been in this position before.'
'If you have, that was in London. In a part of London where people know better than to be curious,' he said, coldly. 'And you must have dealt with someone who was a nonentity. This is a tiny village, where everyone knows everyone else's business. And this is Captain Reginald Fenyx, baron. Have a care, Alison. This is dangerous.'
She took a deep breath and held it to prevent herself from snapping at him. He was right. She needed his help.
The trouble was, it was going to cost her. Men like Warrick Locke could wait decades for an opportunity to get their hooks set in a target—and once they did, it was impossible to shake them off.
'So what do you suggest?' she asked, with feigned meekness.
'After dark, I pull Reggie's motor around to the old stable. You bundle him up in a blanket and bring him out; I'll put him in the passenger's side and wear his coat, goggles and cap myself. Don't try to hide him, I want people to see that there is someone with the driver, though not who. I'll take him straight to the Hoar Stones, leave him there, and drive his motor back along the route you'll be coming, where I'll abandon it in a ditch.' Locke's eyes glittered as he spoke; there was no mistake, he enjoyed the part he was now playing, and he was going to get his pound of flesh out of it. 'You'll bring the girl along and pick me up. We'll all go back to the Hoar Stones, drop the girl down the mineshaft either before you do your work with Reggie, or afterwards, depending on how things work out.
She had to admit, it was a brilliant plan. 'Do we leave him with the motor?' she asked, reluctantly. She really didn't want him out of her sight, but—
'Yes, but we'll drive to that coaching-inn we stayed at, and one of us will go rushing in there to report the accident,' Locke replied. 'While people are milling about, we'll slip away, and there will be no connection between us and his condition. And as for Eleanor, she figures into the plan, too. We'll leave Eleanor's old coat, and perhaps a bundle of belongings in his auto, and once he's identified, no doubt someone will come around to ask why he was here. We'll say we never saw him, then identify the coat and the clothing. That will give us the excuse to send a search-party back in that area to look for her, once you're sure she's gone quite mad! Everyone will assume she eloped with him, or he persuaded her to go away with him, and without a doubt, everyone will assume the worst of her.'
She ground her teeth, but smiled at him. Damn the man. It was a good plan, making the best possible use of all of the disasters that fate had thrown at them. 'It will work,' she conceded.
'It will do more than merely work,' Locke said, raising his chin arrogantly. 'It's the way to guarantee that one of your girls marries the boy. Don't you see? If Lady Devlin thinks that he and Eleanor were off together, unchaperoned, perhaps on their way to a wedding at the worst, or a clandestine liaison at the best, she'll be terrified that
He was right, curse him. Well, of course he was right. He was used to thinking in terms of blackmail. She hadn't much practice in that particular 'art.' She had always dealt with her enemies in much more direct ways—and with those from whom she wanted favors, by means much more arcane.
'What about me?' Carolyn mewed plaintively. 'If Reggie's going to marry Lauralee, what about me?'
At that moment, Alison caught a glimpse of something avid in Locke's eyes, and knew what he was going to demand as
'Oh, you'll have your wedding, too, Carolyn,' she replied, with a little nod to Locke. 'Just as splendid as Lauralee's. I'll see to that.'
And she would see to it that the girl found Locke acceptable, too. After all, it was a great deal easier to put a death-curse on a man whose wife would do anything her mother said.
Because the clever Warrick Locke was getting too clever. And Alison Robinson had not gotten where she was now by allowing anyone to have a hold over her.
