Amanda Scott (59 page)

Tallyn was furious. “What the devil do you think you are about? We might have stopped them here!”

Lyford looked at Gwenyth. “Yes, love, what have we been about, if I might ask?”

She was still out of breath, but she stared at him. “I thought you knew what I was doing.”

“Didn’t really think about it,” he said. “Saw you’d thought of something and needed help, that’s all.”

She opened her mouth twice before the words would come. “I hoped they would run aground. You said if the gate was opened too soon, the heavier barges often ran aground because the river dropped too quickly to allow them to reach the opening on the swell. But we were too late. Look!”

The barge was moving more swiftly, riding the fast current. Pamela screamed at them as it swept past into the white water, and Gwenyth watched in dismay, but before Tallyn had opportunity to tell either her or Lyford what he thought of them, there was a heavy, grating crunch, then louder screams from Pamela, and the barge ran aground on the huge bar of gravel that had been thrown up by the back currents below the gate. When the barge tilted crazily, Gwenyth watched in shock as Pamela was flung head over heels into the water.

“Joss,” Gwenyth screamed, “she can’t swim!”

Both men began to run, but Tallyn was ahead and, without a word, ripped off his coat and boots and flung himself into the swiftly moving river. Across the way, Big Joe Ferguson was also in the water, swimming powerfully toward the barge. On the barge itself, only one man was still armed. It was the same one who had slapped Pamela, and Gwenyth decided he must be Powell. Two of his men had fallen into the river, and the third seemed to have lost his pistol. Jared was bending over the countess.

Powell lifted his gun, but even as Gwenyth drew breath to shout a warning to the swimmers, she saw the old countess push Jared aside, raise her cane, and bring it crashing down upon Powell’s wrist. The pistol went flying, and Powell and the third man turned angrily toward her, but Jared knocked Powell’s man into the river just as the countess whacked the length of her cane with all her considerable strength across Powell’s midsection. Doubling in pain, he crumpled against one of the bales of tobacco, and the old lady stood over him, triumphant, her cane held aloft, clearly daring him to move.

Just then Lyford shouted, “This way, Tallyn, to me, man!”

Gwenyth snatched up her skirts and followed him, arriving as Tallyn reached the riverbank, where Lyford helped him carry the gasping, choking Pamela to shore. As Tallyn knelt to lay her upon the ground, she clung to him.

“Don’t leave me!”

“I won’t,” he said calmly, “but we must get you warm, and we’ve got to bring those fellows to shore, as well.”

“No need to bother your head about them,” Lyford said. He had been watching the water, and Gwenyth, following his gaze, saw that Joe Ferguson and the scufflehunters had Powell and his cohorts well in hand. A rowboat was approaching the barge, and a rope had been thrown to Jared.

“Good,” Lyford murmured. “Barge seems pretty well stuck, but it’s as well to have them off quickly. Don’t want to lose the countess, or Jared either.”

Gwenyth glanced up at him. “The countess, sir? Not Grandmother?”

He shook his head, grinning at her. “Seeing her like this, I’d say she’s earned the right to be called whatever she likes.”

Gwenyth smiled back at him, but she could see little humor in the situation. “What will happen now, sir?”

“They’ll row them over here, of course, and I aim to have a few choice words with Jared. Good God, is that Newton?”

Turning, Gwenyth saw that the old gentleman was nearly upon them. To her astonishment, he was on horseback, and if his mount was not galloping, it was certainly maintaining a respectable canter. “What’s toward, Lyford?” he shouted as he drew rein. “Where’s Almeria? And Pamela? Oh, there you are, child. Didn’t see you at first behind Tallyn’s bulk. You are all wet!”

Pamela was still clinging to Tallyn, but she managed a watery smile. “I shall be better directly, sir, if I can only get warm again.”

“Well, Spenser,” snapped the countess, as the rowboat bumped against the riverbank behind Gwenyth, and one of the scufflehunters helped the old lady to disembark, “I might have known you’d concern yourself with that idiotish young female!”

“Good gracious, Almeria, that you? Whatever are you doing there?” As Gwenyth watched with increasing amusement, he dismounted and strode to take the countess’s hand. “Allow me to assist you. What a remarkable woman you are, to be sure!”

Lady Lyford raised her eyebrows at him. “And you, Spenser, did you truly ride all this way? I cannot credit it. Watch that Powell fellow, Marcus,” she added with a snap, as the boatman helped the man, still clutching his midsection, to the riverbank. When Lyford, assuring himself that the boatman had Powell well in charge, stepped forward to speak to Jared, the countess turned back to Sir Spenser, her plump countenance softening. “Tell me what happened after that jackanapes abducted us.”

“Tallyn found me moments later and commanded me to let my servants look after me,” he said, returning her smile and continuing to hold her hand in his. “But I’ve taken more than one knock in my life, my dear, and I could not simply sit there and wait, not knowing what had become of you.”

“Of young Pamela, I suppose you mean to say,” she said with an unsuccessful attempt at wry humor.

“No, my dear. I cannot imagine why you must persist in thinking I’ve a particular tenderness for Miss Beckley. She has done me the honor to beg my advice from time to time, seeing in me something of her own father, I daresay.”

“You would have me believe that she came to you today to ask your advice?”

“Indeed.” He glanced at Pamela, now covered with Lyford’s coat, but still reclining against Lord Tallyn. “Not that I think she really needed my help. Her own feelings appear to have led her aright.” Looking at Gwenyth, who was also watching the pair, he said, “I daresay you will have guessed her mind, my dear.”

She nodded. “I’m afraid it was a case between them from the start, sir,” she said.

Lady Lyford looked from one to the other. “You mean that idiotish wench wants Tallyn? Good gracious!”

“You ought to have known, Almeria,” Sir Spenser said, looking fondly at her. “I have been steadfast these many years.”

Pamela stirred in Tallyn’s arms and said with a wan smile, “What did I tell you, Gwen?”

“See here,” Tallyn said, “we must get Miss Beckley to the house before she catches her death!”

“You are a trifle damp too, Joss,” Gwenyth pointed out.

“Never mind me,” he retorted. “I’ll take her up myself.”

“What about those impudent men?” the countess demanded.

Lyford joined them in time to hear her question. “Ferguson and his lads have them all in charge,” he said. “Jared tells me Powell killed Silas Ferguson, so we may trust Big Joe to keep them close until a constable can be sent for.”

“Or Antony,” Gwenyth murmured.

“I’ll deal with Antony,” he told her.

“And what about Jared?” the countess asked in a more subdued tone. “I cannot think he had much to do with all this, but he said more than once on that barge that it was all his doing!”

“We’ll sort it out at the house,” Lyford told her gently. “Tallyn, you’re soaked, man. Let me carry her.”

But this Tallyn would not allow, so they all followed him back to the house, making such a commotion when they entered that Lady Cadogan heard them and hung over the wrought-iron railing of the soaring stair to demand to know what was going on.

Jared looked pleadingly at Lyford. “May we speak privately?” he asked.

The countess, hearing him, banged her cane on the floor. “Try it, and see how far you get, my lads. I want an explanation, and you aren’t either of you setting a step out of my presence until I get one!”

Sir Spenser beamed at her. “Good for you, Almeria. We’ll have a round tale yet.”

Lady Cadogan called down to them, “Are you coming up or shall I come down?”

In the end, except for Tallyn and Pamela, who went to their bedchambers to get dry, they all adjourned to the Chinese drawing room, and Jared, with more courage than anyone might have expected from him, did his best to explain. “I don’t know how it started,” he said. “When Grandpapa died and Father said I was to take over Marcus’s duties, I didn’t want them, so when Powell offered to look after things, I leapt at his offer. I never knew that he and our London agent had cooked up the scheme with the drawback. Powell began slipping me money from time to time without explaining where it came from.”

“You didn’t ask?” Lyford’s tone was grim.

Jared shook his head, looking shamefaced. “I’d never learned enough about the business to know it wasn’t customary. Always had someone else do the work.”

Gwenyth remembered Lyford’s having said Jared had been the sort of schoolboy who made his fags do all the work. She remembered, too, that anyone who asked him about his business was referred to Powell.

Lyford had clearly been thinking along similar lines, for he said, “I didn’t think Powell had enough authority to have pulled all this off, but I collect you had given him such authority.”

Jared nodded. “Not until Sir Antony showed up here did I realize that something was seriously amiss. You had suggested that Silas Ferguson’s death was no accident, Marcus, and there was Sir Antony asking me a lot of damned awkward questions about possible mishandling of customs and excise money. I got the wind up, and when you went to London, I confronted Powell. He said the money I’d accepted made me party to the whole. Said if I didn’t keep my mouth shut, I’d go to prison. Shall I have to go now?”

The countess declared acidly, “I am not quite nobody, I hope. No grandson of mine is going to prison.”

Jared smiled weakly at her, but turned to Lyford for reassurance. “Marcus? I swear I didn’t know before that, but I was criminally stupid, I suppose.”

Lyford put a hand on his shoulder. “I think we can keep you out of prison, coz, but this might be an excellent time for you to learn a good deal more about the business.”

“I want to! I never want anyone taking advantage of me like that again!”

Gwenyth looked at Lyford. “Travel, sir?”

“Barbados first, I think,” he said. “There’s a ship setting sail from Bristol within the week.”

“Barbados!” Jared exclaimed. He did not look as though the prospect of an ocean voyage thrilled him, but when Lyford nodded, he did not argue. His ordeal was not yet finished, however, for the countess and Lady Cadogan had more questions to ask him, and Sir Spenser added his mite as well.

Under cover of their conversation, Lyford leaned closer to Gwenyth. “I want to talk to you, my love, about a matter of grave importance. If you insist, we can attempt it here, but I confess I’d prefer a quieter place. Will you walk with me to my library? They will not miss us, I think, for some moments.”

Looking at him in astonishment, Gwenyth chuckled. “Do you truly think this an appropriate time for private conversation, sir? I cannot credit it.”

He grinned at her. “I do not intend to let you put this off, Gwen, so make up your mind to it that I shall have my say. I have let you put me off before and then found I did not get you alone for days afterward.”

“Not days, Lyford, only one day.”

“Nevertheless, do you come, or do I speak here?”

Glancing at the others, still involved in their conversation, she said quietly, “I’ll come, sir.”

In the library, she took her seat in the armchair, but he went to stand beside the fireplace, looking rather uncertain of himself for once. She was glad to see it. It would not do for him to be too sure.

He looked down at her. “I believe you must know what I wish to say, for I have hinted at it often enough, but until now I was persuaded you would not hear me.”

“Oh, no, sir,” she said, smiling at him. “I had determined to hear you, so that I might give you a well-deserved set-down.”

“Ah, then you do know my mind?”

“Do I?”

“I want to marry you, Gwen, but I’ve a small confession to make before I do.”

“You wanted to marry Pamela, after all,” Gwenyth said on a note of satisfaction. “I have cut the minx out.”

He stared at her. “I never had any intention of marrying my idiotish cousin. Indeed, I ought to be offended that you could ever have thought such a thing of me.”

“Well, I only thought it until I met you,” she told him, “but why on earth did you insist she remain at school?”

“I didn’t know what was going on here,” he said. “I, too, was misled by my ignorance. I didn’t see the things that were happening right under my nose, but I did know I needed to learn about the place quickly, and that left little time for Pamela.”

“Well, if it is not that you were crazy in love with her or wanted to marry her for her money, then what must you confess?”

He hesitated for a long moment, then said, “You choose to make light of this, Gwen, and while that gives me hope, it also frightens me witless. I’m not by any means certain that what I’m about to tell you won’t alter things considerably.”

“You’re going to take up your duties with the company again,” she said complacently.

“Not exactly, although there is a good deal to be cleared up before this business is behind us, including replacing my London agent. The fact is, I own half the damned company. I earned it, worked for it, and I don’t believe I want to put it behind me. But having been taught by my grandmother that one does not so much as mention even a slight connection with trade, and having been advised by you that any connection must remain firmly in my past, I was afraid to tell you about it. What do you think?”

In reply, she clasped her hands to her bosom in Pamela’s favorite gesture and, imitating the countess’s severest tones, said, “Lyford, you have grossly deceived me! Are you very rich?”

Instead of casting him down, her words made him grin and step nearer. “You will forgive the connection in return for riches, is that it?”

“Certainly, though I cannot think why you do not spend more on this place if you have the money to do so. I heard Jared say that several of Powell’s men are your own disgruntled tenants.”