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To Hunt the Hunter (Girls Who Dare Book 11)

Page 22

by Emma V. Leech


  Matilda exclaimed with shock as Jack put out a hand to calm her.

  “Oh, don’t fret, lady. ’Tis nowt but pig’s blood but on his lordship’s own fine linen, to reassure the old man he was proper cut up. And you said you’d give me your signet an’ all, lord.”

  Lucian nodded, giving Jack the benefit of one of his iciest glares. “I did, and I will expect it returned to me promptly, or our association will be a short one, as will your life expectancy.”

  Jack returned a reproachful stare, his haggard face settling as close to innocent affront as it was capable of attaining. “Ah, now, lord. I’ve sworn fealty an’ I meant it.”

  “It’s my lord,” Lucian said coolly, tugging off the heavy gold signet with difficulty. “I am a marquess, not God Almighty, though you may not appreciate the difference if you renege on our arrangement.”

  Jack’s mouth quirked.

  “Aye, lord,” he said gravely.

  Lucian sighed and tossed the ring to him. Jack caught it deftly in a hand the size of a ham hock and tucked it into an inside pocket.

  “Sure you don’t want me just to cut his throat and be done with it?” he asked Lucian, a wicked glint in his eyes. “I owe it him, for bilking me, like.”

  “A tempting offer,” Lucian replied dryly. “But I decided many years ago I would not allow him to make me in his own image. I will not change my opinion at this late stage of the game.”

  “The game?” Jack repeated, one dark eyebrow lifting.

  “The game,” Lucian agreed, his expression grim. “And a dangerous one at that. Do not underestimate my uncle and believe him to be the pleasant old man he appears to be. And he will appear so, I assure you, even though you know he ordered my throat cut. He believes you and your men are the only witnesses to his nephew’s murder, the only ones who can implicate him. He will kill you without a second thought. Do not turn your back on him, or give him the opportunity.”

  “Ah, lord, preachin’ to the choir, you be. Though I appreciate the concern. I’ll be back soon enough, with yer famble cheat an’ all my word on it.”

  He spat in his hand and held it out to Lucian, who looked at it with mingled disgust and outrage.

  “Right,” Jack said, wiping his palm hurriedly on his trousers. “I’ll bid ye adieu.”

  Matilda watched as the big man hurried from the room and turned her gaze upon Lucian.

  “Famble cheat?” she enquired with interest.

  Lucian grinned at her, that mischievous look firmly back in his eyes. “I believe it is a cant expression for a ring.”

  “Ah,” Matilda said, nodding her understanding. “The things one learns in your company, Lucian Barrington. I can hardly credit it.”

  ***

  The three of them had just finished dinner when Flash Jack returned.

  “Show him in,” Lucian said blithely to the rather incensed hotel manager, who had just left off protesting at having such a villain wandering in and out of his fine establishment.

  Mr Elliot’s jaw was rigid and determined until Lucian settled his icy gaze upon the man. After an uncomfortable moment, the manager blanched, bowed, and hurried out. Jack strode in a few moments later with a face like thunder.

  “Bleedin’ cheap-arsed scaly cove,” Jack fumed as he approached the table. “Reckoned to give me twenty yellow boys instead of fifty for snabbling you, lord. As if I’d stick me neck in a noose for such a paltry return. I ought to have put him to bed with a mattock and tucked him in with a spade, the blackguard, but I did like you bid me, though it pained me sommat fierce.”

  “Mind your tongue, you old rogue,” Lucian said mildly, pouring out a glass of wine and handing it to Jack, who brightened perceptibly.

  “Beggin’ your pardon, missus,” he said to Matilda, belatedly swiping his hat from his head before turning to Phoebe and grinning. “Princess.”

  Matilda nodded and hid a smile.

  “Good evening, Jack,” Phoebe said. “We did warn you Uncle Theodore would cheat you. He’s a very bad man.”

  “Aye,” Jack said sourly. “You can’t trust no one these days,” he added without even a trace of irony.

  Matilda caught Lucian’s eyes though and saw the glimmer of amusement there.

  “My ring?” Lucian said, holding out his hand.

  “Oh, aye, the blighter wanted to keep that an’ all, but I weren’t havin’ it, not when I was thirty guineas light on the deal.” Jack’s expression was one of righteous indignation as he fumbled about in his coat pocket and retrieved the signet ring, handing it back to Lucian.

  “You’ve done well, thank you, Jack,” Lucian replied, sliding the ring back on. “You will be rewarded as promised. Did you have any trouble?”

  Jack shook his head. “No, but it was just like you said. Creepy old bast— devil he is, once you know. Like butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth, but I know there was a pretty couple of barking irons under the table and he’d ’ave used ’em too, if I’d given him the chance. Old Jack’s too canny, though, and we got away sharpish without giving him a chance at us.”

  “What did you tell him?”

  “Just like you said, lord.” Jack took an appreciative swallow of the wine. “Ah, that’s nice, that is,” he said, smacking his lips.

  “Jack,” Lucian pressed.

  “Yes, lord, sorry. I told him I was gonna get cleaned up and come and visit the pretty lady what had been with you when I, er….” He paused, frowning as he looked towards Matilda and Phoebe.

  “When you cut Uncle’s throat?” Phoebe said helpfully.

  “Aye,” Jack replied, his face clearing. “Told him we had some business to settle, what with her not wantin’ anyone to know she’d been with you and get caught up in some nasty scandal, and me wanting to keep me neck out of a noose. Told him we’d made a deal, but not what it was.”

  “Do you think he swallowed it?”

  “Oh, aye. I left one of the boys there and he’ll run ahead once the cove is on the move, but he’ll be here tonight. Reckon he knows the lady has figured he was behind it, and he’ll want to silence her.”

  Lucian nodded. “Very well. You will inform me the moment he arrives. I find I cannot wait to see the look on his face when he sees me rise, like Lazarus, from the dead. In the meantime, take Miss Hunt and Miss Barrington to their rooms and guard them with your life. My uncle is to get nowhere near them, do you hear me?”

  “Aye, lord.”

  “No.”

  They both looked up as Matilda shook her head.

  “No, Lucian, this won’t do. Your uncle is bound to come armed, and you’ve already been shot once this month. Let us not risk another bullet, please.”

  “I should say not,” said a voice from the doorway as Pippin came in. “I’ll not want all the bother of patching you up again, my lord.”

  She walked up to the table, pursing her lips in displeasure as she looked Jack over. Jack returned the favour, though he didn’t look the least bit displeased. His dark eyes twinkled appreciatively.

  Lucian shook his head. “My uncle is expecting to deal with you, Matilda. He’ll believe he can frighten you into silence with tales of scandal. When he realises his mistake, and that I am very much alive, he will be furious, but he will not shoot me in full view of the hotel staff and guests, for he will hang for it. So, we will have a little chat, and Jack and his men will escort him to the nearest docks, where I will have him returned under armed guard to India, and this time he will not be treated as kindly as before. He will not be coming back.”

  To Matilda’s surprise, Jack gave her a reassuring smile.

  “Don’t you fret, lady. His lordship is right. The old devil can’t do nowt in public and my men will guard him, don’t you worry none.”

  Pippin made a scathing sound of disagreement, and Matilda frowned, equally unhappy at the arrangement and about to say so when raised voices sounded outside the door.

  Lucian glared at Jack, who shook his head.

  “It ain’t your uncle.
My men would have warned us,” he protested.

  Jack was right, and Matilda gave a startled cry of surprise as the door flew open and her brother appeared, followed in quick succession by… by everybody, apparently.

  “Good heavens, Nate!” she exclaimed, getting to her feet. “What are you doing here?”

  Nate advanced on the table, ignoring her completely and stalking towards Lucian, who stood slowly, his face expressionless.

  “Bastard,” Nate growled, his tone one of white rage. “Name your seconds.”

  “Nate!” Matilda shouted, pushing between the two men in the instant before Nate made a grab for Lucian’s cravat. “Stop this at once!”

  There was something of a scuffle as her brother was restrained between the Earl of St Clair and Gabriel Knight, and Matilda stared about her in astonishment.

  “What is the meaning of this?” she demanded, uncertain whether to be touched or outraged at their interference.

  “We’ve come to take you home, Tilda,” Nate said, yanking his arms out of the men’s hold. “Your reputation has been shredded by this bastard, and all the vile stories circulating the ton.”

  “That is not why we came,” Alice said, glaring at her husband, running to Matilda and taking her hand. “We came to be with you, Matilda, because… oh, because we think you will need us. Nate is right, love. The stories are just awful, though Helena has assured us they are not true,” she added, giving Lucian a doubtful glance.

  “How could you?”

  Matilda looked around to see Prue’s husband, the duke, had addressed Lucian, though Prue was not beside him. Lucian was very still, his expression as cold and hard as she had ever seen it. He looked to Phoebe, who had gone to stand with Pippin and held out his hand. She ran to him and took it before he turned back to Bedwin.

  “I would like my niece returned to her room before I am subjected to an interrogation.”

  “Oh, now you consider your niece, and wish to observe the proprieties?” Bedwin said with obvious loathing.

  How dare he.

  Matilda felt a furious protective rage overwhelm her tongue.

  “Excuse me, your grace,” she said, surprising herself with the force of her anger. “If you will forgive me for observing it, but this is none of your damned business. You don’t have the first idea what is going on, and I am a grown woman. I make my own decisions. I do not need you, or you, Nate,” she added, turning to glare at her brother, “to speak for me. Lucian did not ask me to come with him, any more than he asked me to follow him to Dern. Indeed, he has tried very hard to make me go away. I refused. My decision, and whilst I am beyond touched that all of you have come all this way… I do not need or want to be rescued.”

  “What hold do you have on her, you bastard?” Nate said in fury, as Jasper and Mr Knight grabbed hold of him again.

  “Don’t you talk to him like that!” Phoebe yelled, letting go of Lucian’s hand and running to kick Nate hard in the shin. “Uncle Monty loves her, and she loves him.”

  Nate yelled, as much in shock as pain, Matilda thought, and Phoebe promptly burst into tears.

  “Oh, Phoebe, love,” Matilda said, her heart breaking as the little girl ran back to Lucian, who swept her up in his arms and held her tight, soothing her tears.

  She turned on her brother in fury. “Nate, how could you?”

  Nate glared at her, opened-mouthed.

  “She kicked me!” he said indignantly.

  “You insulted her uncle,” Matilda retorted, folding her arms.

  “Matilda.”

  Matilda looked around at the sound of the quiet voice and smiled with relief as Aashini stepped forward, flanked by her husband, Lord Cavendish, and her grandmother, Dharani. Matilda ran into the arms that were held open to her and had to work hard not to cry as Aashini hugged her tight.

  “You look well, despite all of this,” Aashini observed, her beautiful face calm as she let her go, holding Matilda at arm’s length. “Are you?”

  Matilda nodded. “I am. Thank you. But we do not have time for explanations. Aashini, you know what it is to fight a man who has wronged you, and Lucian is doing the same. We believe his uncle is a dangerous man and he’s on his way here, and… and…. Oh, lord, it’s all terribly complicated but, if you would just do as I ask, I think perhaps we can make things right.”

  “Then we will do as you ask,” Aashini said simply. “Oh, but Dharani wishes to meet the wise woman that travels with you. And do not ask me how she knows of her, for she will not tell me.”

  “Pippin?” Matilda replied, surprised, glancing over at the woman in question, who was helping Lucian comfort Phoebe. “Of course, but later, there is no time now. Mr Barrington will be here soon.”

  Aashini nodded.

  “If we do as you ask, will you come home with us, Matilda?” Nate said, looking as though he was fighting to keep his voice even. “If you come now, we might silence the worst of the gossip, if we all stick together.”

  “No.”

  “Yes.”

  Matilda swung around as Lucian’s answer overlaid her own.

  “No!” she said, her voice firm. “Ten days, Lucian. There are still ten days….”

  “No, love,” he said, shaking his head, though the calm tenor of his voice and his emotionless expression did not fool her. “Your brother is right. You ought not be here. I ought never to have allowed it, no matter what you or I wanted. We must now do everything we can to save you from this mess. I won’t have you ruined.”

  Nate snorted in disgust, but held his tongue as Matilda shot a sharp-edged glare at him, clenching her jaw against all she wanted to say. She would not argue this now, before everyone. She still could not believe that nearly all her friends were here. Only Prue, who was too heavily pregnant for such a journey, and Ruth and Kitty seemed to be missing. A quick rap at the door was punctuated by the appearance of the narrow, pointed features of one of Flash Jack’s men.

  “He’s on his way, Flash,” the fellow called out.

  “Right ho.”

  Belatedly everyone turned their attention to Jack, their eyes on stalks.

  “Who the devil is this?” Nate demanded.

  Despite everything, Matilda could not resist introducing them. “Nate, this is Flash Jack. Jack, my brother Nathaniel Hunter.”

  Jack’s eyes lit up.

  “Him what owns Hunter’s?” he asked with obvious awe.

  “Matilda?” Nate said faintly, clearly beyond astonished at her and the Marquess of Montagu keeping such company. “What the hell have you been up to?”

  “You must forgive me,” Lucian said coolly, setting Phoebe down, though he kept hold of her hand, his icy gaze settling on Nate. “But this must wait until later. Mr Hunt, if you wish to call me out, that is your right, but you must get in line. My uncle is about to discover I’m not as dead as he had hoped, and I’m afraid he will be rather disappointed. If you will excuse me.”

  “Lucian, no!” Matilda exclaimed, running to him. “Listen to me. You need witnesses. You need to get your uncle to confess to his crimes.”

  Lucian snorted. “He’s not a fool, love. He never has been, more’s the pity.”

  “No, but if he doesn’t know anyone is listening, he won’t be so careful,” she said impatiently. “Have someone tell him I will meet him in the assembly rooms, and then you meet him there, if you must take my place. There are curtained balconies that overlook the floor. If a duke, an earl, a viscount, and all of us could confirm we had heard his confession….”

  “He’s not done anything, though, Matilda,” Lucian said in frustration. “I’m still alive.”

  “But he paid to have you murdered! Flash Jack could testify to that.”

  Jack promptly turned as white as a milk pudding and shook his head.

  “Don’t worry, Jack,” Lucian said, smiling a little. “I would not ask it of you.”

  “I would!” Matilda said furiously. “We could say we asked Jack to pretend to agree to it, not that he ev
er had any intention of going through with it. We could say he was already in your employ. You saved Galloping whatever his name was from the gallows, did you not?” Matilda turned to Jack and glared at him. “You owe him!”

  Jack shifted from foot to foot, one large hand rubbing the back of his neck uneasily.

  “What the devil is going on?” the earl’s brother, Jerome, grumbled, clearly dissatisfied by the explanation so far. “Are you saying Theo Barrington paid this villain to murder Montagu?”

  “Yes!” Matilda said furiously.

  Everyone stared at Jack with wide-eyed alarm and Matilda watched, a little surprised as colour rose in Jack’s cheeks.

  “It were only business,” he protested. “Nothin’ personal.”

  “Oh, well, that’s all right, then,” the earl drawled, earning himself an elbow in the ribs from Harriet.

  “Jack!” Matilda shouted, on the verge of stamping her foot.

  “All right!” the fellow bellowed back at her. “All right, but only if you promise me, word of honour, I’ll not get me neck stretched for me troubles.”

  “I swear it, Jack,” Lucian said, holding out his hand.

  Jack stared at it in surprise as the shock of the gesture rippled through the room. The nobility did not shake hands with anyone unless they were of equal rank. Montagu certainly didn’t. Ever. It was a gesture of commitment, and even Jack seemed to realise it.

  He took Lucian’s hand, and the deal was made.

  “And now I must go,” Lucian said. “If you will excuse me.” He took Phoebe over to Matilda, his silver eyes meeting hers. “Look after her for me.”

  Matilda heard the meaning in his words. Look after her, not just for now, but if anything goes wrong. Her heart clenched.

  “You know I will.”

  He nodded, a look in his eyes that spoke more than anything he might have said before the present company.

  “The assembly rooms, Lucian.”

  Lucian sighed, his lips quirking.

  “Yes, love,” he said obediently. “Jack, keep them safe.”

  “Aye, lord,” Jack said, his expression grave.

  Matilda waited until the door closed. “We must get to the balconies over the assembly rooms.”

 

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