LITMIR.BIZ

       Chapter Two

      ‘I’m not set against your plan, Your Grace. I simply think that it is too soon to implement it.’

      ‘Pray, why is that?’ Alfred Morland, Duke of Thornley, was not used to being gainsaid, especially by persons of vastly inferior rank. But this was no ordinary man. Major Wolfson was a veteran of the Peninsular Wars and had a catalogue of commendations attesting to his military expertise and bravery. The Duke of Wellington, a mutual acquaintance, had recommended the major’s services when Thornley outlined his predicament. Since His Grace was in great need of somebody possessing Wolfson’s qualities, he was repressing his temper as best he could while glaring at the tall figure standing opposite. He was a fine figure of a man, Thornley inwardly sniffed, and he could believe Wellington’s boast that no sane fellow would cross his former aide-de-camp without good cause and serious consideration. But having invested much time and thought in this intrigue the Duke of Thornley very badly wanted to see action as soon as possible.

      Since Napoleon had been defeated, Major Wolfson had been hiring out his talents; not that he needed the money—Wellington had let on that the fellow had banked an inheritance from his late grandfather that would make Croesus envious. Apparently, Luke Wolfson liked the life of a soldier and had no interest in settling down as a country squire in Essex. Such a thrill seeker had seemed a prime candidate to carry out the mission, but Thornley could see that the fellow was not at all impressed with his brainchild to outwit a local villain.

      Luke took a hearty swallow of the brandy the duke had given him when feeling affable, then placed the glass on the mantel. ‘There is a risk to a young woman’s life which surely makes rigorous checks imperative before the point of no return.’

      ‘I have engaged you, sir, in the hope that you will deal with any dangers facing the doxy. If you find the task onerous or beyond your capabilities, you have only to say and I will employ another mercenary.’

      ‘In which case you will certainly need to delay while you find someone willing to take on the job and infiltrate the Collins gang.’ Luke’s lips slanted in a subtle smile as the older man brooded on those salient points, like a bulldog chewing a wasp.

      ‘The woman is being paid handsomely for her trouble...as are you,’ His Grace sourly reminded.

      ‘Indeed, and I have promised Miss Peake she will be back in town by next week spending her earnings. I would not want to be arranging her funeral instead.’

      ‘Well, tell the chit she might have a bonus if she agrees to expeditiously get this over with.’ Thornley gave the major a dour glance. ‘No doubt you expect a similar favour even though you have already negotiated a princely sum for yourself.’

      Luke gave an easy shrug. ‘If you want to offer an inducement to accelerate matters, I will, of course, accept it. But the risks remain the same and I would urge you to think carefully before pelting headlong into this. If Collins smells a rat, you might gain nothing and tempt the gang to persecute you and your daughter. Her welfare is paramount, is it not?’

      ‘It is!’ Wolfson’s last remark had touched a nerve. The Duke of Thornley adored his daughter. He knew she got bored in Devon confined to the house. But Thornley was loath to let her out much, even with her maid, to enjoy the local markets and emporiums because of the gang of ruffians infesting the area. ‘If the blackguard smells a rat it will be because Wellington has overdone your praises. I’m paying you to ensure that Collins suspects nothing.’ His Grace thumped down his brandy glass on the desktop, shoving himself to his feet. ‘You forget yourself, sirrah, to be lecturing me!’

      ‘I was under the impression you would welcome such advice,’ Luke said mildly. ‘In fact, I thought you summoned me here for that very reason.’ Their combatant gazes tangled, but Luke could see the duke was not going to back down and admit his mistake. ‘Jeremiah Collins kidnapped, then returned a young dandy to his family on payment of a hefty ransom some six months ago.’ Luke shot the duke a glance and saw him redden. ‘You knew about that...got your inspiration from it, I take it.’

      ‘Of course I knew,’ His Grace blustered, smarting under the mild accusation of stealing an idea from the very person he wanted to see strung up. ‘My friend, Squire Smalley, sits at Devizes. The matter had been hushed up to prevent local folk panicking, but obviously not well enough if you managed to find out about it.’

      A half-smile tilted Luke’s moulded mouth. ‘Like you, sir, I have friends in high places,’ he said quietly.

      ‘Around these parts...and in London, too, for that matter... I am high places.’ The arrogant statement had barely quit the Duke of Thornley’s lips before he regretted it, but Wolfson had too much to say for himself and needed slapping down. ‘You are either with me, Major, or against me. Let me know which.’

      ‘My apologies—it seems we are at odds over this. I couldn’t in all conscience proceed knowing I’ve no faith in the scheme as it

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