The Nightingale Legacy (Legacy 2)

Suddenly, a deep, very smooth voice said from behind them, “I believe I will have the pleasure of finishing the job Caroline began, Ffalkes. No, gentlemen, I suggest that neither of you move a single knuckle of any finger. Mr. Ffalkes, you will very slowly dismount and lay Caroline on the ground over there on the grass. As for you, Trimmer, throw your gun and knife on the ground—surely a creature of your ilk would have a knife. Yes, of course you do.”

“Now, listen, guv, there’s things to speak about ’ere, don’t ye think that—”

North very calmly fired, hitting Trimmer’s right wrist as he brought up the gun, gleaming silver and stark in the dull evening light, and all primed to fire. “Do as I tell you or the next bullet will be through your bloody head. Yes, that’s very good. Stop yowling, Trimmer, you’ll live, if you’re not stupid. Now, Ffalkes, it’s your turn. Slowly, man, or I’ll make you very sorry.”

North felt Ffalkes’s rage, his utter frustration, and it pleased him no end. He held his dueling pistol directly at Ffalkes’s head as he dismounted clumsily, Caroline still unconscious in his arms.

“Ease her down gently, Ffalkes.”

“I’ll kill you for this, Chilton.”

“I hope you may try, you dishonorable bastard. I’ve been picturing your wrinkled throat between my hands for the past hour.”

“My neck isn’t wrinkled.”

North merely smiled coldly at him.

Once Caroline was on the ground, North said, “Now, Ffalkes, you and I are going to a very small, very smelly, and rodent-filled gaol in Goonbell.”

“Look here, Chilton, it’s your word against mine. You can’t do a thing to me.”

“You think not? Perhaps I forgot to mention that I’m the local magistrate. I rather believed transportation to Botany Bay might be just the thing for you. Might give you some character, though you’re probably too bloody old to change.”

“Damn you, I’m not old! I’ll have her. If you think anyone will believe her, you must be mad. She’s only a female. No one believes a female. I will simply say she became hysterical, that she begged me to elope with her and I—”

North interrupted smoothly, his voice deeper, darker now, but his rage well contained. “Trimmer, ride away now, and you’ll wake up in your own bed with just a bandage around your scrawny wrist. Never let me see your face again.”

But Trimmer didn’t move. He was holding his bloody wrist, and he was still as a fence post. “I don’t think so, guv,” he said finally, and he was looking behind North.

“Please, Trimmer, not that old sharper’s trick.”

“Ain’t no trick, m’lord. Now then, ye lay that popper o’ yers on the ground. Ye be all right, Mr. Ffalkes?”

Another man. The third set of tracks. North felt fury at himself for his own stupidity. He hadn’t taken sufficient care. He’d underestimated Ffalkes. He had scouted for the other tracks when he’d heard them talking, but he hadn’t seen them. Hell and damnation.

“I’m quite pleased to see you, Treffek,” Ffalkes said, rubbing his hands together. “Now, my lord, do as he says, put your gun on the ground. Excellent. Now, let me see to my little pigeon here.”

At that moment, Caroline moaned. North was off Treetop’s back in an instant and on his knees beside her, drawing her up into his arms. He lowered his face until his forehead was touching hers, and said very quietly, “Caroline, I’m so sorry, so very sorry.”

She just looked up at him, trying to clear her head, then she smiled and lifted her fingers to touch his mouth, his jaw, his nose, and he jerked back. “North,” she said, and pressed her face against his chest.

“Thank you, my lord,” Ffalkes said. “You have just given me the perfect lever. I always forget how very stubborn she is, but now it won’t matter. Treffek, tie up his lordship’s wrists. Trimmer, stop your moaning. When Chilton is taken care of, we’ll wrap your wrist in a handkerchief. Stop your damned whining, you gutless coward.”

North had no choice. He set Caroline away from him, watched her trying desperately to gain control, but he knew the blow Ffalkes had dealt her must hurt a great deal.

“You wonder, don’t you, my lord,” Ffalkes said,

as Treffek bound North’s wrists. “You wonder where he was. Well, he was guarding the cottage and we’re very nearly there. The gunshot brought him. Good man, Treffek. I’ll see you well rewarded for this once the bitch here is married to me.

“Now, let’s get to the cottage. Is the vicar there, Treffek?”

“Aye, sir, old Mr. Barhold arrived on the meanest little donkey I’ve ever seen, all ’uffin’ and wheezin’, and complainin’ louder than a stoat gettin’ its throat chopped, not that he can even put one together properly—but those guineas you put in his shiny black pocket will keep his mouth saying the marriage lines.”

“I won’t marry you,” Caroline said. “Nothing you do to me will make me marry you.”

He laughed, hauled her to her feet, and threw her over his shoulder. She fainted from the pain in her head.

* * *