Page 7 of The Devil to Pay

“Oh,” Jules replied, marginally mollified by this.

“But quite apart from anything else, the moment you open your mouth, you’re sunk.”

“I did wonder about that,” Jules admitted. “I thought perhaps an accent, but—”

“No!” Briggs exclaimed, looking appalled at the suggestion.

“All right, keep your wig on. I rejected the idea, but that’s why I figured out how I can make it work, you see. It’s quite brilliant.”

Briggs eyed him with increasing alarm. “Oh?” he said with obvious foreboding.

“Yes,” Jules said cheerfully. “For you know, we’re not so very different. You’re tall and dark and well built. We might not pass for brothers… but cousins should work well enough for the purpose.”

“Cousins?” Briggs said faintly, paling as his employer’s words sank in.

“Yes, cousins. For I remember very clearly you telling me when your father became head gardener at Mitcham Priory a year or two back, which means you must know a thing or two about gardening too.”

Briggs stared at him in bewilderment. “I don’t understand, my lord. How on earth does that help you get a job as a gardener?”

“It doesn’t. It helps you get a job as a gardener, and you need only say that I’m a long-lost relation staying with you for a few weeks and I’m hard-working and more importantly free labour who would be happy to pitch in while I’m here. It’s only we’ve not seen each other in forever and don’t wish to miss a moment before I’m shipped off to… to Canada, or something of the sort.”

Jules regarded Briggs, who’d gone an odd shade somewhere between alabaster and a sickly green.

“Well?” he demanded, grinning. “Doesn’t it sound like a lark?”

Briggs groaned.

“I’ll pay double your wages to do it,” Jules said desperately. “And you’ll keep your wages for the gardening job, too.”

Silence.

“How about I say an extra fifty pounds on top to make it worth your while?”

Briggs groaned again and sank into the nearest chair, clutching his head.

“A hundred pounds.”

There was a soft sobbing sound.

“Two hundred, you manipulative devil, which is daylight robbery, and you jolly well know it.”

Briggs’ hand shot out. “Done.”

“I have been,” Jules muttered.

“But there’s a proviso,” Briggs added, giving Jules a grin he could not quite like.

“What?” he asked dubiously.

“I’m the only one who knows a damn thing about gardening, so I’m in charge.”

“Fine,” Jules said, waving off. After all, how hard could it be?

Chapter 3

Dearest Pip,

How I wish you were here today. I need your steady presence, your kindness, and even your scolding would be welcome. That must show you what a sorry state I am in. I don’t know why it is you are keeping away, but if it is because you fear you have let Mama and Papa down, please know that I understand.