Regency Buck (Alastair-Audley Tetralogy 3)

‘No, my lord, not at my end of the business – not yet, that is. But Tyler’s been getting smoky about me. I gammoned him I was boozy, and he thought he’d left me safe under the table. But I’m scared of this, my lord; properly scared I am. Broad daylight!’

‘There you are, what did I tell you, guv’nor?’ demanded Henry scornfully. ‘Him a prize-fighter! You’d have done better to let me handle the whole job.You’ll have that chicken-hearted shifter handing Jem Tyler over to a beak if you ain’t careful.’

Hinkson turned on him wrathfully, but upon the tiger saying at once: ‘Yes, you pop in a hit at me, and see what you get from my guv’nor!’ a slow grin spread over his unprepossessing countenance, and with an apologetic look at the Earl he went on harnessing the horses to the tilbury. Henry cast a professional eye over the buckles, and watched with considerable interest his master and Hinkson hoist the inanimate form of Jem Tyler into the tilbury, and cover it with a rug.

Hinkson gathered up the reins and said gruffly: ‘I won’t fail you, my lord.’

‘No, because if you did you’d lose a fatter purse than you’ve ever fought for, or ever will!’ retorted Henry.

‘And when all’s clear,’ said Hinkson, settling himself on the box-seat, and addressing the tiger, ‘I shall come back into this yard and wring your skinny neck, my lad!’ With which he jerked the reins, and drove out of the yard into the alley.

The Earl watched him go, and turned to look down at his tiger. ‘You know me, don’t you, Henry? One word of this on your tongue and it is I who will wring your neck, long before Hinkson has the chance of doing it. Off with you now!’

‘And I’d let you, guv’nor, which is more than what I would that lump o’ lard!’ replied Henry, unabashed.

An hour later Captain Audley went softly into the book-room and shut the door behind him. The Earl was writing at his desk, but he looked up and smiled faintly. Captain Audley glanced across at Peregrine’s still form. ‘Julian, are you quite sure – ?’

‘Perfectly.’

Captain Audley walked to the couch and bent over it. ‘It seems a damned shame,’ he said, and straightened himself. ‘What have you done with the groom?’

‘The groom,’ said Worth, picking up a wafer and sealing his letter, ‘has been taken to a spot somewhere near Lancing, and shipped aboard a certain highly suspicious vessel bound for the West Indies. Whether he ever reaches his destination is extremely problematical, I imagine.’

‘Good God, Worth, you can’t do that!’

‘I have done it – or, rather, Hinkson has done it for me,’ replied the Earl calmly.

‘But Julian, the risk! What if Hinkson turns on you?’

‘He won’t.’

‘You’re mad!’ Captain Audley exclaimed.‘What should stop him?’

‘You must think I choose my tools badly,’ commented the Earl.

The Captain glanced towards Peregrine again. ‘I think you’re a damned cold-blooded devil,’ he said.

‘Possibly,’ said Worth. ‘Nevertheless, I am sorry for the boy. But the date of his marriage being fixed was his death-warrant. He must be put out of the way, and really I think I have chosen quite as kind a way of doing it as I could.’

‘Yes, I know, and I see it had to be, but – well, I don’t like it, Julian, and there you have it! How I’m to face Judith Taverner with this on my conscience –’ ‘You can comfort yourself with the reflection that it is not on your conscience at all, but on mine,’ interrupted the Earl.

‘She is going to the Pavilion to-night,’ said Captain Audley inconsequently.

‘Yes, and so am I,’ replied the Earl. ‘Do you go too, or do you propose to sit and mourn over Peregrine’s plight?’

‘Oh, be quiet, Julian! I suppose I must go, but I tell you frankly I feel little better than a murderer!’

‘In that case you would be wise to order dinner to be put forward,’ recommended the Earl. ‘You will feel better when you have eaten and drunk.’

‘How are you going to get him out of the house?’ asked the Captain, looking towards the couch again.

‘Very simply. Evans will come in by the back way and I shall give the boy over to him. He will do the rest.’

‘Well, I hope to God it does not all fail!’ said Captain Audley devoutly.

But no hitch occurred in the Earl’s plans. At eleven o’clock a plain coach drove unobtrusively into the alley, and a couple of sturdy-looking men got out, and softly entered the yard through the unlocked gate. No one was stirring above the stables, and the men made no sound as they went up the iron steps to the back door. It was opened to them by the Earl, who had changed his cloth coat and pale yellow pantaloons for knee-breeches, and a satin coat. He pointed silently to the book-room. Five minutes later he had seen Peregrine’s limp body, wrapped round in a frieze cloak, put into the coach, and had returned to the house, and locked the back door. Then he examined the set of his cravat in the mirror that hung in the hall, picked up his hat and gloves and walked out of the house, across the Steyne to the Pavilion.

Twenty