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A dark-haired constable scoffed. “Not bloody likely,” he declared. “Not unless it is from the Prince Regent himself.”
“If that is the case, this matter should be resolved nicely,” Baldwin replied, nodding his head towards the pocket of his waistcoat. Oliver reached in and pulled out a folded piece of paper, then extended it towards the men.
One of the men snatched it and his eyes grew wide as he read the paper. He looked up at Baldwin in surprise. “This is from the Prince Regent,” he declared. “It says that you are under his protection, and that we take orders from you.”
“That is correct,” Baldwin said, accepting the letter back. “I am going to take this wagon out of Fieldstone Square, and I would appreciate it if you could remove the body.”
“Who is she?” the dark-haired constable asked.
“Her name is Marie,” Baldwin replied, “and that is all you need to know about her.”
“Did you kill her?”
Baldwin shook his head. “I did not. A sharpshooter took the shot from that building,” he revealed, pointing towards the brick building.
The dark-haired constable let out a low, approving whistle. “That was an impressive shot. That building is over a hundred yards away.”
Another constable placed his hand on the wine cask. “What is in the barrel?” he asked curiously.
“A bomb that could blow up this entire square,” Baldwin replied honestly, and was gratified to see the constable remove his hand and step back.
Turning back towards Miss Dowding, he closed the distance between them in a few strides. “I need to do a few things before I can call on you,” he said. “Do you have a ride home?”
Oliver spoke up from behind him. “I can see her home in your new hackney.”
“My hackney?” Baldwin asked, turning to face him.
Oliver smiled ruefully. “When Miss Dowding pulled up at the Blue Boar, she was frantic to see you and informed us of Marie’s plan. So, I bought this hackney from the driver and drove us here.”
“You bought a hackney?”
“You misunderstood me,” Oliver said. “You bought the hackney. The previous owner will be coming by Hawthorne House tomorrow to collect his money.”
Baldwin lifted his brow. “What am I going to do with a hackney?”
“Not my concern,” Oliver teased as he went to step up onto the driver’s box. “Perhaps you can sell it back to him at a reduced price.”
Chuckling, Baldwin turned back to Miss Dowding. “My brother is an idiot,” he muttered.
She smiled, her eyes lighting up. “I am so happy to see you alive,” she said.
“I feel the same way about seeing you.” He took a small step closer to her.
Miss Dowding tilted her head to look up at him. “I feared that we wouldn’t arrive in time, especially since Marie was determined to kill you and everyone else in Fieldstone Square.”
“I had the situation in hand,” he assured her.
A line creased her brow as she asked, “Was that letter truly from the Prince Regent?”
“It was.”
She went up onto her tiptoes and whispered next to his ear, “Do all agents get one of those?”
He stared back at her, not knowing what to say. He could lie, but he found he didn’t want to. He was tired of keeping secrets, and he wanted to let Miss Dowding in.
“Marie told me,” she whispered. “I hope this means you won’t have to kill me now.”
His lips twitched in amusement. “No, but it means we will need to have a serious talk later.”
“I shall be looking forward to it.”
Baldwin offered his arm and assisted her into the hackney. “I don’t know when I shall see you next, but I’ll be counting the moments until I do.”
“I understand.”
He closed the door and watched the hackney drive away until it turned a corner. Then, he turned back towards the wagon, knowing what needed to be done.
It was time to get back to work.
