determination to slay a giant.
She shook her head.
He slowed, then stopped removing his shoe.
Stephen considered the scene before him. Why on earth would Otis remove his shoe unless he were about to use it to defend Jilly? Stephen didn’t like the man, either, but he had no idea who he was. Was Otis simply following Stephen’s lead? Or did he have reason to expect trouble at Hodgepodge?
This possibility only put Stephen more on guard.
Jilly looked back at Mr. Redmond. “Yes,” she said, as if she were about to go to the guillotine. “I am Miss Jones.”
Otis bit his thumb.
“Very well.” Mr. Redmond reached into his coat pocket. “I’m here to give you this.” He handed her a piece of paper. “It’s a legal document regarding your property.”
Without looking at the paper, Miss Jones held it to her mouth and gave a little giggle. Then Otis followed suit. They looked at each other as if their lives had been spared.
Otis lowered his brows and Miss Jones drew herself up.
“I see,” she said with the gravitas one would expect from a business owner. But her mouth still showed a bit of laughter at the corners, and her eyes, palpable relief.
What disaster had she averted?
Stephen had a great craving to know. If he had a special affinity for unmanageable ladies, he had even more of one for unmanageable, mysterious ladies.
“Leases on this street haven’t been renewed in years due to an oversight,” Mr. Redmond said. “Either pay the new fees, or move.”
The lightness in Miss Jones’s expression vanished. “But I own this house.”
“Yes, she does.” Otis came to her and laid a hand on her shoulder. “So go away, little man.” He raised his chin. “Please see him out, Captain Arrow.”
Stephen would have liked to pick up Mr. Redmond by the back of his jacket and sling him into his carriage, but he knew it would probably only bring more trouble to Hodgepodge.
“You need to explain yourself clearly,” Stephen said to him. “And waste no time. Our patience is short, and justifiably so. This sounds like another government ploy to raise taxes.”
“It’s no ploy.” The little man’s voice sounded smug as he looked around at them all. “Didn’t you know the actual dirt beneath the homes and businesses of Mayfair is owned by someone else?”
“That’s terrible!” Jilly cried.
“Are you sure about that?” Stephen demanded to know.
“Yes, I’m certain,” Mr. Redmond replied.
“You don’t have to be so demmed happy about it.” Otis crossed his arms over his chest and went into a full pout.
Mr. Redmond lifted one brow and looked at Stephen. “If you live on this street, the same particulars of this document will apply to you. I’m starting on this corner and working my way around to distribute copies to everyone.”
“The hell you say,” said Stephen.
“Bluster all you want,” Mr. Redmond said in a bored voice and pulled out a sheaf of papers. “What’s your name?”
“Arrow,” replied Stephen in a testy voice.
Mr. Redmond sifted through his stack and removed a single sheet. “Read it and weep.”
Stephen yanked it from his hand and stuffed the paper in his shirt pocket.
“You’d best examine the document well.” Mr. Redmond was cool. “Anyone who’s late may have the land leased out from under them.”
“You can’t mean that,” Stephen said.
“I do.” The man didn’t blink.
“What would happen to the person who owns the house?” Jilly asked.
“You’d be told to move.” Mr. Redmond sighed as if he were terribly tired of having to go over this devastating news with yet another dimwitted Londoner.
“But you can’t very well move a house,” Otis insisted.
The man shrugged. “The house could be brought down and a new edifice put up. The destruction of the home would be your loss, of course. However, this is Mayfair. Who can’t afford to pay their lease in the wealthiest part of London? I say if you can’t afford to live here, it’s your
She shook her head.
He slowed, then stopped removing his shoe.
Stephen considered the scene before him. Why on earth would Otis remove his shoe unless he were about to use it to defend Jilly? Stephen didn’t like the man, either, but he had no idea who he was. Was Otis simply following Stephen’s lead? Or did he have reason to expect trouble at Hodgepodge?
This possibility only put Stephen more on guard.
Jilly looked back at Mr. Redmond. “Yes,” she said, as if she were about to go to the guillotine. “I am Miss Jones.”
Otis bit his thumb.
“Very well.” Mr. Redmond reached into his coat pocket. “I’m here to give you this.” He handed her a piece of paper. “It’s a legal document regarding your property.”
Without looking at the paper, Miss Jones held it to her mouth and gave a little giggle. Then Otis followed suit. They looked at each other as if their lives had been spared.
Otis lowered his brows and Miss Jones drew herself up.
“I see,” she said with the gravitas one would expect from a business owner. But her mouth still showed a bit of laughter at the corners, and her eyes, palpable relief.
What disaster had she averted?
Stephen had a great craving to know. If he had a special affinity for unmanageable ladies, he had even more of one for unmanageable, mysterious ladies.
“Leases on this street haven’t been renewed in years due to an oversight,” Mr. Redmond said. “Either pay the new fees, or move.”
The lightness in Miss Jones’s expression vanished. “But I own this house.”
“Yes, she does.” Otis came to her and laid a hand on her shoulder. “So go away, little man.” He raised his chin. “Please see him out, Captain Arrow.”
Stephen would have liked to pick up Mr. Redmond by the back of his jacket and sling him into his carriage, but he knew it would probably only bring more trouble to Hodgepodge.
“You need to explain yourself clearly,” Stephen said to him. “And waste no time. Our patience is short, and justifiably so. This sounds like another government ploy to raise taxes.”
“It’s no ploy.” The little man’s voice sounded smug as he looked around at them all. “Didn’t you know the actual dirt beneath the homes and businesses of Mayfair is owned by someone else?”
“That’s terrible!” Jilly cried.
“Are you sure about that?” Stephen demanded to know.
“Yes, I’m certain,” Mr. Redmond replied.
“You don’t have to be so demmed happy about it.” Otis crossed his arms over his chest and went into a full pout.
Mr. Redmond lifted one brow and looked at Stephen. “If you live on this street, the same particulars of this document will apply to you. I’m starting on this corner and working my way around to distribute copies to everyone.”
“The hell you say,” said Stephen.
“Bluster all you want,” Mr. Redmond said in a bored voice and pulled out a sheaf of papers. “What’s your name?”
“Arrow,” replied Stephen in a testy voice.
Mr. Redmond sifted through his stack and removed a single sheet. “Read it and weep.”
Stephen yanked it from his hand and stuffed the paper in his shirt pocket.
“You’d best examine the document well.” Mr. Redmond was cool. “Anyone who’s late may have the land leased out from under them.”
“You can’t mean that,” Stephen said.
“I do.” The man didn’t blink.
“What would happen to the person who owns the house?” Jilly asked.
“You’d be told to move.” Mr. Redmond sighed as if he were terribly tired of having to go over this devastating news with yet another dimwitted Londoner.
“But you can’t very well move a house,” Otis insisted.
The man shrugged. “The house could be brought down and a new edifice put up. The destruction of the home would be your loss, of course. However, this is Mayfair. Who can’t afford to pay their lease in the wealthiest part of London? I say if you can’t afford to live here, it’s your
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