fast.
The more she thought about it, the more sense it made to Nell, for she was convinced by now that the Fleming and the Irish-woman were partners as well as bedmates, linked as much by greed as lust. Glancing uneasily at Nora's delicately drawn profile, Nell marveled anew that a woman could have such an innocent, lovely face and such an ugly soul.
The horse market was in full swing, would-be buyers mingling with browsers and those who'd come out to gamble on the afternoon races. Nora paid no heed to the activities going on around them, ignoring the admiring and lascivious comments hurled her way. Nell followed mutely behind. Now that she was so close to confronting Gilbert the Fleming, she felt as if she'd swallowed a butterfly, an entire flock of butterflies, so unsettled was her stomach. Sweet Lacy, what has your mama gotten herself into?
By the time they reached the horse pool, they'd left the crowds behind. Nell understood now how perfectly Gilbert had chosen his ground; midst all this open space, no one could take him unaware. The slightest shadow falling across his path and he'd be in the saddle, spurring his mount for the open fields and freedom. He was waiting by the water's edge, holding the reins of a rangy bay horse, watching intently as the women approached. From a distance, he seemed quite ordinary — no tail, no cloven hooves. But Nell knew better; she did not doubt that she was about to double-cross one of Lucifer's own.
But at least she'd not be venturing into the nether world alone. All was in readiness. Off to her right, she could see a carefully positioned cart, covered with canvas. A slovenly dressed stranger was watering his animals at the pool. Although Nell had never seen him before, she knew he was one of Jonas's men, for she'd recognized Justin's chestnut and Luke's sorrel among his string. He was haggling with two monks about the price of a white mule. Nell dared not look in their direction; it was enough that they were there, her guardian angels clad in the stark black of the Benedictines. She had not been forsaken. She had friends. Lifting her chin, she squared her shoulders and walked toward Gilbert the Fleming.
Nora made the introductions. Nell waited tensely then to see what the other woman would do. They'd gambled that she'd not want to linger. The Fleming was a wanted felon, after all, and Nora had so far shown a very healthy concern for her own welfare. But if they'd guessed wrong about her, the next part of their plan could be imperiled. What if Nora remembered Aldred? Nell held her breath, exhaling it in an audible sigh as Nora kissed Gilbert casually on the cheek, waved nonchalantly, and sauntered away, not looking back.
Gilbert was appraising Nell quite openly, and when she began to fidget under his scrutiny, he said coolly, "You seem nervous, Bella."
"Nervous? I'm scared half to death, and who could blame me? It is not as if I've had any practice at this!"
He seemed amused by her outburst. "You mean this is the first husband you've plotted to kill?"
Nell flinched, for she'd gotten back into character by now, and Bella would have been offended by that. "Must you put it so… so crudely? It is not the way you make it sound. Did Nora not tell you how he maltreated me and — "
"What makes you think I care? Your reasons for doing this are between you and God. Justify it to Him if you can, but not to me. I need only know if you can meet my price. You told Nora you could. Suppose you tell me how."
Nell's mouth had gone very dry. She'd never seen eyes like his. Dark and flat and glittering, they seemed dead to her, like the eyes of the snakes Justin said he used in his crimes. "I do not have any money of my own," she said hoarsely. "But my husband has a lot of money. He must, for he spends almost none of it. He keeps it in an iron coffer at his shop. I suppose he thinks it is safer there than at home, for he'll not trust me with the key, either. But I've seen him open it, and there are coins in there beyond counting, mayhap as much as twenty-five shillings. So… I thought we could split the money. Half for you and
half for me. That… that seems fair."
The corner of his mouth twitched. "Very fair."
Nell knew full well why he'd agreed so readily; he had every intention of keeping all the money for himself. But silly little Bella would have believed him, and so she smiled and nodded, as if relieved that they'd come to terms so quickly.
"The easiest way," he said, "would be to make it look as if your husband was slain during a robbery of his shop. But what of the journeyman? Does he sleep there at night?"
"No. Abel insisted upon charging him rent and he preferred to find a room of his own elsewhere. Nora… told you about Joel?"
His eyes gleamed knowingly, so salaciously that Nell found it easy to blush. "I know you've been creeping into his bed every chance you get, if that is what you mean. But what puzzles me is why you did not turn to him instead of to me. Why not ask him
to help get rid of the inconvenient husband?"
"I could never do that!" Nell did her best to sound appalled. "Joel would never take part in a killing, no matter how much he loves me. It is just not in his nature." She saw the outlaw's smug half-smile and suppressed a smile of her own, one of victory, for this was the last nail driven into the Fleming's coffin. He'd be keen to do her killing, for now he knew she could be bled white afterward. Whenever he and Nora wanted extra money, they need only threaten to reveal the truth to Joel and she'd pay to keep them quiet.
"I want to do it soon," he said, "for I've been inactive of late and I need some fast money. Where is his shop?"
Nell was prepared for this question. "On Candle-wright Street, opposite St Clement's Church." She yearned to turn her head, to see if Justin and Luke were closing in yet, but she dared not. They had agreed beforehand on the need for extreme caution, for with a man like Gilbert, they could not afford the slightest misstep.
"I'll want to check it out for myself. In the meantime, you are to get me a copy of his money box key. Do not argue, woman, just do it! The man does take a bath occasionally, does he not? Whilst he bathes, you press the key into warm wax and make an impression. I know a locksmith who'll ask no awkward questions."
"I… I will try," Nell said hesitantly. "I must — Jesu!" Gasping, she clapped her hand to her mouth. "It is my husband's cousin! And he's seen me, is coming this way! What will I say,
what — "
"Get hold of yourself," he snapped. Grabbing her arm, he dug his fingers into her wrist, causing her to gasp again, this time in pain. "Tell him you're looking for a horse on your husband's behalf."
Aldred was already bearing down upon them. "Bella! What are you doing here? Where is Cousin Abel?" He was overly hearty in his greetings, but he was bound to be nervous, desperate to get back into Jonas's good graces after botching his surveillance of Nora's house.
"Abel is not with me. This… this is going to be a surprise. I want him to buy a horse, and I thought if I got the prices and such beforehand, I might persuade him. It would make his deliveries so much easier…"
"It would, indeed," Aldred agreed enthusiastically. "It is lucky for you that I happened along, for I know all about horses and can help you pick out a sound one." Brushing past the Fleming, Aldred began to run his hands down the bay's forelegs. Nell looked over at Gilbert and shrugged helplessly. He was scowling, but there was nothing he could do except play the charade out. Aldred was on the other side of the horse by now, talking about the need to look out for "splints" and to make sure the horse was not "touched in the wind." Nell thought he sounded quite convincing. Just having him beside her was a comfort. She no longer felt quite so vulnerable, so exposed to the outlaw's malice and blade.
Shifting so she could survey the field, she thought all looked perfectly normal and deceptively peaceful, given what was about to happen. Having rejected the white mule, the Black Monks were pacing sedately in their direction, their cowls shadowing their faces. The disappointed vendor was trailing after them, offering to drop the mule's price. Two dogs were romping near the cart, and a fair-haired man was leading his horse toward the pond's edge. When Nell would later replay the scene in her memory, she could not recall anything that seemed amiss, out of order.