“We want to unload you of your baubles.”
“I would if I had any valuables.” Anthony fumed. He had enough of this day.
East Londoners, the way they dropped theirr-r’s. A long way from home. Must be desperate to adopt new hunting grounds, except their trade must be good because the fat guy was well fed. The men clicked the flintlocks on their guns. Sixty percent odds their powder was wet and the firearms were useless.
The smaller one chortled. “By their fancy dress, Gus, I’m guessin’ they have lots of money.”
“Fool. I told you not to say my name.”
“Sorry, Gus.”
“Shut-up.” Gus motioned Anthony with his gun. “Hand ’em over.”
Anthony hedged, his head down, fumbling in his pockets for money. “Are you part of the group that tried to assassinate us earlier?” Their scarves had slipped, revealing their faces. Not the sharpest knives in the drawer. What was worse, the dolts would have to kill them since he and Rachel could now identify them.
Anthony tracked to the right, six feet down the log. In the event the highwaymen were trigger happy, and the forty percent chance the powder did work, he’d draw the fire away from Rachel. He faced Gus, looming up out of the gray gloom. His companion smiled, flashing a row of three rotten teeth.Brothers?Up close, the corpulent Gus was more ominous. Nothing like the farm boys he boxed. Those boys were immense, calm and purposeful and above all, totally in control of their brains.
Gus’s neck swiveled back and forth on powerful shoulders, the kind of shoulders that could easily lift an ox. “What do you mean…assassinate?”
“Sawing the axle on the Duke of Rutland’s carriage, precipitating the conveyance’s fall down a cliff, the intent to kill me and the lady. Hanging for attempted murder.”
Gus hopped from side to side, bending one way, bending the other. His huge feet stamped divots in the mud. The dog leaped from Rachel’s arms, charged the giant. Gus kicked her and the mutt went squealing into the woods.
Rachel started toward Gus. Anthony raised a hand to warn her down.He’s mine.
“Did you have to kick her?” she shrieked.
“The damn dog bit me,” Gus sneered. “I don’t know about any carriage.”
Anthony believed them. These two couldn’t handle a saw let alone plan cutting an apple in half. “Highway robbery is another offense, bearing severe penalties. Of course, you can only be hanged once. I’ll give you two options. Option one is agree right now to let us go, and I’ll forget about the robbery.”
Three-Tooth sneered. He was the furthest thing from Gus, convulsing with spasms. Definitely unstable. His eyes were like hot coals buried in snow and his lower lip hung down his chin as if pulled between here and London, and then snapped back. “What is option two?”
“I recommend option one.”
Both men looked at each other, and then at Anthony. “You’re a raving lunatic. But because you are so polite and entertaining, we’ll end your life quick with a bullet to the head,” said Gus.
Two against one was never a problem.Except he had Rachel to consider. Three-Toothhe’d take down first. Guslike chopping down an oak tree. Where would he start? An incoming elbow to his throat? A short left to the back of the kidney?
Rachel whispered. “They have guns.” She dipped her eyes to the log. Her reckonings on par with his.Good.
“Yeah. We have guns,” Gus said which gave Anthony a glimmer of hope because Rachel likely reminded the pair that they had guns. Hard as it was to suffer their stupidity, Anthony felt sorry for them. Unfortunately, their lack of intelligence bolstered their confidence.
“Hand over the goods. My gun hand is getting jumpy,” Gus instructed.
“Wait,” said Three-Tooth. “He hasn’t told us option two.”
Definitely hereditary. Anthony assessed the likelihood that the mother was the sister of their father. He’d bet his laboratory that the event was not random, even up the ante, by tossing in his bank account. A useless gamble, no return on his wager.
Anthony sighed. “Option twoyou don’t get hurt.”
Gus choked on his drool. Triple-Tooth snickered. Anthony sidestepped once more. Not that he wanted to get away from the stench of unwashed bodies, and rum, but wanted a clear path over the tree before he made his move.
Rachel shrieked. “I told you that we shouldn’t have gone to town today. First, I was thrown over a cliff, and now I’m robbed at gunpoint. This is all your fault. What can I expect from a half-witted, addlepated fool? Why I should tar and feather you.”
What the hell was she doing?
On and on she went, throwing all kinds of epitaphs on his person. Enough to make a sailor blushand…to distract the highwaymen. Smart girl.
