by Tamara Gill
Kicking his mount into a gallop, he headed home, enjoying the sun on his back and the wind on his face. He wished to see his daughter and tell her that he’d join her tonight for tea in the nursery. Just as he’d promised.
…
“You were robbed! At gunpoint?” Josh bellowed behind the mahogany desk from which he sat, his eyes wide with alarm and his mouth agape with shock. “When? Where?” He stood, his chair flying backward and landing on its back. “Are you unharmed, Mother?”
Alice started at his obscenely loud voice, which threatened to deafen her. “Yes, we’re fine. It was the—”
“We were robbed by the Surrey Bandit,” their mama blurted, coming up to the desk and partaking of her brother the duke’s half-drunk brandy. “He took the family brooch. The one I received from your father on the announcement of our betrothal.” Her mother’s voice wobbled with distress, and she poured herself another glass of the amber liquid. “I can’t believe it’s gone.”
Alice clasped her mother’s hand and hearing her sniff, she passed her a handkerchief. “It’s all right, Mama. We are unharmed and that is the most important thing. Now,” she continued, ushering her to a chair, “you sit. I’ll tell Josh the rest.” Her mother did as she bid, because now that the adventure was over, the woman was showing signs of distress. Perhaps she ought to call the local doctor to ensure she wouldn’t have a fit of the vapors.
“Alice. Tell me what happened.”
Her brother’s question pulled her from her musings and she met his eyes, reading the burning anger that simmered in their depths. “The highwayman stopped us not two miles from the gates of the estate. He knew our names, used our titles when speaking to us, and demanded what he wished to steal. Poor Tony was knocked to the ground, but he’s resting now in his room and promised it was a slight ache in his head.”
Josh strode across the room to the mantel and pulled the bell cord. “We’ll have tea and discuss this further. I think Mama needs a medicinal drink that doesn’t contain alcohol.” A footman walked in and bowed. “Please bring us some tea and whatever cakes or biscuits Cook has, thank you.”
Alice watched the footman leave and went to sit on a chair beside her mother. Her mama was very pale, and she hated the thief for making her parent ill with worry and sadness. Alice vowed she would find out who the fiend was and ensure he had the full force of the law brought down on his head that housed such lovely blue eyes.
“Did you get a look at the robber—his horse or what he wore? Any marks that could help the authorities recognize him and issue punishment? I’ll send a note straight away to the local magistrate and have him come out to the house. He needs to hear that the bastard is close to our county and wreaking havoc.”
“Josh, watch your language please,” their mama stated, throwing her brother a stern glance.
“I’ll do more than swear in situations such as these,” he said, sitting down behind his desk. “How dare the fiend take what doesn’t belong to him. To think he can terrorize innocent women, and in our home county, no less, is beyond acceptable.” Josh paused, a deep frown forming between his eyes and giving him a wild look that Alice hadn’t seen before, well, maybe once, when her sister Beth had been kidnapped and he had been determined to get her back before her reputation was ruined.
Josh looked up and pinned her to the spot. “Did he do anything else to you? Make any other demands or threaten you in any way, should you seek retribution against his attack?”
Alice stilled under his piercing eyes that seemed, since becoming a duke, able to read minds. Gosh, she hoped not, but she quickly squashed the thought of lying to him. To do so wouldn’t help the situation. He’d only end up learning the truth, and then she’d be the one in trouble. Of course, it was best that he know everything that had happened out on the road, even if it did put a cheeky thief behind bars, or worse. “He put Mama in the carriage and pulled me behind the vehicle.” She ignored her brother’s growl of temper and continued. “He tried to barter with me, said that if I gave him a kiss he would think about taking my earbobs and giving me back the brooch. I agreed and—”
“You what! You kissed a highwayman. Lady Alice Worthingham, the Duke of Penworth’s daughter, kissed a felon. Why I—”
“Stop, Josh, and listen to your sister. She hasn’t finished telling you what happened.” Her mama’s authoritative tone cut through her brother’s harangue, and his mouth settled into a displeased line, but he didn’t speak again.
Alice stood and walked to the hearth, a cold chill making her seek the warmth of flames. “I made out I was going to kiss him. I allowed him to hold me close, as if to kiss me and then I kneed him in the groin. Quite forcibly, I might add. He fell immediately and didn’t get up, didn’t even sit up once I had the horses moving at a good pace. He continued to lie there.” Alice frowned. “I hope I didn’t hurt him too much. It’s one thing to be expecting an assault, and it’s quite another when it comes out of nowhere. He wouldn’t have thought a lady would do such a thing, I’d think.”
Her brother’s bark of laughter brought her out of her musing. “Wonderful,” he stated, slapping his desk. “I knew that your gumption was not for nothing. I hope the bastard suffers and his balls swell up so he finds even walking difficult.”
“Josh,” their mother said again, her voice stern. “We do not use such words in this home.”
Josh shook his head but did not disabuse her.
“I ran for the carriage and returned home immediately. There is nothing more to add.” Alice shrugged and again the feeling of melancholy washed over her. How odd that a man who should’ve terrorized her, only intrigued her. For all she knew, his childhood may have been hard, an orphan child, his life rife with trouble and misfortune. What else could lead a man to do what he’d done? The whole situation really was very cheerless. Maybe, once she did find him, instead of sending him to Newgate, she should help him? Turn his life about to have some meaning and purpose.
Her brother nodded, reaching across his desk and pulling a piece of parchment before him and dipping his quill in ink. “I’ll write straight away to the local magistrate. If you could tell the staff, we’ll have one extra for dinner, Mama.”
A footman knocked and entered, placing tea on her brother’s desk, before bowing and leaving. Alice came back over to the desk and poured the tea, placing one rout cake on a plate and handing them to her mama and Josh. “It seems there are no biscuits today.”
Her brother looked down at the little cakes that were really biscuits, but everyone had become so serious, so thoughtful, Alice would do anything to cheer them up.
“I should imagine the magistrate will be out within an hour or so of receiving this.” Josh stood and walked to the door, and yelling out to a footman, handed him the missive with orders to make haste to Ashford and deliver it as soon as possible.
“Will you need Mama and me to tell him what happened or will you do it?” The day had been very long, and her mama was still shaking, if the rattle of her tea cup was anything to go by. Alice hoped her nerves would settle and she would soon be set to rights.
Josh shook his head, finishing off his biscuit before reaching over and taking another. “Now that I know what happened, I’ll take care of it from here. I’m beyond glad you are both unharmed from the whole experience.” He took a sip of tea, shaking his head. “And I want neither of you to worry about what happened today. We will catch this fiend, and then we’ll watch him hang for his misdeeds. I can promise you that.”
Alice frowned. The thought of those dark, mysterious eyes being closed for eternity made her stomach churn uncomfortably. Thinking back over the situation, it really hadn’t been so bad. Yes he’d stolen, but perhaps he was desperate. “I think we need to find him, yes, but I also think we should ask what has made him lead such a life. If given the opportunity, maybe he would stop his misdeeds and turn his life about.”
Josh looked at her as if she’d turned into Medusa. “Are you mad? We will do no such t
hing. He will pay for what he did to both of you, and I’ll not allow anything less for the blaggard. If I have to single-handedly take down the Surrey Bandit, I will. His life of crime cannot continue, no matter what has led him to do what he does. Even the poorest child can choose not to follow the path to which he was born. It may be hard work and difficult, but it is possible. This fiend has chosen to thieve and terrorize people, and now it is time to pay the price for such a life.”
Alice nodded and hoped her attempt to look agreeable was working. “Of course, let him hang.” But should she find out who the Surrey Bandit was before her brother, well, there was no harm in trying to help him, before all hope was lost.
With a little aid, maybe he could be redeemed, start afresh, and never have to face what her brother was so determined to see happen to him.
Chapter Two
The following afternoon, Callum cantered up the long drive to the Dunsleigh Estate and his neighbor, the Duke of Penworth. He pushed away the nerves that the two women he’d stolen from, one whom he’d manhandled more than he ought, lived at the house. Would they recognize him? Would his voice give him away, or his eyes, which he’d been told by many an admiring female, were quite memorable?
He cringed, wiping away the light sheen of sweat that broke out on his brow. The best thing for him to do was to act like the neighbor he was, not the bandit everyone was hunting and wanted to see swing at the end of a noose.
Callum thought over the events of yesterday, and his heartbeat returned to its normal pace. The coachman was old and, as unfortunate as it was, he’d had to tie him up face down on the road, so surely he wouldn’t recognize him.
As for the mother, a woman getting along in age, he could only hope the events had scared her enough that she could only remember fragments, not specific details. Only the Lady Alice might prove troublesome. He’d been so close to her, had seen her so clearly, that surely she would’ve seen certain characteristics of him. And damn it, never before had he wanted to kiss a woman who’d shown so much bravery. The little minx had stood up to him bravely. She’d had more courage than any he’d come across in this particular folly, and he couldn’t help but respect her for it.
He looked down at the nondescript tan mount beneath him, and his outing into the lion’s den became less worrisome. The horse he’d used the day before, Bandit, was happily stabled back at Kester House and having a well-earned rest. Should Lady Alice think to check on what he was riding, she wouldn’t see the same mount. He would have to do something about keeping Bandit hidden, at least until everyone in this county forgot about his thievery.
No sooner did he have the thought did he come upon Dunsleigh. Callum stayed in the saddle a moment, before taking a deep, calming breath and dismounting before the large double doors to the house. He knocked and waited for the door to open before giving his card to a footman, dressed to perfection in his blue and gold finery, much nicer than his own staff were able to wear.
The grandeur of the house hit him like the knee to his nether regions had yesterday, and his pitiful lack of wealth settled heavier on his shoulders. The Worthinghams were amongst the wealthiest in England, any of the daughters would’ve been appropriate as royal brides, should their lives have taken them in that direction. From what he’d gathered, they were well sought out and liked among the ton.
He sighed, kicking his heels in the entrance foyer, before the servant reappeared and ushered him toward a front room. “His Grace will see you in the library, my lord.”
“Thank you,” Callum said, preparing to enter. He pushed away the niggling bite of jealousy that an estate that only sat a few miles from his own was eons apart when it came to riches.
As he entered the library, he realized that it couldn’t have been more opposite to his own. Here there were books on every shelf, upholstered furniture, and a roaring fire. His had few books, a roof that needed repairs, and wallpaper that was peeling and falling off. The thought of his home and the disgraceful state it was in washed shame over him, and again hammered home how important today’s meeting was to not only his estate’s future but that of his daughter’s well-being.
A month’s pay was due to his servants, and soon, should he not gain some funds, they would have to start rationing food, or at least, be very careful with what they ate. As it was, they ate a lot of soup, bread, and pudding. They only meat they ate was what his staff caught in traps or the chickens in the coop.
The duke stood and came around his desk, holding out his hand and welcoming him with a smile. The gesture made his conscience prick since, only the day before, he’d been the one who’d caused distress to the duke’s family.
“Your Grace,” Callum said with a bow, shaking the duke’s outstretched hand.
“Good to see you, Arndel, it’s been too long. Please, come have a seat and tell me why you’re so desperate to see me. Your missive last week seemed as if it was of some great import.” The duke motioned him toward a chair, before taking his own.
Callum waited for His Grace to sit, then got straight to his pressing matter. “I do have some business that is important to me. I would like to sell the land that adjoins your estate and is not entailed.”
The duke raised his brow. “But that’s some of your best holdings. It also occupies most of the waterway your livestock require to drink from. I wouldn’t think you would wish to sell, for that reason alone.”
It was true. Callum was losing some of his best land, but when needs must. And those words couldn’t be any truer than they were right now. “I know it’s prized farming land, but I must sell, and since you’re my neighbor and will be impacted by whoever purchases it, I thought it only right I should give you the first offer. Should you not wish to buy, I will have my man of business advertise and see if any bids are received.”
The leather creaked as the duke sat back in his chair, his fingers steepled before his nose. “Well, I must thank you for the offer and, of course, I’m willing to purchase the land at an agreed price. But I am sorry that matters have come to such a point that this is what you’re made to do.”
Callum breathed a sigh of relief and smiled, the weight of his lack of funds dwindling somewhat upon his shoulders. “The estate will still be profitable even a hundred acres short and with the sale of this parcel of land, Kester House will be a step closer to solvent.”
“Before we settle this matter,” the duke said, frowning, “and please, with what I’m about to propose I mean no disrespect. I’m merely suggesting this as your friend, but perhaps, I could loan you the funds. Would you be open to such an arrangement? You would be required to pay the amount back, of course, and with interest, but I will match the interest rate of whatever financial lender has offered you, and it’ll at least allow you to keep what the estate has owned for years.”
As tempting as the offer was, and generous of the duke, it was not something Callum could agree to. He wanted to make this transaction a legal one where he’d not stolen to gain the money that would be the outcome to it. “No!” he said, a little too forcefully. Callum cleared his throat and tried to sound reasonable. “Thank you for the kind offer, Your Grace, but I do not wish to be beholden to anyone, if I don’t have to be. I’m sure, as a fellow gentleman, you can understand.”
The duke nodded. “I do and, of course, the decision is yours, but I wonder what your grandmother would think of you selling off the estate. She’s not known in Society for her kind heart, if I may be so bold.”
That was too true, and Callum, more than most, knew how hard and unforgiving she could be. After his mother had married a man not befitting the family name or connections, his grandmother had cut her daughter from the family. Refused to acknowledge her daughter even after she’d borne the old tyrant her first grandson. His selling of the parcel of land would no doubt bring forth either a visit in person, to include a setdown, or a very tersely worded letter.
“I stopped caring what my grandparent thought or did a long time ago. The dowager countess ha
s no say in this,” Callum said, meeting the duke’s inquisitive stare.
“You may tell me to mind my own business, but is it true that your father was a lawyer, and that your mother married him without the family’s permission?”
Callum nodded. “It is true, and my upbringing was not as affluent as it may have been had my mother stayed in the bosom of the family, but it was a comfortable childhood, full of love and support. More than what my cousin, the late viscount, endured. As you well know.”
The duke leaned back in his chair. “Too true. They allowed the late viscount Arndel to live without censure, which undoubtedly led to his early demise and a legacy you now have to repair as best you can.”
And a terrible legacy it was, with a crippling debt he’d rather not have inherited. Worse than even the duke could ever imagine. “Which is why I must act and do all that I can to ensure its survival.”
“I commend you for it. And do remember, until the papers are signed, the offer of a loan is on the table.” The luncheon gong sounded somewhere deep in the recesses of the home and the duke stood. “You’re more than welcome to stay for lunch. We can continue this discussion after the repast, if you wish.”
Callum stilled at the thought of seeing Lady Alice again, of being but a few feet across a mahogany table after their interlude the day before. To speak with her so soon, to give her the ability to study him at length had its own problems, some of which had nothing to do with him thieving from her, but his own nervousness about the chit. But his desire to see her again, even at the risk of discovery, overrode any common sense.
“I would welcome luncheon. Thank you, Your Grace.”
“Please, call me Worth or Duke.”
Callum frowned, knowing neither were the correct form of address. “Worth?”
“Short for Worthingham. I find being called Penworth a little too much, even if I am a duke.”
They made their way out of the library, toward the opposite side of the home and a dining room where Callum could already hear the chatter of women and laughter. His own home was always so quiet. The servants went about in silence and disturbed no one, including him. Whether it was due to his late cousin and his hardness toward the help and they thought him cut from the same abusive cloth, he’d yet to find out.