“That was not so hard now, was it, Gilly?” Tristan asked, wiping his bloody knuckles clean.
From the floor, the beaten man, who they now knew as Gilly, glared up at Tristan and the others as he covered his bleeding nose.
It had been twenty-seven hours since Tristan had set out alone to look for Abraham. He’d barged into every seedy gaming hell on Bow Street searching for him; nearly getting himself killed more than once. It was only by luck that his friends sensed that he would not rest until Ophelia was found, and it was in his darkest hour that they had burst into the last place and spared him the beating of his life.
After berating Tristan for a good half-hour for taking on such work alone, Alistair, Everett, Dominic, and Hugo, continued the search together; finally finding a flaw in Abraham’s plan. He’d sent a messenger to deliver the transfer papers- and wouldhence require a messenger to pick them up and deliver them to him.
So the five of them returned to Tristan’s home, and it was not long before such a messenger- Gilly- arrived. They had approached Gilly cordially at first, hoping to get answers the proper way. Though after an hour of practicality, Tristan accepted the proper way would not work, so they chose a more destructive method. It took two more hours filled with cries of pain and brutal fists, but Gilly finally gave way.
They discovered that he worked as one of Abraham’s lackeys and had quite the bit of information to share about his employer. Somehow Abraham had access to Boyle’s funds- a connection that Tristan was not sure what to make of- and that through Boyle’s accounts a recent purchase of a Cookham estate was made. Gilly was supposed to deliver the transfer papers there, and according to him. What Tristan found odd about that, however, was that there was no scheduled delivery to come back to him; inferring that Abraham no plans to return Ophelia once the deal was done.
“Do not look at me like that,” Tristan warned, tossing a rag toward the man, “This could have all been avoided if you would have been truthful in the first place.”
“You nobles,” Gilly said, sounding funny through his broken nose, “You are supposed to be such fine and dandy gentlemen. But you are worse than us poor folk with your violence.”
“Perhaps that is a lesson you should remember,” Dominic spoke up, “Noble or peasant, a man in love is not to be meddled with.”
Tristan felt a spark travel through his veins at Dominic’s words, but he did not argue. His friend was right- he was in love, and willing to do anything to get Ophelia back.
“However wearegentlemen,” Everett piped up, pulling out his billfold, “So we will pay the inconvenience you cost us.”
The man snatched the wad of bills from Everett’s hands as he cleaned his nose with the other.
“Now get up,” Alistair commanded, hauling the man to his feet by his shoulder. “We need to get going.”
“We?!” The man exclaimed.
“We need to make certain you are not lying to us,” Hugo answered, his voice laced with a hostile tone. “You are going to take us to Lord Weavington yourself.”
The man’s eyes went wide as he shook his head.
“No,” he rasped.
“No?” Tristan snarled.
“You all beat me,” the man replied, starting to hyperventilate, “But you do not know Lord Weavington as I do. He will kill me if I do that.”
To Tristan’s surprise, he felt a sudden bout of pity for the man before him. If straits were not so dire, if Ophelia had been left out of this and all Abraham threatened was their business, he’d probably let the messenger go and bear the aggravation of possibly being misled.
Ophelia hadnotbeen left out of Abraham’s plan, though, so Tristan pushed past his pity and dragged the man toward the stables.
“We will not let him kill you,” Tristan stated as they approached the saddled horse, “But youarecoming with us.”
“He will never let you in!” The man protested as Alistair chucked him atop a horse. “The estate in Cookham is small but gated. He has guards!”
“Aye,” Alistair growled, swinging up onto his own saddle as Tristan and the others did the same, “As do we. And the Constable. All of which will be following right behind us.”
“Everett,” Tristan said, turning to his friend.
Everett nodded, and took off on his own horse to gather the reinforcements.
Tristan then tethered the man’s horse to his own, ensuring that he would not try to ride off on his own, and they all took off toward Abraham’s hidden estate in Cookham.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
“You wretch!” Abraham snarled, pulling the pen from his neck.
Ophelia wasted no time. She ducked under the arm he swung toward her and gathered the papers. She was able to make it the few steps to the fireplace and chuck them into the flames before she was suddenly hauled backwards; the weight of her heavy necklace causing her to crash harder into the floor.
