Chasing Eliza (Cavendish Mysteries 3) - Page 56

“You held up the coach carrying the Mayor of Derby and his wife.” She accused, feeling sick to her stomach as she started the wicked blade he was toying with.

“Killed ‘em both, stole their stuff and set up Jemima for their murder while we were at it. Worked like a charm.”

“But the men you set up with Jemima. They weren’t all tricked to, surely?”

She scowled across the small clearing at him, all thoughts of escaping forgotten for the time being as she listened in rapt horror to his version of events. She knew they were the truth, Jemima had said so.

“They were useless.” Rogan spat. “We sent them to find you. Ha! They couldn’t find the bloody noses on the end of their faces. So we told them they either went along with the plan and went to jailed for their crimes, after a while they would be let out – call it a punishment of sorts, meted out by justice.” He sniggered at his own cleverness.

“You didn’t tell them they would be going to jail for murder and face hanging.” She didn’t require his confirmation, it was there in the satisfied glint in his eyes.

“You forgot one thing.” Her voice was deadly calm. She knew he was trying to worry her by toying with his blade but refused to let him see just how frightened she was of both.

“When you saw Jemima executed you forgot that the information she had was already on its way to the people who are going to bring you down.”

She felt a certain satisfaction as she watched Rogan go rigid as the reality of being too late dawned on him.

“By killing her, you made sure that she couldn’t tell you who she sent the information to. I know Papa went to see someone in the War Office – he and Jemima had contacts there. But I don’t know who they were. You forgot to find out just who Jemima sent her papers to because there is one thing for certain.” She paused, her eyes locked with this as she drove her success home. “You have no idea now just who in authority knows about you and your father’s activities, what information they do have, and who the informants are that are still betraying you.”

Her heart somersaulted in her chest as she stared directly into the cold, hard eyes of Scraggan’s son and knew he was indeed a chip off the old block. His heart was as black and twisted as his father’s. There was no reaction other than a steady, blank stare for several minutes that left goose bumps on her skin. Eventually he seemed to snap out of his daze and he blinked several times apparently absorbing her words.

“Do you really think you can kill repeatedly and never face justice? Killing me will only add to the list of your crimes.” She kept her eyes averted as Rogan stood and moved several paces away. She kept talking regardless, knowing she had his attention from his sudden restlessness. “You have made great enemies not only in Edward, but also Peter and their contacts in the War Office. But you have bigger problems than that Rogan. You have a viper in your midst and at the moment you have no idea who.”

She couldn’t keep the malice from her voice. It was the least he deserved given he was responsible for putting Jemima at the gallows. She hated him and could feel no mercy in her heart.

“Shut up!” Rogan spat, his temper clearly rising.

Eliza felt a strange calm settle over her. She couldn’t detect any movement around them, but for some vague reason she wanted to look over her shoulder. Some level of awareness beckoned and warned her that there was someone nearby.

Her heart lurched and she wondered briefly if it was Edward, but immediately quashed the idea. After all, she hadn’t heard any movement indicating the arrival of anyone – even the horses had been quietly undisturbed, steadily grazing in the small meadow beyond the trees.

“I’m just stating facts.” Eliza continued, refusing to back down or be ordered around by him. “You are being betrayed to an extent that your days of running rife are numbered; for both you and your father. Have you heard from him lately?” Her voice was almost conversational.

“Shut up, I said!” Rogan shouted, his face had lost the blank look and was now reddened with fury.

Eliza knew she had struck a nerve. She didn’t know why she felt the urge to keep prodding him.

It was a little like poking a wasp nest with a stick. At some point you know you are going to get stung, but you keep poking anyway just to see what will happen.

She wondered what Rogan would do now.

“I’m just saying.” She argued, wondering what Rogan would do now. “If you are going to kill people around you, then you have to understand that at some point people are going to do what they can to stop you.”

“I said shut up!” Rogan bellowed, stomping across the clearing towards her. Her hair was yanked painfully, her head dragged backwards as the blade of his wicked looking knife dug into the tender flesh of her throat. In a brief moment Eliza wondered if she was facing the final few moments of her life. Although she was relatively calm about facing death, her only regret about losing her life so soon was that she had never told Edward how much she loves him.

“I don’t expect to hear anything from you until you are told. Understand?” He bit out, anger practically vibrating from him.

Eliza daren’t push him any further and heaved a shaken sigh of relief when he stomped away. He shot her one last filthy glare as he moved to the opposite side of the camp, pacing backwards and forwards in his agitation. He stopped only to give one of the men standing in the trees a quiet order before resuming his seat with such calmness every nerve within her jangled in alarm. The sudden change in him was unnerving.

Silence settled over the camp for several moments. Unnatural silence. As she sat on the wobbly stone she took the time to study the camp. She was relatively certain that there had been three or four men on the far side of the fire pit, standing just inside the protection of the trees. They weren’t there now.

The other two men standing just on the edge of the meadow further away had also gone. Were they meetin

g up somewhere in preparation to move on? Or were they being systematically taken out one-by-one?

She watched in concern as the man returned leading a huge horse on a piece of rope.

“Time to go.” Rogan moved to stand before her, a glint of satisfaction in his eye as he dragged her roughly to her feet.

Tags: Rebecca King Cavendish Mysteries Historical
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