Having had difficulty refraining from tapping his heels for the rest of the meeting at Lord Lyndlington’s, for the first time, Davie was content to leave Faith with Maggie as the gentlemen made their departures.
‘Keep her here as long as you can,’ he murmured in Maggie’s ear as she kissed his cheek, adding, ‘I can’t explain now, and don’t ask her,’ when she moved to arm’s length, her eyebrows raised. ‘Can you do that?’
‘Of course,’ she said, giving his hand a squeeze.
‘Duchess,’ he said, turning to Faith, ‘I trust you will try to bend as many ears as possible this coming week, encouraging attendance at Parliament.’
‘Yes, Mr Smith. Thank you again for taking the time to walk with me and fully explain some of the particulars.’
‘It was my privilege.’
‘Mine as well, to talk with so learned and principled a gentleman. Your electors in Hazelwick must have great confidence in you, knowing you are a man who always keeps his promises.’
While Maggie cast a puzzled look from Faith to Davie, he bowed. ‘I trust that I keep my promises to everyone,’ he said pointedly to them both.
Then, telling Giles he had an errand to discharge before meeting him back at the committee room, he walked out.
* * *
Already fairly sure of his destination, Davie chose to walk for a street or two, wanting some quiet time to review his preliminary impressions and confirm a plan of action.
He felt only disgust for a man—he wouldn’t dignify Lord Randall Evers with the title ‘gentleman,’ no matter how high his birth—who would try to coerce a woman into his bed. That the woman the man was trying to coerce was his recently widowed sister-in-law made the attempt even more despicable.
That the woman was Faith made him want to take the man apart limb from limb.
There was nothing that would give him more pleasure than personally showing Evers what it was like to be confronted by a more physically powerful opponent. Though he was confident that such a man was a self-indulgent bully, who, once he was opposed by someone who could inflict more punishment than Evers could deliver, would back off and not menace her again, he’d promised Faith not to undertake the punishing himself.
That was disappointing, and he’d need a good, long session boxing with a worthy opponent to work off the frustration of having to honour that pledge.
On the other hand, the man was sly enough, and vindictive enough, that if Davie did assault him, he might make his accusations anyway, counting on his elevated status and the evidence of Davie’s abuse to give credence to his preposterous claims. To protect Faith into the future, it was probably wiser that the retaliation for Evers’s threat not be traced to him personally.
His authority and opinions might not carry any weight in circles more elevated than Parliament. But there were certain places in which he was well known, his proven competence respected, where he would be able to recruit exactly the assistance he needed.
In this instance, he thought grimly as he hailed a hackney and set off for Bow Street, it was useful to have friends in low places.
* * *
Fortunately, for he didn’t want to explain to Giles what had taken him so long to ‘discharge his errand’, Mr Hines was in his office when Davie arrived.
‘Mr Smith, good to see you again!’ Hines said, waving Davie to a chair. ‘All going well in Parliament, I hear? About to strike a blow for the common man?’
‘We certainly hope so.’
‘As I imagine you are aware, we got a conviction in the case of the man hired to shoot at Lady Roberts—that is, Lady Lyndlington now. With both families involved strongly urging to the judge that clemency be shown, he was transported, rather than hanged.’
‘Let me commend you again for how expeditiously your men handled that case.’
Hines nodded, accepting the compliment as his due—which he should; the man was efficient and fanatically persistent in solving the cases brought to him. ‘Always glad to help out a man who has given us so much assistance from time to time. So, what brings you to me today?’
‘A rather delicate matter, one whose resolution requires discretion and actions that might not precisely follow the letter of the law. Actions, I must warn you, taken against a man of high standing, who could make a lot of trouble for both of us if the business isn’t handled properly.’
‘So it involves a female,’ Hines said, interpreting Davie’s euphemisms. ‘A woman some high-ranking gent is trying to abuse, like that earl’s son in the case of Lady Lyndlington?’
‘Something similar. Though I would far prefer to handle the situation personally, if the...actions could be traced back to me, the man in question might be able to make further trouble for the lady. So I’m looking for two or three skilled individuals, who can perform the actual...intervention.’
Hines nodded thoughtfully. ‘Them higher-ups been bending the law to suit them for centuries. I reckon it’s only fair it be bent a time or two against them—especially if it’s to protect a female. I know you got too much respect for the law to ask me for help on this, if the cause wasn’t right and just. What type of “intervention” do you have in mind?’
Davie described what he envisioned, Hines making suggestions at various points to improve the plan. Within a half hour, they’d worked out a scenario that satisfied them both with its safety and efficiency, and its ability to be implemented soon, perhaps that very night.
Leaving Hines to put the finishing touches on the scheme, with directions about contacting him later to launch it, Davie thanked the man again and took his leave. Knowing that he most likely would be able to snap off the problem of Lord Randall like the branch he’d wanted to break in the garden this afternoon, he was able to return to the committee room calm, resolved and full of purpose.
* * *
It was mid-evening by the time the committee completed its deliberations, and the Hellions were free for the night. Just as they were finishing up, a boy delivered a note to Davie that greatly relieved his mind.
The very efficient Hines had come through again. They’d be able to put the plan into action this very evening.
‘Shall we head off to the Quill and Gavel?’ Ben Tawny’s question interrupted Davie’s thoughts. Rolling his tired shoulders, he added ‘After all those hours bent over documents, I could do with a good roast and a large tankard of ale.’
‘Before you head off to find refreshment of a more intimate and satisfying sort?’ Christopher Lattimer asked with a grin.
‘Naturally,’ Ben replied. ‘You’re welcome to come along. Sally has several friends, all of them as voluptuous and playful as she is.’
‘I just might,’ Christopher said. ‘Giles, you’re off to your lady wife, I expect. Davie, will you join us for dinner? For as we know only too well, you’ll not join us for the festivities after.’
‘Certainly not!’ Ben said. ‘The Saint will return to his empty rooms, to worship at the shrine of “the Unattainable”, and find whatever pleasure he can reading musty old legal documents.’
‘He’s been worse than ever since—for no good reason any of us can tell—he started seeing her again,’ Christopher observed.
‘Well, having beheld her up close, I can better understand why he’s worshipped all these years. Although, Davie, you still know nothing can come of it. Isn’t it time you bowed to reality and set your sights on someone more suitable?’
‘Isn’t it time you both stopped harassing him and let him make that choice?’ Giles interposed.
Refusing to be drawn by their banter, Davie simply shrugged. ‘I can’t join you gentlemen for dinner, either—and not just because you can’t seem to stop pestering me.’
‘I did refrain from pursuing the Vision myself,’ Ben pointed out. ‘You owe me something for that, because she truly is delectable. And after all those years tied to a fool like Ashedon, she deserves a little...frolic, with a man who can make sure she enjoys it.’
Finally goaded beyond endurance, Davie sent Ben a thunderous look that had his friend laughing as he raised his hands protectively in front of his face. ‘Pax! Don’t try that punishing roundhouse punch out on me.’
Reminded of where he wished he could use it, Davie said, ‘You push me very close to the edge, but, alas, that’s not to be. I do have some urgent business to complete, though.’
‘More urgent business?’ Giles asked quietly. ‘Anything the Hellions can help you with?’
‘Not now. Not yet. But if...circumstances develop in that direction, I will certainly let you know.’
‘Then all we can do, is hope the enterprise prospers,’ Giles said.
‘If Davie doesn’t need us, I’m ready for dinner. Come, Christopher, let’s find a good roast.’
‘And then on to more delectable entertainment,’ Christopher added as the two friends sauntered out.
Giles lingered, regarding Davie silently until the other Hellions were out of earshot. ‘You’ve been tense as an overwound watch all day. Are you sure I can’t help?’
‘Not tonight, which I hope will resolve the matter.’
‘Then I will hope so, too.’ Giving him a clap on the arm, Giles said, ‘You’ve done me a good turn more times than I care to mention. Just know I stand ready to return the favour.’
Davie smiled. ‘Considering that, if you hadn’t befriended me in that tavern in Oxford all those years ago, I might be toiling away as a lonely law clerk in some barrister’s office today, rather than working towards the most significant piece of legislation in the last four hundred years, I think we can call ourselves even.’
‘Friends don’t keep score. Don’t forget the offer, though. I’m off to Maggie.’
‘Give her my love.’
‘I’ll do that.’ With a final nod, Giles walked out, leaving Davie in sole possession of the committee room. For a few minutes, he paced the length of it, going over in his mind each step in his plan for the night. Then, satisfied he’d calculated every angle and considered every detail, he squared his shoulders, took a deep breath, and set out.
* * *
The initial move had him strolling into an area of London he seldom visited, a slip of a lad trailing him. Until recently, when the government sinecures he’d been awarded had begun providing him with a steady income, he’d not possessed enough blunt beyond what was essential to pay for his food and lodging, to think of wasting any on gaming. Not that, he thought, looking askance at the knots of young men swaggering down the street from gaming hell to gaming hell, their fine garments proclaiming them as gentlemen of privilege, he could ever have been persuaded to throw away good coin on games of chance.
Solid farm boy that he was, he thought with a wry grin, whenever he got a penny to spare, he’d saved it to invest in good English land—and now possessed a fine small estate, a fact that gave him far more satisfaction than the lucky outcome of a frivolous game.
A moment later, he reached his destination. With his imposing size and prosperous look, he was easily granted access to Aphrodite’s Dice, a hell known both for its deep play and its lovely—and available—women. When the proprietor, spying a gent who might be a new pigeon for plucking, tried to induce him to join in some game of chance, he politely declined, informing them he was there as a friend of Mr Hine’s.
The man’s eyes widened before he nodded. ‘Very good, sir. Would you like a glass of wine while you wait?’
Accepting that, he followed the proprietor, who led him into the next room and nodded towards a table. There sat Lord Randall, rolling a pair of the dice featured in the establishment’s name, the glass of brandy in his other hand continually replenished by the scantily attired lovely at his side.
‘The preparations are all made. Did you want to have a word with the gentleman—before?’ the proprietor murmured.
‘Not as yet.’
‘As you wish.’
Giving him a short bow, the proprietor exited, and Davie turned to watch Lord Randall. It appeared, as arranged, he was currently winning, for the stack of counters in front of him had been steadily growing. Intent on the play, his eyes glazed with the feverish look of the hardened gamester, he was oblivious to all else, even the blandishments of the lady wielding the brandy decanter, whom he pushed away when, from time to time, she leaned over to whisper in his ear.
After one particularly successful run, he gave a crow of triumph, leaning back to seize the hand the harlot had rested on his shoulder and pulling it down to rub at his groin. ‘Feel that power, Letty?’ he crowed. ‘Stronger and sweeter than brandy. You’ll be getting a mouthful, soon as I finish off this round.’
Davie only hoped the man hadn’t used such crude terms with Faith. The very thought made him clench his fists, and he had to force himself to remember all the good reasons he couldn’t just walk over and punch Lord Randall in the gut.
Since he’d turned down the offers of the other young ladies who strolled up to accompany him to the card tables, the faro bank—or upstairs—they soon left him alone. He found himself pitying not only the unfortunate women who had to service such clients, but the gaming-crazed young men who seemed unable to walk away from the tables until they’d spent their last coin.
Imagine, he thought—watching as one well-dressed gentleman dropped almost five hundred guineas—having that much blunt, and just tossing it away.
Finally, the moment for which he’d been patiently waiting arrived. Lord Randall, happily finished at his table, pawed up his winnings and staggered upright, leaning on the shoulder of his doxy. As he crossed the room towards the stairway to the chambers above, he finally spotted Davie, and halted.
A slow smile on his face, he patted the doxy on the bottom and said, ‘Go on up, honey. I’ll meet you in a trice.’ Giving her a push towards the stairs, he sauntered over to Davie.
‘Well, well,’ he said, subjecting Davie to a slow, insolent inspection from his boots to the crown of his head. ‘You’re that guttersnipe politician who’s been sniffing around my brother’s wife, aren’t you? Wonder they let so low-born a cur in the place. Might have to take my custom elsewhere.’
‘I’m sure they’ll be delighted if you do. The women, at least.’
‘Ah, yes, women.’ He smirked. ‘Ashedon’s doxy wife, in particular, eh? Can’t blame you being interested—she’s a choice little morsel. So hot-blooded, I’m having trouble holding her off! But she’s not available—at least, not until I’m done with her.’
Gritting his teeth against the compulsion to knock the varmint to his knees with one well-placed blow, Davie made himself reply calmly, ‘I think you will be “done with her” very soon. Tonight, as a matter of fact.’
‘I will, will I? When I haven’t truly started yet? No, indeed!’ Randall struck an exaggerated pose, hands on hips. ‘You’re thinking you can make me?’
‘I won’t need to. Your conscience is going to persuade you it’s only right to stop harassing your brother’s widow.’
Randall burst out laughing. ‘What, she tell you tales? Say I “threatened” her, or some such? Thing is, she’s so unsophisticated and simple, she exaggerates or misrepresents what she hears.’
Davie nodded. ‘I’m rather unsophisticated and simple myself. But I understand what a bruised wrist represents. So you’re not going to see her again. In fact, you’re not going back to Berkeley Square—ever.’
Randall’s smile faded. ‘You know, you’re not so amusing any more. Why don’t you leave, before I have the proprietor eject you? And if you have the audacity to come around me again, trying to tell a duke’s brother how to treat his women, I’ve got a little warning for you. Persist in this, and I’ll tell the trustees overlooking her brats about the little trysts between you two. Yes, I’ve seen you, bringing her and the sons back in the carriage. Don’t think the trustees would hold with a duchess rutting in the gutter with a commoner—while her dear children watch. I’m guessing they’d whisk those boys away faster than she could find herself a handkerchief to boo-hoo in. Face it, guttersnipe. You can’t help her. You can only destroy her.’
‘Whereas you don’t care if you destroy her,’ Davie said, calling on all the willpower he possessed to keep from pummelling Evers then and there.
Randall smiled again. ‘True. But unlike you, I get what I want.’
As Evers waved a hand dismissively, Davie added, ‘Perhaps. You’d have to be alive to get it, though. Bullies who try to abuse innocent women often suffer unforeseen...accidents. Goodnight, Evers.’
After the insult of neglecting to accord him his title, Davie turned on his heel and walked away. Having confirmed all that Faith had confessed and more, it was time to initiate the second part of the plan.
Unfortunately for the fury and contempt raging through him, he would have to play a much less active part in that.
* * *
Forewarned by the proprietor, the men Davie had hired were stationed by the door as a drunken Lord Randall was helped down the back stairs of the gaming hell some time later. From the place in the shadows where he stood beside his horse, Davie gave the nod, and the driver of the waiting carriage pulled his vehicle up to the bottom of the stairs.
‘’Ere’s your hackney, governor,’ one of the men said.
‘Get you back to your lodgings all right and tight,’ the other said, grabbing Lord Randall’s shoulders and heaving him up the step.
‘D-don’ need lozzings,’ Randall slurred. ‘Hav’a house. Berkeley Square.’
‘In good time, governor. In good time.’ After pushing Evers into the cab and closing the door behind him, the two men hopped up on the box beside the driver and gave Davie a wave.
The carriage set off, Davie mounted quickly, and quietly followed.
After a winding journey from the dubious streets behind Covent Garden to a nicer part of town, the carriage entered through the gates of Hyde Park, continuing through the deserted gardens until it reached a place near the verge of the Serpentine. There, the vehicle halted.
While Davie dismounted and took up his position a short distance from the vehicle, the two men climbed down from the box and opened the carriage door.
‘Wakee, wakee, my lord,’ one said. ‘Time for your walk.’
‘Wa—walk?’ Evers’s drowsy voice repeated.
‘Yes, walk. Preacher says, contemplation’s good for the soul.’ With that, the man reached inside and yanked Lord Randall from the coach.
The full moon illumined them as Randall stumbled out, the second man caught him neatly and held him upright while the first pulled a sack over his head and down his body, securing it with a quick knot of rope about his upper thighs.
‘Wha—what are you doing?’ Evers cried. Shock and the cool air apparently dissipating some of the drunken haze, he flailed his imprisoned arms inside the sacking restraining his upper body.
As Davie watched, the two men half-pushed, half-dragged the protesting Randall over to the Serpentine, threw him in, and waded in after him.
After a moment, Evers found his feet and surfaced, gasping. ‘Whatever do you—?’
Each man taking an arm, they knocked his feet out from under him and tossed Randall into the water again.
Breathing even more raggedly, he emerged a second time. A note of panic in his voice, he cried, ‘What do you want? I can pay—’
The two seized him and submerged him a third time—and a fourth, and a fifth.
When they finally allowed him to remain on his feet, Randall sobbed, ‘P-pay you! Wh—whatever you want! J-just let me go!’
At Davie’s signal, the two grabbed Randall again, dragged him back up the bank, and tossed him to the ground.
‘Wh—why are you doing this?’ he cried. ‘I haven’t done anything! You must have the wrong man!’
‘Don’t reckon we do,’ the leader said. ‘Heard a lot about you. Lordling’s son and brother. Living off his mama in a smart house in Berkeley Square. Got the right of it, don’t I?’
‘But what—?’
‘Threatening his sister-in-law. His poor, widowed sister-in-law. Just ain’t right. A man don’t do such.’
‘He sent you!’ Randall cried. ‘That pox-ridden politic—’
The second man struck Randall on the jaw before he could finish, knocking him to his knees.
While he scrabbled to regain his balance, the leader said, ‘Don’t need no names. And nobody sent me. Heard a mate repining over a mug of ale, ya see? ’Bout a fine lady being threatened by a greasy muckworm—that would be you—and how angry he was, not being able to grind the muckworm under his boot like he wanted, on account of the muckworm maybe making more trouble for the lady. Now this mate, he’s done me some powerful good turns over the years. So when I heard him so agitated ’n’ all, I thought to meself, why not do him a favour back, and take care of this for him?’
At his nod, the second man hauled Evers upright. The leader reached out to grip Randall’s shoulder with one large paw, his hold punishing enough that Randall cried out. Leaning closer, he said, ‘Had to sympathise, ya see. Got a daughter of me own—prettiest thing a man ever laid eyes on. So pretty, a fancy man tried to snatch her for a bawdy house. I ’bout lost my mind when I found her missing, but with the Lord’s blessing, I found her right quick. And that fancy man? Well, he won’t be snatching no more girls, ever again.’
‘No names!’ Evers agreed, his voice pleading. ‘Just let me go. I’ll pay you! And I’ll leave the bitch alone, I promise!’
‘Here, now, show the lady some respect!’ the first man said, nodding to the second man, who punched Evers again.
This time, Lord Randall didn’t try to stand back up, but remained cowering on the ground. Between Evers’s sobs, the first man continued, ‘Don’t want your mama’s money. Don’t believe a muckworm’s promises, neither. No, we’ll have a little agreement, jes’ between me ’n’ you. You’ll take those winnings Aphrodite’s Dice allowed you tonight, and leave London. Go far away as you can get. I hear Calais is a good town for cheap living and high play. And you’ll stay there a good long while. Till my agitation with you simmers down. Understand?’
He nodded to the second man, who hauled Randall back to his feet. ‘I understand,’ Randall sobbed. ‘Leave London, tonight. Won’t come back.’
‘That’s right. Good to know even a muckworm like you has some sense. But just in case you get to thinking, after we drop you at that lodging house to get your spare duds, that maybe instead of leaving, you’ll go complain to your mama, or the constable, or some such, remember this. We knew where to find you tonight. When a man don’t pay his valet, or his servants, or any what provide him with coats and hats and boots and such, there’s a lot of folk eager to tell whatever you want, to get a few coins back on what’s owed them. If you don’t leave London, I’ll know, and the next time I toss you in the water, there’ll be a rock in that sack with you. Doubt anyone will miss you, ’ceptin them what you owe money to. Now, think you can remember that?’
‘Yes,’ Randall gasped. ‘Please, just let me go!’
‘Dunno,’ the man said, his tone considering. ‘Not sure your memory’s that good. Mebbe need another dunking to strengthen it some.’ At his wave, the second man knocked Randall to the ground and started dragging him back towards the Serpentine.
‘No, please!’ Randall screamed, struggling futilely in the confining sack. ‘I’ll remember. I’ll leave tonight!’
At his leader’s nod, the second man halted. The leader walked over to where Evers struggled on the ground and knelt next to him.
‘Sure you’ll remember? No more trouble for the lady? No recriminations for my mate?’
‘No! Nothing! I hope I never lay eyes on either of them again.’
‘Ah, yes—yer eyes. Now, if after a time you should come to think, from the safety of whatever rat’s nest you run to, that you might send yer money back to London and try to get someone to find me, save the coins. Oh, someone’d take them, all right. But you’d get nothing else for them. I’m a rather well-connected gent in certain parts; you have no power and no influence there. If you was to want to come back and settle up yerself—now, that’s a meeting I’d relish. Got lots of sacks, and there’s plenty of lonely riverbank. But I don’t think you’re up to that. Better you just take your winnings and get your miserable muckworm self out of London tonight, and stay gone.’
‘I’ll go. I’ll stay gone. Just take me away now!’
‘Sure you don’t need a little more water cure to help your memory?’
‘No, no, I’m sure! Please! Just let me go!’
When Randall stopped to take a breath, the leader said, ‘Very well. Being a fair man, I’ll give you a chance to hold up your end of the bargain.’ He clapped his hands, summoning the coachman, who dismounted and came running.
‘Take him to his lodgings,’ he told the second man. ‘And keep watch. Don’t report back until you know he’s left London.’
While Randall moaned and whimpered, the second man and the coachman half-led, half-carried him to the carriage, dragged him up the step, and tossed him in. After securing the door, the two men scrambled back up on the box, and a moment later, the coach drove off.
Once it was well away, the leader walked over to where Davie waited in the shadows. ‘Where do the toffs come up with such scum?’ he asked. ‘Right tempted to toss him in the water again and leave him.’
‘Glad you didn’t,’ Davie said. ‘I wanted him cowed, not murdered. Though I doubt anyone but his mama would miss him, doing away even with a reprobate like Evers would cause too many problems. My conscience would have required me to fish him out, and I’d have been hard-pressed to make myself do it.’
‘Never can tell for sure, but I think he’s gone for good. I’ll have Jack watch him for a week or so, and keep Hines posted.’
‘He’ll write his mama and beg for more money, once what they let him win tonight runs out,’ Davie said. ‘But I don’t think he’ll be back to make accusations. Sadly, there are too many other women in the world for a man with money to bother, to keep pursuing just one, especially after you made him such a convincing case for moving on. Thank you.’
Davie held out his hand, and the leader shook it.
‘Figure what I owe you for the gaming hell, the carriage, your men, and the surveillance, and let Hines know.’
‘Some for the lads and the gambling house, but nothing for me,’ the man said. ‘Putting the fear of God into him was my pleasure. Wasn’t bamming when I told him about me daughter. Wish I could bag up all the varmints that prey on females and toss ’em in the river! Good luck to you and your lady. You’ll be getting us common men our day in Parliament soon, right?’
‘I will keep pressing for it,’ Davie promised. Tipping his hat to Hine’s operative, he walked back to his horse, while the man disappeared into the night like the phantom he was.
Reasonably sure that Randall had been dealt with for good, Davie rode back towards Albany, as satisfied with the results of the night’s manoeuvrings as he could be, without having been permitted the satisfaction of personally planting a few blows in the middle of Lord Randall’s smirking face.
Now he had a more delicate task to accomplish: figuring out how to tell Faith what he’d done, and convincing her to visit Sarah until he was sure his ploy had permanently removed the threat of Lord Randall.