Chapter 50
Chapter Fifty
Harry let out a breath. ‘I don’t think he’s coming,’ he whispered, shifting his weight. They had been secreted behind barrels in the chaff room for a couple of hours and were both stiff and cold.
‘Shh,’ Sebastian responded, stiffening as, over the familiar sound of the horses moving restlessly in their stalls, he heard booted feet on the cobbled floor of the stable.
Harry nodded and raised his pistol.
They had left the door to the feed room ajar and it squeaked on its hinges as an unseen hand pushed it back. In the dark, Sebastian glanced at Harry and laid a hand on his sleeve. He had been expecting only Freddy but three figures entered the room.
Freddy’s man, Jenkins, the large, silent man whom Bennet uncharitably referred to as ‘the dumb ox’, set a lantern down on the table, illuminating the room and the faces of the other two men, Freddy and Matt.
Seeing his brother, it was all Sebastian could do not to let out an audible groan.
What in God’s name was Matt doing with them?
His orders to Matt had been only to engage Freddy in cards and a few drinks.
He had been quite explicit that Matt was not to get any further involved.
Insubordinate brothers, he thought, grinding his teeth.
He had counted on Freddy coming alone and he did not need his inebriated brother caught up in this matter, nor, for that matter, Jenkins. Why would Freddy have brought a witnesses? He could have slipped into the stables unseen and dealt with the incriminating evidence without anyone knowing.
Matt looked around the room. ‘So, which bin do you think it’s in?’ he asked, his words slurring.
Freddy gestured at the chaff bin furthest from the door.
‘Start there, Jenkins,’ he directed his man.
Freddy was no fool. He would have worked out that anything concealed in the more convenient bins would have been easily discovered.
The big man shambled over to the bin and Sebastian heard the soft rustle of the chaff as Jenkins rummaged in its depths.
Finding nothing, he moved to the second bin and gave a grunt of satisfaction as his questing hand found the sack.
Freddy looked down at the hessian bundle Jenkins thumped onto the table. When he pulled the sacking away to reveal an old, battered saddle, he swore.
‘Wassa matter?’ Matt asked.
Sebastian stepped out of the shadows, his pistol held steady in his hand and pointed straight at Freddy.
‘Found what you were looking for?’
Freddy whirled to face him. The light from the lantern cast his fine features into a hard relief and Sebastian could almost see his mind grappling for a logical explanation for his actions.
‘Your brother thought it would be a lark to find the saddle,’ Freddy said in a light tone. He gestured at the saddle on the table, ‘I hate to disappoint you, Somerton, but that’s not Anthony’s saddle.’
‘That’s because the saddle I found has been secured elsewhere,’ Sebastian said.
‘Now who’s playing games,’ Freddy said with a laugh. ‘I wouldn’t have thought hide and seek was in your nature, Somerton. Now, do be a sport and put that weapon down. What is so special about an old saddle anyway?’
‘The interesting thing about the saddle I found is the fact that the girth was cut through. Not enough to snap immediately but enough to fail when put under strain, such as taking a fence. Of course, a sharp-eyed groom would notice the cut, but apparently the distressed widow gave an order for the saddle to be destroyed on the morning of Anthony’s death before it could be inspected. ’
‘Dear me! Are you suggesting our dear Isabel cut the girth?’ Freddy ventured.
‘I think that is what the killer would have liked the curious to think, except that the order relayed to the stable hand came from you, Freddy, not Isabel.’
‘Of course it did. She was too distressed to deal with so trivial a matter, so she asked me to relay her orders. I would be prepared to swear to that.’
‘Your word against hers?’
‘If you are implying that Anthony’s death was foul play then dear Isabel had more motivation than anyone else in the house to want Anthony dead.’ Freddy sounded more confident as the conversation progressed.
Sebastian shook his head. ‘However abominably Anthony may have treated her, she’s no killer and, in a court of law, it would be her word against a proven imposter, blackmailer and card cheat.’
‘Bas? Whatcha talkin’ about?’ Matt interposed.
‘Get out of here, Matt. This has nothing to do with you,’ Sebastian said, not letting his eyes, or his aim, leave Freddy.
Matthew uttered a short exclamation, his eyes widening in surprise. ‘I don’t think I can,’ he said, his voice high and the words no longer slurred.
Freddy smiled and Sebastian let his gaze move to Matthew. Jenkins stood behind his brother with a knife at his throat.
‘Drop your pistol, Somerton,’ Freddy suggested. ‘Oh, and Dempster, I think you should probably get out here too. I’m certain Lord Somerton did not come alone. That is why I brought my own insurance with me.’
The knife tightened on Matt’s throat, drawing blood. Matt yelped.
Behind Sebastian, Harry uttered a violent oath and stepped out into the light, laying his pistols on the barrels.
Freddy took a step back out of the immediate light thrown by the lantern. His hand slid beneath his jacket and withdrew holding a pistol.
‘I was afraid this would happen. It seems, Jenkins, that my plans may have gone a little awry.’
Jenkins gave an interrogative grunt and Freddy waved his pistol at Sebastian and Harry.
‘You two, I want you face down on the ground with your hands behind your back. Jenkins, you can pass that idiot boy over here while you tie these two up.’
When neither Sebastian nor Harry moved, Freddy glanced at Jenkins.
‘If you don’t start doing as I ask, my man here will start making your brother’s life extremely unpleasant. He knows how to kill a man slowly.’
In answer, Jenkins moved the knife to Matthew’s ear, cutting a nick. Matt gave a sharp cry and squirmed in the man’s grasp as the wound began to bleed, staining the pristine white linen of his neckcloth with bright blood.
Sebastian and Harry complied. From the supine position Sebastian found himself in, all he could see of Matt were his booted feet, stumbling across the floor as Jenkins dragged the young man across to Freddy.
Jenkins set about his work quickly and effectively, securing Sebastian’s wrists behind his back and then his ankles.
To make certain there was no risk of escape, he ran a rope between Sebastian’s wrists and ankles, forcing his knees to bend into an agonising position.
While Jenkins secured Harry, Sebastian rolled onto his side to relieve the cramp in his limbs and to give him a better view of Freddy.
Freddy held his pistol to Matt’s temple and, even in the dim light, Sebastian could see the sweat on his brother’s forehead and the fear in his eyes.
‘Why did you kill Anthony?’ Sebastian tried to keep his voice level and neutral as if lying trussed on a dusty floor was of no consequence to him.
Freddy gave a theatrical heave of his shoulders. ‘I didn’t intend for him to die, just come off the blasted horse and break his leg.’
‘That doesn’t answer my question.’
Freddy gnawed his lower lip for a moment before replying, ‘The bastard had stopped paying me.’
‘Why?’
Freddy gave a snort of derision. ‘Said he had run out of money. Told me he had invested everything he had in some gold mine, and it had been a fraud. He said he didn’t care what happened to him anymore. Told me to do my worst.’ Freddy laughed. ‘Not sure he anticipated what my worst could be.’
Jenkins grunted to signify he had secured the two men.
Freddy’s voice became clipped and efficient as he issued his orders.
‘Excellent. I regret we are going to have to take leave of your generous hospitality, Somerton. Pity to disappoint Fanny. She had such high hopes of a happy marriage. Jenkins, the small coach and the bays are stabled at the dower house. Go and hitch them up.’
Jenkins gave a low growl and stomped out of the room.
‘Excellent man, Jenkins. I found him in London and saw his value at once. He had his tongue cut out for some misdemeanour to his lord and master. You are an upstart, Somerton. You have no idea of your place in this world. You wouldn’t have the guts to cut out a man’s tongue for talking back to you. ’
‘You’re right, Lynch, I wouldn’t. But don’t mistake me, I have killed men without compunction.’
For the first time, the smile left Freddy’s face, and he pushed the pistol harder into Matt’s temple.
‘And so have I. Now, what am I going to do with the three of you?’
‘Let my brother go, Freddy. This has nothing to do with him.’
In answer, Freddy pushed Matt to his knees, keeping the pistol at the back of his head.
‘Who are you?’ Sebastian asked, desperate to keep Freddy talking.
Freddy shook his head. ‘If you are so curious, Somerton, my father was a farrier in Bristol. My mother died in childbirth, and my father drank himself into an early grave. Fan and I were left on our own. Let’s just say I worked my way up from the gutter where he left us.’
‘How much does Fanny know?’
His mouth worked as he framed his answer. ‘I love my sister and she deserved a better life than that she was born into.’
‘It was all for Fanny?’
Freddy didn’t answer and, for a moment, Sebastian almost believed that Freddy’s motives were born purely out of love for his sister, and then he remembered the card party and the well-honed team that guaranteed Freddy’s wins.
The petty thievery had probably netted the Lynchs a tidy sum over the years.
Fanny had been no innocent in Freddy’s plans and schemes.
Freddy tossed his head. ‘This is so annoying! It all started with that silly unpleasantness over the Thompson girl. He blamed me for that. Can you credit that?’
‘Did you kill her?’ Sebastian’s blood ran cold.
‘No.’ Freddy sounded indignant. ‘I told you I had nothing to do with her death, but, for some reason, Anthony seemed to think I did. As if I would succumb to the charms of a servant girl. I blame Isabel. Anthony was besotted with the infant, and, as for his fawning over Isabel, really it was all too distracting. Then he had the gall to threaten to expose Fanny and me as imposters and, most hurtful, blackmailers.’
‘Does Isabel know any of this?’
‘Of course not, but he was going to tell her. He told me so himself that day. Said he wanted us out of the house by the next morning. So you see, Somerton, he had to be punished, and he made it so easy. That night, he rode over to see Lady Kendall. All I had to do was follow him. I found he’d left his horse saddled in a deserted stable.
I cut through the girth and slipped away—’ Freddy stiffened and swung his pistol to the door.
‘Who’s there? Come out and show yourself or Alder dies. ’
‘Don’t hurt me!’ A small, very young voice came from the doorway, and young Peter Thompson took a small step into the room.
‘The wretched boy I gave the order to,’ Freddy snapped. ‘It was you, wasn’t it, you little urchin. You decided to keep the saddle?’
Peter’s lips trembled as he nodded his head. With Freddy distracted, Matt took the opportunity to lash out jerking his elbow back into Freddy’s knee. The pistol discharged with a blinding flash as Matt rolled away from Freddy and made a bolt for the door where the petrified boy stood.
Freddy gave a cry of anger and produced a second pistol from his jacket. Before Sebastian could shout a warning, the pistol discharged. Matt gave a sharp cry and fell forward onto the ground.
Freddy reached the door in a bound, seizing Peter by the scruff of his neck. He kicked at Matt’s prone body and relief flooded Sebastian as he heard his brother groan.
Looking back at the two bound men, Freddy shook his head.
‘Why did you have to make this so difficult?’ he complained, raising his eyes to the ceiling. ‘Now I suppose I should get out of here before the whole household descends on us. You ...’ he kicked Matt again.
Matt rolled over and pulled himself into a sitting position, clutching his right arm. Freddy jerked his head in the direction of Harry and Sebastian.
‘Over there with the others.’
Matt complied, dragging himself across the floor until he sat with his back against the chaff bins.
Peter Thompson began to cry as Freddy’s fingers tightened on his shoulder.
‘Sorry, my lord. I was just checking on Millie and the foal when I heard voices. This is all my fault.’
‘No, it’s not, Peter,’ Sebastian said.
Freddy looked around the room, his gaze lighting on the three men. A nasty smile curled the corners of his mouth. His grip firmly on Peter’s arm, he walked over to the lantern that still burned on the table, collected the discarded pistols and picked up the lantern.
‘Good evening to you, gentlemen.’
Propelling Peter before him, he left the room, shutting the door behind him. In the silence, Sebastian heard a key turn in the lock. He held his breath at the sound of rustling hay on the other side of the door. Freddy laughed. A chilling sound in the dark silence.
Harry spoke first. ‘Can you smell smoke?’