Jared looked at Olympia. "Do not concern yourself, Olympia. Robert is fine. I shall return with him in a short while."
"Yes, of course." Olympia took Hugh's hand and reached out for Ethan's. "We shall wait right here for you."
Jared turned and walked away. Within seconds he had disappeared into the crowd.
Hugh clutched Olympia's hand very tightly. His lower lip trembled. "I think Mr. Chillhurst, I mean, his lordship, is very, very angry with Robert."
"Nonsense," Olympia said reassuringly. "He is merely annoyed."
"Perhaps he will be annoyed with all of us because of Robert," Hugh said worriedly. "He may decide that we are too much trouble to bother with after all."
Olympia bent down toward Hugh. "Calm yourself. Chillhurst is not going to toss us out on our ear because of Robert or anything else."
"He can hardly do that now, can he?" Ethan said, brightening. "After all, he has married you, Aunt Olympia. He is stuck with us, is he not?"
Olympia looked at Ethan. "Quite right. He is stuck with us."
It was a sobering thought. Olympia's mood of anticipation and excitement evaporated. When one got down to the heart of the matter, one had to acknowledge that Chillhurst had married her for reasons of honor and passion.
And now he was stuck with her.
Chapter 13
He should have guessed that Robert would be unable to resist the dare of the Dark Walk Jared thought. It was his own fault that the boy had slipped away. He had been thinking of his wedding night, not his responsibilities. Passion had ruled his brain all day and now, as always when passion was involved, there were consequences.
The myriad colored lanterns that lit Vauxhall's grounds became increasingly sparse as Jared made his way toward the Dark Walk. The weak moonlight provided little illumination. The music and the noise of the crowd faded behind him as he moved deeper into the vast gardens.
The trees grew close and thick along the darkest of the long paths that had been laid out on the extensive grounds. Here and there Jared saw couples that had sought out the shadows for obviously amorous purposes. When he passed a particularly dense area of foliage he heard a woman's soft, sensual laughter followed by a man's low, eager murmur.
But there was no sign of Robert.
Jared studied the shadows intently, wondering if he might have miscalculated. Perhaps Robert had not come this way, after all. In which case, Jared thought, he had a much larger problem on his hands than he had anticipated.
Visions of his wedding night receded into the distance. At this rate he would be lucky to get everyone home and in bed by one in the morning.
His entire schedule for the evening was rapidly being thrown into serious disarray.
Leaves shivered at the side of the path. A man coughed softly.
"Ahem. Ye wouldn't happen to be a rich cove named Chillhurst, would ye?"
Jared came to a halt as the rough whisper cut into his thoughts. He turned toward the thick stand of trees that stood on the left of the walk.
"I'm Chillhurst."
"Thought so. He said ye'd be wearing a patch over one eye. 'Looks like a bloody pirate,' he said."
"Who said that?"
"Me employer." A thin, short, wiry man dressed in a dirty brown cap, a badly stained shirt, and a pair of loose-fitting trousers emerged from the trees. He sauntered out onto the path and gave Jared a gap-toothed smile. "Evenin' yer lordship. Nice night for doin' business, ain't it?"
"That depends. Who are you?" Jared asked.
"Let's see now." The wiry little man rubbed his jaw reflectively. "Got friends what calls me Travelin' Tom." He grinned cheerfully. "Ye can call me that, if ye care to."
"Thank you. Now as you already appear to know who I am, perhaps we could dispense with the introductions and get directly to the subject at hand. I have a rather important appointment to keep tonight."
Traveling Tom nodded, pleased. "The little blighter said ye was keen on keepin' to yer schedule. Suits me. I'm a man o' business meself, same as you and the cove what employed me this evenin'. A man o' business is obliged to pay prodigious attention to his appointments, ain't he?"
"Quite correct."
"We men o' business know how to deal with each other." Traveling Tom shook his head sadly. "Not like the other sort."
"What other sort?" Jared asked patiently.
"The sort what's all flash and show and no brains. Ye know what I'm talkin' about, I'm certain. There's the type what always seems to get emotional about a simple matter of business. They start wavin' pistols about and makin' ridiculous threats."
"Yes, I know the sort."
"But then there's rational men such as ourselves, m'lord." Traveling Tom nodded sagely. "Men what keeps cool heads and uses logic instead of passion to make business decisions. We don't let the blood get hot over a triflin' financial matter, do we?"
"No point in it," Jared agreed. "Ah, just where is the little blighter, if I might ask?"
"Safe enough. Got him stashed just outside the grounds. Now, then, if ye want him back in a timely fashion, which I'm assumin' ye do, I suggest we get the business done."
"I am at your service." Jared held on to his temper and refused to let his concern for Robert show in his face. Nothing good would come of displaying any sign of emotion. Traveling Tom was right. For Robert's sake, the matter must be treated as nothing more than a business transaction.
Jared had been through a similar scene a few months ago in Spain. On that occasion he had found himself negotiating with hill bandits for the release of his two cousins.
It seemed to be his fate to be relegated to the task of rescuing others from the consequences of their reckless ways.
Who would rescue me? he wondered.
He pushed the fleeting thought aside to concentrate on the matter at hand.
The weight of the dagger inside his coat was reassuring but he was loathe to produce it. In his experience violence was frequently an unnecessary last resort, the mark of failed negotiations. There were usually better methods of dealing with problems. Calmer, saner, more reasonable methods.
"Glad to hear it." Traveling Tom gave him a wink that implied they were both men of the world. "Now then, it's very simple, m'lord. Me client wants something from ye. In exchange, he'll give ye back the little blighter."
"What does your client want from me?"
"Now that he didn't say. Between ourselves, m'lord, I expect it'll be a prodigious amount of money. Ye know how this sort o' thing works, I'm certain. All I was told is that I'm supposed to spirit the little blighter away tonight and deliver a message to ye. The rest is none o' my concern."
"What is the message?" Jared asked.
Traveling Tom hitched up his belt and assumed an air of grave importance. "Ye'll be receivin' a letter tomorrow tellin' ye to come to a certain place at a certain time. The letter will tell ye what it is yer to bring with ye."
"That's all?"
"Afraid so, sir." Traveling Tom shrugged. "As I said, my part in the matter is of a somewhat limited nature."
"May I inquire how much your client is paying you for your efforts this evening?" Jared asked softly.
Traveling Tom gazed at him with deep interest. "A very pertinent question, if I may say so, m'lord. Very pertinent, indeed. As it happens, I do believe I'm not bein' paid quite enough for all my time and trouble."
"That does not surprise me. You said your employer was a man of business and such men always seek a bargain, do they not?"
"It's as natural to 'em as breathin' air, m'lord."
"I am well aware that a man of your talents must place a high value on his time." Jared eased his watch out of his pocket and frowned thoughtfully at the face. It was so dark he could not read the hour, but there was just enough moonlight to reveal the glint of gold.