Page 27 of The Major’s Mistake (Intrepid Heroines #7)
Twelve
M cTavish eased himself up over the last tumble of weathered stone and slipped into the makeshift camp. Squatting down near the opening to the shallow cave in the rocks that served as his shelter from the elements, he signaled for Gibbs and Scofield to join him.
“Did everything according te plan?” Scofield couldn’t contain his impatience as McTavish took his time in coaxing a flame to life in the remains of the morning’s fire.
Putting his flint away, the other man straightened. “Bring me some whiskey.”
Gibbs scurried to fetch the earthenware jug.
McTavish took several long pulls on it before leaning back with a grunt.
“Things are going more than well.” The jangle of a purse in his pocket emphasized his words, spoken low enough so that none of the ragged men huddled around the main fire could hear.
“He just paid fer us to take care of the mill in Sillton next week. Then we’re te scatter this band of raghearts and slip back across the border to enjoy the blunt we’ve earned fer awhile. ”
He gave a snort of contempt as his eyes strayed over the rest of his band.
“I’ll be glad to see these lot gone. A sorrier lot of lily-livered coves I ain’t never seen.
No stomach fer this sort of work.” He paused to take another swig.
“But it don’t matter. After the militia rushes over here, all in a lather, he’ll have us move east in a few weeks, over near the coast, to raise up another gang to strike again. ”
Scofield and Gibbs broke into wide grins.
His voice dropped even lower. “I been thinking, though. We wouldn’t want anyone to interfere with our plans now, would we?”
Both faces fell.
Scofield gnawed at his lip.” Who could do that?”
“That damned Ransford woman, if she keeps asking too many prying questions.”
“You want we should take care of her? It wouldn’t be no hard task to see she slips off some steep path, or such.”
McTavish bared his teeth in a wolfish smile.
“That’s not quite what I had in mind. No, I have a better plan to get her out of the way until we’ve finished our work here.
” He leaned in closer to his cronies and winked.
“After all, why take a risk fer no reward? And what I’ve got in mind fer Mrs. Ransford will, shall we say, prove most profitable . ”
“Ye don’t think messing with her is asking fer trouble?” ventured Scofield. “I mean, what with her being friendly with the marquess?—”
McTavish shot him a withering look. “Ye’s seen the man. He’s a bloody cripple. Ye think he’s gonna cause us any trouble when the whole damn militia can’t lay a finger us? And besides, that’s just what I’m counting on, her being friendly with the marquess.”
Gibbs rubbed at the stubble on his jaw. “Well, ye ain’t ever been wrong yet.” His eyes took on a gleam nearly as bright as the pieces of gold he was imagining. “Tell us what ye have in mind.”
“Don’t worry. I’ve got it all planned out. Now listen closely ….”
Miranda arranged the last few items in her basket, then, with a slight smile, added the ample packet that Cook had prepared.
It was far more than she and her son could consume, but as she planned a visit to one of the sick children she was tending to, the extra food would be welcome addition to the family’s meager table.
She paused, then slid the thin canvas roll containing her medical implements into the pocket of her gown as well. The boil on the child’s foot had been of some concern to her on the last visit. There was a chance that this time it may have to be lanced.
“It appears that you expect to be gone for the rest of the day,” remarked Lady Thornton as she entered the kitchen and caught sight of the well-stocked basket.
Miranda nodded. “I have need to replenish my supply of St. John’s wort, and then I must look in on Mrs. White’s daughter. And since Justin wishes to come along too, I’ve given leave for his lessons to end early.” A smile stole to her lips. “It seems he has need to add to his menagerie.”
Lady Thornton rolled her eyes. “What is it to be this time?”
“You don’t want to know.”
“Oh dear, whatever it is, let us hope it does not find its way into Miss MacKenzie’s bed, like the toad.”
Miranda nodded in agreement. “This would be infinitely worse, I’m afraid.” In answer to her aunt’s questioning look, she added, “He is looking for a snake—a garter snake.”
The other lady shuddered.
“Mama, my lessons are finished!” Justin came scampering into the room. “Are we ready to leave?”
“Yes, love,” she answered, bending down to do up the buttons of her son’s jacket.
Lady Thornton regarded the lad’s empty hands. “Just how do you plan to carry the, er, intended addition to your pets? I’m sure your Mama does not plan to allow such a creature in her basket.”
“Oh, I’ll just put it in my shirt,” explained Justin. “That way it will stay nice and warm. They like warm places.”
“I think I shall return to the library,” she said faintly. “And put out the fire.”
“Well, well, well. It appears we are finally in luck today.”
McTavish edged his way off the ledge and snapped the brass spyglass shut with a smirk of satisfaction. The small group of ill-clad men sitting in the lee of the tumbled rocks eyed him with some wariness.
“Mrs. Ransford is heading for the high pasture, along with her brat.” His expression turned calculating.
“Here is the plan. We’re gonna nab the widow, before she goes asking too many more nosy questions.
When it’s time fer us te leave, the marquess can have her back—that is, if he’s willing to cough up the blunt for her ransom.
But he’ll pay. A gentleman of his sort don’t like his bed to be empty for long, and no doubt a piece as fine as the widow keeps his sheets more than warm. ”
“Hear now, I didn’t agree to nothing like this, McTavish,” ventured one of the men. “It’s one thing to bust up a mill or two for blunt your man pays us—we ain’t got no choice if we don’t wish our families to starve. But kidnapping … ” He shook his head. “That’s going too far.”
Several of the others began to murmur in agreement but McTavish cut them off with an abrupt laugh.
“A little late to be getting a conscience, Davies.” With a flick of his head, he made a signal to his two cronies.
They got to their feet and and began to tap their thick cudgels against their palms. “Or do you fancy explaining to the local magistrate your part in what’s been going on here lately?
” continued McTavish. He let the veiled threat sink in for a moment or two before going on, his voice dripping with mock concern.
“Think they will feel much in charity with ye? A pity what would happen to your wife and children if you was to be arrested and hanged.”
Davies dropped his eyes, and the other men fell silent as well.
Satisfied that he had squashed any show of dissent, McTavish slowly removed the brace of pistols from his belt and made a show of checking the priming. “Well, now that we are all full in agreement, let’s move into action.”
Justin made a swift lunge into the tall grass. “Look! I got it.”
Miranda repressed a grimace at the sight of the wriggling reptile in her son’s hand.
It was harmless, she reminded herself with a swallow as she watched it disappear between the buttons of his shirt.
And on regarding the look of delight on his face, she hadn’t the heart to order him to turn it loose.
No doubt Angus could build a tall enough box to keep the creature from throwing the household into an uproar.
“How nice. But remember, one is enough,” she answered. “And don’t stray too far, love. I’m nearly finished and then we must be off to look in on Mrs. White’s daughter.”
She turned back to the tangle of roots at her knees and began to carefully separate them with her trowel.
As she worked, she couldn’t keep her thoughts from straying to the marquess, as they had been doing all too frequently of late.
Though it had been over a week since their last encounter, she still felt the heat rise to her cheeks at the memory of his embrace, and her own response to it.
She still could not fathom the meaning of it—any of it. Nothing made any sense, unless …
No. She wouldn’t allow herself to imagine such a thing. Just because she couldn’t hide anymore from the realization that her own feelings were not nearly so hardened as she might have wished did not mean that he?—
“Mama?”
Justin’s voice interrupted her reverie.
“Who are those men coming toward us?”
Miranda’s head jerked around. Three figures were already halfway across the field. A glance to either side revealed several others making their way through the gorse and brambles to cut off any line of retreat.
Her hand came around her son’s arm. “Justin, listen to me and do exactly as I say,” she said in a low voice. “When I tell you to, you must run and not let those men catch you. Do you understand? Take the way through the woods and don’t stop for anything until you are safely home.”
“But Mama?—”
“Please, love. You must do as I say.” She hugged him hard. “I shall be fine, I promise. Now run!”
To Miranda’s immense relief, Justin obeyed and bolted towards the copse of gnarled hawthorns that fringed the forest. But then her breath caught in her throat as one of the men rushed to cut him off.
The little boy saw the danger and veered sharply away to his left.
His strides, however, were no match for those of his much larger pursuer.
“Here now, imp. Hold up if you know what’s good fer ye,” cried the man as he grabbed hold of Justin’s sleeve.