14. Jonto
Jonto
Jonto didn’t make a noisy entrance into the pub. She and Nico strode in and sat at one of the tables on the far side of the room. Working men of varied trades turned when they entered, but seeing as the two newcomers meant to do nothing more than drink, the low rumble of conversation resumed.
A few of Jonto’s sailors were seated at the bar, and when Paddy and Lucas strolled in a quarter candlemark later, they tipped their hat to Jonto as though they hadn’t arrived with their captain, pulled two empty stools close to the other members of her crew and ordered two tankards of ale.
Isla’s traitorous steward, Drake Barleycorn, and the shepherd, Beadle Wallace, were, predictably, holding court from the center of the room.
They were surrounded by working-class men who’d come in to drink away the stress of their day.
Barleycorn took a long drink from his tankard, wiped his mouth and mustache on his sleeve, and raised a knowing finger.
“I tell ya, lads, it’s good to be out from under such a flighty woman. ”
Several men nodded sagely.
“She were a nightmare, she were. I put up with it fer years a’fore I couldn’t take no more.
I loved that land, I did, nursed it through her addlebrained schemes.
” He swiveled around and addressed Jonto.
“Me’n Beadle tried to talk her off puttin’ them sheep on yer land, Milord, but…
.” He shrugged, implying they’d had no choice.
Jonto’s slow nod spoke volumes to anyone who knew her. “I understand you found a job with Lord Montfort. He paying you well, is he?”
A nervous flicker of fear shot through the man’s eyes. “Oh, aye. He were as baffled as us over how bad she runs th’ place.”
Another slow nod. Jonto never took her eyes off him. “And I understand he moved your entire family onto his estates. A bit unusual, isn’t it, for a landowner to pay to move an under-steward’s entire family, including his parents and brother, onto his land, isn’t it?”
Several men who’d happily agreed with Barleycorn when Jonto and Nico walked in blinked at him in confusion. Barleycorn noticed and stuttered, “W…well, not so strange, Milord. I’m…I’m workin’ fer him an’ all.…”
“He hired your father and brother, too, I understand. And he’s paying you nearly twice the going rate, isn’t that what I heard?
” Jonto glanced around at the men who’d gone silent, listening to what she had to say.
She privately thanked James for the intelligence he’d gathered since she never liked going into battle unprepared.
“Now, why do you suppose he’d do that, hmm? ”
One man, a burly dock worker, stepped forward. “He’s payin’ ya twice as much as what ya was gettin’ from Lady Brighton?”
Barleycorn stepped back from the big man. “No!” He nervously glanced at Jonto, who raised a single brow. “Well, yeah, but it’s ‘cause he knows I know me stuff.”
After the scoffs and laughter quieted, Jonto fed more wood to the fire.
She turned to the shepherd, Beadle Wallace, who had so mismanaged Isla’s flock.
“And you, Mister Wallace. I understand you somehow managed to save enough money to buy your mother a nice little cottage in Barnsley. Close to thirty pounds, from what I hear.”
“What?” A short, barrel-chested man uncrossed his arms and stared at Wallace with his mouth agape and his shaggy brows raised nearly into his hairline. “Where’d ya come up wit’ that kinda doss, then, Beadle? Not on what ya earned at th’ Hall, that’s fer damn sure.”
Beadle’s Adam’s apple bounced up and down as he swallowed nervously.
The big dockworker stepped forward. “Aye. And we all wondered why ya’d move yer ma to Barnsley when she’s been bidin’ in Fachan her entire life, eh? Ya tryin’ to hide somethin’?”
Jonto sat back and crossed her arms. “Trying to hide the fact that you destroyed Lady Brighton’s land on purpose at the behest of someone, Barleycorn?
Perhaps the same someone you now work for?
And then you, Beadle, took advantage of the trust she placed in you and your shepherding abilities and convinced the lady to double the numbers of her livestock and throw them onto my land.
Were you hoping I’d take offense and call her out? ”
Her glare intensified as her gaze bore into Wallace, ensuring her audience knew the shepherd was as much to blame as the steward. “Aren’t you working for Lord Montfort now, too? Convenient.”
The anger running through the longshoremen, blacksmiths, and farmers was palpable now and Jonto made sure to look each one directly in the eye.
“I understand Lady Brighton ensured that none of your children ever went hungry during the long, cold winters, even if all she could offer were carrots from her pantry or perhaps a bit of mutton from her personal cold storage. She’s educated them and put clothing on their backs, and now, I come in here, and you’re laughing at her behind her back because these two set out to make her look the fool so they could line their own pockets with coin and move their families onto better land.
Well, let me tell you, I haven’t lived here long, but I’ve heard enough things to know that Lady Brighton is no one’s fool. ”
Jonto stood and started for the door. Turning to face them again, she took a moment to ensure every man in the room thought she was speaking directly to them.
“I’d say, when the time comes to choose up sides, you men will all do the right thing.
And I’d have a word with these two traitors if I were you.
Men who should have been loyal to their mistress but instead betrayed her to someone who wants to steal her land out from under her.
” She and Nico stepped outside. “Shut the door and put your shoulder up against it, please, Nico.”
Just as he leaned his bulk into the wooden door, a loud thump sounded, and it rattled on its hinges.
From inside, they heard, “Open the fowkin’ door!
” They left to the sounds of chairs breaking and fists thudding into flesh as the men of Fachan’s Bay took care of two of their own who wouldn’t be welcome in town any time soon.