Now."

Devil took the lantern and slid back the shield, lifted it, then shut it again and lowered it.

Fielding was watching across the river, but Ashley kept his eyes on Devil.

"They flashed back. What does that mean?"

"Message received."

"Excellent. Let's go."

As they slid down from the tree, Devil thought he had his chance. He thought wrong. As he kicked out, Ashley took his leg and twisted it. He spun and fell down, Ashley landing atop him with a quick blow to the ribs causing Devil to lose his breath. Ashley could feel beneath him as he gasped, trying to catch air through the pain.

"They won't be patient much longer," Devil said as they wrestled the ropes behind him this time.

"Neither will we," Baines growled. "As soon as you tell us what and whom you're waiting for."

"I can't," he spat.

They walked a few feet, Devil no longer fighting.

"It's your boy you're worried about. He's threatened him."

Devil nodded reluctantly. "I need to get to him first."

"What if we agree to take care of him? Transportation does not have to be a death sentence. We could arrange for the both of you to have decent accommodation for the right information."

"I heard they lock you in cells and most don't survive the trip."

Finally, he was showing some interest.

"It depends on the level of prisoner. Arrangements can be made. Not everyone on those ships is a prisoner," Ashley explained. He could tell Devil was contemplating the information. "Why do you not sleep on the idea? Tell us in the morning. I have to get to the dinner."

"I will join you since we are done for the night," Fielding announced.

"Jolly good of you."

"It is rather," the captain agreed.

Their horses were already saddled, so they mounted and took the bridle path towards the Fagge estate. As they rode, Ashley thought about what had happened that night and he had a nagging feeling that the answer was right under his nose. Was it the link between the two estates that was the key?

At least they had made progress that night. He was certain Devil could be persuaded to give up his leader.

As they arrived at the stables and dismounted, he checked his watch. Only half an hour late. Not late enough for his tastes.