Page 12 of Rules for a Bastard Lord
“Are those your carriage horses?” she asked. She didn’t think she could be heard over the noise of Lord Linsel’s tirade—or Lady Linsel’s moaning—but Mr. Hallowsby must have heard her because his head shot around.
Maybelle drew the curtains back so he could see the Vikings leaving. He didn’t say anything, but Lord Linsel was really loud with his curses.
“Shut up, Dicky,” Mr. Hallowsby snapped. “Let me think.”
“Shut up? Shut up! I hired you—”
“To get you to Scotland. And I will—”
“What good is Scotland if I don’t have any money once I get there?”
“You’ve got plenty of money squirreled away in Scotland. And I’ve got your damned gold in the boot of the carriage. Hidden in a rucksack. Or I did. Don’t know if they found it.”
Maybelle’s eyebrows rose at that. Well, that was a bit of keen foresight. Apparently Lord Linsel thought so too, though it took him longer to comprehend.
“I don’t have any money in Scotland. That was all… Wait…what?”
Mr. Hallowsby snorted. “Only an idiot goes around clutching a lockbox like it was gold.”
“It was gold!”
“It was paper and pounds sterling. And it’s in a rucksack in…” No need to finish speaking. Lord Linsel bolted out the door, running to the carriage house as fast as his long legs could carry him.
Lady Linsel was on her feet as well, moving quickly after her husband, though with much more dignity. Which left Maybelle alone with Mr. Hallowsby.
“You still have to get them to Scotland,” she said.
The man nodded grimly. “And without horses.”
Well, then. This day was turning out to be the biggest windfall of all.
“As to that, sir, perhaps I could help.”
His eyes narrowed. “You have horses? A carriage?”
She grinned. “Mayhaps. For a price.”
She started laughing the moment he groaned.
Chapter Three
There’s always a bargain to be made, for good orill.
Bram saw themercenary gleam enter Bluebell’s eyes and knew they were in trouble. He could resist the wiles of a beautiful woman, but Dicky was hopeless in that area. If she suggested an easy path to Scotland, the idiot would insist on taking whatever she offered. And pay whatever she wanted.
He had to get this bargain struck now, before Dicky returned.
“Let’s have it,” he said in his coldest tone. “What are you offering and at what price?”
In the distance, he could hear Dicky and Clarissa as they made it to the barn. If he knew Jeremy—and he did—then the carriage would be damaged beyond use. And sure enough, he heard Dicky’s howl of rage.
“You need ’orses, yes?” she said. “To get to Scotland.”
He nodded, offering no more information than that. But she was a clever girl and knew exactly the predicament he’d been mulling in his mind.
“It can’t take long for the big man to shoot open that lockbox. ’E’ll see that you tricked ’im and be back quick as a wink.”
“What do you suggest?” he bit out.
