She took a deep breath, doing her best to calm her temper. Francis Saunders might think he had the right do as he pleased, but he hadn’t dealt with her before. Long years of dealing with port officials and stubborn sailors had left Poppy well equipped to handle one overindulged son of society. She had handled every situation ranging from a minor argument to a near riot on board a ship in the middle of a perilous storm. This wet-behind-the-ears boy had no idea who he was going up against.
Poppy Basden knew how to deal with intractable people, and for those occasions when she failed, she always had her pistol close at hand.
She didn’t have any wish to point a weapon at these men. They were clearly just doing what they had been told. But she wasn’t going to stand quietly by while some pompous ass attempted to bully her into submission.
And to think he was the perfect gentleman this morning when he handed me over the butter.
Pushing her disappointment away, Poppy pressed on. “Gentlemen, this warehouse is the property of the Basden Line Shipping Company. Rest assured that if I am forced to summon the London Docks authorities to deal with this matter, you will be leaving here in irons.”
It was enough to have the men quickly moving the barrels back to the front of number twelve after which they beat a hasty retreat.
“Bloody cheek,” Poppy muttered.
Thank heavens she had caught the men before they’d finished the job. If not, she would have had to move everything back tonight to make room for her large pots and planter boxes. No one, least of all Francis Saunders, was going to stop her from starting her garden.
“Maybe I will have to draw my pistol on someone if this nonsense continues.”
This was London, and the law tended to take a dim view of duels. But if worst came to worst, then the pompous Francis Saunders might find himself in need of a new hat.
Crushing the letter in her hand, Poppy turned and shook her fist at the empty warehouse next door.
“You may well be a blue-eyed devil, but you are no match for me.”
She was more than prepared to take him on. And while some might view it as an unfair match, Poppy was quietly confident of being able to best Francis. His money and connections were nothing to the wealth of experience she could call upon.
Bring your top game, young Saunders. You are going to need it.
After depositing the ledgers and the baked cinnamon biscuits on the table inside the warehouse, Poppy went back to the Empress Catherine. When she returned, it was with a small keg of gunpowder tucked firmly under her arm. In her left hand she held her trusty pistol. Her coat pockets were stuffed with lead shot. A smile sat on her lips.
If Mister Francis Saunders wanted a war, she was going to give him one.
Chapter Fifteen
The third time Adelaide Saunders turned around in her pew and smiled sweetly at him, Francis decided he would much rather spend the whole day moving barrels and ropes than be at a wedding. The look of expectation on his mother’s face made his skin crawl.
She’s imagining me standing up there in front of Uncle Hugh while he marries me off to some sweet little thing.
If Francis had his way, he would have positioned himself at the rear of St. Paul’s cathedral alongside his brother, Will, and made his escape as soon as the wedding service was over. But family expectations were set in stone. He was doomed to sit just behind his parents, close to the front of the congregation. The long day was just beginning.
And where the devil is Gideon?
The day might not be so boringly arduous if he could team up with his cousin Gideon, but the Marquis of Holwell was nowhere to be seen.
After dropping his prayer book accidently on purpose, Francis rose from his seat and bent to pick it up. As he righted himself, he took the opportunity to make a quick examination of the rest of the wedding guests seated in the rows behind. His gaze flitted from one relative to another, searching.
As he dropped down into his seat, his mind was filled with concern. Not one of the Duke of Mowbray’s family were in attendance. And while Gideon and his father were not partial to weddings, the young women of the Mowbray title, Lady Victoria, and Lady Coco Kembal, were avid attendees of marriage celebrations.
They wouldn’t miss Maggie’s wedding. Not on purpose. What has happened?
It did occur to him that they might have decided to miss the nuptial service and only attend the wedding breakfast, but he doubted that was the case. Hugh Radley wouldn’t take kindly to his brother-in-law skipping the wedding of his eldest daughter.
I’m sure there is a perfectly reasonable explanation. Someone might have taken ill. Perhaps several of them, and they decided to stay home and not pass their malady on to the wedding guests.
Making the bride and groom ill on their wedding day wouldn’t be the nicest of gifts.
Yes, that’s probably what has happened. That’s one way of getting out of the drudgery of a wedding breakfast. All those dull speeches.
He loved his cousin Maggie dearly. Seeing her so happy with her new husband, Piers Denford, had Francis blinking back a tear.
