Page 57 of The Remarkable Myth of a Nameless Lady
“Well, who is he?” her father pressed.
Alicia held her breath.
“You’ll not believe it.” Cormac smirked.
Her father sighed in frustration. “Who is it?”
“Is it all right to say this in front of your lass?” Cormac shot a glance back at her.
Her father nodded effusively. “Of course it is. She’s one of us, ain’t she? She’s been at the manor, working for us all this time. Anything you can say to me, you can say to her.” He directed a pointed look at her, as though there were words dancing on the tip of his tongue that he could not, and would not, say.
So, I am not a betrayer anymore?She could not fathom the change in her father’s behavior. Was it the coughing fit? Was it his guilt? Or was it something more? Did her father want her to hear, so she might discover evidence that could stop the Ribbonmen from enacting tomorrow’s attack? Maybe, after all this time, her father had finally learned that violence and bitterness would not solve the predicament of the Irish.
“Well then… it’s Lord Owen.” Cormac grinned. “Can you believe it? He’s the one what’s been giving us all that money and them weapons, and he’s going to let us into the house tomorrow night so we can have our justice against the English. Turns out, he really is an Irishman at heart.”
Alicia’s stomach plummeted.Lord Owen is in charge of the Ribbonmen?
“Then who shot Elias?” Her father leant forward in his chair. “I thought the target was Lord Owen?”
Cormac shook his head. “The target was the Duke. Come on, man, use your head. Why would anyone target a fella like Lord Owen?”
“As for who shot him, I am afraid that was me.” Mistress Marigold looked up sheepishly. “I was instructed to shoot the Duke, but I missed. I am sorry for it.”
“Youshot him?” Alicia’s father barked.
“It was an unfortunate accident,” Mistress Marigold replied defensively. “I wouldn’t have missed if your daughter hadn’t caused a ruckus with Lord Owen and Meghan here, meaning I had to work much quicker than anticipated. I suppose she didn’t know there was a plot afoot, but I had to fire swiftly and get out of there before anyone else saw me. The Duke might have looked up at any moment, or Alicia might have spotted me and cried bloody murder, not knowing my reason for being there at the window.”
Alicia could hardly breathe. Mistress Marigold and Meghan had been on the side of the Ribbonmen, all this time, and she had not known. They had been aware that Lord Owen was the one leading the entire thing.
Jacob…A sudden terror jolted into her chest. If Lord Owen was the leader of the Ribbonmen and had tried to have his brother taken out by Mistress Marigold, then Jacob was in more danger than he realized.
The door still stood open, and the gathered crowd were deep in conversation, discussing the events that had brought Meghan and Mistress Marigold here. Even the two ladies had barely given Alicia a second glance, for they likely thought that she was still in cahoots with the Ribbonmen, too. Why else would she have been here, with her father?
Taking a nervous breath, she edged along the wall and slipped out before anyone could see her. She did not know how much time she had, but she was determined to get a head-start, if the assembly of Ribbonmen suspected she was up to something.
Running a short way up the road, she stopped. “Tom?”
He appeared from the darkness, as silent as a predator. “Miss Price.”
“We need to ride to the manor and we need to go now!” she whispered.
“Why?”
“I will explain on the way. Please, we must go this instant. I don’t know how much longer we have,” she begged.
Tom nodded and whistled faintly for his horse. As it approached, Tom helped Alicia up into the saddle before getting up behind her. A moment later, he dug in his heels and the horse set off at a rapid pace, pounding along the road.
“His Grace is in danger,” she said, as they rode. “Lord Owen is the one leading the Ribbonmen, and he is the one who ordered someone to shoot His Grace. They missed, but their intention was to kill him.”
Tom growled in anger. “Are you sure?”
“Very sure. I have just heard it, direct from the person who attempted to kill His Grace. If His Grace is in that house, with his brother, then he is in dire trouble.”
“Then hold tight. This may be a rather uncomfortable ride.” Tom snapped the reins, the horse racing faster.
The wind whipped harshly at her face, but she was grateful for it, for it hid the tears that slid down her cheeks. Even if she could not love Jacob as she might have liked to, or have any hope of being loved in return, she could not bear the thought of anything bad happening to him.
What made it worse was the knowledge that Lord Owen could be wandering as he pleased, at that very moment, with the intention of finishing the job that Mistress Marigold could not. Alicia would not have thought it possible for a brother to kill their own blood, but he had already tried that, indirectly. And that meant Lord Owen was capable of just about anything.
