To Win His Wayward Wife (25 page)

“How so?” the constable asked before throwing back the rest of his tankard.

“That’s the only way Swift would know to go to Plymouth. Finding out we went to Rockhurst couldn’t have been too difficult. All he’d have had to do was bribe one of my London servants, or even Townson’s. But for him to know about Plymouth,” he shook his head, “no one, save the few of my servants who went with me, even knows I own an estate close to there.”

“All right,” Finch said thoughtfully. “What do you know about these four servants, besides the basic facts? Families? Debts? Grudges”

“Williams is the groom. He’s only seventeen or so, far too young to have a family of his own. He’s been in my employ since he was fourteen. I’ve never heard a complaint about him. Have you?” he asked, looking directly to Leer.

Leer shook his head. “Nay. E’s a good boy. Does wot I says.”

“Stone and Massey are the only footmen I brought along. Stone’s getting on in years. I offered him a pension last year around Christmas. He refused and claimed he’d die in my employ. Therefore, if money is what Swift is offering, I doubt Stone sees that as much motivation. Massey, on the other hand, has a need for money. He’s younger, early twenties perhaps, and he sends money back to his family. But he’s got a terrible limp that makes him walk at a snail’s pace and can hardly speak more than two words without stuttering.”

Finch frowned and nodded. “And the coachman?”

“He’s ancient,” Benjamin said dismissively, twisting his lips. “He was my grandfather’s coachman if that tells you anything. With the exception of one incident I’ve never had any type of problem from him.”

“What was the incident?” Finch asked curiously.

Benjamin shrugged. “Last year he used my carriage to help my sister-in-law flee her new and highly infuriated husband, leaving me stranded with said husband. But I don’t think money was the motive in that circumstance. When he finally remembered to come back for me, I asked him for the money he’d gotten from her and he pulled out all his pockets, revealing not as much as a halfpenny rested in his coffers.”

“Williams or Massey seem the most likely suspects, then,” Hunter mused, mindlessly spinning his tankard around.

The constable put his hat back on his head. “Perhaps we should go have a talk with the boys.”

“What are you up to?” Benjamin asked, eyes narrowing. Not that he had anything against the man or anything, but sometimes Benjamin got the impression the constable liked to rule his jurisdiction with an iron fist and would go to any lengths to make sure everyone knew his power.

“Nothing,” he said with a shrug. “We’ll just see what he has to say.”

Benjamin scowled. Perhaps it would have been better to get the constable involved
after
the incident.

After paying their tab, the five men hopped on their mounts and rode in silence back to Glenbrook.

“Massey’s an inside footman,” Benjamin said tersely. “After we hand our mounts to the groom, I’ll go get him.”

“Aight,” the constable agreed with an easy smile.

Approaching the stables, a ruckus caught the notice of the group. “Wot the devil is goin’ on in there?” Leer asked, jumping from his mount.

The other four looked at each other in curious silence before jumping off their own mounts and running into the stables.

Unblinkingly, Benjamin watched as every groom he employed was engaged in a fight. His eyes roamed over the image of punching and hitting and saw right in the middle was Jamison.
Jamison!
What was he doing here? He tore his eyes away from the fight and scanned the walls, looking for Madison. He didn’t see her and his heart started to race. Where was she? He scanned the walls again, dread, unease, and undeniable fear settling in his chest when he still didn’t see her.

Leaving it up to the others to stop the fight, he ran from the stables and circled the exterior, looking for Madison. Surely she wouldn’t have strayed far. He understood she probably hadn’t wished to stay in the stable with the fight, but knew her well enough to know she wouldn’t have wandered off.

He caught sight of Billings milling around outside the dairy barn, probably not wanting to get involved in a juvenile fight he’d never stand a chance at emerging alive from. “Have you seen Her Grace?” he asked casually. No need to let onto the private terror coursing through him.

“Nay,” Billings said, shaking his gray head.

“All right.”

He turned to leave and go search somewhere else when suddenly the sound of a bullet rent the air followed a split-second later by a high pitched, ear piercing, heart stopping, bloodcurdling scream.

Chapter 28

Madison shook out her green muslin skirt as soon as she stepped out of the stable. With all the fighting going on in there, hay had been flying everywhere and straw had come to settle all over her dress.

“Glad to be away from that,” she said with a sigh.

“Aye,” Billings agreed. He sagged up against the side of the stables. “Ye ever seen a dairy?”

Madison followed his gaze the building a hundred yards away. “Is that the dairy?”

“Aye,” he said, shaking his head. “Wanna see it?”

“No,” Madison said truthfully. “I shouldn’t have left the stables. I don’t think I should go into the dairy.”

“Come,” Billings encouraged, grabbing her arm.

“No, thank you,” Madison said politely, trying to pull her arm free. “Let go, please. You’re hurting me.”

“Ten be a good gel an’ come ‘long,” he said with an unusual smile.

Madison tried to pull her arm free, but his grip only tightened. “Help!” she screamed.

He laughed. “E won’t hear ye in tere.” He started pulling her in the direction of the dairy and she dug her heels in to offer as much resistance as she could. For being an old man he was awfully strong.

He wretched the door open to the dairy and flung her inside before slamming the door shut and locking her inside.

She looked around the dimly lit dairy. There were no cows in their stalls. Buckets and stools lined the aisle between stalls. The stench was enough to make one struggle to keep their stomach contents down.  Why had he tossed her in there?

“Hello, Madison,” said a familiar voice behind her that told her why she’d been locked in there.

Turning around, she saw the owner of that voice. He was halfway down the aisle that ran through the middle of the dairy, holding a lantern and sitting on a stool with his back to the door of one of the stalls and his feet resting on the stool across the aisle, his legs blocking the walkway. “Mr. Swift, I have nothing to say to you,” she said stiffly, clutching her suddenly cold hands together in front of her. “I’m sorry, but you’ve come to your senses too late. However, I’ve no regrets.”

“Sure you do,” he said silkily. “Remember how good it was between us? It can be that way again.”

“No, it cannot,” she replied, taking a step backwards.

He leaned forward and grabbed her wrist in a hard, almost bone crushing grip. “And why not?” he questioned with a hint of disbelief.

She tried to pull her hand free. “I’m married to Benjamin now.”

He scoffed. “Get it annulled. Or better yet, don’t. Then he can claim any children we might have. Just think I’ll get to be the father of the next duke,” he said excitedly as if it was some great boon that she’d cuckold her husband with him and his bastard would inherit Benjamin’s title.

Bile rose in her throat. “Never,” she said through clenched teeth. “You’re despicable to even think such a thing.”

He shrugged lazily. “Do you really think you two share some great love?” he asked with a sneer.

“That’s none of your business,” she snapped, trying to back away from him.

He stood and grabbed her by the shoulders, his fingers holding her so tightly she knew she was bruising. “Do you know his past, then?” he asked with an intent stare.

“I know all I need to know, thank you.”

Robbie scoffed and his fingers became even tighter. “Does he know yours, I wonder,” he mused with a sickening smile.

Much to his dismay, she’d never been very ladylike, and felt not a hint of shame as she cleared her throat and spat in his face.

As she predicted, his right hand released her shoulder and he wiped his face. “That’s disgusting, Madison,” he criticized. “I see even as duchess you still act like a fish wife.”

Madison didn’t care about his criticism of her. She took advantage of the situation and wrenched her body from his hold and ran toward the end of the aisle as fast as she could. She knew Billings had locked her inside. But perhaps there was a window she could climb out.

She quickly realized there were no windows from which to escape through, they’d all been boarded up. Instead, she found a dark corner that was blocked off by a trough in one of the far stalls. She squatted down in the corner and waited.

She could hear Robbie’s footsteps coming closer to her. He’d probably taken the time to properly clean himself up with a handkerchief before bothering to pick up his lantern and start his search for her, she thought sourly. The man had always been vain. Immature, but vain.

“I know you’re still here,” he called from a stall away from the one she was hiding in.

Madison’s foot slipped a bit and her backside hit the ground. She put her hands down to help push her off the ground, and stilled when her hand landed on something round and hard, the size of an egg. Without thought, she picked it up and put it in her lap as she kicked off her slipper and peeled down her stocking. She’d hoped it wouldn’t come to this. But apparently it had; and she needed to be ready in case she had to knock some sense into him—literally.

Robbie’s feet shuffled down the hall and Madison’s heart picked up its pace when she heard his hand hit the door of the stall she was in. Besides the slivers of sunlight sneaking in through the space between the wooden planks of the exterior walls, his lantern was the only source of light. She hoped it was dark enough in the room she was in that he’d just do a quick glance and move on.

The door creaked on its rusty hinges and Robbie came into the room. She dared not make any movements as she held her breath and waited for him to move on.

“I know you’re in here, Madison,” Robbie said tonelessly. “Just come on out and we’ll talk. Don’t make me move that trough and pull you out.”

Madison’s mouth went dry and her breath caught in her throat. Was he bluffing? Or had he seen her? Very carefully, she clenched the hand that held the hard object and her stocking and moved them behind her back before standing up. “All right, Robbie. What do you want?”

“You,” he said with a slow smile.

She shook her head. “As I already explained, that is not an option.”

Robbie’s face went red and he shook his head. “That’s not the right answer,” he said angrily, reaching into the back of his trousers. “I will have you, or no one else will.”

Madison tried to keep panic from settling in her chest as he brought a pistol from his waistband and leveled it at her. “Now, Robbie,” she said calmly, using her sweaty palms to work her stocking just right. “There’s no need to be rash. You’ve a lot going for you in America. There’s no need to ruin your life because a temporary sense of disappointment.”

He laughed harshly and the gun tip waved wildly. “It’s not so grand, I assure you,” he said roughly.

“And how is harming me going to change anything?”

“It’s not,” he said with a shrug. “But if I can’t enjoy you, no one else will be able to, either.” He cocked his gun and pointed it in her direction. “Anything you want me to tell your widower?”

“No. There’s nothing to say. He’ll not be made a widower today,” she said firmly, her fingers still working her stocking behind her back. She’d have only one shot at this and didn’t want to miss due to her carelessness.

“What’s behind your back?” Robbie barked. “Show me your hands.”

Madison’s hands stayed safely behind her back as she grabbed the two ends of her stocking and got ready to whip it forward and fling the rock at him.

Robbie’s free hand reached out to grab her and Madison jumped back. “Get away, or I’ll hit you,” she yelled.

“With what?” he taunted. “Are you going to throw a pebble at me?”

“As a matter-of-fact, I am,” she said proudly, bringing her newly fashioned weapon out from behind her back. She knew she looked foolish holding a rock-like object wrapped in a stocking, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

He laughed. “You’ll never hit me with that. Watching Brooke doesn’t make you an expert,” he explained rather rudely.

“And who do you think taught her?” Madison countered coolly, bringing her makeshift weapon up above her head and giving it a hard spin.

His eyes went wide and he jumped back in shock, accidentally squeezing the cocked trigger, making the gun fire. Simultaneously, Madison let go of one end of her stocking and the egg-shaped object flew out and hit the hand Robbie was using to hold his gun, eliciting the most excruciatingly painful scream she’d ever been subjected to hear as her victim lost his grip on his gun and dropped to the floor to wallow in pain.

“Madison! Madison!” a new voice boomed a second later as its owner ran through the door of the dairy, leading with his shoulder, taking the door, hinges and all, with him as he barged through.

“I’m all right,” she said with a weary smile when she saw her frantic husband rush to her side. “It was this ninny you heard scream,” she explained, pointing to Robbie who was rolling around on the ground writhing in pain.

“I’m not a ninny,” he said with a sneer.

Madison snorted. “Yes, you are. You had a gun and I had a rock—or at least I hope it was a rock it could have been a petrified piece of a cow pat for all I know.” She wiped her hand on her skirt and grimaced. “You missed me by a good ten feet,” she pointed to the bullet hole in the stall wall that was at ankle level and in the opposite direction she was standing in, “and I hit you dead on where I was aiming.” She flashed her husband a bright smile, which he didn’t return.

“We’ll talk later about why you’re not with Jamison,” Benjamin said sternly to Madison before turning to Robbie. He placed his booted foot on the man’s chest. “You have a lot to answer for.”

Robbie made a choking sound in his chest and tried to use his uninjured hand to bat at Benjamin’s foot.

Benjamin applied more pressure to Robbie’s chest and a cracking noise broke the silence. When more moans and whimpers resulted, Benjamin swore and removed his foot from Robbie’s chest. “Get up,” he barked.

Robbie rolled around on the ground, making no move to get up.

Benjamin grunted with irritation, then reached down with one hand and yanked Robbie to standing position before slamming him into wall and holding them there with his hand, squeezing Robbie’s neck so tightly his mouth hung open and he made strangled choking sounds.

“Benjamin, stop,” Madison said, placing her hand on Benjamin’s flexed forearm. “He’s not worth it.”

Benjamin’s cold eyes snapped to hers. “I know that,” he spat. “I don’t plan to kill him.” He brought his eyes back to Robbie. “Not until I find out a few things first, that is,” he amended.

Robbie’s bloodshot eyes widened in fear.

“Benjamin, the gallows,” Madison whispered.

“I’ll not be going to the gallows,” Benjamin assured her, as he tightened his grip. “As for him, he’s a dead man either way. If I don’t kill him, he
will
go to the gallows for his attempted murder of both a duke and a duchess.”

Robbie made a sound of severe distress and soiled himself.

“Not to worry,” Benjamin said with a mock reassuring smile. “You’ll not be alone. Your partner in crime will be dangling right along with you.”

Madison’s eyes went wide.
Billings.
Benjamin had to be talking about Billings since he was the one who locked her into the dairy. How had he known?

Robbie made another choking noise and Benjamin relaxed his grip—slightly. “Now, are you going to tell me who’s been helping you, or am I going to have to beat it out of you?” He made a fist and pulled it back where Robbie could see.

Robbie swallowed convulsively and looked down the aisle to where the door of the dairy once stood. Benjamin and Madison followed his gaze and their eyes went as wide as Robbie’s when they saw the whole far end of the dairy was on fire.

“What do we do, Benjamin,” Madison cried, panic evident in her voice.

Benjamin dropped Robbie and stepped back as the weaker man collapsed to his knees. “We’ve got to get out the other end,” Benjamin said firmly, his eyes searching the rest of the structure for an opening of some sort to leave. He looked down at Madison’s feet. “Go put your other slipper on,” he barked. “I’ll be right back.” He scooped down and snatched up Robbie’s forgotten gun then ran down the end of the hall.

Madison quickly put her abandoned slipper back on and watched as Benjamin came running back down the aisle with an axe. Benjamin carelessly grabbed Robbie by the arm, dragging his body as he ran to the other end of the dairy. Madison was only a step behind and almost crashed into Benjamin when he suddenly stopped.

“Back up,” he commanded. He brought the axe above his shoulder and got ready to swing.

“Stop!” Madison screamed. She pointed through the slats where someone stood outside with a large flaming torch running it down the middle of the wall where Benjamin was about to axe.

Benjamin jumped back just in time to not get scorched by the fresh flames that licked their way through the old, dead wood.

Madison stepped back and hit her hip on a stray board. “Ouch,” she said automatically, rubbing her hip.

“Good thinking, my girl,” Benjamin said with a thin smile. “I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he added, brushing a quick kiss across her cheek. He bent down and grabbed Robbie off the ground then slung him over his shoulder as if he were nothing but a bag of feathers. “Come.”

Madison quickly followed behind Benjamin as he went into a little dark space then climbed up a hidden ladder. At the top was a lighted loft covered in scattered hay. “A window,” Madison breathed, standing motionless as Benjamin dropped Robbie’s body by the window.

“Right,” Benjamin said, nodding. Using his elbow, he broke the pane of glass in the middle and knocked as much out around the edges as he could. “This’ll have to do. I’m going to jump down first. Then when I tell you to, you’ll jump to me. Understand?”

A lump of unease settled in her chest. She didn’t want to jump out a window. It had to be more than fifteen feet from the bottom of that windowsill to the rocky ground. That could kill her. “Is there no other way?” she asked, panic making her voice waver.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, but no,” he said sadly. “You’ll have to jump. You’ll be all right, I promise. I’ll be right there,” he assured her, throwing his leg over the window. Without waiting for another protest, he dropped to the ground.