Amanda Scott (58 page)

With a sigh, she nodded and allowed him to slip her hand into the crook of his arm, wondering why it was she felt like a lamb going meekly to the slaughter.

Inside the library, Lyford took his place behind the desk and gestured toward the tapestry armchair beside it. “Sit down.”

As she obeyed, she watched him a little warily, certain now that he would not like some, at least, of what she had to tell him. “There is something you ought to know at once, sir. I ought to have told you before that I wrote to Sir Antony. You see, at first I was afraid that you might be part of whatever is going on, but I have since realized that you are not.”

He rested his elbows on the desk and pressed his fingertips together, making a tent and peering thoughtfully at her over it. “Would you mind telling me how you came to that conclusion?”

“I’m not certain. I was trying to write enough to alert Antony without giving everything away if it fell into the wrong hands, so I thought carefully about it all. I believe that whatever is happening has something to do with the shipping company, and I thought at first that that must mean you were involved, because of your long association with the company. But your uncle trusts you, and you are not a man to betray a trust.”

“You are certain of that?”

She looked at him for a long moment, then said slowly, “I am no doubt being foolish, since your uncle can have no real reason still to trust you, now that you have the abbey to look after.”

“He has every reason, but that is not important now. Tell me what you saw the other night.”

“First, you tell me if you really saw me from the library.”

“No.”

“No, you didn’t see me, or no, you won’t tell me?”

“No, I didn’t see you. Not until you had been carried by the river nearly to the lock. Seeing you then well nigh frightened me out of my wits.”

“Then you know how I felt when you grabbed me from behind!”

“You deserved to be frightened. Of all the idiotic—”

Gwenyth leaned forward in her chair. “If you want to discuss this further, Lyford, you had better not make me angry.”

“If they had seen you—”

“Who were they?”

“I saw only one of them, and his name wouldn’t mean anything to you. He’s one of my tenants. I don’t care about him or the other one, for that matter. It’s their leader I want.”

“He wasn’t there,” she said. “They talked about him. ‘The young master’ they called him, and I thought for a moment they meant you. Didn’t you hear them?”

“Only bits. I had come from the ruins. Thought I saw activity there and hoped to catch them, but they had already loaded up and gone by the time I arrived. I heard the lock opening a moment or two before I saw you, and then I wasted time trying to decide whether to risk their seeing me by jumping into the water to rescue you. I might have heard the two manning the lock sooner but for focusing all my attention on you until I saw that you were safe.” He looked hard at her for a moment.

She glared back. “Did you wish to say more, sir?”

His lips twitched, and the expression in his eyes softened. “You know very well that I’d like to say a great deal more, but you are right to remind me that it would waste time. Unless,” he added grimly as a new thought struck him, “you dare to tell me you knew beforehand that they would be there. Is that why you were in the water, Gwen—trying to sneak up on them?”

“Good gracious, no! I am not totally devoid of good sense.”

“Well, I wondered. Tell me what you did see.”

She did, pausing now and again to search her memory, trying to see everything again in her mind, to repeat to him what she had heard as she had heard it. When she had finished, he leaned back in his chair.

“Is that all, love?”

“Don’t call me that.”

“I think you will soon have to change your mind about some of your future plans,” he said gently.

“You’re demented, Lyford.”

“Perhaps,” he agreed. “Was that all?”

“Yes, except …” She frowned. “They said something about Joey Ferguson. It worried me, and I—”

“He’d better not have been hunting for his uncle’s treasure again. I warned him.”

“That’s it. Oh, not that he’s been looking again,” she added hastily when the frown returned, “although now I come to think of it, he may have done before you spoke to him. The men said he didn’t know he’d found it, which I thought was odd. He once told me he’d found nothing but a pile of barley husks in the ruins, no treasure at all. If he has found something else—”

“He hasn’t found anything else.” The way he said it made her look at him narrowly.

“You mean that’s it?”

He nodded.

“But how can that be? Barley husks!”

“That’s why I went to the ruins when I thought I saw activity there. Remember the day I tried to explain to you about customs duties and the excise tax?”

Gwenyth bit her lower lip, searching her memory. “I remember talking about it, but I don’t remember much of what you said. Something about paying two taxes and then getting some back if the goods went out of England.”

“The drawback. That’s how they work it. The company ships goods from Bristol to London that are meant to be shipped to the northern part of the Continent. The cheapest way to move those goods from Bristol is by canal to the Thames. They pass right by Molesford, and along the way the number of bales of tobacco changes. Forty bales leave Bristol, but sixty arrive in London. If anyone were to examine them all closely, they would find a number with tobacco leaves baled around barley husks and other worthless stuff. But no one can check that closely, and at the London end, once the goods are loaded and away, the drawback is paid according to the number shipped. Davies discovered certain discrepancies before he came here. My own agents had discovered similar inconsistencies, but when we double-checked, it appeared that numbers might have been misread. I thought no more about it until Davies showed up here, making it clear he thought I was part of it. I fancy I was able to convince him of his error.”

“How?” she asked.

“That isn’t important now. What is, is putting a stop to the practice. I’d have been hard put to have stopped them by myself the other night, and I’ll confess I meant only to see how they went about it, but I’ll wager we can do something next time. Did they say when the next shipment is due through here?”

She shook her head. “You are not the master they spoke of, so who is?”

“There is only one person it can be,” he said, and there was weariness and pain in his voice. “Only one other person has the authority and knows enough to have organized this.”

Gwenyth stared at him. “Your cousin Jared?”

He nodded.

“But surely he would not have killed Silas Ferguson!”

“I don’t know. I wouldn’t have thought him ruthless enough, but if he did not do it himself, he knows who did, and that’s very nearly the same thing.”

“What will you do?”

“Wait. They were forced to move the last shipment sooner than they meant to, because we came back unexpectedly. I believe they’ve moved their operation away from the ruins, so they may have some difficulties with the next one, as well.”

“Can you not send to Bristol to discover when it is due?”

“I doubt there’s time. It would not have been far behind the other, because they can’t have counted on having a great deal of time alone here. I’ll have to think about what is best to do. I don’t know whom I can trust.” He looked up as the door opened just then to admit one of the footmen. “Yes, what is it?”

“Mr. Lacy is below, my lord, and asks to see you.”

Lyford nodded and said for Gwenyth’s benefit, “One of my tenants. We visited his farm that day. You may tell him I’ll be with him directly,” he said to the footman. When the man had gone, he got to his feet. “We’ll talk again later,” he said, adding bitterly, “Who knows? Your brother may solve my problem by killing Jared over that idiotish young cousin of mine.”

G
WENYTH LEFT THE EARL
and went upstairs to change into her habit, then walked to the stables, where she found Ben Forbes talking to two of the grooms.

“You meanin’ t’ ride out, ma’am?” he asked, dismissing the others.

“I was hoping you might allow Joey to ride with me again,” she said, smiling at him. “Where is he?”

Ben’s mouth twisted into a wry grimace. “Just as well he ain’t here, ma’am, ’cause it’d be worth my place an I was ter let him ride out again wi’ ye. As it happens, he and Ned rode with Mr. Jared and Miss Beckley to play gooseberry and ter bring their horses back, ’cause they be meanin’ ter come back on the river. Joey and Ned should be home soon now, I reckon.”

Gwenyth nodded. Defeated in her plan to make sure Joey had done no more searching, she decided she didn’t really wish to ride after all, and walked down through the garden to the river instead. Traffic was light, and the weather had turned cooler, so her walk was a pleasant one. She strolled to the lock and back again, and as she neared the ruins, she looked up and saw a horseman riding toward her along the river, waving madly.

It took her a moment to realize it was Joey. He drew up before her in a flash of hooves, hanging over his mount’s neck to ask urgently, “Where be the master, m’lady?”

“Up at the house. What’s wrong, Joey? Where’s Ned? And where are Mr. Jared’s and Miss Beckley’s horses?”

“Mr. Jared, Miss Beckley, and m’lady Lyford all be on yon barge, m’lady Gwenyth! I’ve got ter get me lord!”

“Well, I’m surprised to hear that her ladyship went with them, but you knew they were going—”

“You don’t understand,” he interjected. “He’s got hisself a pistol, and there’s others aboard, bad men—men me dad said I warn’t ter go near, not never.”

Gwenyth’s stomach tightened. “Who’s got a pistol, Joey? Mr. Jared?”

“No, Mr. Powell. We passed a barge what had been pulled into a backwater, with bales o’ tobacco, and when we got ter Sir Spenser’s, Miss Pamela told ’im straightaway. Sir Spenser said they was on ’is land and ’e’d see ’em gone. Mr. Jared tried ter stop ’im, said they was bad men, but ’e wouldn’t listen. The countess were there, and ’e told ’er ter stay, but she wouldn’t neither. The barge were on the river by then, but Mr. Jared seen Mr. Powell and shouted for ’im ter come back. When ’e did, ’e ’ad a pistol and said Mr. Jared and the ladies was ter get aboard quick. They knocked Sir Spenser down when ’e tried ter stop ’em takin’ the old countess, and then they knocked Ned down too. I rode off, and run bang into Lord Tallyn. I told ’im, and ’e was mad as fire that he didn’t have his pistols by ’im. Said ’e’d foller ’em downriver, though, and said I was ter get me lord.”

“Then get him,” Gwenyth said, “and go as fast as you can, Joey. Where is Lord Tallyn now?”

The boy had begun to turn the horse, but he shouted over his shoulder, “He’s follerin’ the barge. Like ter be ’ere any minute, too.” He kicked his horse and was off.

Gwenyth peered upriver and soon saw her brother and a long narrow barge, loaded with what looked like bales of tobacco. Atop the bales sat Jared, three other men, Lady Lyford, and Pamela. She heard Pamela shriek and saw one of the men slap her.

Seeing Tallyn react but knowing him to be helpless against the armed men, Gwenyth saw also, on the other side of the river, that Big Joe Ferguson and several other scufflehunters were following the barge. How Powell thought he could succeed in getting away, she couldn’t think. There were locks ahead, after all. The thought spurred her to action, and she turned, snatched up her skirts, and ran along the beaten path as fast as she could.

She was out of breath when she reached the Molesford lock, and Nat Philps scratched his head at the sight of her.

“There’s a barge coming, Mr. Philps,” she cried. “There are three men with pistols, and they have taken Lady Lyford, Mr. Hawtrey, and Miss Beckley captive. You must stop them!”

“Pistols!” exclaimed Mr. Philps. “They’ve got pistols?”

“Please, sir, say you won’t open the gate to them. You mustn’t. We’ve got to stop them.”

“I ain’t going ter do nothing,” snapped Mr. Philps. “They can do as they likes, but ain’t no part o’ my job ter get m’self shot. You’d best get out o’ the way too, m’lady.”

“No, we can’t do that! They will open the gates themselves, as they have done before. It was they who broke your paddle that time, and they went through again only a few nights ago!”

“Then they can do it theirselves now,” declared Mr. Philps, jumping down off the catwalk that ran along the top of the swing gate. A moment later he had disappeared from sight, and Gwenyth could see the barge coming around the bend. There was little time to think, but a sudden memory of the first time she had watched the lock, when Lyford and Jared had explained how the locks worked, flashed through her mind. She had watched often enough to know how the business of opening was accomplished, and she jumped onto the catwalk to draw the lock tackle free herself.

“It might already be too late,” she muttered under her breath as she struggled with the first paddle. It wasn’t nearly so easy as it had looked. Though she pulled, the river held the thing in place. Looking up, she saw her brother riding toward her. “Hurry, Joss!” she shouted. “I can’t do it alone.”

“What the devil are you trying to do?” he demanded, flinging himself from his saddle.

“We’ve got to open the gate!”

“The devil we do! We’ve got to stop them. Come down from there at once.”

She bit her lip in exasperation, trying to think of a way to convince him swiftly enough to help her, but then, seeing Lyford behind him, pounding along the ride on Joey’s horse, she sighed with relief. “Lyford, help me!” she yelled when he was near enough to hear her. “If we can open it soon enough … No, Joss!”

Tallyn had reached her and was trying to pull her off the catwalk. “Get down, you idiot,” he snapped. “They’ll shoot!”

Lyford hauled him unceremoniously out of the way and leapt onto the catwalk beside Gwenyth, grabbing paddles and beams and pulling them free of the frame. When he signed to her, Gwenyth released the latch, and moments later the catwalk, which was counterbalanced, swung back on the pivot post set into the riverbank, carrying the two of them with it. Lyford jumped to the ground and lifted her down beside him.