Knight sat opposite Louisa, regretting he could not be nearer her. He suspected Hannah had figured out something had happened between them, though he could not fathom how. Neither of them had given anything away and now was not the time. He still wished he could at least have her nearby. The gap of a mere few feet between them was already too much.
But Abigail needed Louisa more than he did. Her hands trembled as she clasped them in her lap, and she kept her gaze fixed outside while they made the short journey to Nate’s country home. Red’s brother greeted them from the doorstep, accompanied by his wife, who wore her usual masculine wear. Knight never quite understood how it was the man had charmed Patience, who was not the type to fall for a rake at all, but he’d never seen Nate happier.
“Damn it, Knight, must you take up all the room?” Nate grumbled when he squeezed onto the seat next to him.
Knight ignored him.
“You could always remain at home, Nate,” his wife suggested, a smile playing on her lips. “And let the rest of us manage this.”
“And miss out on the excitement? Never.” Nate’s smile dropped when his gaze landed on Abigail. He leaned forward. “I vow he will never touch you or your children again, Mrs. Stanton. You are doing a fine thing. Not many women would have as much courage.”
Abigail’s tense expression softened. “Thank you,” she murmured.
Knight had no idea how Nate did it but the man had such an innate way of charming women. As apprehensive as she was, Abigail already looked more relaxed.
It took mere minutes for the carriage to make it through the village and up the hill to the inn. Knight tried his best to give a reassuring look to Louisa, but she did not seem to register it. He balled a fist. Whatever happened, he’d get that bastard out of her inn and send him on his way—even if he had to use force. If it were up to him, he’d be using force regardless, but Louisa did not want to upset Abigail any further.
“Ready?” Red asked Abigail once the carriage had drawn to a halt outside the inn.
Abigail nodded, her chin wobbling slightly. Knight remained close to Louisa’s side as she drew up her shoulders. Tension riddled her body, and he longed to draw her into him and soothe away her worries. If no one else were around, he would be telling her that he’d do whatever was needed to return the inn to her and have Stanton kicked out on his arse.
He settled for loosening his cuffs and giving Nate a nod. If anything happened, he could rely on Nate and Red to do what must be done.
Inside, the air was thick and musty. Dirt smeared the floor and it was sticky underfoot. He heard Louisa draw in a sharp breath at the state of the place. Usually the taproom was filled with patrons but there was only a lone man sitting by the empty fire. Behind the bar, Julianna glanced up and her husband Drake hastened over.
Drake grimaced. “Julianna has been trying to keep everything running, Louisa. Most people refused to work for him. Sorry about the mess.” He looked to Knight. “And I’ve been making certain he doesn’t go near Julianna.”
From Drake’s dark look, it appeared Stanton had not been behaving any better than his friends at home.
Louisa scanned the room, lips parted. She nodded slowly and lifted her chin. “Where is he?”
Drake thrust a thumb behind him. “He’s been drinking most of what you have since he got here.”
Knight peered around Drake to eye the man. Chair leaning back against the wall, his feet were atop the table, his eyes closed. Jaw tense, Knight took a step forward, but Louisa thrust an arm out.
“I shall talk to him.” She motioned to Abigail. “You can stay here, if you prefer? He only needs to see that we know the truth.”
Throat working, Abigail nodded.
Louisa strode over to Stanton and coughed, arms folded across her chest. He didn’t stir, so she gave his feet a shove, knocking them from the table and jolting him awake.
“What the bloody—” His scowl vanished and a grin spread across a handsome but stubbled face. “Oh, you are back. Well, you’re too late, Mrs. Carter. I gave you ample time and you vanished. The inn is now mine.”
“That would be true, if you were indeed my stepson. Which you are not.”
“I have the deeds. And the letter,” he reminded her.
Aware of his heart beating hard in his chest, Knight concentrated on drawing in deep breaths. All he needed was one thing—one wrong move and he’d be on the bastard in a trice.
Louisa stepped to one side and motioned to Abigail. “We have your wife.” She pressed her hands to the table and leaned over him. “I know who you are, Stanton. Your claim will never stand up.”
“You can’t prove a thing!” He rushed to stand, knocking into the table and sending the glasses on the table clattering. One smashed on the floor, the sound vibrating through the air until it reached Knight.
“Damn it.” Knight wasn’t standing back any longer. Striding over, he came to Louisa’s side and drew her away from the carnage.
Stanton thrust a finger at Knight as Drake, Red, and Nate gathered around him. “This is mine.” He slapped a hand across his chest. “Mine. And there’s nothing you can do about it. I have the deed. I have letters from Jack Carter. Now get out of my inn.”
“I’ll testify, Hugh,” came a fragile voice.
Knight turned to eye Abigail. She remained by the entrance with Julianna and Patience at her side. With the sunlight highlighting her thin frame, she appeared more vulnerable than ever, but he saw strength in her stance.
“I’ll tell them everything you did, Hugh,” Abigail declared.
“You bloody well will not.” Stanton started toward her, but Knight stepped in front of him. The drink made Stanton reckless, and he tried to shove past him, not even denying who he was. Knight pushed him back, and he landed half on a chair. He righted himself and glared up at Knight.
“What the devil—” He ran his gaze up at him. “Big, ugly bastard, ain’t you?”
“Your friends did not fare too well when they tried to keep your secret quiet.” Knight kept his voice low and threatening. It took every ounce of self-control to keep his hands off Stanton. If Abigail wasn’t here, he’d have taken him to pieces by now. “I will happily give you the same treatment.”
Stanton blinked. Several moments passed and his shoulders drooped. “Damn you, woman. Could you not let me have anything good?” He spat in the direction of Abigail.
“I think it is time for him to leave your inn, do you not think, Louisa?” Red asked.
She grinned. “I do indeed.”
Red motioned to Knight. “Knight, will you do the honors?”
“Happily.” Expression grim, Knight grabbed Stanton by the arm and hauled him toward the door.
He spluttered expletives and fought against Knight’s hold while Abigail shrunk away from him, safe in Julianna’s arms. His feeble attempts to escape made little difference, so Knight hauled him out of the door and threw him down onto the damp ground, taking a little satisfaction in the thud his body made.
“Thanks to your wife, Mrs. Carter will not be seeing you arrested. You should thank your stars for that.” Knight eyed him coldly and leaned over. “If I see you ever again, I will treat you just as your friends treated Louisa. Except there will be no one to save you. And I will take immense pleasure in it.”
Stanton hesitated before scrabbling to his feet. Knight recognized the look in his eyes—the desperation that he’d seen in too many dying men’s eyes. It usually meant they’d do something rash. Knight braced himself, but Stanton turned on his heel and hobbled up the hill until out of view.
When Knight turned back to the inn, everyone apart from Abigail and Julianna had come outside.
“He will not be back,” he assured Louisa.
“You had better claim back your inn,” Red suggested.
“And then serve a round of ales.” Drake grinned. “I have need of a drink.”
Nate shook his head. “You did nothing. Why do you need a drink?”
; Drake shrugged. “Watching that blackguard drain half of the supplies was enough to work up a thirst. Besides, I had to keep my wits about me. I’ve had nothing but coffee for the past week.”
“Everyone can have a drink on me,” Louisa declared, leading them into the inn. “Then you can all help me clean up.”
A groan rippled through the men. Knight paused to mutter to Drake. “Can your drink wait? I have a feeling Stanton will be back.”
Drake fixed him with a look. “You will owe me greatly. Want me to follow him?”
Knight nodded. That instinct itched his gut, and one thing he’d learned over the years was to never ignore his instincts.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Louisa shoved her hair from her face and surveyed the slowly improving chaos. Between them all, they had righted the furniture and cleaned up the worst of the mess. She shook her head to herself. Much longer and Hugh would have brought the inn to the point of ruin. Now that everyone except Julianna and Knight had returned home, she took a few moments to stand behind the bar and draw in the sensation of being home.
She’d have to spread the word that Hugh was gone and business would return to normal—all her usual patrons had ceased coming by the sounds of it. She could hardly wait until it was back to how it should be, despite her sore palms and throbbing feet. Her eyes were gritty from the desperate need to sleep after such a long day, but she would not be able to rest until everything was righted.
“All will be back to normal soon.” Julianna leaned against the bar in front of her. “Thank goodness. That man was vile.”
Louisa nodded. “Thank you for trying to ensure he did not do too much damage.”
“It was not fun, believe me.” Julianna chuckled. “But I made life difficult for him when I could.”
Grinning, Louisa shook her head. “I can well believe it. But should you not be going home? Especially after all the work you have done.”
Julianna lifted her shoulders. “Drake said he had to check on something so I was going to wait until he returned, but it is getting late.” She scrunched up her nose. “I should have queried him, but I forgot in all the excitement.”
“He’s probably gone to check on the ship or something.” Louisa snatched up two glasses and placed them on the bar. “Which means I think it is time for us to enjoy a drink.”
“Do not forget me.” Knight stepped in from the hallway that led up to the rooms, ducking to avoid the low beam.
“You have finally managed to get Harry to release you, I see.” Louisa smiled at the memory of the little boy clinging to Knight as soon as the children were reunited with Abigail. He’d insisted on being carried everywhere until it had been settled that Abigail and the children would stay at the inn until they could find suitable accommodation. Louisa hoped Abigail would accept a position working with her. It looked like she would need some new help after Hugh had chased off several of her staff.
“The children are sleeping now. Finally.” A tiny smile played on Knight’s lips that Louisa suspected only she would notice. “She should have stayed with Red. There’s much more room there.”
“I think you and I both know what it is like to stay somewhere you do not feel you belong.” Louisa poured a generous helping of whisky into each glass and shoved one toward Knight.
“You shall have to tell me all about your trip home, Lewis,” Julianna said. “How much debt did Father leave you?”
“Enough,” Knight muttered.
“I do not think I could have coped with returning.” His sister gave a shudder. “I’m glad you have decided to rent it out.”
“I didn’t have much choice.”
Louisa kept her lips pressed together. She doubted Julianna much cared about what happened with the estate, but there would be a few people who would question Knight’s decision. After all, how many men would return to a simple life in Cornwall after being offered such an opportunity? She smiled at him, meeting his gaze and seeing the promise there.
Regardless, she was grateful he had opted for that.
“Knight, will you bring some barrels up from the cellar before it gets too late?” Louisa asked. “I want to be ready for tomorrow.” She threw back the glass of whiskey and savored the gentle burn as it worked down her throat with a sigh. “Hopefully I shall have customers once again by then.”
“Of course.” He drained his drink and snatched one of the lanterns from the wall.
Julianna watched him go then faced Louisa. “Why did you accompany him home? You could have returned with Abigail, could you not?” Her smile grew knowing. “Did you two finally—”
A thud and something shattering upstairs made them both freeze. Louisa scowled. “It must have been one of the children.” But her fluttering heart told her otherwise. “I shall go see what’s happened.”
Julianna straightened. “I’ll go with you.”
“Tell Knight to come and find me.” Louisa swallowed. “Just in case.”
Julianna nodded. “There’s a pistol beneath the counter.” She came around and pulled it out. “Drake made me keep it loaded while Hugh was here.”
“I am sure it’s nothing.” Louisa took the pistol nonetheless. She never kept weapons in her establishment, fearing some drunkard might get hold of one. Very rarely did she need to defend herself as it was.
Cradling the weapon, she made her way upstairs. Her breaths were thick and uncomfortable. It was ridiculous. Young children were often clumsy and rambunctious. It was almost certainly one of them having knocked something over.
She tapped her knuckles on the door. The baby was crying and she heard scuffling. “Abigail?” She tried again when there was no response. Keeping the pistol tucked at her side, she pushed open the door and scanned the small room.
“Oh no.” The baby laid in the cot, red-faced and bawling. All three children were alone in the room.
“Papa,” Harry said, pointing out of the open window.
“Oh no,” Louisa repeated and peered out of the window to see two figures hastening away from the inn. The light from the downstairs windows clung to their outlines, and she saw Abigail trying to pull away from Hugh.
Grabbing her skirts, Louisa hastened downstairs only to smack into Drake’s chest as he stepped through the doorway that led upstairs. She stumbled back to view his slightly ashen face.
“What—”
“Go look after the children,” she commanded, pointing upstairs. “Go, now!”
His wide eyes flicked down to the pistol, but she didn’t wait for him to respond. Pushing past him, she barreled out of the door, heart thumping heavily in her chest. When she stumbled outside, she took a moment to search the spot in which she’d seen Hugh and Abigail. She squinted into the night. Icy shards of moonlight rippled across the bay before being hidden behind clouds. Blast, if only it were a lighter night.
Gun cradled to her chest, she ran over to where she’d seen them and stopped to scan the area. The land around the inn was barren, mounds of scrubby grass and rocks scattered the area, but there were few places to conceal a person. What little light the inn provided told her Hugh had not settled on going into hiding.
Drawing a breath in through her tight chest, she peered down the hill but gloom blanketed the area. Clouds had swallowed any remaining moonlight and the lights from the village down the hill dominated the shadowy canvas that was Penshallow. The sea stretched out from the cliffs, an ominous black expanse ready to swallow her if she made the wrong move.
She needed to think. What would Hugh do with Abigail? He clearly had no intention of giving up the inn, and she doubted he’d seized her with any intention of taking her home, so he’d want to rid himself of her as quietly as possible.
Which meant he would not take her to the village.
A salty breeze whirled around her, pressing her skirts to her legs. Bile rose in her throat. He was going to throw her into the sea. It would be the easiest way to rid himself of Abigail.
“Abigail?” she called, as she se
ttled the pistol in one hand, fingers trembling.
She hastened toward the cliff edge and her foot caught on a rock, sending her heart into her throat as she righted herself. The rush of waves beneath reminded her what fate awaited her if she stepped incorrectly. She glanced left and right and called out again.
A muffled scream came from the left. “Abigail?” Louisa followed the faint outline of the cliff edge, more cautiously this time.
Another scream. Then a very male grunt. Her gaze caught on two shadowy figures not far ahead. Louisa rushed forward as a gap in the clouds lit the area and revealed Hugh and Abigail.
“Stop!” she demanded as Hugh fought to control Abigail. She thrust the gun out, fingers shaking on the trigger. Her palms were clammy and damp against the wood, and she had to use her other hand to cradle it.
Hugh whirled around and drew Abigail hard into his chest. “I’ll kill her,” he threatened, and light glinted off a blade.
He was going to kill her regardless, Louisa had no doubt about that. But she could not shoot him while he had Abigail. Pistols were notoriously inaccurate, and she had no experience using guns.
She forced down the knot in her throat. “I’ll shoot you if you do not release her.”
“I’ll slice her neck first.”
Abigail wriggled in his hold but the blade against her neck forced her to still. “Please, Hugh,” she begged, her voice clogged. “Think of the children.”
“If you had just let this all be I would have sent you money,” he spat. “Now shut up.” He clamped a hand over her mouth.
Abigail sobbed against the hand while Louisa inched closer. “If you hurt her, I will shoot.”
“You can try.” She heard the smirk in his voice.
Darkness slipped over the cliff top as clouds flitted across the moon. Louisa cursed under her breath. Now he was but a shadow again and impossible to aim at. What was she going to do?
Chapter Twenty-Three
Sweat made Knight’s shirt stick to his back as he hefted up the last barrel and set it at the top of the stairs. Bloody woman could have left all of this until tomorrow but of course she insisted on ensuring the inn was returned to normal with haste. He smiled to himself. Damned, stubborn woman.
What's a Rogue Got To Do With It (Rogues of Redmere Book 4) Page 15