Page 52 of The Devil Himself
However, they had made exceptional time for such terrible road conditions, arriving in Eton a mere six hours after they left London proper, and he had a feeling there was no way Arthur could have made it there before them, even with his head start.
In fact, he would imagine that Arthur was still sleeping off his drunkenness at a coaching inn somewhere along the way, but it would not do to be too complacent. They still needed to be on their guard.
“What do we do first?” he asked Rys quietly as they walked their horses into the village, which in itself was small and was mainly there to support the college. It was primarily homes, so they made their way along the tiny High Street, trying not to wake anyone who might still be abed. They drew no notice from the locals; they were used to seeing people come and go to the school all the time.
That worked in their favor when they stopped at a small cottage. Rys vaulted out of the saddle and moved to knock on the door. When it opened, Sauce Box Joe stood there, blinking sleep out of his eyes and then staring at them with surprise.
“Mr. Grey. What’s amiss?” Alert suddenly, Joe tensed, his stance, looking as if he were ready to start a boxing match.
“Who is watching Gareth?” Rys snapped, pushing his way into the cottage so they were not discussing this on the street.
Luc tied off the horses swiftly, following. Joe shut the door behind them.
“The two extra men you sent are taking shifts with me, and Mr. Collingsworth sent even more men. I know them both, and I trust them, so they’re watching from more of a distance.” Joe’s brow furrowed. “Mr. Collingsworth doesn’t often do favors, suchlike.”
Rys scoffed. “He does for me because he needs one in return from time to time. My brother Arthur is on his way here. I believe he has lost the plot entirely. Suffice to say that circumstances have hastened his plans to injure Gareth and take his money. I sent you a message, but I imagine we have beaten it here.
Joe’s eyebrows rose almost to his hairline. “Arthur. Not the older one.”
“I know. It’s a hard thing to believe, isn’t it? We need to get to Gareth. I’m going to take him out of school and remove him to my brother’s country estate in Kent. It’s far more defensible.We’ll need to get your men together and get a carriage outfitted as soon as possible. Spare no expense.”
“Of course. When do we leave?” Joe asked, moving to pull on breeches under his nightshirt, then stripping off his nightshirt to don a rough woolen shirt. His skin bore some fascinating scars, evidence of his rough life. Still, his body was truly impressive.
“As soon as we can. We’re assuming that Arthur stopped for the rest of the night at a coaching inn somewhere along the road. The weather has been foul, but we can’t be certain he slept. One way or the other, he would have been stopping to change horses, where we’ve had good road horses who could make the trip in one go. That should give us at least an hour or two of lead time.”
Joe splashed water on his face from a basin, then slicked his hair back. “Right-e-o, sir. I’ll get to it right quick. The stable owner here is accommodating for the right price.”
Rys pulled out a wallet to hand Joe some bank-notes. “We’ll be going to the college to collect Gareth. Meet us there as quickly as you can.”
Joe bobbed a bow before stomping into his boots. “I’ll just nip over to get the carriage and me boyos, and we’ll be on our way then.” Joe did make Luc smile with his practical ways and dry humor.
Luc went to untie the horses, and then Rys joined him again moments later.
“School next. I can only hope Gareth is willing to trust you enough to go with us.”
“You’re his uncle,” Luc pointed out.
“Who he has never met.”
“Well, then, I shall be convincing.” He had met Gareth on many occasions, and he thought he had a good rapport with the lad.
Eton College was a sprawling, prestigious boarding school, and they had a rigid schedule that they didn’t take kindly tobeing interrupted. Thankfully, he and Rys managed to get to the office of the headmaster before classes began, wherein Luc got to watch Rys act like the son of a marquess he was.
“I’m here to take my nephew home,” Rys told the fellow after introductions had been made, who looked somewhat sleepy in his hastily-donned attire and academic robes.
The man had a thin, bony face with high cheekbones and a long nose that he was practiced at looking down. “Are you really? Why is that?”
“Because there’s been a family emergency.”
The headmaster scoffed. “What, another one? He needs to keep to his education.”
Rys drew himself up, fire flashing in his eyes, and Luc was not ashamed to admit that the sight aroused him. Not only was this the devil himself, Rys was also every inch a lord of the Ton, whether he admitted it or not. The combination fired his blood, undeniably heady to him.
“Yes, another one, though by all rights he should still be in mourning and at home. I fear I feel no need to explain myself to you further. I am his uncle. I am here to take him. You will release him to me.”
“You are not the same uncle that I have dealings with.” The complaint came out as nearly a nasally whine. “I do not know you, my lord.”
Rys raised one coal-black eyebrow. “I assume you mean my brother, Daffyd Grey. He will no longer be involved in Gareth’s affairs. He cannot be trusted with the heir, and is, in fact, on his way to the continent.”
