“You’ll be sorry for this,” he threatened, breathless. “All of you. I won’t say any more until I see Lord Montague. He’s one of you, isn’t he? Yes, I thought so. Well, he was a friend of my late father.”
And with that he closed his mouth.
Richard wondered why Lord Montague had never mentioned his friendship with the Gilfoyles. Well, they would find out soon enough. His eye was aching, and he knew from experience that soon it would begin to swell and close. He should put something cold on it, but there was no time to indulge himself, no time to do anything but find the Captain and his man Sutton, before they found Tina.
“You were at the Great Southern Inn in May,” Will began. “You were on your way to Kent for the Bossenden Wood riots.”
Silence.
“You were traveling with John Little. Isn’t that so?”
Gilfoyle looked surprised, then thoughtful, but he still would not speak.
They continued to question him, but the silence went on, and eventually Sir Henry decided it would be best to take him under guard back to Whitehall and question him there.
“At least tell us where your henchman Sutton is hiding?” Richard demanded, as Gilfoyle was led to the door. “He’s going to hurt Miss Smythe if he remains on the loose. Give him up for her sake, if you really love her.”
Gilfoyle turned his head to stare at him. “You are an idiot, Eversham. I know nothing of this. If Tina is in danger, then it is entirely your fault, and if any harm comes to her, then I shall blame you for it.”
The door closed. Richard swore and went to the window, then back again, restless and anxious and unable to do anything about it.
“If he’s guilty, he’s giving a good impression of an innocent man,” Sir Henry said quietly.
Richard threw him an angry look. “He’s not innocent. Don’t let him gull you into believing that, sir. He’s a consummate liar.”
“Humph. Well, we shall see,” Sir Henry said.
Will returned, having given instructions to the trusted servants Sir Henry was using to keep watch over Gilfoyle until he was transported to London. He looked from one to the other of them and decided it was safer to hold his tongue.
“I’ll take her to Kent,” Richard said suddenly, almost as if he were talking to himself. “She’ll be safe there, and I can watch over her.”
“It’d be an easy enough matter for Sutton to follow you,” Will blurted out, and then wished he hadn’t as Richard shot him a nasty look. “However, I’m sure you’ve thought of that,” he added hastily.
“This friendship between Miss Smythe and Lord Horace,” Sir Henry said thoughtfully. “You don’t think they’re in this together? Not the first time a beautiful woman has made a fool of us men, eh?”
Richard took a breath as if he were about to explode, and then calmed himself, to the relief of the others. “Miss Smythe has noth
ing to do with the Captain, I’d stake my life on it. Gilfoyle has duped her just as he has everyone else.”
“Very well then.” Sir Henry rubbed his hands together. “I’ll get ready to return to London with Lord Horace. I’ll take Branson, too; give him a bit of a scare in case he hasn’t told us everything. You and Will here go to Kent with the young lady, and stay there until we consider it safe. I’ll keep in touch.”
Sir Henry came over to shake hands with them both. “Congratulations. This has been a difficult mission, but we are finally nearing its end. Your brother can rest peacefully at last, eh, Richard?”
As Richard agreed he realized with a sense of shock that he hadn’t been thinking of Anthony at all when he fought with Gilfoyle just now. He’d been thinking of Tina.
Chapter 32
Tina sat on the bed in her undergarments and watched as Maria packed her belongings carefully in her trunk and boxes, ready for the journey to Kent. All those expensive and precious gowns and bits and pieces, teamed with the worn and patched petticoats and darned stockings. It told the story of her life better than any words. She couldn’t believe so little time had elapsed since she had arrived here at Arlington Hall, and yet so much had happened.
The woman she’d been then was someone she barely recognized now. She’d been weighed down with her concerns, certainly, but she’d also been dreaming of Richard Eversham and enjoying the relative freedom of Arlington Hall. They’d walked in the sunshine and dined in the pavilion by the river, and although her plans in regard to Horace had been unsuccessful, she’d seen her brother Charles in an entirely new light.
“Charles!” She started up. “Maria, we must tell Charles what is happening. He’ll be worried and what will he tell my parents?”
Maria soothed her. “He’s been told, Miss Tina. Mr. Eversham and Sir Henry explained matters to him. He’s going to return to Mallory Street tomorrow in Lord Horace’s coach.”
“But the bailiffs!” she wailed, and put her hands to her face. “I can’t go to Kent. It’s impossible. There’s too much to do at home.”
Maria put an arm about her waist and led her toward the bed. “Lie down, miss, and rest. We will be leaving this evening, and it is a long journey without, I’m sure, many stops. Please, close your eyes and sleep. You are making yourself ill with worry.”