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Chapter One
“Almost here,” Reginald muttered.
The carriage, his prey, came nearer with every passing second. Reginald adjusted his position, taking care not to crush any of the dry, brittle leaves underfoot. He doubted that either the driver or the horses would notice him, for he’d taken good care to hide himself, but a careless highwayman was as good as dead, and Reginald had no intention of facing either the gaol or a hanging.
Reginald’s blue eyes swept over the team of horses pulling the carriage. They were fine animals, much nicer than his own russet mare who he’d hidden further off the road. She was near enough to aid in a quick escape, but not enough to draw attention. Usually, Reginald didn’t steal horses; they were too much trouble and couldn’t be hidden beneath cloaks and shirts the way that money and jewels could. These were tempting, though. They could fetch a decent price if he could find a buyer.
It’s not as if this man would miss the horses or could not afford to replace them with an equally good pair.
When the horses were only a few feet away, at a narrow bend in the road, Reginald sprang from his hiding place. He withdrew his pistol and pointed it firmly at the driver’s face. “Halt!”
The driver pulled back on the reins, and the horses stopped abruptly. Reginald smiled grimly and tried to conceal his relief. He really had no desire to shoot any man. He was a thief first and foremost, not a killer. But he’d found that men could be notoriously unpredictable. Most often, they surrendered. Then, Reginald and his men relieved their wealthy travelers of any valuables and sent them on their way. But there were always a few that fought.
“Cooperate and no harm will come to you,” Reginald said. “Do you understand? We only want your passenger’s valuables. We can avoid bloodshed today.”
At Reginald’s words, his associates revealed themselves. There was Charles, broad-shouldered and tall. He was a dependable sort of fellow with a curly red beard and a noticeable scar over the empty socket, where his right eye should’ve been. The other was Edward, who was so slight that he appeared as if a good gust of wind would knock him over. But he was quick and good with locks. They emerged from behind the thick woods and brush which lined the sides of the road and slowly approached the carriage. Each brandished pistols, which if everything went well, would remain unused. Only one member of their band was missing—Isaac, who was usually responsible for arranging the best robberies.
The driver tensed, and his hands tightened on the reins. He was a thin, young man with a ruddy complexion and limp brown hair. As Reginald approached, the driver visibly shivered. “Don’t do anything foolish,” Reginald said. “We’re not here for you.”
There was no point in robbing the driver; he probably didn’t have any money on him. And it wasn’t as if Reginald especially enjoyed what he did. There was no satisfaction in stealing from the poor, who were like him and just struggling to survive.
Charles rapped his pistol against the door of the carriage, which promptly opened.
“What is the meaning of this?” a man’s voice boomed.
It was an old voice but one dripping with authority. Reginald could recognize one of thetonfrom that tone alone. “Your money or your life!” Charles declared. “Quickly, now!”
Already, Edward was emptying the carriage of its luggage. Reginald smiled pleasantly at the driver. “How much do you earn for driving that old man around?” he asked. “Is it thirty pounds a year? A small amount from a man who has so much more than you.”
The driver swallowed.
“Less?” Reginald asked.
“Twenty-five,” the driver replied at last. “It’s a very generous salary, one which my family greatly appreciates.”
Reginald nodded. His eyes flitted to Charles. He could only partially see the man because of the carriage door, but the transaction seemed to be going well. And Edward seemed to be nearly finished relieving the carriage of its contents and taking it to the waiting horses.
The best jobs were the ones which went like this. “Your family?” Reginald prompted.
It was best to distract the driver. One never knew when a man might lose his nerve and try something foolish, such as attempting to flee in the midst of a robbery, and Reginald had learned the art of distraction well.
“My sister,” the driver replied. “I have a younger sister and my mother. I’ve been taking care of them both since my father died two winters ago.”
“Quite a responsibility to bear!” Reginald exclaimed.
The driver slowly nodded, and he offered a shy, tentative smile. Reginald grinned and lowered the pistol. Instead, he withdrew four shillings and held his hand out. “Here,” he said. “Buy your sister and your mother something. Something that brings them pleasure, not something they need.”
The driver blinked several times and looked taken aback. His wide, brown eyes searched Reginald’s face for any sign of deception, but he slowly extended his hand. Reginald deposited the coins into the young man’s palm. It was a small amount, but it was enough to make a difference to the driver. Besides, the occupant of this carriage would have more than sufficient funds to make the venture profitable. Reginald was willing to give a little to ensure the driver’s cooperation.
“Is that everything?” Edward asked.
“It appears to be,” Charles replied.
Reginald patted the flank of one of the horses and walked along the side of the carriage. He peered inside. The velvet-lined carriage had only one occupant. It was an older gentleman, but despite his finely tailored clothes, there was something vaguely sickly about the man. His brown hair was thick but streaked with white and gray, and his pale face was heavily lined. There were dark shadows beneath his eyes, which spoke of either sleepless nights, illness, or frequent indulgence. Perhaps, it was all three. His eyes were blue and cold, and something about his gaze was sharp, nearly hawk-like.
“How much money did he have?” Reginald asked, leaning over to inspect the stolen items.
Charles held open the bag, now filled with a handful of jewelry and coins. Reginald arched an eyebrow. “I’d expected more.”
