Valiant (Gentlemen of the Order #3) - Adele Clee Page 0,80

and stamina. Take him. Have your groom saddle two of your fastest horses for Buchanan and me.”

“They’ll have covered more than ten miles by now.” Buchanan shook his head. “Why didna this Ashwood fellow stop them?”

Because when villains panicked, they became irrational. Ashwood would bide his time, pounce only when it was safe to do so. “Ashwood will likely wait for us to arrive before making a move. But have no fear. He’ll find a way to stall them.”

The argument dragged Vivienne from her forced slumber. She barely remembered a thing since slipping into bed and taking the sickly milk drink. Had no memory of climbing into the carriage, but recalled stumbling out onto a grass verge and casting up her accounts.

Mrs McCready had rubbed Vivienne’s back in soothing strokes, but she’d been sick until her stomach muscles hurt. Perhaps that’s why she seemed a little brighter now. Perhaps she’d vomited the wickedness she’d drunk to keep her under this witch’s spell.

“Ask your coachman. He must have a knife in his pocket.”

Vivienne’s skin slithered at the sound of Mr Ramsey’s voice. She peered beneath half-closed eyelids and watched the exchange.

“We will open the treasure chest when we stop to change the horses in Huntingdon.” Lady Hollinshead stared down her nose at the gentleman seated beside her. “Rest assured. You will be rewarded for your efforts before we leave for Boston.”

“Good. None of this would have been possible were it not for me.”

The countess sighed. “And I am grateful you brought it to my attention. It’s hard to believe Douglas’ drunken comment led us to this—abducting his own daughter.”

It took every effort to suppress a gasp. Had Mr Ramsey always known about the contract? Did his regular visits to the house stem from a desire to pester Vivienne’s mother for information?

Mr Ramsey glanced at the tea chest in his lap and snorted. “Douglas said it was a treasure worthy of a prince of Egypt. Looking at this old thing, one might think there’s nothing inside but a pauper’s pennies.”

Vivienne held back a mocking chuckle. In his drunken state, her father had revealed part of her family’s clue. Had he made an intentional mistake in saying prince instead of pauper? Had he known Mr Ramsey was a conniving devil or had he been too drunk to care?

“I think we should open it now. I’ll take my share. You should have no problem reaching Liverpool. No one will notice Miss Hart is missing until after breakfast.”

Oh, but they would. Evan would come to her chamber, eager to share his secrets. By now, he must surely know she was missing.

Then another thought struck, one that brought on a bout of nausea. What if he thought she’d abandoned him? Now the treasure amounted to nothing but a pile of old letters, he might think she had no interest in pursuing a relationship. And he would feel so dreadfully alone again.

Mrs McCready gave a discreet cough. “But the treasure belongs to the lass. I thought we were to use it to help her settle in Boston.”

“And we will,” the countess replied. “We will. But I have it on good authority the chest is full of precious gems. It won’t hurt to let Mr Ramsey have his share. After all, he’s the one who first told us about the clues and the contract.”

Which fool told the countess to expect priceless gems?

Mr Ramsey shook the chest but did not hear the rattle he expected. “They must be secured in pouches. I promised my informant a ruby for her loyalty. We wouldn’t have known the full value were it not for her probing Mr Wicks.”

Bonnie!

Had Mr Wicks told Bonnie the chest was full of gems?

This time a snort escaped her, but she passed it off as a snore.

Mrs McCready drew the blanket over Vivienne’s lap and checked her pulse. “We shouldna do anything with the box until the lass wakes. I promised her mother I’d always take care of her, and I’ll nae break an oath.”

“I promised to take care of her, too. Why do you think we’re going to all this trouble? We cannot have her marrying Mr Sloane. Lord, I’d rather push a cart around Covent Garden than let that rakehell get his hands on the treasure.” Lady Hollinshead visibly shivered. “No, I shall take control of her fortune and ensure she never wears a tatty gown again.”

“But the lass is of age and can control her own inheritance.”

“Really, Mrs McCready, for a mature woman you’re incredibly