Chapter Twenty-Six
Deo was on edge. The waiting was unbearable.
Deo, the duke, Emrys, and Kenrick, waited in the lee of the ruins with Kingsley, the magistrate.
The ladies, of course, had wanted to be involved, but had been confined to the drawing room—the gentlemen had been unanimous and adamant on that point.
The last thing Deo needed was to be worried about where Em was and whether she was in danger.
While he didn’t believe Bidenden was an inherently violent man, he did think he was a desperate one.
And desperate men could do unpredictable things.
Emily’s parents were asleep and would hopefully be none the wiser as to what transpired that night.
As it was almost pitch black, the cloud cover obscuring the moon and stars, there was no danger of their quarry seeing them.
Several of the duke’s men, along with Kenrick, were scattered in a ring around the mound out of sight.
If Bidenden made a run for it, he would be cut off, whichever direction he chose.
The magistrate had counselled them to wait until the accused had the treasures in his hands before revealing themselves. As the items were found on the duke’s property, he was technically the owner and would bring the charges.
Deo’s role was to identify the contents of the cloth wrappings as being the stolen items and vouch for their value.
Emrys was to act as a witness.
Deo’s nerves were stretched to breaking point by the time a figure carrying a lamp emerged from the trees bordering the open field in which the site was situated and began walking toward the mound.
As everything was shrouded in shadow, the lamplight stood out like a beacon as it bobbed along, flashes of the figure holding it illuminated by its glow.
The air was crisp and cool, a light breeze was rising, and the clouds promised rain before dawn, although they had been fortunate that so far it had held off.
The figure drew closer. He was wearing an overcoat, and his face was obscured by his hat.
He reached the mound, and looking about with the lamp held high, he located the pile of tools.
After collecting a spade, he moved around the side of the mound to the pile near the tree.
Deo’s heart thudded hard in his chest as he watched the man begin to dig through the pile of dirt.
It only took a few moments. He bent and pulled a sack free of the dirt and shook the debris off of it—that was what Deo had felt when he put his hand into the hole.
He set it aside and began to scrape and shovel the dirt back into a pile.
A signal from the magistrate indicated that they should begin to move.
Emerging from the ruins, they moved quietly toward their quarry.
If he looked up, he might see them as moving shadows.
But they had the advantage of being able to see him quite clearly because of the lamp at his feet, whereas they were in darkness.
As Bidenden was engrossed in what he was doing, he appeared oblivious to danger until Deo’s foot came down on a twig which cracked. It was enough to cause Bidenden to look up and around. Deo froze and assumed his compatriots did likewise. He couldn’t see them in the darkness.
Bidenden returned to shoveling dirt quickly into place.
Then he bent to pick up the sack and with that in one hand and the lamp and shovel in the other, he skirted the mound back to the place where the tools were lying.
He put the shovel back and lifted the sack over his shoulder.
With the lamp in hand, he struck out in the direction he had approached from.
Deo broke into a run at this point to intercept him, heedless now of giving away his position.
As if sensing something—or perhaps Deo made more noise than he knew, as his heart was thudding hard in his ears, making it difficult to discern sounds—Bidenden looked around in alarm and then broke into a run.
“Stop, thief!” bellowed the magistrate.
Bidenden tossed the lamp and ran. In the pitch darkness, Deo blinked and cursed, trying to work out if Bidenden was still heading toward the trees or had hared off in a different direction.
Deciding the trees were still the safest bet, he stuck to that course and was rewarded moments later by colliding with the other man.
Bidenden struck out at him with a wild swing of his fist which connected with Deo’s jaw as he bent forward to tackle Bidenden to the ground.
With the speed of his forward trajectory and his weight, he brought the more lightly built man down easily and landed on top of him as his head spun from the blow.
Bidenden wriggled beneath him, gasping and grunting, and Deo levered himself up and dealt him a blow to the jaw that knocked him unconscious.
Deo clambered to his feet as the duke and Emrys came up to him, followed by the lumbering magistrate, who was puffing hard. Emrys had stopped to collect the lamp, and by its light, they inspected the prostrate body of Lord Bidenden at their feet.
“That him?” asked the magistrate.
“Yes,” rasped Deo, shaking his own head to clear it and bending to retrieve the sack.
Emrys bent to check Bidenden’s pulse in his neck just as the other man came round. He groaned and blinked up at them. Then, looking around at the sack clutched in Deo’s hands, he groaned again.
Kenrick, who had been stationed in the trees, appeared just then and bent over him.
“Why?” he asked simply.
Bidenden fought to his elbows and shook his head as if clearing it. Before he could answer, the magistrate stepped forward and addressed Deo. “Can you verify the contents of the sack, my lord?”
Deo crouched down and opened the sack as Emrys held the lamp up so that he could see the contents.
“Yes, these are the stolen items.” He put a hand in and felt around for the smaller pieces and withdrew a small cloth-wrapped bundle and unwrapped it carefully.
The cross lay in his palm, glinting in the lamp light.
Kingsley turned his attention to Bidenden. “You, sir, are under arrest, for the theft of property belonging to the Duke of Troubridge.”
Bidenden closed his eyes. Kenrick put out a hand to clasp his arm and haul him to his feet and repeated his earlier question. “Why?”
Bidenden swallowed. “The usual reason. Money. My father cut me off some months ago.” He smiled but it wasn’t a happy one. “I planned to sell the items to him for an exorbitant sum anonymously through a broker. It seemed like poetic justice to me.”
“Well, you can be as poetic as you like in jail,” said the magistrate, clearly unimpressed.
Bidenden ignored him, and addressed himself to the duke.
“Your Grace, I am guilty of the worst possible trespass on your hospitality, for which there is no excuse beyond desperation and the addled state of a brokenhearted man. I realize the hope is slim, but I beg you for clemency. You have the items back, no harm done. Might you see your way clear to dropping the charges?”
Deo’s blood pressure went up. The gall of the man!
Before he could say anything, the duke said, “I’m within my rights to bring the full strength of the law against you, Bidenden.
” Bidenden went white, visible even in the poor light.
“But I think I may have a worse punishment than that for you, which will serve our interests better.
“You can cool your heels in our cellar for a few days while I write to your father. I’m sure he will devise a suitable punishment for you.
Equally, I am sure he won’t want it known that his son is a common thief.
As a consequence, none of the events that have transpired here in the past few weeks will be known outside of this group. Will they?”
The duke’s tone made Bidenden swallow visibly.
After a moment, the man said, “I could almost wish to stand trial in preference to facing my father’s wrath, except I am afraid I might hang, and I’ve no wish to die.
I understand you perfectly, Your Grace. No word of what has transpired here shall ever pass my lips, beyond what I may have to say of necessity to my sire.
He will no doubt fashion, as you have so astutely concluded, a fitting punishment for my crime.
” He bowed. “I thank you for your—mercy.” He grimaced as he said it.
“Am I to understand, Your Grace, that you do not wish to press charges against this gentleman?”
“You are, Kingsley,” said the duke, and he took him aside, no doubt to offer some inducement to soothe the man’s ire at being dragged out of bed for nothing and to keep his mouth shut.
Deo wasn’t sure how he felt about Robert’s decision not to press charges against Bidenden.
But he understood the reason for it and most of it had to do with protecting Emily’s reputation and Deo’s own, for which he could not but be grateful.
And he was in the right of it in regard to Malmsbury’s ability to make his son suffer to an extraordinary degree.
Deo knew from personal experience how cruel a father could be to a son.
He could almost feel sorry for Bidenden.