a pistol in her dress because the next voice Nash heard was that of his father.
“I’d like for you to empty your pockets, Mr. Northgate.”
“I will not,” Northgate said. He sounded very much like he was cornered now.
“I’m afraid that was not a request,” the earl said. “Empty your pockets, sir.”
“No.”
“Clopdon,” the earl said, his tone one of weariness.
“Yes, sir.”
Pru’s hand on his tightened. She leaned closer. “Clopdon has gestured to two footmen to take hold of Mr. Northgate, and they’re searching his pockets.”
Nash could have guessed as much from the sounds of a scuffle he heard. Then Northgate swore and said, “What does it matter if I have a pistol? That doesn’t prove anything.”
“Let me see it,” the earl ordered. “Bring it to me.”
The crowd gathered around them seemed to collectively hold their breath. Nash wished them all gone. He wished the entire day over. He wanted to pull Pru close, breathe in her scent and kiss her until they were both dizzy with need. For the first time in weeks, Nash wasn’t afraid he would be violently snatched from his bed and driven to an asylum this night. He had a reprieve and, whether it was for one day or more, he knew he wanted to spend it with Pru.
“It’s been recently fired,” his father said. “The stock is still warm and there’s powder at the muzzle.”
“I fired in self-defense!” Northgate shouted, which was clearly a last desperate grasp at a defense. Everyone had heard only one shot.
“George, do shut up now.”
Nash didn’t recognize the voice, and he waited for Pru to name the speaker, but he had to nudge her to remind her.
“It’s Mrs. Northgate,” she said, her voice full of wonder. “The dowager.”
“I want to apologize for my grandson,” Mrs. Northgate said. “He is, unfortunately, too much like his mother.”
The crowd chuckled quietly, and Nash assumed the younger Mrs. Northgate was not well-liked.
“I will take him home now, if that is acceptable, my lord. Or do you wish to summon the magistrate?”
“Grandmama!” Northgate shouted.
“I told you to shut up. I will, of course, give a statement,” Mrs. Northgate said. “But if you allow me to take him home, I think a nice long trip to the Continent is in his future.”
“Take him,” the earl said. “I do not wish to see him again.”
“Yes, my lord.”
The crowd shifted and there was some jostling as, presumably, the footmen led Northgate away. Pru squeezed Nash’s hand. “I am going after them.”
“No,” Nash said. He didn’t want Pru anywhere near George Northgate.
“I want to speak to Mrs. Northgate,” she said. “I’ll be back shortly.”
And then she was gone, and Nash stood awkwardly in the center of a ring of people he did not know. He took a deep breath, tried to stand still and not fidget. Finally, a voice he did not recognize said, “Well done, Mr. Pope.”
Next came a female voice. “We always knew you weren’t dicked in the nob.”
“Er—thank you,” Nash said, realizing the villagers about him were speaking to him.
“This will be a festival we won’t soon forget,” another said.
“Lot more exciting than last year’s,” another man said.
“Excuse me,” came a voice Nash knew well. He braced for whatever his father would do next. But the earl put his arm about Nash’s shoulder and led him away, up toward the house. Nash stiffened at the unfamiliar feel of his father’s affection. It had been years since his father had draped a casual arm about him and walked with him.
When they were away from the crowd, the earl patted Nash’s back and said, “Well, that was certainly exciting.”
“I don’t know if exciting is the word I would use for it.”
“Lies, deceit, treachery—I feel almost as though I am back in London.”
“And when will you be returning?” Nash asked.
He’d expected a flash of anger from his father, but the earl slapped him on the back affectionately and laughed. “In a day or two. I came here for answers, and I suppose now I have them.”
“Do you?” Nash asked, turning to look at his father. He wished he could see more than the shadowy outline, but he would have to guess at his father’s expression.
“You are clearly not mad and you don’t belong in an asylum. Is that what you wanted to hear?”
Nash felt as though an enormous weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He slumped and let out a breath.
“I can see you are relieved,” the earl said. “I am sorry I ever caused you so much anxiety.