“No, I’ll probably eat a light lunch.”
Matt smiled. “I forgot that sophisticated people call supper ‘dinner.’”
“Is that what you think I am, Mr. Jensen? Sophisticated?”
“Well, yes, ma’am, being as you are English and famous and all,” Matt said.
“Evidently I’m not the only famous one in this conversation,” Lilly said. “You seemed surprised that I knew your name. But after your—shall we call it deadly encounter? You are the person everyone is talking about this morning.”
“I’m sorry about that,” Matt said.
“You shouldn’t be sorry you killed him. From what everyone is saying, you had no choice. It was either him or you.”
“I’m not sorry I killed him, I’m just sorry that it has become the talk of the town.”
“I’m also told, however, that the name Matt Jensen is not just known here in Sussex but quite well known, not only in the West, but throughout the country. You are that Matt Jensen, are you not?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Oh for heaven’s sake, Mr. Jensen, quit calling me ma’am. You make me feel like an old spinster.”
“Sorry, Ma’—that is, Miss Langtry. I’m just trying to be polite, is all.”
“I think calling me Lily would be very polite.”
“All right, Lily it is, then,” Matt said.
“Matt, if I may ask, what are you doing in Sussex? This seems like a small and very out-of-the-way town, even for the far West.”
“I’m here because I received a letter from Moreton Frewen, asking me to come.”
“My,” Lily said. “I am impressed that Moreton could crook his finger and bring someone like you to do his bidding.”
“He did a bit more than crook his finger,” Matt said.
“What did he do?”
“He included a bank draft for five thousand dollars,” Matt said.
“Oh, dear. Moreton spends so freely, and the bad thing is, the money he spends isn’t his own.”
“Not his own money?”
“Well, I suppose it is, in a way. At least, he has control of it. You see, Moreton is very good about getting others to invest in his ideas. He has long had the idea of coming to America and building a huge cattle ranch, an empire, really. The Powder River Cattle Company is the fruition of that idea, and though ostensibly he is the owner, there are so many people invested in the ranch that I fear he is little more than a figurehead. And since his ranch is losing money so badly, I’m not sure how much longer he will be able to hang on.”
“I understand that the cattle rustling is very bad here. If you lose too many cows to rustlers, it is hard to turn a profit,” Matt said.
“I suppose that is true, but Sir William doesn’t seem to be losing money as badly as poor Moreton. In fact, Sir William has offered to buy Moreton’s ranch.”
“Sir William?”
“That would be William Teasdale,” Lily said.
“Like Moreton, Sir William is a subject of the Crown. And like Moreton, he has the dream of establishing a cattle empire in the American West. Unlike Moreton, however, Sir William seems to be succeeding.”
Chapter Eleven
Out at Thistledown Ranch, William Teasdale, the subject of Lily Langtry’s discussion, was in the ranch office, talking to Reed.
“I thought Kyle Houston was supposed to be the best money could buy,” Teasdale said.
“He is damn good,” Reed said. “The best I ever saw.” Reed scratched at his brown beard, pulled something out, examined it on the end of his finger, then flicked it away.
“You mean he
“Yes, sir, I reckon he is. So, what are we goin’ to do about this Jensen fella now?”
Teasdale knew that he wouldn’t be able to carry off his cattle rustling—though he preferred to call it his ranch enlargement—scheme unless he had the support of his foreman. He had left it up to Reed to hire the cowboys, men he could trust, men who knew of the arrangement Teasdale had with Sam Logan and the Yellow Kerchief Gang.
“For the time being, we will just play defensive chess.”
“Say what?”
“We will monitor, closely, the moves made by Frewen and Mr. Jensen,” Teasdale said.
News of the gunfight between Matt Jensen and Kyle Houston had reached Frewen Castle almost as quickly as it reached Thistledown.
