Ripe for Scandal (37 page)

When they reached the stables, his father nodded silently and staggered toward the house. Beau was standing in the yard, black
gown harsh against the pale stone, directing the footmen in the stowage of their baggage.

“Did you really bring that much luggage with you?” he
said, eyeing the numerous trunks and portmanteaus that were being strapped down.

“I have my mourning clothes, your mourning clothes, as well as everything we were traveling with previously.” She put her
foot on the step, jet sparkling on the buckle of her shoe, poised to enter and depart. “I wasn’t sure what I would need and
I didn’t want to take the time to sort it.”

She ducked her head, climbing inside. Gareth followed her, and the coach pitched slightly under his weight before righting
itself as he took the seat beside her. Lady Olivia smiled nervously back at him from the far corner, eyes wide, begging him
not to object.

Gareth smiled. “Making good your escape, my lady?”

CHAPTER 54

G
areth’s head snapped up as Padrig Nowlin came racing into The Red Lion. The man’s face was alight with excitement. “We found
him!” Nowlin said loud enough that the entire room stopped to stare. He blushed and swallowed nervously.

“Jamie?” A surge of excitement flushed through Gareth’s veins. He set his cup down before he dropped it and spilled coffee
all over himself and the table.

Nowlin’s face fell. “Granby. When he wasn’t at Dover, it occurred to me that he might try Ireland first. He has money there.
And a house. From there, he might escape with his fortune to America, or the Continent. Sir Tobias wrote to the local magistrates
of all the cities where a man could get a packet to Ireland. A one-eyed man boarded a packet in Bristol two days ago. Sir
Tobias has sent a man to Dublin, and I’ve come to report to you.”

The rush of excitement built inside him. Catching Granby wouldn’t bring Souttar back, but it was a start. Watching him hang
would bring some small amount of
satisfaction, and it would mean knowing that Beau was finally safe.

Gareth stood and dusted off his hands. “Race you to Bristol?” he said to a grinning Devere.

Mud spattered across Gareth’s face as Devere cut him off and shot round the mail coach. Beside him, Nowlin cursed and clung
to the seat as they did the same. The light sporting phaeton bounced as it hit a rut, shimmying in a disturbing manner for
several seconds as they flew after Devere.

Gareth snapped the whip and sent it curling back on itself as it recoiled. His team surged, edging up on the other vehicle.
Devere laughed as they passed him, making a rude gesture with one hand.

They’d been running half the night. They were changing horses every eight or ten miles. Money flowing through their fingers
like water.

Nowlin adjusted his muffler, pulling it up to cover his mouth and nose. Gareth flexed his hands on the reins, working to keep
some feeling in them. It was cold. Freezing. And they couldn’t afford to stop.

“Hot bricks at the next change if they have them,” Gareth said, and Nowlin nodded back.

When they reached the outskirts of Bristol, Devere was in the lead, but it was Gareth who rolled into the quiet yard at The
Stag first, setting off a squabble as to who had won the race.

“You’re a cheat,” Devere said, jumping down and handing over the reins to his tiger so his team could be walked.

“I was carrying a full-size passenger.” Gareth braced his foot and held the team in place as the ostlers ran to their heads.
“You had only Wilkins, who’s barely bigger than a child.”

“We need an outsider’s opinion, Mr. Nowlin.” Devere turned to the startled Irishman. “Was the bet first to Bristol, or first
to reach the port?”

Nowlin’s gaze flew to Gareth, eyes wide with trepidation. “First to Bristol, sir. But I think first to reach the port, that
being our destination, was implied.”

Devere rolled his eyes and shook his head. “I need a drink.”

“Next boat for Dublin doesn’t leave for a couple of hours,” Nowlin offered.

“Plenty of time for a drink or two, and a meal besides then.” Gareth pulled his portmanteau from underneath his seat and pushed
past Devere and entered the inn.

Every inch of him ached. His bones felt as though they’d been rattled from their sockets. The others must feel the same. He
should be exhausted, but anger seemed to be serving as a very good substitute for sleep.

CHAPTER 55

D
ust motes filtered through the shafts of sunlight that cut across the darkness of the barn. Beau put her forehead against
Gunpowder’s neck and let the scent of horse and hay wash over her, through her, until that and the warmth of the sun on her
back were the only things that existed.

The gelding stamped his foot, knocking his hoof against the door of his stall, an impatient demand for one of the lumps of
sugar that he knew she kept on her person. She reached into her pocket, hand pushing carefully down past her gown and petticoats.
Her fingers slid over the toy monkey she’d carried there since Jamie’s disappearance. She paused, then dug deeper, finding
the lumps of sugar beneath the toy. She pulled several out and offered one to her horse.

“Greedy beast,” she said as Gunpowder took it, lips brushing across her palm, ears swiveling at the sound of her voice.

“Beau?”

Gunpowder tossed his head at the sound of Leo’s voice. Beau put a hand across his nose and brought his head back down, offering
him another lump of sugar.

Leo was flushed, eyes bright with excitement. Beau’s pulse fluttered, and she braced herself against the stall door.

Leo smiled as he strode toward her. “We have an emissary,” he said, gesturing toward a man behind him. The man was swarthy,
with dark curls spilling out below his red woolen cap, and he wore a sash instead of a waistcoat. He barely reached Leo’s
shoulder.

“They have Jamie?” The lump in her throat pushed into her chest, burning as it went.

Leo glanced down at the man before speaking, “Tobar, the
rom baro
of one of the large clans of horse traders, has invited us to visit him. He sent Yoska here to bring us to them.”

The gypsy smiled, teeth flashing against his dark skin.

“That’s all he said? That we’ve been invited to visit?” She couldn’t keep the disappointment from her voice.

“Yoska doesn’t
seem
to speak much English,” her brother replied, stressing the one word. “So he didn’t even say that much. What he did say was
Tobar
and
come
. I spoke to Tobar myself not a week ago. He wouldn’t send for us for no reason. If he doesn’t have Jamie, he knows who does.
If we leave now, we can be there by nightfall.”

When they reached the Romani camp, the moon had already risen, a tiny sliver of silver filtering through the trees. Beau was
shaking with anticipation. She flexed her
hands and then balled them into fists, skirts clutched tight within them. There was music in the camp. And a fire. And horses.
Lots and lots of horses. Beau recognized Tobar immediately. She’d gone with Leo on more than one occasion to the various horse
fairs, and Tobar was always there. A big, bluff man with a quick smile and two missing front teeth.

A hush fell over the camp as they were spotted, and their guide disappeared into the crowd. Tobar stood up and came to greet
them. “Lord Leonidas, I think we have your lost colt.”

“We certainly hope so,” Leo responded. “And we’re very grateful.”

Tobar motioned with his hand, and a woman broke away from the fire. “Plenty of
Romanipen
in this one,” Tobar said. “Like you, my lord. I almost hate to give him up.”

“Where did you find him?” Beau said, knowing she should stay quiet, but unable to do so.

Tobar turned to look at her. “With my cousin’s people, lady. But they were too afraid to return him. After all,” he said bitterly,
“everyone knows gypsies steal children.”

Before Beau could respond, the woman whom Tobar had sent to fetch Jamie returned, leading a sleepy boy by the hand. Jamie
yawned and blinked before flinging himself at Beau.

Beau crouched down and smoothed her hand over his curls. “Hello, puss.”

“Want to go home. Want Mokee.”

“Yes, little man,” Beau said. “I’ve got Mokee right here.” She pulled the battered toy out of her pocket
and handed it over. Jamie held up his arms, and Beau scooped him up, staggering slightly under his weight. “What have you
been feeding him? He feels like he’s gained a stone.”

Tobar smiled and winked. “That one eats anything.”

CHAPTER 56