Page 124 of Thief of the Ton
“Nevertheless, we should go after him,” the earl said.
“No,” Peregrine said. “We must go back. John needs a doctor, and the highwayman will be long gone. I’ll search for him in the morning.”
“This is nonsense,” the earl said. “My ship sails tomorrow.”
“You’re going nowhere, Father,” Peregrine said.
“I must agree with Lord Marlow,” Houseman said. “You’re a witness, Lord Walton. We’ll need you to ensure the man hangs.”
Hangs…
Peregrine swallowed the bile rising in his throat and glanced at his father, whose lips were curved into a cold smile of satisfaction.
“I should like that.” The earl glanced at the footman. “Return to your position.”
The footman retrieved his hat and placed it on his head. “Very good, your lordship.”
“There’s no need for that, John,” Peregrine said. “Your ankle’s hurt. Come inside the carriage.”
“Where to, Lord Marlow?” the driver asked.
“Back to Marlow Park.”
Ignoring his father’s protests, Peregrine ushered the footman and Houseman into the carriage, then climbed in after them. The driver cracked the whip, steered the carriage in a tight circle, then set off in the direction in which they had come.
After they arrived at Marlow Park, Peregrine helped the footman out, followed by Houseman and his father.
“We should go after the highwayman,” Houseman said.
“I’ll go in the morning.”
Houseman stared at him. “I’ll come with you—unless you have a particular reason for wanting to go alone?”
Damn, the man was suspicious—and he had every right to be.
Peregrine spoke to the driver. “Make sure the carriage is ready in the morning. Houseman and I will begin our search then. Be ready at nine.”
“As you wish, sir.”
The driver cracked the whip, and the carriage rolled away.
“I think it’s time for a brandy,” the earl said. “What say you, Houseman?”
“Thank you, sir—I’d like that.”
The two of them entered the building as if they had just returned from dinner at White’s, leaving Peregrine with the footman.
“Shall I send for a doctor, John?” Peregrine asked.
“No, sir, my ankle’s a little sore, but I’ll live.” The footman hesitated. “Don’t be too hard on…him, sir.”
“Who—my father?”
“No, the highwayman. The earl might want retribution, but in that highwayman’s eyes I saw no evil—only fear.”
Peregrine smiled. “Never fear, John,” he said. “I know the difference between justice and retribution. Would you see to it that my horse is saddled and ready to ride tomorrow morning?”
“At nine, so you can travel with Mr. Houseman?”
