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He nodded and thanked her for the information. She smiled, pocketing his payment for the porter and said softly, “You come see me after, huh?”

He smiled and lifted his porter in toast to her suggestion.

He crossed the room casually and entered the short corridor. He paused outside the door and set his ear to it.

“I tell you the man has been shooting his mouth off. He needs to be silenced, or others will start to do the same.”

“Agreed. It will all unravel soon if we’re not careful. I was sure His Lordship would be back off to London in a trice, but it’s not so. You had best apply some pressure to the old man.”

“It’ll need to be more than that. To send a message.”

“I never agreed to that!”

“You don’t have to; the boys will take care of it. It’s not like anyone will miss the old man personally. He’s the perfect tool to send a message. Put the fear of God into them, and there will be no one to take up the cudgels in his defense.”

“That doesn’t solve the problem we’ve got with His Lordship!”

Bidenden grinned and pushed the door open.

“I hope I’m not interrupting, gentlemen,” he said, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him.

Baines turned, his mouth falling open. “Lord B—Mr. Passmore, you’re early!”

Bidenden approached the table, drew out a chair, and sat down with a nod to Hendrix.

“I believe, gentlemen, we have a common problem,” he said, putting his tankard on the table. He held out his hand to Mr. Hendrix. “Viscount Bidenden, the Marquess of Malmsbury’s heir. You may have heard of me?”

Hendrix’s mouth also fell open. Then he closed it and took Bidenden’s hand in his thin hand and shook it. “Delighted to make your acquaintance, my lord. How might we help you?”

“By helping yourselves. You would like Lord Kenrick to ah—disappear? So would I.” He smiled as Hendrix’s eyes grew round as saucers.

He turned to Baines. “Perhaps you can prod His Lordship into a visit to the metropolis? Leaving his lady behind of course.”

Baines shut his mouth that had fallen open again and swallowed, running a finger around his neckcloth. “Ah, I believe that may be imminent, my lord. I have already indicated to him that if he wishes to carry out the number of repairs he is contemplating, more funds will be required. Which will necessitate a visit to his solicitors and the bank in London.”

“Excellent!” Bidenden raised his tankard and took a long draft. “Mr. Hendrix, you will let Mr. Baines here know when His Lordship leaves the house. Mr. Baines will no doubt do the rest? Am I right?”

Baines narrowed his eyes and then nodded slowly. “Aye, that can be arranged. But exactly what do you want us to do with him?”

Bidenden said, “I really don’t care as long he doesn’t stand in my way.” He paused and then went on pleasantly. “I plan to marry his widow, you see. You will find me a much more accommodating landlord than the current incumbent, if you follow my drift.”

“Ah, yes, my lord. You are crystal clear,” said Baines with a smile. “My boys will take care of it.” The Baines boys were very like their sire and in a few years would resemble him closely. But right now, they were big, muscular young men. Men the neighborhood had learned to fear. Bidenden had no doubt that, between them, they could do for Rick very nicely. He wouldn’t need to sully his own hands with the job. Very neat really.

He rose from the table. “I’ll bid you good evening, gentlemen,” he said, moving to the door where he paused and looked back. “Of course I will deny ever having had this conversation. You do know that don’t you? Doublecross me and you’ll hang. I’m a peer, you see, and any magistrate will have to take my word over yours.” He waited a moment to ensure this sank in, and then left the room quietly.

Returning to the bar, he smiled at the widow who slipped him a key and murmured, “I’ll join you shortly.”

Chapter 18

A week after their encounter with Bidenden, Rick and Cecey arrived in the stables to go for their morning ride. It was becoming their habit to take the horses out for a gallop before breakfast. It was another fine summer day and bidding fair to be hot. Rick gave Cecey a boost, and then mounted Sovereign, who uncharacteristically danced and bucked a bit.

“Steady, old fellow!” said Rick, keeping his seat with difficulty. “Resty are you? Wanting a good gallop? You shall have one.” He looked over at Cecey, who had Demeter well in hand. “Ready?”

She nodded. “Yes! I’ll race you to the top of the hill!”

Rick grinned. “On count of three! One. Two. Th—” Cecey was off before he finished, and he kicked Sovereign to follow her. The stallion took off with a leap that almost threw Rick backward, and the horse tore across the fields behind the barn in a helter-skelter fashion that had Rick clinging to the saddle and wrestling to stay seated.

“Bloody hell!” he exclaimed. “What is wrong with you today?”