“Not very honorable.” There was no anger or recrimination in Ezra’s voice.
“Stealing hard-won valuables and possessions from innocent travelers isn’t particularly honorable, either, so we’re not going to debate who between us possesses more integrity. Now, move.”
They did as she directed, keeping the requisite ten yards in front as she rode behind them. They moved with leisurely, unhurried strides, all of them loose-limbed and comfortable as they wended their way through the forest.
“Quiet,” she commanded, when they murmured to each other. Were they…laughing? Chatting as though it was a fine evening for a stroll?
She was taking them to be arrested. There was no conceivable reason why they should behave so insouciantly.
Dusk began to fall, shading the sky above in deepening hues of blue and lavender. Night creatures began to make themselves known, owls hooting, nocturnal hunters trotting through the brush.
She hadn’t much experience with the outdoors, especially after dark. The winding streets of London were far more familiar. They held their own dangers, but she was experienced with those dangers and how to protect herself from them. When Charlie had begun working as a bodyguard, he made certain to educate her on all the ways she could be safe, all the means of breaking a chokehold or disarming an opponent, and how to load and fire many different types of firearms. She could wield a blade with a fair degree of efficiency, too.
Fortunate that her brother didn’t see her sex as a liability, or that, as a woman, believe she was too fragile to know all the critical skills one had to possess to survive the streets and beyond.
Here in this Essex forest, she might not know everything needed to fend off a wild animal, but she was more concerned about the men she’d captured. Wily, they were, and alarmingly unconcerned about what awaited them. Did they not understand? Or was it a matter of simply not caring?
“Douglas Bremmer challenged us to a football match Thursday next,” Rhys said to his colleagues.
“He enjoys humiliating himself,” Ezra answered.
“Or his memory’s faulty,” Tej noted.
If her timing was correct, she’d get them to their destination at the precise moment she needed. Fortunate that she hadn’t lingered in Ezra’s bed…tempting as the idea was…
She pushed the thought from her head. It had been a risk to bed him, but he’d been simply so delicious, and it had been so long since she’d done anything for herself, so focused was she on her employment.
There weren’t many women like her in London, or, hell, anywhere, and that’s what made her services as private security so in demand. Few ever expected a woman to be employed for security purposes. It galled sometimes, but it also allowed her the opportunity to do her job, unlike many others.
Fortunately, Ezra, Tej, and Rhys hadn’t put up much of a fight. Which was, as she’d earlier considered…odd. Suspect, even.
According to accounts, they’d been holding up carriages on the road to London for three years. They’d never killed anyone, though occasionally a coachman would receive a bullet in the shoulder or leg if he attempted to be heroic. Yet the three highwaymen were criminals. That was never in doubt. And the punishment for robbing carriages was, at best, imprisonment or transportation. Hanging was the most severe sentence. It would make sense that Ezra would at the very least try to take her pistol from her. Or that Tej and Rhys might attempt the same.
A chill raced down her spine. Killing these men was too severe a punishment for their crimes. Yet she’d been hired to do a job, and she never backed down from a job. If she did, her gender would be blamed for her possessing too soft a heart, making her unsuitable for more assignments. No aristocrat would hire her if they felt she was untrustworthy or easily swayed by a pair of mist-gray eyes and a giant cock.
“Did you try the new game pie at the Doe and Dove?” Ezra asked.
“I cannot understand why Fiona keeps fiddling with the recipe,” Tej said. “It was fine as it was.”
“Ah, but Fiona demands perfection,” Rhys threw in. “She’s not satisfied with fine.”
“Be silent,” Jessica snapped, but the men kept talking amongst themselves.
With her parents dead, and Charlie off on assignment somewhere on the Continent, she was on her own. She was responsible for her food, her lodging, her clothes. Everything. It was too easy for someone, especially a woman, to slide into destitution. Having grown up on the very edge of poverty, she’d no desire to repeat the experience.
Sir Harold Mowbray had expressed grave doubts about taking her on to protect his jewels being transferred from his country estate to his bank in London. The plan had been for her to ride in the morning mail coach, apprehend and arrest Ezra and his gang. In the evening, the baronet himself would travel in his private carriage to safely transport his valuables. Jewels, Mowbray had said, worth a bloody fortune. Never in her life would Jessica ever lay claim to that kind of wealth, but here she was, helping protect that which she’d never possess.
Jessica would meet up with Mowbray on the road, where the Brody Gang would be taken into custody by armed guards. They’d bring the men to the magistrate, and the trio would face trial. But that part wouldn’t require Jessica. After handing Ezra, Tej, and Rhys over, her mission would be completed, and she’d receive payment and go on her way to another job. Protecting another wealthy person from the poor and desperate, who needed money far more than any landed gentry ever did.
She fought a sigh.
“Sir Harold Mowbray isn’t the man you believe he is,” Ezra said over his shoulder. His tone was casual, but there was a thread of steel beneath it.
How did he know the direction of her thoughts?
“Quiet,” Jessica clipped.
“Where do you think his wealth comes from?” Ezra pressed. “Where do you think it goes?”
