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Dixon shifted positions, retraining his firearm on the barn. When he got close enough for Asquith to hear him, he furiously whispered, “Who the devil is that?”
“The Earl of Eltenham,” Asquith said. “Willard’s father.”
“Are we convening the whole house of Lords?!”
The carriage stopped about a cricket pitch away, and Eltenham emerged.
Dixon squinted. “Good God! He has a Baker rifle!”
Asquith cursed and started toward Eltenham.
“I am going to enjoy making both of you suffer,” he heard Willard’s distinctive voice.
Asquith had nearly reached the earl when the earl’s rifle clapped. A cloud of acrid smoke filled the air. The barn window shattered. He heard an ominous thud and froze.
“Untie me! Quickly.” Neville’s voice sounded from within the barn. “And then give me the flintlock.”
He exhaled in relief. Neville could only be talking to Millie, meaning neither of them had been shot.
“Lord Asquith,” Eltenham greeted with a sickly smile. “How good of you to join us.”
Eltenham motioned toward the carriage, and another man stepped out. Meanwhile, Dixon approached warily from the side.
“This is Barnes, the local JP. I heard you summoned him over reports of poachers in the area. Good man. Look what they’ve left behind.”
“Poachers,” Dixon repeated, perplexed.
Eltenham looked down his nose. “Who is he?”
“A Bow Street runner.”
“Ah.” He turned to Dixon. “A long way from your bailiwick, wouldn’t you say?” Eltenham’s calculating gaze moved between the Runner and Barnes. “Barnes, escort him over to the door, would you. You may tell him what we both witnessed along the way.”
The message was clear—Eltenham and the JP’s word against Asquith and the runner.
Eltenham was much more powerful.
Asquith addressed Eltenham with a lowered voice. “The tollkeeper, I assume, informed you about your son’s abduction of an earl? And about the young women he kept here against their will?”
“The tollkeeper understands he was misinformed and is looking forward to both an increase in his wages and the restoration of order.” His voice dropped to the level of a hiss. “Hampton apprised me of the brothel and the forged bond. The tavern keepers will be compensated for their inconvenience.”
Asquith could only blink.
“What have you told the Runner about the bond?” Eltenham demanded.
“Nothing at all.”
“Hampton said you were a man of your word,” the earl said. His lip curled, reminding Asquith of Willard. “Just like your father.”
“And proud,” Asquith said without flinching. “The young women held against their will need compensation, as well. And any accomplices in their abductions need to face justice.”
A look of long-suffering crossed Eltenham's face, then stiffly, almost reluctantly, he inclined his head. “Have Dixon locate their families—with discretion. I will supply whatever funds are required so long as he keeps my name clean.” He turned away. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to see my son’s body.”
Eltenham headed for the barn, head held high but walking with a certain stiffness. Asquith followed. Barnes opened the door for Eltenham and ushered him inside.
Asquith started toward the barn and then stopped. He knew Neville and Millie had survived. His next priority was Preston.
Asquith met Dixon’s gaze and nodded toward the house.
