Peregrine's Prize (13 page)

 
"Well I know she's somewhat of a mutton
headed sap, and I wouldn't have thought her capable of executing any plot, but
someone thinks she is capable of formulating and succeeding with a plan, and
that is worrying." Maggie tapped the table top. "She is a loose
cannon. I can't say I ever thought her stable."

"She never was. She is someone
who thought she deserved more than she ever received. Meeting Mortimer and his
grandiose ideas must have seemed like manna from heaven. No wonder she was
devastated when he died. It has to be that, that therefore made her decide she
needed revenge," Felicity said. "It is just that she chose us to use
as her enemy that galls me more than anything. I for one have had enough. Gad,
I haven't been able to see my papa for nigh on half a year, or even know where
he is. Now I might not approve of what he tried to get me to do, even though I
admit there's a lot more to you Perry than you ever showed me, but I love him.
He is my papa, the man who showed me and Maggie how to shoot, didn't scold when
I came in with torn flounces, and loved me unconditionally. The man who wiped
my brow and tended to my spots when I caught chicken pox, and told me I was
beautiful when my nose was as red as a beacon with influenza. I miss him."
She sniffed and Maggie felt tears welling up. When she and Felicity were
youngsters they'd spent a lot of time together, and Lord Oakley had been a true
male influence in her life. Only once they were older did she and Felicity see
little of each other. She was more than glad to be friends again, even if under
such unusual circumstances.

"Well, if we stop Gussie and
find out her master in all this then hopefully you'll see him soon," Perry
said. "He is well, yes I remember that, in fact I assume there's not a lot
I've not recovered." With a grunt of annoyance he hit the desk with the
flat of his hand. "That is a stupid thing to say, for how do I know? No
matter, I refuse to worry over that I can't change. It's a pity your papa
didn't know who threatened him."

"Blackmailed him you
mean?" Felicity said. "I find it strange there is something so dark
in his past that he felt the need to risk so much for it not to be
uncovered."

Perry shrugged. "Perhaps to
us it is a nothing, but to a proud man like your papa, he felt it would be his
undoing. Don't worry, he didn't murder, steal, or commit treason. That is all
I'm prepared to say on the subject."

"To move on," Maggie
said in a hurry when she thought Felicity might argue. "There's been a
direct threat to Perry, and it was decided I should intercept him, and bring
him here." She flashed him a quick look. His face was grim, and Maggie
knew he wasn't happy at the thought of being sidelined or protected in such a
way. "However, someone, oh it has to be Gussie and her cronies, got to him
first. What I can't understand is why, after having you at their mercy, they
left you by the roadside."

"I think I can answer
that," Perry said. "After they—he—hit me, and I began to black out, I
remember a male voice shouting, 'no time, someone's coming', and then I rolled
into the ditch. Luckily we've had dry weather lately, so the water level's
almost nonexistent, or I'd've drowned and put a stop to everything. I think after
that, they decided to make their escape. Did anyone pass you?" he asked
Maggie.

"A black carriage, driven at
a reckless pace by two very thuggish looking men. Abe thought them young bucks
who knew no horsemanship, but I got a better look at them. He was busy making
sure we didn't end up on our side. I admit they went out of my mind until
Felicity and I sat down and penned all we knew. Just after that your horse
appeared. Abe grabbed the horse, and I found you. We brought you here, and
after adding a few realistic scratches, and donning your torn coat, Abe
continued to Nash's to make it seem as if you were still on the road."

"And I spent much too long
trying to recall who I am and what my life is all about."

 
Maggie dipped her head to hide her face. Some
of the ways she'd helped him made her go hot just at the thought. Perry slid
his chair closer to her, and put his mouth by her ear. "Some of those ways
definitely need repeating, my cock aches to reacquaint itself with your cunt
and arse. In fact I could suffer a relapse and demand you take me to our
chamber and succor me."

Maggie stamped hard on his foot
and heard him give a theatrical hiss of pain. "Behave or the only succor
you'll get will be bread and water."

 
"Don't mind us," Nash said dryly.
"We're only here to help."

"I don't," Perry said.
"And your help is thankfully somewhat different to my lady's. Oh, ignore
my megrims. I'm allowed to be somewhat crotchety am I not? Just for a day or
so."

"For one more hour,"
Maggie said firmly. "Then no more. Whilst you decide what next, I'm going
to make the tea I spoke of. I'm cold and fatigued, and it will keep me awake
for as long as it's needed."

Perry kissed her neck, in the
soft nipping way that brought juices to gather in her channel and made her
nipples harden and chafe on the silk of her dress. She shivered and he laughed
softly. "Very well as ever I defer to you, my love."

Ha,
more like as never, not as ever.

The glint in his eye told her his
retribution would be enjoyable to them both.

Felicity went to get up, but
Maggie waved her back down.

"You stay and put your head
together with Nash and Perry, and see what you can come up with. I won't be
above a few minutes."

"Any Melton Pie left?"
Nash asked as Maggie opened the door. "We brought several with us, and surely
we haven't consumed them all?”

Maggie shook her head in mock
disbelief. "Nash Gretton, you've done nothing but eat all evening. Surely
you can't still be hungry?"

He rubbed his stomach. "I'm
a growing man."

Perry let out a shout of
laughter. "Outwards as well as upwards Nash? Sorry you can’t use that
hoary old chestnut anymore. However love, I feel a bit peckish." He
winked, and Maggie knew fine well he wasn’t taking about food. "I could do
with something to sustain me until…" He let his voice fade away.

Nash guffawed and Felicity
chuckled. Maggie rolled her eyes. Would she ever truly not feel embarrassed at
how open and sexual the Gretton men were? Even Harold, when he stayed at Nash's
home hadn't worried what he said or did. Even though at times she wanted to
sink into the floor, the feeling of being loved and part of a family surrounded
her. She and Felicity discussed it one evening over a bottle of port, and
decided that as they were wanted, needed and loved, it was an honor to be thus
embarrassed.

****

She still sniggered to herself
when she went into the kitchen. Once there she opened up the stove to heat the
coals, and rummaged in the cupboard. Maggie sighed with satisfaction as she
discovered a good sized chunk of a very large Melton pork pie left over from a
previous meal. The Melton Mowbray Pork Pie was famous for its rich flavor and
excellent texture. This one, hand raised and made by Mrs. Dagwood, Nash's
proper housekeeper, was cooked to an old, carefully guarded, family recipe of
hers. Her father and grandfather before him were famous in the Melton Mowbray
area for the quality of their pies. After one bite of the rich pastry and
tender meat Maggie knew why. If she tried until she was old and grey, she'd never
achieve one of such quality and taste. Luckily, she didn't have to.

It took no more than five minutes
to collect everything she needed and wait until the water boiled. Maggie poured
it onto the precious tea leaves and let them steep. Her penchant for tea caused
much merriment—she drank it at every opportunity. Therefore she was ever
grateful the prohibitive cost wasn't out of her reach, or that she had to keep
it under lock and key all the time as so many people did.

She picked up her loaded tray and
tsk’d. She'd forgotten the knife to cut the pie. Maggie opened the cutlery drawer
and rummaged through the utensils there. The knife was missing. Try as she
might, Maggie couldn't remember taking it out of the room earlier when she and
Felicity cut all the pies and pastries up before taking the food through to
their men.

However the knife was nowhere to
be seen, and Maggie frowned. Surely she wasn't quite so forgetful as to
misplace something so integral to the smooth running of the house? She'd have
to ask the others if anyone had any idea where it might be.

A thud outside made her jump. The
night had been still so far, and there was no wind to scoop any stray pails up
and knock them off the house wall. She stood, the tray held in front of her
like a shield and waited, with her heart thumping and threatening to drown out
any noises that might occur. Nothing did.

 
Perry mentioned 'the itch' to her in the past,
and explained what it meant to him, and Maggie was certain that was what she
now felt. The nasty, spider-crawling tingle over her shoulders and down her
spine wasn't pleasurable, anything but. It made her mouth dry and her stomach
tense. It took less than five seconds to decide to put the tray down and walk across
to the dresser and fiddle with one of the elaborately carved roses on the side.

Thankful Nash told her about the
secret cupboard within it many months previously, and how to open the lock, Maggie
stretched inside to find the Manton pistol she'd put there when they'd arrived.
She felt somewhat foolish, and was probably overreacting to what after all had
probably been a stray fox on the prowl for discarded food, but that unpleasant
itch still remained to make her senses churn. She'd rather be laughed at for
being foolish, than unprepared if the 'fox' turned out to be not animal but human,
and have two legs not four.

Satisfied she couldn't do
anything else for protection and still mentally castigating herself for her
foolishness, Maggie picked up the tray again and walked out of the room and
across the hall toward the room where she'd left the others. Her soft house
slippers made no noise on the flags and her dress hardly swished as she moved
with elegance and grace, even with her heavy burden

A few feet from the door she
stopped. Had she closed it so much? Surely she remembered leaving it well ajar,
because she knew she'd be carrying a loaded tray? All of a sudden the itch
increased tenfold and Maggie walked with even more care to stand behind the
heavy wood panels of the door. The voice she heard made her yearn for the lost
kitchen knife and be thankful for her pistol. Very carefully, Maggie inched away
from the door to put the tray down on a side table well out of the line of
sight of anyone within the room. She lifted the pistol off the tray, and with
stealth backed along the corridor until she reached the entrance to one of the
tiny antechambers that led off the hall. This, she knew, led into the room the
others were in. Maybe, just maybe she could do something to help.

Chapter
Fourteen

Perry watched Maggie leave the
room and wondered why he had the urge to run after her, and bring her back and
hold her close to him. His cock twitched at the thought and he mentally
smirked. It had been such a long dry spell without his lady, and the few days
they spent together went such a small way to satisfying his need for her. He
itched to strop her, bind her and listen to the soft mewls and gasps as he
changed the color of her arse to match the color of both sets of her lips. To
have discovered they both enjoyed such extremes as they did had been not only
satisfying, but set the seal on their relationship. Maggie might be competent
and in control out of the bedroom, but when it came to satisfying the delights
and desires of their bodies Perry directed and dominated. Maggie not only
accepted his domination, but as she confessed, reveled in it and wanted it no
other way. For her to have taken charge so thoroughly over the past days had been
a departure, and one he'd enjoyed. Nevertheless Perry knew it wouldn't satisfy
him for long, and he'd been happy when she'd whispered to him that she looked
forward to being submissive once more. Perry turned the tables neatly, by
commanding her to take charge until he was able. Somehow he thought that time
was about upon them.

"So we think Abe will flush
her out?" he asked as Felicity gathered their writings together and put
them into a neat pile. She walked across the room toward the small chamber,
which held a tall set of drawers and cupboards.

"I'll put these in the tallboy
next door, so we know where to find them."

Perry smiled his thanks as she
left the room. Now Felicity was not his concern, he liked her as a sister-in-law.

"Gussie or her
minions," Nash said once his wife disappeared.

Perry rolled his shoulders to relieve
the sudden tension in them. His itch returned on high alert, and he wanted
Maggie back with him. "We have to not only stop them, but find out who is
behind all this."

"Which is why I took the
liberty of purporting to be you, and sending a message to a certain gentleman in
London, who is watching your department for anything untoward."

 
It was strange to hear Nash take charge so
emphatically. Always it had been him who took the lead, and decided what must
be done and where. Perry realized just how wasted Nash would have been if he'd
agreed to their father's diktat and entered the church.