and he hurried forward as fast as his hobbled ankles allowed. “Matthew! There’s been some terrible mistake—a misunderstanding—”
“Silence!”
Even Godfrey jumped. Glancing at Ellie’s, Harry’s, and Maggie’s wide eyes, he surmised that Matthew Hinckley rarely roared.
Masterton reacted as if he’d been struck. His face blanked and paled, and he halted.
Mr. Hinckley continued in a more restrained but equally awful tone, “To me, sir, you are lower than the low—less than nothing. You forfeited my regard—every last scrap—when you ordered Jeffers to shoot my daughter and Lord Godfrey. You will sit”—Mr. Hinckley jabbed a finger at the hard chair—“and hold your forked tongue and listen to what we have to say to you. You will not speak unless invited to. Is that clear?”
Masterton hesitated, then mutely nodded and, when Mr. Hinckley pointed again at the chair, moved to it and sat. Masterton’s wide-eyed gaze stated clearly that he’d never before encountered or even imagined this side of Mr. Hinckley.
Mr. Hinckley signaled to Kemp and the footmen to remain, and they took up positions near the door.
Satisfied, Mr. Hinckley glanced at Godfrey. “Lord Godfrey, if you would?”
Deeming his hopefully soon-to-be father-in-law’s tack an excellent one, Godfrey remained seated and turned fractionally, transparently remaining at his elegant ease as he caught Masterton’s eyes. “The Hinckleys have concluded that there is no place for you within their family or wider British society.” Godfrey glanced at Jeffers, then returned his gaze to Masterton. “You have burned every bridge you ever had. You owe substantial debts you are unable to pay to Jeffers and Thornton, and even more to the Hinckleys themselves. If the firm and the family wished, they could have you clapped in Newgate, quickly and without any fuss, and left there to rot, for as we all now know, you have no capacity whatever to pay the debts you have already incurred.”
Godfrey paused to let the threat of Newgate sink in, then went on, “You should be under no illusion that isn’t an option strongly favored, and it will be the family’s fallback should you fail to agree to their alternative proposal.”
Slowly, Masterton blinked, then his gaze focused more intently on Godfrey. “What proposal?”
And there it was; Masterton was already revising his plan.
“The alternative the family have agreed to offer you is banishment.”
Masterton blinked again. “But—”
“Under this proposal,” Godfrey continued, “you will be taken to Hull, provided with a ticket to Rotterdam, and seen onto the ferry. From Rotterdam, you may go wherever you please with the single proviso that you are never to set foot on British soil again. Should you attempt to do so, you will be taken up by the authorities and conveyed directly to Newgate.” He held Masterton’s gaze and smiled coldly. “My family are more than powerful enough to ensure that outcome, and once in Newgate, for you, there will be no escape.”
Masterton’s face was a study of a man thinking rapidly; calculation invested every line.
No one was surprised when he raised his head, looked at Mr. Hinckley, then transferred his gaze to Godfrey and said, “You’ll need to provide me with some funds. You can’t just”—he gestured with his hands, still bound by the cloth—“toss me penniless onto the Rotterdam docks.”
Godfrey smiled even more chillingly. “I assure you we can. There will be no funds, not from the Hinckleys or anyone else. More, you will have only the clothes on your back. You will not be allowed to stop by your lodgings, nor will you be allowed to take your horse or tack on board. You will leave England with nothing but the clothes you stand in and your wits.”
Masterton’s face had gradually blanked as the reality of what he was being offered sank in.
“Should you agree to these terms,” Godfrey continued imperturbably, “you will spend the night in your current quarters beside the scullery. Tomorrow at first light, you will be escorted under guard to Hull, a ticket will be purchased for you, and you will be seen onto the ferry.”
Godfrey paused. Until that moment, he hadn’t remembered the one element of Masterton’s plan that they hadn’t been able to deduce. Godfrey glanced at Mr. Hinckley, then at Harry and Maggie, and hoped they would remain as silent yet disapprovingly accusative as they had thus far. “However,” he went on, returning his gaze to Masterton and infusing as much of Ryder’s brand of aloof intimidation into his tone as he could, “even that much consideration—banishment rather than Newgate—is conditional on you explaining to the family’s satisfaction what