Page 62 of To Tempt a Troubled Earl
“Something like that.”
Panting slightly from his exertion, Kit followed the direction of the earl’s gaze. His eyes landed on a ruined cottage, half of its wooden roof beams and part of a clay outer wall in an untidy heap next to it, as though carelessly trampled by a giant’s boot.
“Gartside’s property?” Kit hazarded. Though unmarked by stones or wooden stumps, the boundary separating the Gartside estate and Rossingley was as clearly drawn as if ribbons festooned the trees. One side thrived, verdant and neat; its forlorn neighbour withered. But it didn’t need to. Land was land, and with a firm, knowledgeable hand, there was no reason both sides couldn’t match.
“No. Mine now.” With an odd expression, Lando’s eyes flicked to Kit’s. “I bought it from him before leaving London. For a sum less than half of what it’s worth.”
“A steal,” Kit commented, recalling Lando’s drunken promise all those weeks ago. “Though I am at a loss to see how you managed it. I left the party a little prematurely, if you recall, with the belief that Clark was rather ruining things. But it was all part of your plan, wasn’t it?”
Lando inclined his head. “Yes, Clark quite played into my hands.”
Kit felt a flash of irritation. “Feel free to share. Gloat, too, if you like.”
“That is not my style.” He paused before continuing. “Robert, my brother, discovered a secret your runner would prefer his employers never uncovered. For a modest tenant farmer, he has rather a talent for unearthing such things. But Clark is not a man lacking in pride, and you sorely tested it, as well as his patience. Thus—” Lando gave Kit a hint of a teasing smile. “—Robert permitted him to arrest you in public. To humiliate you. Thereby saving his own face and having the brief satisfaction of putting you in irons.”
“And throwing me down a flight of steps.” This tale was all well and good, but Kit still failed to see how Gartside was involved.
“My apologies, Kit. He deviated from the script.”
“There was a script?” Kit’s puzzlement grew even more.
“Yes, can you not recall his words? Robert will be so disappointed. We spent a long while perfecting them.”
Wrinkling his brow, Kit replayed his arrest and Clark’s accusations in his mind. It had all been a bit of a blur, but one curious part of it he remembered well:For gross larceny amounting to more than one shilling against Sir Ambrose Gartside, amongst others.
Two hundred pounds amounted to more than one shilling. But so did a silver snuff box. And a silk pocket square. Along with a hundred other bits and bobs pilfered from well-heeled ladies and gentlemen of the ton.Sir Ambrose Gartside amongst others.Why him? Why that particular gentleman?
With a rush of clarity, Clark’s words made perfect sense.
“He has no knowledge of the bribe!” Kit crowed. “He arrested me for petty pilfering, didn’t he? For pinching snuffboxes and handkerchiefs and thruppenny bits!”
Lando almost beamed. “He knew you as a pocket thief and a card sharp, nothing more.”
I’m arresting you for heinous wrongdoings against multiple honest gentlemen of the town. For false representation of yourself.Ye gods, Lando was a genius!
“But he arrested me in such a manner that Gartside and Cobham and Sir Richard were led to believe it was for masquerading as a government officer!”
“Yes.” With a modest little toss of his hair, Lando sat even straighter in the saddle, trying not to look smug. “As I said, Clark had a script. He had no idea about the rest of it. It is a pity you missed the moment Gartside confessed to giving you money. The words fairly tumbled from him. Despair leaked from his every pore. And I discovered, as Gartside’s jaw can attest, that my shy and retiring cousin is quite the pugilist. You should be proud. Your sister has been well and truly avenged.”
Still, Kit was uncertain. “But Clark gave you an arrest warrant. I saw it. You read aloud from it.”
“What you saw was an invitation to the esteemed Lady Butterworth’s ball. I read out, from memory, the lines my brother Robert and I crafted. After you were carted away, and Clark out of earshot, I read out the supposed remainder of it. Thatan arrest warrant has been issued for a Mr Christopher Angel of Sindell Street, London, for gross larceny and for masquerading as a senior member of His Majesty’s Customs. Thus prompting a petrified Gartside to confess.” The corners of Lando’s lips gently curved upwards. “The invitation has since been added to my ‘burn until there is nothing left but a heap of ash’ pile.”
Kit’s mind raced forward. “So, realising his honour was destroyed, Gartside desperately needed to unload the estate, to pay of his debtors, and you gave him a helping hand.”
“Quite.” Lando agreed, inclining his head again. “That is the shorter version of events, certainly. Though I shan’t own it for long. I intend to give it away.”
“Give it away?” Kit scoffed. “To whom?”
“To someone who will care for it, restore it, and become an excellent and close neighbour.” Lando allowed himself a small smile. “If my intended owner accepts my gift.”
Kit barked a laugh. “Are people queuing up to reject gifts as fine as this one?”
“I hope not.” Lando tipped his head to properly look down at Kit for the first time, the hazy sunlight catching the whiteness of his hair and making it shine. “But people are notoriously strange, don’t you find?” He looked across to the imaginary line separating his well-tended land from his new acquisition. “You think you know somebody, and yet, they manage to astonish you.”
“You’d know all about that,” Kit answered. “I have no clue as to what you’re conjuring up in that pretty head of yours from one day to the next.”
Acknowledging him with a nod, Lando carried on. “One day, I hope I will not be able to discern where my borders begin and this estate’s end. The boundary will be in name only. The new owner and I shall be able to wander freely across it whenever we choose.”
