by Rebecca King
‘Where?’ Ronan asked, smothering another yawn.
Peregrine pointed to a dark shape emerging out of the morning mist. It looked like a bundle of rags lying at the side of the road, but as they drew nearer to it, the outline of legs protruding from a thick, dark cloak became visible. They all knew who it was before they dismounted and flipped the folds of the cloak away from the dead man’s face.
‘Well, at least we know where he is,’ Peregrine sighed as he studied Wardle’s lifeless stare.
‘Geranium said he was packing a saddle bag.’ Ronan began to search the undergrowth on either side of the country lane for the bag, but he couldn’t find it.
Peregrine walked down the road a little and vaulted over a make-shift gate into the field beyond. He found the saddle bag with ease as it lay just behind the hedgerow next to the place where Wardle had been struck down by Lynchgate’s bullet.
‘It looks like our magistrate had the foresight to throw the evidence over the hedge when he saw Lynchgate approaching, or realised he was nearby,’ Peregrine murmured as he studied Wardle’s horse, contentedly munching grass several feet away.
‘I think that Wardle probably knew that Lynchgate was going to kill him and discarded the evidence so that Lynchgate couldn’t destroy it,’ Ronan said. ‘The magistrate deals with evidence, don’t forget. He would throw the saddlebag over the hedge and into a dark field knowing that someone would find it but Lynchgate probably wouldn’t even notice it was there.’
‘At least Wardle had the foresight to leave evidence. There has to be something in here,’ Peregrine mused, studying the untouched ties of the bag which still secured the papers inside.
‘We can assume that this remains untouched by Lynchgate. He would probably have taken the whole damned thing if he had known where it was,’ Ronan said. ‘So, we have something in here, something Wardle wanted to take with him when he tried to leave town.’
‘It might be what Lynchgate was looking for in Sminter’s house,’ Dean suggested.
‘Let’s get back to the safe house then, shall we?’
Before they left the area, the men searched the hedgerow one last time but couldn’t find any footprints, or any of Wardle’s personal belongings. It appeared that the dead man had left his house with nothing but a saddlebag full of papers.
‘Do you think he was taking them to someone?’ Dean asked.
‘We may never know. I doubt he was taking them to Lynchgate, or he wouldn’t have hidden them, and Lynchgate wouldn’t have killed him before he handed them over,’ Peregrine replied.
‘What do we do about him?’ Ronan asked with a nod at Wardle’s corpse.
‘Drape him over his horse. We can take him to Lynchgate’s outbuildings and get Harrison to fetch him from there. If Lynchgate is hiding in the property, the body of the man he has murdered being on his property will unnerve him as will the sight of Harrison poking around in his outbuildings,’ Peregrine said.
‘Of course, it could be Gorman who is the killer,’ Ronan suggested. ‘We are assuming it was Lynchgate, but nobody knows where Gorman really is.’
Peregrine helped Ronan drape Wardle’s corpse over his horse and said: ‘I agree that we don’t know if Gorman is helping Lynchgate outside of the workhouse as well. Lynchgate certainly seems to get around a lot for an overweight buffoon. He seems to be quite agile as well.’
‘We heard you and Geranium talking about Wardle last night,’ Dean warned. ‘If Lynchgate was also in the woods, he could have overheard your conversation too. He probably went after Wardle when he had escaped us. Wardle hasn’t been dead all that long. His body is still warm.’
‘Lynchgate is still around here and might be watching us now.’ Ronan studied the trees on the horizon but knew that a gunman hiding in them couldn’t shoot them because they were too far away. However, Lynchgate could follow them and find out where they were staying.
‘We have to have a patrol now,’ Peregrine warned.
Ronan agreed. ‘We will leave it to the others. I was on night watch the night before last as well, remember. If I don’t get some sleep soon, I am going to fall off my damned horse.’
Peregrine and Dean shared a worried look. Despite his lack of sleep and obvious exhaustion, it was unusual for Ronan to be so out of sorts and grumble about his discomfort. Ronan was usually a happy fellow who rarely allowed anything to sully his cheerful attitude toward life. If there was someone who could be relied upon to crack a joke, or tease someone into lightening an oppressive atmosphere, it was Ronan. Today, though, something was troubling him and brought a heavy, discontented furrow to his brow that alarmed everyone who knew him.
‘Maybe you should go and see if she is all right,’ Dean prompted, wondering if Ronan’s grumpiness might have something to do with the passionate kiss that they had all witnessed last night.
Privately, he had to wonder what had possessed Ronan to do such a thing. Ronan was usually the most professional one of them all. To kiss a woman like Geranium was so out of character it was alarming to have watched him take risks with her. However, regardless of what Ronan said, and his dedication to the Star Elite, Ronan was also a man with wants and needs just like everyone else. If he felt he had a need for Geranium, so long as he was prepared to do the right thing by her then it wasn’t for anybody to interject or object.
‘Don’t get distracted,’ Peregrine warned. ‘Why don’t you focus on getting the job done before you decide whether to romance her or not? Remember where she lives and come back to see her when the investigation has been concluded. That’s my advice to you. Being distracted with a man like Lynchgate around could get you killed, then a damned future is never going to sodding happen because you will be six feet down in your box.’
Ronan nodded sagely. ‘I don’t know what possessed me to do such a damned foolish thing. I regret it. Geranium is irritating, the very last kind of woman I would willingly get involved in. She asks too many bloody questions and doesn’t behave like a biddable wife should. God knows, nobody else has seen fit to marry her yet, and I cannot for the life of me condemn them for it.’
‘If you don’t like her, what in the Hell made you want to kiss her?’
‘That’s just it, I don’t sodding know. Estelle is far more beautiful than Geranium. Every man wants Estelle, yet she saw fit to favour me with her graces,’ Ronan stated, but didn’t sound all that pleased about it. ‘It would be a damned fool who gave her up for a woman like Geranium.’
There was an air of fatality about Ronan’s statement that made Peregrine grin. ‘But Estelle is not the kind of woman you could raise a family with, Ronan. I mean, she might have graced you with her favour, but she has graced many others with her favour too over time. She has a bit of a, er, reputation. Nobody has seen fit to marry her either. Upper class or not, she is nothing more than a veritable whore, and you know it.’
‘That’s why she is far more of a safer option for me,’ Ronan argued. ‘She doesn’t expect me to preserve her sodding reputation and marry her. Her reputation is already ruined, and everyone knows it.’
‘But Estelle can be nothing more than a brief liaison. You should know that she has others warming her bed when you are not around. A woman like that rarely goes any length of time without taking a lover. There are times when you disappear for months on end with nary a word or a letter. You both know how it works, and while it has provided you both with what you want it isn’t really a proper relationship. It isn’t anything more than a man visiting a whore,’ Peregrine reasoned. He wondered for a moment if he had ventured too far into personal insults towards Ronan’s lover, and waited for Ronan’s fist to plant itself in his face.
Ronan sighed heavily instead and threw his friend a rueful look. ‘It has worked well, and no I would never marry Estelle. She is a whore, I will admit. Although she is titled and wealthy, she is still a whore. If I am honest, I would rather rot away in a foreign gaol for a crime I didn’t commit than marry the likes of her and I have made no bone
s about it, but that is no reason why I should look to marry Geranium. She isn’t the kind of woman I should be interested in either.’
‘Why? Because she is the kind of woman you could marry and take home to your parents?’ Peregrine asked.
‘Exactly,’ Ronan agreed. ‘I don’t want to marry. I don’t want to dally with a local female and have to stay when this investigation is over. I want to move on when this investigation is concluded. I must move on. I don’t want Geranium. She irritates me. She is far too nosy, far too headstrong. She needs someone who will provide a loving, family home for her. Geranium needs children to keep her busy, and hopefully her mind off asking damned fool questions.’
‘But they aren’t foolish questions, are they?’ Dean challenged. ‘I mean, the questions she asked you last night are the kind of questions any sane, sensible, and rational person should ask of someone, a stranger. If you can criticise Geranium for anything it is that she should have asked you for more information about yourself before she allowed you to kiss her.’
‘God, I thought for a moment we were going to have to haul you off her,’ Peregrine teased.
Dean nodded. ‘Or fetch a bucket of water.’
Ronan threw a curse at him but softened its force with a smile. He shook his head in rueful disgust. ‘I erred off my rigidly beaten path, and now realise that I made a mistake. Because I have no interest in the woman, and absolutely no intention of settling down, I am going to do everything in my power to stay away from her. Whatever her problems are, she has to find someone else to help her solve them because I cannot.’
‘Do you think she has a problem?’ Peregrine asked sharply.
‘Yes, I do.’ Ronan told him about the sudden change in Geranium’s behaviour. He still struggled to understand the cause of it. ‘I am used to fighting knifemen, gunmen, liars, thieves, and scoundrels. I don’t have the time to deal with a woman’s emotional problems. I will leave the weeping and wailing to her parents. They need to find her a suitable sap willing to lead her up the aisle. What I know for definite is that it won’t be me.’
‘How old is she?’ Dean asked with a thoughtful frown at the village.
‘God knows, but she isn’t any young chit of a girl, I can tell you that much,’ Ronan sighed.
‘She is pretty, though,’ Peregrine mused. ‘Quite beautiful as a matter of fact.’
‘So why don’t you marry her?’ Ronan snorted.
Peregrine lifted his brows. ‘Well, if you are sure that she isn’t for you, I will see about venturing that way and attempting to catch her eye. Ah, with your permission, of course.’
Ronan turned to stare at him. At first, he thought his friend was joking, just trying to prompt him into objecting, but the deadly seriousness in Peregrine’s eye was alarming.
‘You really are interested in her.’ It wasn’t a question.
‘She is inquisitive, Ronan. It speaks of intelligence; someone with a lively mind who needs information. There can be nothing wrong with it. It means that a life with her would never be dull and boring. I mean, finding a passionate lover is wonderful but without sharing lives and experiences outside of the bedroom there can’t be a relationship. Boredom will create distance and drive a couple further apart as soon as the passion fades. Many marriages have been founded on passion, but they have failed because of life. Life gets in the way, don’t you think? The realities of life; cleaning, sweeping, cooking, money, all get in the way of passion. It is difficult to be amorous when one has an empty stomach or is worrying about how to put a meal on the table the next morning. For someone like Geranium, her lively mind and inquisitive nature means she is more likely to be able to figure out solutions to problems herself. It means that she won’t struggle and whinge like most women of her age and expect a man to sort out her problems for her. She is far more likely to be the kind of woman who would keep the home fires burning while I am away for months on end. I won’t end up going home to a catastrophe or a list of problems I need to fix during my time off.’ Peregrine settled back in his saddle and contemplated that. ‘No. I think Miss Geranium Snetterton has all the hallmarks of being a curious mix of Tabitha, Leonora, and Annalisa.’
‘What makes you say that?’ Dean asked before Ronan could.
‘Well, Annalisa is devoted to her aunt. You could say that Geranium must enjoy living with her parents. She has that same contented glow about her, as if she knows where home is and appreciates it.’
Dean nodded. ‘Geranium has Tabitha’s determination. Going off to see the magistrate by herself is something Tabitha would do.’
They all nodded.
‘What about Leonora?’ Ronan asked. It was odd that Peregrine’s suggestion had prompted mental images to flourish in the back of his mind. As disturbing as they were, Ronan could envisage Geranium marching off to the bank to see the manager before deciding to hare off to a strange house in the middle of nowhere like Tabitha had.
‘Leonora has the strength to look on the bright side of life. She can also resolve problems and challenges without Roger’s interference. Because she is strong, she isn’t biddable. We have all seen the way she stands her ground with him, but Roger adores her for it. It makes their marriage a happy one because they battle, argue, win fights, make up, and have found a way to forge their lives together. Roger has never moaned about being bored or mentioned that he finds his wife insipid or predictable.’
‘God, no. Roger adores Leonora,’ Ronan murmured. ‘But that is no reason why I should adore Geranium.’
‘Do you find her irritating because she asks you questions you don’t want to answer, or because she makes you feel things you don’t want to feel?’
Ronan contemplated that for several miles. They were on the outskirts of the village when he finally came to a decision.
‘I find Geranium irritating because she asks questions. It isn’t that I don’t want to answer them. If I wanted to tell her to mind her own business, I would. It is just the constant prattling on that irritates the life out of me,’ Ronan admitted.
Neither Peregrine nor Dean answered, prompting Ronan to glance over at them. It was then that he saw Geranium standing on the opposite side of the road. Despite dawn having barely risen over the horizon, she was up and about, and looked glorious in the morning sunshine.
She has also heard every word I have just said.
Ronan mentally cursed but it was too late to take his words back. The stony expression on Geranium’s face made it clear she wouldn’t converse with him even if he tried to speak to her. Without saying a word, Geranium crossed the street until she was behind them and promptly disappeared down a side road. Ronan watched her over his shoulder, but she didn’t glance at them again.
‘I wonder where she is going?’ Peregrine mused.
‘Well, if you are so damned interested in her, why don’t you go and find out?’ Ronan snapped, disgusted with himself for being so brazen with his rejection of her.
‘I think I will,’ Peregrine murmured before wheeling his horse around and setting off after her.
Ronan felt a pang of jealousy as he watched him. It was the first time that he had ever resented Peregrine and it annoyed him because he didn’t want any woman to damage his friendships with his colleagues. Still, Ronan knew that if anybody would do right by Geranium it would be Peregrine.
‘Damn it all to Hell,’ Ronan growled when he tried to dismiss his friend’s interest in Geranium only to have it annoy him even more.
‘You have to get some sleep,’ Dean reminded him, making no attempt to hide his grin.
Ronan nodded, and had every intention of doing just that. He really did. He got as far as the end of the street, right outside the safe house, before he knew it would be useless to even try. He simply had to double back and go after Peregrine and Geranium.
‘Sleep, remember?’ Dean prompted.
Ronan stopped. He stared at the street and contemplated what to do.
‘She won’t thank you if you treat her like an i
mbecile. It isn’t fair to save her life but ruin her reputation. She heard you and now probably won’t allow you anywhere near her anyway. Why make a fool of yourself going after someone you quite clearly don’t want and have no interest in?’ Dean asked. ‘Best go back to the safe house and get some sleep, eh? Leave her to Peregrine.’
Ronan had to force himself to turn his horse back around and return to the safe house. He was tired and hungry, but even so felt an acute sense of dissatisfaction with life that went far beyond the need for rest. For once, it had nothing to do with the Star Elite’s investigation either.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Geranium was relieved that there were several passengers on the carriage to town. They gave her something else to think about and helped her to try to keep her mind off Ronan’s brutal honesty. While what he had said hurt unbearably, Geranium was glad that she knew what he truly felt about her. She had been an idiot to even start to believe that a man like Ronan might be attracted to her.
But at least I have found out what he thinks about me now. He finds me an irritation, nothing more, so I am not going to spend another moment of my day thinking about him.
Geranium looked out of the carriage window. The sun was shining. Birds were chirping in the trees, and she was going to spend the day shopping in town. It was going to be a good day; she was going to make sure of it. Thankfully, the large town square, which was surrounded on all four sides by a variety of shops and businesses, was bustling when she reached it. Determined to forget her problems, Geranium began to wander. She stopped to study ribbons and fripperies, feel the quality of silks and laces, and shake her head at the persistent antics of the market traders who were all vying for her coins. Geranium stepped around a small group of children trying to usher several chickens across the road and laughed when they sloshed through a puddle and covered the chickens in muddy water.