would be expected to sit on the narrow perch at the back. Sergeant Gordon wasn’t precisely a typical servant.
“Replacing the axle and three wheels, and the left-hand door—Carter says twenty quid, give or take.”
“He agreed to do the work?”
“I gave ’im a fiver.” Gordon looked over at him. “Ye are goin’ to pay me fer bein’ yer valet, ain’t you, Colonel?”
“I didn’t ask you to follow me here, but yes, I suppose I will. Though five quid seems a bit generous.”
“What the bloody h—”
“Did you volunteer the money, or did he ask for something before he began the repairs?” Phineas interrupted.
“He asked.”
Phineas nodded. The locals knew, then, that Quence was suffering money troubles. Otherwise a commoner would never have asked for any payment from a noble’s household before providing a service.
Gordon squinted one eye at him. “Ye told me not t’gossip, but does it count if I hear things’n tell ye about ’em?”
“No, that doesn’t count,” Phineas agreed swiftly, turning the curricle down the road toward Quence.
“Then there’s been some speculation as to ’ow long the Bromleys can hold on to Quence Park, what with the bad luck they been havin’.”
“Was this from the blacksmith?”
“Aye. And with nods from the tanner and Fred the innkeeper.”
“And how did you respond?” Phineas queried.
“With outrage, tempered by respect fer my gentlemanly master.”
“Hm.” That was as well as could be expected, he supposed, but rumor could do as much damage as any flood. “How much ready blunt do you have to hand?”
The sergeant sighed. “Near about forty quid, I would wager. The rest of me pay I sent home to me poor mum.”
“You were found under a rock, Thaddeus.”
“All right, ye cruel man. Sixty quid. But that’s me drinkin’ money.”
“After Saffron and Gallant I’ve got about two hundred still to hand, and another five hundred or so I can draw from the bank on short notice.” He had more, but it would take longer to get his hands on it.
“That’s a fair sum, Colonel. What d’ye intend to do with it?”
“Turn the rumors to our favor, and see if I can figure out who’s trying to drive the Bromleys out of Quence Park.”
“I foresee some mayhem comin’, then.”
“I should think so.”
“Excellent.” They rode in silence for several minutes. “How much trouble are ye willing t’cause here?”
“I’m becoming convinced that someone is doing this to my family,” he returned, for once letting his anger at this unknown foe temper his voice. “I mean to flush him from hiding and bury him. And whatever I can’t do, our masked friend can. Beginning tonight.”
“That’s plain enough, then. This fellow’s begun a war. We’ll end it fer ’im.”
Phineas drew a breath. War. He knew war, but once he’d set eyes again on Alyse, this had become much more complicated. He’d kissed her, and he wanted to do so again. He wanted to go riding with her, and chat with her—and he wanted those things he’d sought with other women because he’d never thought to be able to experience them with Alyse. He wanted to feel her warm skin beneath his hands, feel her shudder with pleasure.
“…help in the stable, don’t ye think?” Gordon was saying.
Phineas shook himself. If he was to be fighting a battle, the distraction Alyse presented could be dangerous. He’d turned his back on his old life. Some of it he frankly was glad to leave behind. But other parts, he wanted again—and with a yearning he’d never expected. He placed Alyse firmly in that category.
“Are ye listenin’ t’me at all?” the sergeant complained.
“You think we need an additional stableboy. I agree. See to it. Someone we can trust, Sergeant.”
“Ye couldnae have decided this before we drove halfway back to Quence?”
“Apologies. Take Gallant, and see what you can do.”
Gordon sighed again as he hopped down from the curricle. “Next time ye
“Replacing the axle and three wheels, and the left-hand door—Carter says twenty quid, give or take.”
“He agreed to do the work?”
“I gave ’im a fiver.” Gordon looked over at him. “Ye are goin’ to pay me fer bein’ yer valet, ain’t you, Colonel?”
“I didn’t ask you to follow me here, but yes, I suppose I will. Though five quid seems a bit generous.”
“What the bloody h—”
“Did you volunteer the money, or did he ask for something before he began the repairs?” Phineas interrupted.
“He asked.”
Phineas nodded. The locals knew, then, that Quence was suffering money troubles. Otherwise a commoner would never have asked for any payment from a noble’s household before providing a service.
Gordon squinted one eye at him. “Ye told me not t’gossip, but does it count if I hear things’n tell ye about ’em?”
“No, that doesn’t count,” Phineas agreed swiftly, turning the curricle down the road toward Quence.
“Then there’s been some speculation as to ’ow long the Bromleys can hold on to Quence Park, what with the bad luck they been havin’.”
“Was this from the blacksmith?”
“Aye. And with nods from the tanner and Fred the innkeeper.”
“And how did you respond?” Phineas queried.
“With outrage, tempered by respect fer my gentlemanly master.”
“Hm.” That was as well as could be expected, he supposed, but rumor could do as much damage as any flood. “How much ready blunt do you have to hand?”
The sergeant sighed. “Near about forty quid, I would wager. The rest of me pay I sent home to me poor mum.”
“You were found under a rock, Thaddeus.”
“All right, ye cruel man. Sixty quid. But that’s me drinkin’ money.”
“After Saffron and Gallant I’ve got about two hundred still to hand, and another five hundred or so I can draw from the bank on short notice.” He had more, but it would take longer to get his hands on it.
“That’s a fair sum, Colonel. What d’ye intend to do with it?”
“Turn the rumors to our favor, and see if I can figure out who’s trying to drive the Bromleys out of Quence Park.”
“I foresee some mayhem comin’, then.”
“I should think so.”
“Excellent.” They rode in silence for several minutes. “How much trouble are ye willing t’cause here?”
“I’m becoming convinced that someone is doing this to my family,” he returned, for once letting his anger at this unknown foe temper his voice. “I mean to flush him from hiding and bury him. And whatever I can’t do, our masked friend can. Beginning tonight.”
“That’s plain enough, then. This fellow’s begun a war. We’ll end it fer ’im.”
Phineas drew a breath. War. He knew war, but once he’d set eyes again on Alyse, this had become much more complicated. He’d kissed her, and he wanted to do so again. He wanted to go riding with her, and chat with her—and he wanted those things he’d sought with other women because he’d never thought to be able to experience them with Alyse. He wanted to feel her warm skin beneath his hands, feel her shudder with pleasure.
“…help in the stable, don’t ye think?” Gordon was saying.
Phineas shook himself. If he was to be fighting a battle, the distraction Alyse presented could be dangerous. He’d turned his back on his old life. Some of it he frankly was glad to leave behind. But other parts, he wanted again—and with a yearning he’d never expected. He placed Alyse firmly in that category.
“Are ye listenin’ t’me at all?” the sergeant complained.
“You think we need an additional stableboy. I agree. See to it. Someone we can trust, Sergeant.”
“Ye couldnae have decided this before we drove halfway back to Quence?”
“Apologies. Take Gallant, and see what you can do.”
Gordon sighed again as he hopped down from the curricle. “Next time ye
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