Sherbrooke Twins

He shook his head. “Too much risk.” Then he stopped cold. “If we could get Augie, maybe we could make him tell us who paid him to kidnap me.”

Her eyes shone even as she was blinking furiously to keep from being blinded by the rain. “They certainly won’t be expecting us, now will they?”

Lightning struck again and they heard a man yell.

“Let’s go, Corrie. We certainly can’t get any wetter than we are now, well, not much more.”

They ran out of the woods and down the road after their villains, rain lashing against their faces, no moon now, only bloated black clouds. They could barely see the road ten feet ahead of them.

They came upon them quickly since Billy’s foot was evidently hurting him, and Augie and Ben had to support him, Ben with only one good arm.

They slowed, listening to the men cursing.

“I never heard that word, James. What does-”

“Be quiet. Don’t you ever say that word, you understand me?”

Corrie wiped her hand over her eyes and shoved her hair back from her face. “But it sounded like tit-”

“Be quiet. Now, here’s what we’re going to do.”

Three minutes later, James moved quite close to the three, raised his gun, and fired directly at Augie’s arm. A shot and a yell and more cursing.

As James thought, Ben dropped Billy to the ground, and Augie didn’t know whether to grab his arm or draw his gun, and so he did both. The shot brought down a tree branch. Billy, hobbling, and Ben holding his arm, went for the underbrush.

They’d disabled all three of them.

“Drop the gun, Augie,” James called out, “or the next bullet will be through your head. I have two guns, you know, so don’t doubt me.”

“Young ’un! Is that really you?” Augie’s hand was protecting his eyes, desperately trying to see James through the heavy rain. “Why would you want to shoot ole Augie now? I ain’t done nothin’ really bad to ye-not even wot I was paid to do-I jest worried ye a bit, gave ye jest a bit of a tap.”

“Drop the gun, Augie, this is the last time I’ll tell you.”

Augie dropped the gun, although the chances were good that it had held only one bullet and was now quite empty. But better not to take any chances.

“Good. Now, Augie, I’ll not put a bullet in your head if you tell me the man’s name who hired the three of you to kidnap me.”

Augie, despite the rain, tugged on his ear, sent curses toward his feet, then sighed. “A man’s got to guard ’is reputation, lad. If I tells ye ’is name, me reputation will be in the dirt.”

“At least you’ll be alive.”

James aimed the gun at Augie’s head.

“No, ye can’t do that, can ye?-jest shoot me in the noggin’ like I was a bad man-well, niver ye mind about that. No, don’t shoot me. Well, damnation. Aw right, the bloke wot gave us the blunt, ’e said ’is name was Douglas Sherbrooke. Niver ’eard that name afore, so’s I can’t tell ye who the cove is. Now ye won’t shoot me, will ye, young ’un?”

Both James and Corrie gaped at him. Corrie said, “But that doesn’t make sense, James.”

“As a twisted jest, it makes perfect sense.”

“How old was this man, Augie?”

“A young ’un, jest like ye are, me lord. Hey, I heard that little gal’s voice. I wants to wallop that little gal’s arse but good. Ruined it all fer us, she did. Nearly burned down that lovely cottage and stuck that bloody pitchfork into Ben’s arm. Not a lady, she ain’t, a real disgrace to her folks, I’d say, going out like that without no chaperone, wearing white to make us think she were a ghost. As fer the ’orses, wot she did ain’t-”

“Stop whining, Augie. She got you fair and square. If you don’t think she’s a lady, you can call her my white knight,” James said.

“It’s a disgrace, it is, ’er doin that to three growed men. Meybe if she’d been me kid, I could o’ taught her how to nobble ye fine lords, nip groats right out of yer pockets, ye niver the wiser. Ye got guts, little gal, not much brain since ye rode that nag right into the cottage, but ye got guts, lots o’ guts.”

“Okay, Augie, the truth is that Corrie would make a horrible pickpocket. It’s her face, you see. You know exactly what she’s thinking. She’d end up sitting beside you in gaol. Now, you can yell for Ben and Billy to come out of hiding and then the three of you can take yourselves off.”

“Yer a good lad, that’s wot I told me boys, now didn’t I?”

“I don’t know what you said, Augie, since one of your friends hit me over the head.”

“Well now, these things ’appen, these little puddles o’ mud in life.”

“Leave, Augie. Go away. I don’t ever want to see your face again.”

Corrie called out, “How much did this Douglas Sherbrooke pay you, Augie?”

“Little gals shouldn’t concern themselves about men’s business, but it were a good ten pounds to take ye, and another thirty when I gives ye over to this Sherbrooke bloke.”

“I hope you haven’t spent the ten pounds,” Corrie said. “I wonder what this fellow will do to you when he discovers you’ve failed to deliver the goods?”

Augie groaned at that thought, then whistled for Billy and Ben.

Corrie, a lovely sneer on her face, and James, close to laughter, eased back into the woods, and watched the three men stagger back down the road.

“Now what?” Corrie said.

Lightning struck a tree branch. It fell, smoking, not three feet in front of them.

“Oh dear, is that some sort of bad omen, do you think?”

“I think it means that it’s best to get back toward London. Augie and his boys aren’t completely down, and they will lose out on thirty pounds and their reputations if they don’t deliver me. Let’s not take chances. You keep as warm as you can, Corrie. I don’t want you to get ill.”

“This night is surely a misery,” Corrie said, and pressed close to James as they began walking down the road in the opposite direction from the three villains.

She began whistling a ditty she’d learned from one of the Sherbrooke stable lads. James laughed, couldn’t help himself. He prayed she didn’t know the words. Oddly enough, he couldn’t think of another time when he’d laughed quite so much as he had on a night he firmly believed was going to be his last.

They walked along the cliffs, the wind howling louder now, full of both rain and the smell of brine. They could hear the waves crashing against rocks below them.

James suddenly saw the flash of a lantern, then another. The rain was lessening, thank God, and a bit of moon was shining through the bloated black clouds. James saw two boats pulled up onto the beach and at least six men in a line from the boats to the cliff where they stood.

He cursed.

A deep voice came out of the darkness, “Now what have we here, I wonder?”

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

JAMES TOOK CORRIE’S hand and squeezed it as he pulled her tightly against his side.

“We are here by chance only,” James said toward the dark voice. “We’re merely trying to find a farmhouse or a fishing village to pass the rest of the night.”

“Not much night left.”

“I don’t have a watch. I don’t know.” James had one bullet left, no more.

The rain stopped and more moon shone down.

A man stepped out of the shadows, a gun in his hand and a black mask over his face. He was wrapped in a many-capped greatcoat.

This wasn’t good.

He looked them both up and down, and Corrie could imagine his eyebrow going up behind that mask. “What the devil happened to you, my dear? Did your handsome gallant here promise you marriage then ravish you?”

“Oh no,” Corrie said. “He would never do that, I daresay he’s never thought of ravishment. And why would he have to? I’ve known him all my life, very nearly. I saved him from three very bad men who’d kidnapped him. We’re trying to go home. We don’t mean anyone any harm. If you’re smuggling in diamonds for the new king, why, we could help you. We don’t care, truly we don’t.”