Page 37 of The Gift of Patience
“They flashed back. What does that mean?”
“Message received.”
“Excellent. Let’s go.”
As they slid down from the tree, Devil thought he had his chance. He thought wrong. As he kicked out, Ashley took his leg and twisted it. He spun and fell down, Ashley landing atop him with a quick blow to the ribs causing Devil to lose his breath. Ashley could feel beneath him as he gasped, trying to catch air through the pain.
“They won’t be patient much longer,” Devil said as they wrestled the ropes behind him this time.
“Neither will we,” Baines growled. “As soon as you tell us what and whom you’re waiting for.”
“I can’t,” he spat.
They walked a few feet, Devil no longer fighting.
“It’s your boy you’re worried about. He’s threatened him.”
Devil nodded reluctantly. “I need to get to him first.”
“What if we agree to take care of him? Transportation does not have to be a death sentence. We could arrange for the both of you to have decent accommodation for the right information.”
“I heard they lock you in cells and most don’t survive the trip.”
Finally, he was showing some interest.
“It depends on the level of prisoner. Arrangements can be made. Not everyone on those ships is a prisoner,” Ashley explained. He could tell Devil was contemplating the information. “Why do you not sleep on the idea? Tell us in the morning. I have to get to the dinner.”
“I will join you since we are done for the night,” Fielding announced.
“Jolly good of you.”
“It is rather,” the captain agreed.
Their horses were already saddled, so they mounted and took the bridle path towards the Fagge estate. As they rode, Ashley thought about what had happened that night and he had a nagging feeling that the answer was right under his nose. Was it the link between the two estates that was the key?
At least they had made progress that night. He was certain Devil could be persuaded to give up his leader.
As they arrived at the stables and dismounted, he checked his watch. Only half an hour late. Not late enough for his tastes.
CHAPTER 10
Patience was annoyed. Not only had Major Stuart neglected to accompany them to the dinner, but he was late. It was clear that Lady Fagge was also irritated by the slight and was holding off dinner as long as possible.
The drawing room, though perhaps once the height of fashion, bore the marks of shabbiness compared to the splendour of Taywards. Faded damask curtains and worn carpets gave evidence to that theory. The elegant furniture, though crafted from fine mahogany, showed signs of wear, with threadbare upholstery and the occasional creak of overuse. Apparently, all of the Fagge funds went to Rupert’s toilette.
She’d already endured Rupert’s clammy hands and spittle in her face. Why did he not wear gloves? And why must he stand so close?
It would have been much better if all of the soldiers had been able to attend that night so she would not feel cornered by the attentions of one person, but at least when Major Stuart finally arrived, she knew she’d have an ally.
As she tried to discreetly wipe away the latest spray of spittle from Rupert’s machinations about something or other, she remembered that they were supposed to be considering any ofthe neighbours that might have involvement in the scheme and or who might be delivering missives to Devil.
She scanned the party that had gathered thus far. By far the largest group was that of the Fagges with their three daughters and two sons. It was hard to imagine any of them with enough wits to organize such an operation as they behaved as though they all shared one brain together. Perhaps it was harsh, but they had yet to convince her otherwise.
The remainder of the party, besides the one from Taywards, consisted of the other local gentry. A vicar and his wife who were elderly with twenty grandchildren and as sweet as could be. A very unlikely candidate.
The only other possibility was the Honourable Charles Greening, the third son of a viscount, who did not strike her as anything but refined. He was well-mannered and unpretentious—well-dressed but not a dandy who overspent his income. His wife was elegant, but quiet, and spoke of their three young children with love.
No one fit the bill of someone she would call a scheming criminal. For that’s what would be necessary to steal a shipment of arms from the government, was it not?
