Eliza didn’t realise it yet, but she now fell into that possessive, protective category. She was his and he was never going to let her go while there was still breath in his body and a sword in his hand.
Chapter Twenty-Four
“Did you think when the mighty fell, this is the shithole they might have wound up in, Tobias?”
“I suppose it has some rustic charm…” the answering voice responded but then hesitated before continuing with a cackling laugh, “but damn me if I know what it is.”
The first instinct to wash over Harold when he heard the two loud rumbles behind him was to flee. As fast and as far as his sore legs could carry him. But even he knew he had no chance against two of Mr Smith’s roughest employees. Men who could douse another man in oil and then set him alight over a debt were to be feared. Harold shivered. Instead of fleeing, he would pretend they weren’t there. Perhaps they hadn’t seen him yet?
The discussion continued. “A man could disappear out here and nary a soul would know where to look for him.”
“Unless those souls weren’t as dumb as they looked?”
“That would mean the man who was hiding out was the dumb one wouldn’t it, Jackson?”
“It would appear that way, my friend, it would appear that way indeed.”
With a groan, Harold swivelled on his stool so his back was to the bar where his umpteenth ale sat, almost empty yet again and ready for a refill. He eyed the two men, his heart in his throat when he realised just how close they were and that their gazes sat riveted on him and only him.
“Gentlemen,” he acknowledged with a nod but said no more.
Tobias spoke first. He was big and brawny and brainy. A dangerous combination. “Mr Smith gave you a date and time for repaying in full yet you failed to show your ugly face anywhere near his place of business.”
Harold still didn’t speak but then Tobias hadn’t asked a question. A thousand excuses, rehearsed over and over, along with a little begging, entered Harold’s mind but his tongue seemed weighed down as though made of lead and just would not move. Fear? Or self-preservation? If they were there to kill him, nothing would stop or slow them down.
Jackson didn’t wait for a reply anyway. “You know how much Mr Smith hates to be kept waiting.”
Finally Harold’s mouth worked for him but his squeaky tone betrayed his fear. “Is Mr Smith here?”
Both men shook their heads. “You don’t really think someone as esteemed as Mr Smith would be caught dead or alive in a place like this, do ya?” The last two words were short but they were loud.
They were beginning to draw a lot of attention.
“I told you last time, I was working on it. I can’t simply conjure funds from thin air,” Harold hissed but then regretted it as the two men came a step closer.
Tobias looked to Jackson and said, “That’s funny because that isn’t what the rodent said last time he sat at a table with Mr Smith. He said he had the magic touch and therefore couldn’t lose.”
Jackson nodded. “A rodent ’oo thinks ’imself magical. Should have known you was cracked then.” This was followed by guffaws of laughter and backslapping.
Harold didn’t even bother bristling at the insult. He was too busy trying to come up with an excuse, an explanation, some way to find just a little more time. What he would do with that time, he had no idea. He wasn’t any closer to the Penfold dowry now than he had been yesterday or the day before. In fact, he was even further away with his father still in denial about the duke’s current state of being dead. He’d threatened Harold with a beating if he brought the matter up one more time.
He wasn’t sure why his father was content to wait. It was insane. It was a death sentence.
“Mr Smith wants ’is money, ’arold.”
The way Jackson crooned his given name gave Harold shivers down his back and everywhere else. “He’ll get it, just like I said.”
“But you’re out of options, lad. That Penfold chit would as soon stab you through the ’eart with a letter opener as she would marry the likes of you.”
He should have known they’d be watching. He should have been more careful. “How do you know about Eliza?”
It was Jackson who replied to the high-pitched question. “It’s our job to know all about the men we might ’ave to kill and those around them.”
Harold gulped and looked around the now empty inn for help. The keeper and his wife had left the room, probably fled at the first raised voice, and not another soul waited around. Within minutes it was just he and the henchmen. He gulped again. “Don’t be too hasty there, my good fellows. If I turn up dead, Mr Smith will never get his money.”
Tobias shrugged. “Seems he don’t much care at this late stage. He’s had it with your whining and your excuses. It would suit his constitution much better to have you done with and out of his life for good.”
Just because they were in a public establishment didn’t
