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CHAPTER SIXTEEN

T he scent of the river at night rose to meet Hew’s nose as he walked the landscaped grounds behind Greenfield. Sir Lambert had liked to sit in this park that tamed wild nature into a pleasing vista of sweeping lawns, cultivated shrubbery, and well-spaced trees.

In daylight, the prospect offered the soothing promise of a refuge, a pleasure garden shaped for human enjoyment, no trace of the rugged wilds or barren stretches, rocks and mires, fens and caves that could elsewhere swallow a man.

In the light of a near-full moon, with the gravel paths and dewy lawns silver ripples dappled with the deeper shadow of trees, it was a place of magic.

A place where one would expect to see the ceffyl d?r rising from the mist-limned water of the river, the magical horse that sometimes took the shape of a fair young maiden.

Or a nelferch , one of the beautiful water spirits who would emerge from the water to marry a mortal man, bringing him cattle and gold, until he displeased her and she disappeared back beneath the waters to leave him grieving and lost.

“So you’re set on m’sister.”

Hew paused at the sound of the slurred voice, then turned with slow deliberation. He’d heard the gravel crunching behind him and expected it was Daron.

Her ladyship’s other guests had gone for the night, summoning their carriages and making their way across the countryside by the light of the July moon, the thunder moon as the old farmers called it.

Hew couldn’t turn off her brother without insulting Anne, and he didn’t want to drive Anne away, wanted the exact opposite in fact.

But Sutton’s lurking slouch, his bleary, sneering gaze, and his hunted, hungry look were grating on Hew’s nerves.

He’d seen enough men wearing that look to know what came next. Sutton was a man in trouble, and determined to climb out of his pit over the bodies of others he dragged down with him.

“I’ve offered to marry her,” Hew pointed out.

“Because ye tupped ’er first and was caught at it.”

Daron swallowed a belch. Hew wondered where the man had procured the spirits he reeked of; Lady Vaughn no longer kept such liquors in her house. They reminded her too keenly of how liberally Sir Lambert had indulged in drink, and what consequences followed for his family when he did.

“Because I esteem her,” Hew replied.

It was the answer he had given to John Jones and Margaret Griffith and all the others who had made sly inquiries that evening, demanding the motivations for his surprise announcement. Anne Sutton had enchanted him. One need only look at her to see the appeal.

Anne wore a mantle of rose on her cheeks as he said this over and over, and she accepted the congratulations, forced or sincere, with a calm, courteous smile and a graceful murmur of thanks.

She was the consummate gentlewoman. It was proof he’d done right, acting to salvage her reputation for as long as he could, for as long as the pretense would hold.

Her grace was also the mark of every reason she was too good for Hewitt Vaughn.

Daron shook his head. “Just out to spike yer brother’s wheels.”

“I do not see how,” Hew bit out. “Calvin is not here to insist on a claim. He took off at the first sign she preferred me.”

There was still no news of Calvin, no note to their mother, no report from someone who had seen him turn up at a coaching inn or ale house. Where had Calvin gone, and what was he plotting?

“Then ye orter be talking wit me ’bout a marriage.” Daron’s speech tripped over itself despite his look of concentration, visible even in the half-light.

Hew continued walking. “To ask your permission in the stead of your parents?”

“To talk settlements,” Daron said sharply. “What’re you offerin ’er?”

Hew whirled back to face the sullen man. “I’m the owner of Greenfield. This land, this house, is mine. Just what did Calvin offer, that I wouldn’t be an improvement?”

Daron thought this through. Hew could practically hear the machinery of his mind grinding; drink had not oiled the mechanism. “Calvin said ’ee ’ad all that.”

“Well, he doesn’t, and he wouldn’t, unless he was counting on me turning up dead after Acre.”

“Said you hant been heard of fer months,” Daron grouched. “Said it was good as ’is.”

Hew’s blood turned cold, as if he’d been poured full of silver moonlight, icy light instead of blood in his veins. Anne had warned him Calvin had been speculating on gaining Greenfield. Had counted on it.

Counted on Hew’s death.

“Sorry to disappoint,” Hew said coldly, “but I’m still here.”

“And now you wants Anne’s money.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Daron blinked over this. “Then why’d ye offer at all?”

Hew gritted his teeth. Because she was found in my bed, you slow-top , he wanted to shout. But he had the sense that, for all his current lack of sobriety, he oughtn’t alienate Daron Sutton. The man seemed a fool, but a fool could be cunning when it came to his own preservation.

“Because,” Hew added, “I told you. I esteem her.”

Daron waved this off, and another rush surged through Hew’s veins. Cold rage. Her own brother wasn’t looking out for Anne’s welfare, negotiating her future happiness. Sutton kept coming back to the money.

“M’ parents don’ve the blunt,” Daron clarified. “’S all gone. But Gertrude. Aunt Gertie. Fine lady. She’s the gelt. But she’s only given it t’ Anne.”

Hew had already told Daron he wouldn’t leave their family in penury; apparently that wasn’t enough. “What did Calvin promise that I haven’t?” Hew asked.

“I cud stay ’ere. Live here.” Daron blinked slowly. “An ee’d set me up fine as a gennelman.”

“Calvin invited you to take up residence at Greenfield,” Hew clarified. It wouldn’t be unheard of for a husband and new wife to offer a home to her unmarried brother. But it would be a decision for the master of the house to approve.

Daron nodded. “Says there’s opratunities hereabout. Business opra—business. Make me a rich man. Oper—opportunities,” Daron slurred, “as you doan find inland places like Llanfyllin.” He squinted his eyes at Hew. “But you doan know the firs thing about ’em. You can’t semme up fine.”

Another tide of cold surged through Hew. “My brother offered you business opportunities? What kind?”

“Darch.” Daron slitted his eyes. “What Darch does. That Jones was talkin’ bout it tonight.”

“Free trading.”

Daron shifted his eyes right, then left. He swayed, as if the movement unbalanced him. “Sssh.”

“You are correct,” Hew said. “I can’t connect you to such opportunities. I cannot condone them. I took an oath to uphold English law. Besides, I see the purpose in taxes. We need a trained military to fight English wars. The Prussians pay their soldiers. The French pay their soldiers.”

Britain couldn’t defend itself from an invasion with just militia. It needed a navy to protect its ships on the high seas, and it needed an army to keep Britain’s enemies from doing things like taking over the Orient and cutting off their access to India and the East.

And it needed to pay those men, both to put themselves in danger, then support their widows when they got themselves maimed or killed in the service of God and country.

Hew had a feeling, if he explained this to Sutton, it wouldn’t have an effect, now or at any time when the man was sober.

He seemed the type able to cling to a belief in the face of all logic and evidence.

And cling, moreover, to a sense of righteous self-preservation above all, no matter who else was hurt in the process of enriching himself.

“So you won’elp me.” Daron slitted his eyes.

“I won’t condone smuggling, nor any activity that goes against the law. I will help your family through honest means.”

“So, live like you.” Daron swept a scornful glance up and down Hew’s outdated attire. “No fashion. No address. No bit of fun for the side. All business, all march, all law and right and toeing the line. Live pinch penny on the coppers you give me, like a wife.”

“Or give you leads on honest businesses to invest in,” Hew said. “My solicitor?—”

“Damn your eyes.” Daron’s snarl was sudden, like a feral beast that found itself cornered. “Damn your righteousness. Where’s it come from, anyway, a man up for court-martial?”

A band of cold clamped around Hew’s throat. “I’ve been charged with nothing yet.”

“Yet.” Daron snarled. “But you’ll marry m’ sister, all on your righteous horse, and take her money. To bribe yourself out of a sentence? Thas why you wan’er? Make m’ sister yer whore just to?—”

Hew stepped forward. He was taller than Daron, and while the man had a stone or more of flesh on him, Hew was all lean muscle.

“Say that again,” Hew said with low, deadly calm. “Call your sister a whore to my face, one more time.”

“Thas what you?—”

Hew’s hand shot out for the other man’s throat. Just in time, he clenched his fist on air. He held his knuckles before the man’s nose, a warning.

“I have offered your sister my hand. I will defend her honor with my life. And if you keep spreading tales, smearing her reputation, making it so she cannot hold up her head among these people who will be her neighbors, I will call you out. I don’t care which you choose, swords or bullets.

My money is on me for the field of honor, Sutton. ”

Daron’s sense of self-preservation finally kicked in. His eyes widened. “Yer a madman. No gennelman.”

“No,” Hew said, pulling his fist back to his side. “There is nothing gentle about me at all.”

Daron narrowed his eyes again, his expression of cunning and hatred visible even in the shadows.

Hew tensed his shoulders and let the man walk away.

Let Daron think he’d made his point, had the upper hand.

Better than starting a brawl with Anne’s brother.

The lady already had enough reason to accuse him.