Come the Night (The Dangerous Delameres - Book 1) (22 page)

Luc moved to the farther man. As he did so, a branch snagged his mask. He cursed softly, ran a finger beneath the fine silk to free it, then went still as the fabric came loose and pooled around his neck.

A chiseled nose and bronze skin gleamed in the moonlight. “I hope you’re a man who can keep a secret.”

For a long time Tinker merely stared at the highwayman. Something sharp and swift came and went in his old gray eyes. Then he nodded. “Happen I can if I want to. Or if I need to.”

“Good.” Luc looked down at the man at his feet. “I fancy I know a way we might avoid any extra unpleasantness.”

“Do you, now? And why am I not surprised to hear that?”

Luc’s eyes glittered. “A man picks up odd skills in my line of work.”

“Let’s be about it, then.”

As Luc moved through the moon-silvered bushes, through the night air rich with lavender and the sweetness of alba roses, he slanted a look at Tinker. “And about your question, my intentions are honorable. As honorable as they’ve ever been. There’s nothing between Silver and me,” he said grimly. “Nor will there
ever
be. She’s not the sort for my world and I’m not the sort for hers.”

Tinker nodded. But as they moved off into the night, hauling their burdens behind them through the rich, dark earth, the old man’s face looked as if he wasn’t so sure about that.

“What’s
keeping
the two of them so long?” Silver paced the immaculate workroom. Lantern light gleamed warm and rich off the copper distilling oven and the polished oak floor. On the far wall moonlight slid through the tall windows.

“They’re busy, Syl. They’ve got work to do.” Bram, as usual, had his nose buried in a scientific treatise.

“They should have been back ages ago.” Silver turned and paced back the way she’d just come. “Not that
I
care. They’re both insufferable meddlers. I wouldn’t mind a whit if they
never
came back.”

Bram looked up, absorbing this wealth of new information about female behavior. In the past his sister had been unflaggingly cheerful, unfailingly practical. He had loved her, admired her, respected her, ever since he could remember.

And now in a matter of hours she was restless and impatient, showing lapses of thought and jagged bursts of emotion.
Especially
when the intriguing highwayman was about.

Most interesting, Bram decided. He would have to make a new entry in his notebook:
Effects of Profound Emotion on the Adult Female
. “I understand that he put a pistol ball through a fellow down in King’s Lynn. Robbed two jewelry establishments on the same night.”

Silver spun about, her face as pale as the moonlight ghosting through the windows. “He
didn’t
!
I don’t believe it, not a word of it.” Her hands tensed at her waist. “It’s just talk. All odious talk!”

Repentant, Bram crossed over to put his arm about her shoulders. They were stiff and very cold. “Of course it is, Syl. Stupid of me to bring it up. He’s a devilish right sort of fellow if you ask me.”

“Do you think so, Bram?” Her eyes were wide, the color of the first spring rose shoots. “Do you really?”

“Haven’t a doubt of it,” the boy said cheerfully, patting his sister’s shoulders.

Yes, this whole business was all vastly interesting, Bram decided. He made a mental note to expand the entry in his notebook to an entire section.

~ ~ ~

Across the valley ghastly screams pierced the night air.

“Answer me, you dog! Exactly what I want to know or I’ll hit you again.”

Another moan.

“Do you want me to break the other arm too?”

A foot way from Luc, Tinker knelt on the ground, flanked by an opened door that led down to Lavender Close’s underground icehouse. A good place to store ice, it was also a good place to hold three men who might otherwise pose a security problem. Now only one man was aboveground, lying bound and gagged at Luc’s feet, still unconscious.

But it was Tinker who leaned close to the door and hurled more blood-curdling screams down into the darkness.

“Not bad,” Luc said, too softly for the men below to hear. “Especially not for a man so gone in years.”

“Not bad yourself, highwayman. But you’d best watch your tongue or I’ll show you just how
old
I am.”

“Noted.” Luc dropped a stone to the ground with a
thunk.
His voice rose in a dramatic shout.
“Now
are you going to talk, scum?”

Tinker groaned right on cue. “Don’t know nothing! Never told me nothing. Ask them what’s down
there.”
More groans. “They was the ones as hired me.”

“I think I shall do just that. But not until I’ve broken your other arm. Just for the fun of it.” This time the stone fell on a branch, producing a ghastly snap.

Tinker produced a very realistic shout of agony.

“Try not to bleed all over me, will you? Now I think I’ll go have a few words with your friends.”

Before Luc had set one foot on the stairs two voices shouted up from the darkness. “We’ll talk! Didn’t pay to get ourselves broken up in pieces. Tell yer whatever yer want to bloody know!”

Luc held up the lantern. He had replaced his mask and his mouth was hard beneath it. “Three questions. Who paid you? Why? And what exactly did he want done here?”

Scuffling sounds came from the darkness. “Didn’t see his face. Said as h-how he wanted them off, the girl and the boy. The old man too. Said he had something he had to do here. Don’t know why, Guv. He didn’t say and we didn’t ask.”

Luc made a clicking sound. “Not good enough, gentlemen.”

“It’s true, honest! Ain’t it, Mr. Harper?”

“All of it. Every bleedin’ word! I swear on m’ old mum’s heart.”

“If you ever had a mother.” Luc held up the lantern, and light cut through the darkness. As he did, another dramatic groan came from aboveground, punctuating the silence. Luc caught back a smile at Tinker’s enthusiasm. “How did he find you?”

“Across the fens. The Green Man, it were. Publican there knows us.”

“I’ll just bet he does,” Luc said grimly. “And how were you to contact this man afterward, when the job was done?”

“Same way. At the Green Man. He were to pay us our wages there.”

There was nothing more to be gotten from the villains, Luc decided. Whoever had hired them had been careful to cover his tracks. Frowning, he climbed up the steps and started to close the heavy door.

“What’re ye doing? Let us outter here! We told ye what yer wanted to know, didn’t we?”

“Ah, but maybe you’ll think of something more by the time I come back for you.
If
I come back for you.” Laughing harshly, Luc dropped the heavy wooden door back into place and slid the bolt home. In a few more hours he would come see if they’d “remembered” anything else. In the meantime he wanted them locked up somewhere safe. When the one on the ground woke up, he’d be put in with his friends.

Tinker gave Luc a hard look. “Happen I’ve a mind to visit the Green Man. Mebbe you’d care to come along.”

Luc stared out at the night. All was silent except for the soft sigh of the wind and the faint cry of a kestrel far across the valley. The air was lush with a dozen scents. He filled his lungs, picking out lavender, roses, and jasmine.

Every one made him think of Silver, of her white face and worried eyes, of the red welt at her forehead.

The small branch he’d been holding snapped cleanly beneath his fingers. “No, not yet. Tonight we’ll do best to keep watch here. There could be more like them on their way. I’ll go over to the Green Man tomorrow and have a little talk with the publican.”

“Why?” Tinker’s eyes were very sharp. “It’s not your affair, highwayman. Or do you have another name I should call you?”

“You can call me … Luc. And it might just be my real name.”

“Luc.” Tinker eased his mouth around the word. “Any last name to go with it?”

“I might be reckless, but I’m not yet a complete fool.” Luc’s lopsided smile softened the blow.

“Understandable, I suppose. Luc it is, then. But I’m still wanting to know why you’re taking such an interest in this affair.”

Luc took a slow lungful of air. “That fragrance, was it called Millefleurs?”

Tinker nodded.

“I remember it. My mother bought some once. It came in a crystal bottle with a lily on the top. A long time ago, but I still remember the scent. Sweet and honest and very beautiful. It reminds me of this place. And of Silver.”

Tinker studied the flower-decked hills, thinking about all the work that went into making even one bottle of fine fragrance. About all the hours of hoeing, watering, and weeding, followed by the toil of harvesting and distilling. Last of all came the blending of the final essential oils, which was the hardest part of all.

With the loss of William St. Clair’s priceless formula, that final step could never be completed.

“Aye, Millefleurs was that sort of scent. You could never forget it. That was William St. Clair’s genius.” He sighed. “Bloody shame it’s gone. Now are you going to tell me
why?”

Luc stared out at the silvered fields, asking himself the same question. He took a long breath. “Maybe because that woman in the cottage is clean and fresh and bright, just like these fields of hers. Maybe because she makes
me
feel that way whenever I’m around her. Maybe because it’s the right thing to do.” He shrugged. “Hell if I know.”

“Obviously besotted,” Tinker muttered. But he was careful to say it low enough that Luc couldn’t hear.

The grizzled old servant was smiling broadly as the two men started up the trail to the wisteria-covered cottage overlooking the valley.

~ ~ ~

Silver sat on a sack of dried rosemary, fighting to stay awake. Bram was curled against her right shoulder, book forgotten and lost to the world. Without his spectacles he looked half his age.

Silver straightened, her eyes dark with worry and a hundred unasked questions as Luc and Tinker strode in.