The Spider's Touch (38 page)

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Authors: Patricia Wynn

Tags: #Historical Mystery

BOOK: The Spider's Touch
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Gideon muttered an oath, before putting his heels to Penny’s flanks. He could not be positive that the man was Menzies, but neither could he afford to wait for Tom. Chance was in his favour, so he gave chase with every ounce of Penny’s breath. Her breaths were coming harder, but her stride never broke. Gideon prayed that he would recognize the signs before his demand could do her harm, but her heart was so steadfast that he knew she might collapse under him before she quit.

The rider in front of him was whipping his horse with all the fury of a man who was being pursued by highwayman. But his animal was spent. They had galloped less than a mile, with Penny gaining, when the horse in front stumbled and fell to its knees. The rider flew over the horse’s head and landed in a heap.

Gideon pulled hard on the reins, but Penny had already begun to slow, startled by the motion ahead. Gideon could not tend to her, for as soon as they caught up with the other horse, which was struggling to its hooves, and Gideon dismounted, the rider, who had already recovered his feet, pulled a pistol from his waist and aimed it straight at Gideon’s heart.

Gideon froze, cursing himself for leaving his pistols with Tom. It was only the greatest good fortune that the man he had chased did not shoot him on sight.

“I have no pistol,” Gideon said, showing both of his hands. “I did not come to rob you. Merely to talk.”

The gentleman, who had lost his wig in the fall, and stood with his shaved head bared, barked out a laugh between his gasps for air. “Excellent story. I’m sure that a magistrate would be quite entertained to hear it.”

“What I said is true—if you are the gentleman I’ve been chasing. If not, then I beg you to ride on your way—with an apology for any damage to your horse, of course.”

Gideon added this last, after a glance out the corner of his eye had revealed that the rider’s horse had developed a limp. It did not look severe, but it would require some care soon if the horse were not to be lamed.

“And who is this gentleman you are seeking?”

“His name is Menzies.”

The man reacted with a jerk. Even in the dark Gideon could tell that he had hit his mark.

“What do you want with him?” Menzies demanded.

Although Gideon was sure of his quarry now, it would be unwise to let him know why he’d been followed when he had a pistol aimed at Gideon’s chest. Especially if he was a murderer.

“I have questions I need to ask. They concern some acquaintances we have in common.”

Menzies gave a mocking laugh. “And then, I presume, we should each go our separate ways? I somehow find that hard to believe. It is far more likely that you were sent to kill me.”

Gideon opened his mouth to deny it, but Menzies interrupted. “Enough! You will be fortunate, indeed, if I do not shoot you first.”

With his gun trained on Gideon, he took a few steps towards his mount, but the exhausted animal saw him coming and shied away. Its lameness was even more pronounced than before.

Menzies swore.

Gideon thought of Penny. He looked behind him at the spot in the road where she had stopped. After that hard ride, she should have been walked until she was cool, and the night was turning chill. If she was not attended to soon, her muscles could cramp.

Menzies noticed the direction of Gideon’s gaze, for the next time he spoke, his voice held a satisfied sneer. “It appears that I shall have to borrow your horse.”

Gideon stepped angrily towards him, but he was forced to halt when Menzies flourished his pistol.

“I shouldn’t do that if I were you,” he said, sidling over to Penny and picking up her reins.

If she had not been worn out, she never would have let a stranger approach her so easily. Gideon felt a spasm of fear that he might lose his precious horse.

“A fine animal,” Menzies gloated. “I wonder who you stole it from.”

With his pistol still aimed in Gideon’s direction, he placed his left foot in the stirrup and hoisted himself up.

Surprised by the weight of a stranger on her back, Penny tossed her head and her eyes gave a flash. As Menzies worked to calm her, Gideon watched his horse with every muscle in his body tensed. He would have made a grab for Penny’s reins if he had been within reach, but Menzies was clearly no novice with a weapon, for his aim never slipped.

Gideon knew that fearing for his horse was hardly rational. Especially when the weapon was pointed at him and not at her. Still he could not bear the thought of losing his mare, and in her whipped condition, he did not have much hope that she would manage to unseat her rider.

Soon, she permitted Menzies to quiet her. She seemed even docile. Then, as Menzies relaxed, shifting his weight back in the saddle, her tail gave a swish, her ears turned back, and her head bent down.

Gideon’s heart made a lunge.

He took a step in the direction her tail was pointing. “You cannot mean to leave me here! In the road?”

Menzies twisted in the saddle to follow him, as Gideon had hoped. With Penny pulling with her head, he would not be able to keep both hands on the reins and his pistol aimed Gideon’s way. Then, Penny gave a hop with her hind legs, and Menzies was forced to turn even more.

But his fault was arrogance, and he could not miss an opportunity to sneer, “I daresay the authorities will want to know why you chose to ride out at midnight, and masked. I shall have to mention your location to the Watch in Sevenoaks.”

He was about to say more, when Gideon noted that Penny had raised one of her hind hooves and that both of her ears had gone flat against her head.

He lunged left. Menzies followed his movement, swiveling quickly to the right and throwing his body awry, just as Penny arched her back in a hump and her hooves lashed back.

She had a cunning angle to her buck, as Gideon knew, as if she could sense the very point of her rider’s balance. She had used it on him often enough, until he had learned to ride it. And, though he had cursed her for it a time or two, he couldn’t help being proud of her now, as Menzies went flying in one direction and his pistol in the other.

Gideon retrieved the weapon, before approaching his frightened horse. Even with her her head jerking in indignation, he could see that she was quivering, and the sweat drying on her coat worried him even more. As he advanced, he cooed gently, telling her what a good girl she was, and soon she stopped tossing her head and came to rest it against his chest. With her soft, warm nose blowing hard in his palm, he finally glanced at the place where Menzies had landed and watched him struggle to his feet. The wariness in his shoulders alerted Gideon to the fact that Menzies was calculating his next move, and that he had not yet ruled out a fight.

It was Gideon who broke the silence between them. “As I was saying,” he coolly remarked, “I have a few questions for you to answer.”

“I never said I was the man you are seeking. What was his name?”

His evasion made him Gideon smile. “His name is Menzies, though he also goes by the name of Blackwell.”

Again he could not miss Menzies’s reaction, for his body went still.

He said, “I’m afraid you have stopped the wrong man.”

“If that is the truth, then I shall apologize, of course. But I believe it is not. If you insist on denying it, however, we have only to wait a short time before my servant Tom will be joining us. He’s met you, you know.”

Menzies was entirely unprepared for this last bit of news. He did not even bother to conceal his surprise. “Are you the blackguard who’s taken over Lade’s?” he demanded.

“The very same. And, your recent behaviour to the contrary, I had heard that you wished to meet me.”

Gideon’s tone, along, perhaps, with the fact that he had not fired the weapon, seemed to give Menzies confidence. He squared his shoulders, which, as hunched as they’d been, must have begun to ache.

Arrogance was in his voice again, when he hissed, “And I still look forward to that meeting.”

Gideon involuntarily tightened his grip on the pistol butt, but suppressed the urge to react. “I shall be happy to oblige you on a future date, but for the moment I have a more pressing matter.”

“Such as
...
?”


...
the murder of Sir Humphrey Cove.”

Menzies greeted this statement with silence. Sensing the moment to push, Gideon was about to question him, when he heard approaching hoof beats. Both men turned their heads in time to see Tom ride over the nearest peak in the road.

He spotted them and checked his horse. Then, recognizing his master, he set Beau towards them at a trot.

In spite of Tom’s poor timing, Gideon was very relieved to see him.

“I see you caught up with Mr. Menzies, sir.”

Gideon ignored the smugness in his groom’s voice. “Tom, I need you to walk my horse. She’s been ridden very hard.”

He had no need to say more. Menzies counted as nothing compared to Tom’s charges.

He took one look at Penny and leapt off his horse. “Just you give her to me, my lord.” He hurriedly took the reins from Gideon’s hands, and examined her legs for any sign of injury. Then, his examination complete, he took the reins to both horses and walked them up and down the narrow road as if he had never taken an interest in this night’s work.

“So. It is ‘my lord,’ is it?”

Until Menzies said this, Gideon had not remarked Tom’s slip.

“Then what Lade believes is true? You are for James?”

Gideon had not risked his favourite horse to discuss his part in the Pretender’s schemes. So far, Menzies had done everything he could to avoid answering his questions. Perhaps, he would be more helpful if he knew that Gideon was an agent of James’s.

“His Majesty
has
entrusted me with a mission. But that is not my reason for following you. I came to ask, why you left Sir Humphrey’s box on the evening that he was murdered.”

Menzies scoffed. “I never murdered that fool! And I cannot believe that his Majesty would waste his time in worrying who did.”

His callousness did nothing to recommend him to Gideon. With a sharper edge to his voice, he said, “Nevertheless, I believe he would wish to know if one of his followers was murdered by another. I understood Sir Humphrey to be a faithful adherent of the Stuart cause.”

“Faithful, perhaps. But he never did anything for James.”

“He never contributed money?”

Gideon could almost hear Menzies’s scowl. “Never as much as he should. But there is nothing unusual in that. None of you English Jacobites are doing what you should for his Majesty.”

“Still
...
if he gave money, his loss should account for something. Which makes me wonder why Sir Humphrey was killed, when every gentleman in that box was a Jacobite, except for Lord Hawkhurst, of course.”

“What makes you say that?”

“I have my sources.” Gideon let those words sink in, before he went on, “Colonel Potter lost his commission because someone told the King that his loyalty was not to be trusted. He tried to obtain a post as secretary to Lord Hawkhurst. His motive was to turn the earl to the cause.”

He continued, “Lord Lovett’s part in this is still unclear, though he introduced the Colonel to Hawkhurst’s notice. Somehow, I feel certain that you can tell me what his purpose was.”

“Other than bedding than countess?” Menzies sneered. “I don’t know that he had another.”

Gideon felt a punch of revulsion. This was followed by a spurt of anger so strong that he balled his fists. The strength of his emotions took him aback. He had not believed himself still vulnerable where Isabella was concerned.

He knew that he was no longer in love with her. Nor had he been, since discovering how little he meant to her. Yet, some remnant of his affection for her must remain, for he found himself unwilling to hear insults thrown at her.

Perhaps, he was not yet ready to face how foolish he had been. But, then, with a flash, he knew that he simply felt it was unfair for a man to play seductive games when his motive was not love, no matter how willing his victim might be. And, if that was the basis for his reaction, then he had sufficiently recovered from his disappointment to think of Isabella as a victim, too.

All of this flew through his mind in an instant, so he scarcely paused before continuing. “After he won the lady’s favour,” he said, referring to Lord Lovett, “I presume he intended to use his influence to persuade her and her husband to send money to James?”

“Naturally,” Menzies responded. “So, you can see that neither of those gentleman had a reason to kill Sir Humphrey.”

“I have heard that Sir Humphrey was not always discreet.”

“Discreet! He couldn’t keep a confidence any longer than it takes to sniff a pinch of snuff. But no one would have been idiotic enough to trust him with any secret that was important.”

“You mean that he did not know of Colonel Potter’s and Lord Lovett’s plans?”

“I doubt he did. Lovett used him to become acquainted with Lord Hawkhurst and his lady. But Lovett is no fool. He would never have told Humphrey his reasons. He had only to express the desire to be made known to such a lovely lady, and Humphrey would have been satisfied.”

“And Sir Humphrey would never have tumbled to their real motive?”

“Never in a thousand years. So if you’ve been thinking that one of them killed Sir Humphrey Cove in order to keep him from betraying their plan to Lord Hawkhurst, then you’ve been wasting your time.”

Gideon waited, until his pause was long enough to be noticed, before saying, “Then, that leaves us with you.”

“I did not murder him, I tell you!”

“But you left the box unexpectedly and did not return. And, since he was killed in the next few minutes, your departure obviously seems suspicious.” In a commanding voice, Gideon asked again, “So, why
did
you leave the box?”

Menzies answered reluctantly, “I saw someone I recognized from Boulogne. He was standing in the doorway to the pit with Walpole. He could be one of Walpole’s spies.”

“And, then
...
?”

“I left the theatre. What else?”

“Did you see anyone else from Sir Humphrey’s box? And, if you did, what were they doing and who were they with?”

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