Part 25 (1/2)

Flora nodded decisively. 'You'll have to get a horse, then,' she said.

Bram laughed. 'Miss Flora, I'd like nothing better. But I can no more afford a horse than I could dance north on my hands.'

Lorrie reached into the pocket of her borrowed skirt. 'But Bram, I've got the price I got for Horace!' she said. 'Surely you can get something for that.'

Bram fixed Lorrie with a wry look, and both knew he was intentionally ignoring the coins she had filched from his room. It wasn't much, but it was all he had.

'And if you can't, I'll top it up,' Flora said.

'And you can take what you need from the kitchen for supplies on the way,' Aunt Cleora said. 'Best take my cousin Josh's rain gear, too, by the look of things.'

Overwhelmed, Bram looked down at his toes in their home-cobbled shoes. That reminded him of something. 'At least I'll be able to track your foster-brother, Miss Flora,' he said. At their wide-eyed look: 'Well, seems he bought Lorrie's Horace. And there's a nick in his left off shoe that I'd know anywhere.' Then softly he added, 'If the rain doesn't wash away everything, that is.'

Jimmy looked out at the pouring rain and sighed. Why Jarvis couldn't just ask what he wanted to know was beyond him. But by now he knew a great deal more about the family who had agreed to give them shelter than he did about some of his friends.

'I was midwife to the Baroness,' the old woman said proudly. 'A tiny thing she was, poor la.s.s.' She shook her head. 'Bled to death I'm sorry to say. The Baron was never the same after,' she confided.

'T'Baron was never the same as anyone else his best day,' her husband said sourly.

Jimmy turned around and went back to the fire. This was more like it.

'Used to be if a tenant had a complaint he could go up t' the house when the lord was there and get the thing straightened out. Even cottars like us! Not no more ye can't.'

'The Baron sent all the servants and guards away after his lady's death,' his wife said. 'The very day after she died.'

'And hired those, those...'

'Mercenaries,' his wife said firmly, giving her husband a stiff-lipped warning glare.

'Mercenaries,' the old man said, pulling his lips away from the word as though it was filthy. 'Neighbour went up t' see the lord one time he was there and those...' he gave his wife a look, 'fellows near beat the poor man t'death. I ask you, is that any way for a lord t' behave?'

From what Jimmy had seen and heard in his life that was the way a lot of lords behaved. Wisely, he didn't say so.

'There's a strange feeling about the place,' Coe observed.

Husband and wife glanced at one another.

'Aye,' the old man agreed. 'Year by year it's got worse. n.o.body goes there now 'cept those bully-boys he hires now and again, and they don't stay long if they can help it.'

Coe raised his brows and said, 'Mmph.' He puffed his pipe for a contemplative moment or two. 'Must have been a grand funeral,' he said.

Once again the old couple exchanged glances.

'I believe she was buried in Land's End,' the old woman said.

'Mebbe even got s.h.i.+pped back to the court she came from,' her husband suggested.

'What about the baby?' Jimmy asked. 'What ever happened to it?'

The old couple looked at him in surprise as though they'd forgotten his presence. Jarvis looked enquiringly at them.

'Well,' the old woman spluttered, 'we've, uh, we've never seen him.'

'Did the child survive?' Coe asked quietly.

'We never heard that he didn't,' the old man snarled, his eyes flickering to his wife.

'He'd be about eighteen now,' his wife said dreamily.

'I ask because no one in Land's End ever mentioned him,' Jarvis said. 'So I'm surprised to hear the Baron had a child.'

'He must have been sent away to be fostered,' the elderly midwife suggested. 'The n.o.bility do that you know.' She gave an authoritative nod.

Coe said, 'Mmph,' again. Then, 'The house looked to be in reasonable repair,' he commented. 'Though I was still on the road when I saw it.'

The old man grunted. 'The lord must be having those bast' he glanced at his wife, 'mercenaries look after the place. Not one of us has been near there for near eighteen years. And I'll tell ye true,' the old man stood and knocked his pipe out on the fireplace, 'ye couldn't bribe me t' go there now.'

Me neither, Jimmy thought. But you could threaten to cry and wheedle and appeal to my better nature But you could threaten to cry and wheedle and appeal to my better nature. He wondered bitterly if he would always be so susceptible to the blandishments of women. Or was it that he enjoyed making the occasional grand gesture? I just hate it when said grand gesture turns out to be b.l.o.o.d.y inconvenient and more like suicide than heroism I just hate it when said grand gesture turns out to be b.l.o.o.d.y inconvenient and more like suicide than heroism.

Rescuing the Prince and his lady would have been a wonderful grand gesture, and a bonus besides since his real purpose had been to rescue his friends. But rescuing some sprat he'd never met because Flora expected him to felt like being put upon and he didn't like it a bit.

And yet, as soon as he was certain his hosts and Coe were asleep he was going out to that house of horrors to see if he could find the boy and get him out. After all, if a load of lowlife bashers could stand to be in that place then so could he, by Ruthia.

Then the rain started in earnest, and Jimmy muttered, 'Maybe I'll go out tomorrow night.'

The Baron tossed in his bed, clutching the soaking sheets as he did no less than one night in three. The dreams were always the same, the hunt, the cliff, the laughing face of the youth. The storm, the dark man arriving, all came and went, in different order each time. Sometimes it was a fleeting glimpse, sometimes he watched himself as if standing a short distance away, while at other times he relived the past. Sometimes he knew he was dreaming, while at other times it was as if he were young, and trying to grapple again with the love and hate which gripped his soul.

For days Bernarr had sought an opportunity to deal with the young man privately. The laughing jackanapes had preoccupied a disproportionate amount of Elaine's time. She seemed willing to suffer the fool's attentions, but not only was she s.h.i.+rking her responsibility to her other guests, she had virtually ignored Bernarr since Zakry's arrival.

The opportunity had finally presented itself in an unexpected fas.h.i.+on. He had organized a hunt to entertain his guests, and all but Elaine joined in with pleasure. She was once again ill. This time he sent the chirurgeon to her with stern instructions to examine her and not take 'no' for an answer.

The rest of them were quickly swept up in the excitement of the chase, the cool crisp air of autumn, the raucous note of the horn. Beaters and hounds flushed a magnificent buck and they tore through the woods with a will. The hounds baying, the beaters sounding their ram's-horn instruments, the stylish riders dressed in every colour and flas.h.i.+ng with gold and jewels even brighter than the leaf-cloak of vineyard and tree. It was a magnificent sight.

As they rode Bernarr's quick eye caught sight of a thras.h.i.+ng in a thicket.

Boar! he thought, catching a glimpse of the low-slung body, the ma.s.sive bristly shoulders and long curved tusks. And wily, too, to be heading away at right-angles rather than attracting the attention of the hounds by running. he thought, catching a glimpse of the low-slung body, the ma.s.sive bristly shoulders and long curved tusks. And wily, too, to be heading away at right-angles rather than attracting the attention of the hounds by running.

The pack hadn't scented it; the wind was blowing in his direction. Bernarr knew the forest pig's ill-temper required little to turn it aggressive, and only the presence of so many hounds and riders was causing it to flee.

And I feel like boar-meat tonight. It would be a prideful moment, the head borne in on a platter, the tusks gilded, and Elaine glowing with delight at her husband's deed. It would be a prideful moment, the head borne in on a platter, the tusks gilded, and Elaine glowing with delight at her husband's deed.

Bernarr slung the bow over his back and yanked his broad-bladed boar-spear from its socket, plunging past trees and leaping his horse over rocks, never letting his prey from his sight. By its size and the sharp, unblunted outline of its tusks the creature was young, in its full strength but still reckless, giving the Baron reason to think this would be an easy kill. An older, more aggressive male would have turned to fight already.