Sherbrooke Twins (Sherbrooke Brides 8)

“Lawks,” said Freddie, and patted his trousers, straightened his sleeve, presented James a proud pose in his beautiful new livery. “Let’s be off then, my lord. We’ll find somethin’, er, something.”

“Yes, hurry, both of you,” the earl said. “Now, I think these two fine specimens should spend some time in our stable, if you don’t think they’ll upset the horses.”

Remie and Jason bore the men off, and Douglas went in to write a note to Lord Gray, a gentleman he knew in Bow Street.

As for Corrie and Judith, they watched Jason and Remie haul the three men away. “This,” Judith said quietly, “isn’t what I planned to see when I came to visit.”

“No,” Corrie said. “Do you know, Judith, maybe you and I should spend some time with these fellows as well.”

“You mean if the gentlemen don’t glean any information from them?”

“Exactly.” And Corrie cracked her knuckles, something she hadn’t done since she was ten years old.

Judith laughed, shaded her eyes with her hand, and said, “I wonder if James and Freddie will find anything. Who is that boy, Corrie? Isn’t he a bit young to be employed by the earl?”

“Freddie is very special,” Corrie said. “Very special indeed. Did you hear how much better he speaks?”

“You’re teaching him to speak proper English?”

“Actually, it’s Willicombe,” Corrie said. “I daresay that the earl would do about anything for Freddie.” She smiled at Judith. “We can come back this afternoon, perhaps have our own little talk with those two villains.” And that was what Corrie told the earl just ten minutes later. “My lord, I think you should reconsider calling in Bow Street. Let me go question these men. I know I can convince them to talk to me.”

Judith nodded, eyes narrowed, nearly growling. “I should like to pry their mouths open as well, my lord.”

Douglas looked at the two young ladies, whom, he suspected, had as much guts as his wife, and said slowly, “Perhaps this note to Lord Gray can wait for a while. Yes, let us try to break them first.”

Willicombe, however, was dead set against this. Indeed, he stood in the entrance hall, six feet from the front door, so pale he looked dead.

He was breathing so fast, Corrie was afraid he would faint. She stepped up to him and slapped him hard.

“Ah, oh goodness, a hit in the chops by a young lady.” Willicombe said on a moan. “But since the aforementioned young lady rescued one of our boys, I suppose that-” He stopped, drew a deep steadying breath, and said, “Thank you, Miss Corrie. I think I shall have a nutty bun if there is one left.”

And he tottered off.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

“ HE RAN LIKE a young man,” James said to his father, Freddie nodding vigorously at his right elbow.

“A young man,” Douglas repeated. “Yet again he comes, this son of Georges Cadoudal.” He looked at his son. “Why, James? Why?”

“When we get him, we will find out. Everyone is looking for him, Father. It won’t be long now.” James pointed across the park. “He hurled himself into a hackney and the driver whipped the horses up, fast. We had no chance to catch him.”

“Well, we have three of his men. I’ve decided that we’ll let Corrie and Judith speak to them tomorrow.” He smiled at James’s look of utter horror. “The young ladies claim they will make the villains tell us all. But now, let’s try our hand at breaking them.”

James rubbed his hands together. “Let’s do it. Freddie, go fetch Master Jason, tell him we’re going to have a chat with our villains.”

Douglas said, “If none of us has any luck, I will send off my note to Lord Gray. He can send one of his men here to take them away. At least they won’t be of any further use to Georges’s son.”

Two hours later, Douglas had to admit defeat. The men were being paid extremely well to keep their mouths seamed. Indeed, it was more than money, James thought, since he’d offered them five hundred pounds and been refused. There was real fear in their eyes. They simply said over and over that they didn’t know nothin’, that they’d just wanted to snag the rich bloke’s purse, no, no, they didn’t know any cove what called hisself Douglas Sherbrooke-a young man? No, they knew no young men. And on and on it went until Douglas called a halt. James and Jason wanted to bash their heads together, but Douglas allowed that he didn’t want two dead men buried in his stables. He would turn them over to Bow Street, let Lord Gray’s men bust heads and bury them in gaol.

All three men were depressed, but were forced to smile because Alexandra had invited Lady Arbuckle and Judith as well as Lord and Lady Montague and Corrie to dine with them that evening. Her reason, she admitted to her husband, after he’d nibbled on her neck, forgetting for a good long while that he was supposed to be fastening her ruby necklace, was to see the two young ladies with her sons.

“I want to observe how they treat each other, how they behave with their relatives, and with us.”

“You’ve known Simon, Maybella, and Corrie forever. You know how they relate to us.”

“Ah, but don’t you see, Douglas? I don’t know how they’ll deal with Lady Arbuckle and Judith McCrae, and that’s important. Also, I want to see if I like Judith. I’ve never before seen Jason so drawn to a young lady. Maybe she’s rotten to the core, maybe she wants him for his looks, maybe she has a terrible sense of humor.”

Douglas shook his head, patted her cheek, looked down at her breasts, swallowed a bit, and turned to straighten the cravat that his valet had pronounced perfect ten minutes before. He said over his shoulder, “Poor James. He had no chance to see if there was a young lady out there to win his heart. Now he’ll never know.”