“But they wouldn’t have gotten the boy and, from what you have said, the boy is the one who is most important.”
“Yes, it is important that he get rid of Neddy.” She lightly rubbed her chest over her heart. “My, it hurts even to say it.”
“That it does. Sweet little boy even when he gets bossy or stubborn.”
Emily smiled. “I know. Anyway, it is vital that he remove the heir. I am just a pest. I think the man may want me dead because I tried to cause trouble for him. I know His Grace listened to me. I have no idea if that cost Albert or not because Annabel and I were already on the run.”
“Do you think the authorities are after him in England?”
“That would be lovely but we cannot know for sure. Albert could be thinking that, as a close relation to the boy, he could use whatever authorities he found here to help him get hold of the boy after he got rid of me. Once in control of Neddy he would then have the time to make certain the child’s death looks like an accident or an illness. There are too many ways that could be done.”
“There certainly are, true enough. Let us hope Iain gets the bastard.”
* * *
Iain secured his mount to the hitching post outside the tavern. A fancy name, he thought, for a place that was just like every other saloon he had ever been in. His brothers dismounted and did the same. They were not certain they would find Albert in the saloon but it was decided it was the best place to start looking. What he would do when he found the man was something he was still not sure of. It would be good to just shoot him, as Mabel had wanted to, but that would require a lot of explaining. There might not be any real law in the area but there were a few people called on regularly to settle such things and he was not on the best terms with any of them. He had never thought being a landowner could be such a contentious job.
As they walked in the girls in the saloon all perked up. Iain suspected a couple of his brothers would slip away now and then to enjoy their favors if there was no sign of Albert. He just hoped they did not all decide to entertain themselves at the same time. Instinct told him he should not allow any of them to be alone until Albert was no longer a threat.
He went to the bar, ordered a whiskey, and then turned around to survey the men gathered in the place. As he sipped his drink his gaze caught on one particular man. He was tall, well-dressed, and had blond hair. At the table sat four other men, all well-dressed, and hard-eyed. He suspected they were Albert’s handpicked guard, the one Emily had spoken of, and would bear close watching.
Now that he was here, within reach of the man, Iain had no real idea of how to go about ending the threat he was to Emily and Neddy. He had a little more understanding of how she had felt when Mabel had offered to shoot him for her. When no immediate threat was there it became too much like cold-blooded murder. He wondered if there was any way to get the man to draw on him and if he was fast enough to beat that draw.
“Wish he was facing our way,” said Matthew. “Cannae be shooting a man in the back, even a bastard like him.”
“I was just thinking the same,” replied Iain. “Got a better understanding of why Emily said no to Mabel’s kind offer.” He sipped some more whiskey as Matthew laughed.
“Maybe you could draw him into a game of cards.”
Iain looked at Duncan, who stood on his left and slowly nodded. “Could try that. Lot of men get heated over a game of cards.” He frowned. “I just dinnae think I have the gaming skills though. Never much took to gambling. Didnae have the money to test myself.”
“And we have no idea how skilled he is,” said Matthew.
“I have heard it said that the English gentry are all hardened gamblers.” Iain frowned. “Never heard whether many are good at it or not. Mostly ye just hear about the ones who gamble away all the money, put the manor house into hock, and so forth. But some must be good, aye, and with our luck, he would be one of them.”
“And a skilled duelist. Probably should have found out more about the man from Emily.”
“I think one of his men has recognized us,” whispered Nigel as he leaned across Matthew.
“Good.” Iain smiled coldly when the man turned to look at him. “Let him ken that we are onto him.”
Matthew shifted in place and set his empty glass on the bar. “I have a bad feeling about this.”
Iain stared at his brother. Matthew’s bad feelings too often proved a good warning. He wondered if Albert could be ready for them yet could not figure out how the man could be. Iain stared at the man, at the four men with him, and then at the table they sat around. He idly wondered why Albert had a bell on the table. Glancing around the saloon he saw other men tense and watch Albert, as if waiting for a signal. They were all hard-looking men, not locals. He looked back at Albert, who looked far too relaxed.
“I think we should leave,” said Iain, and he started toward the door.
He heard the sound of guns being drawn and flung himself to the floor. He watched as his brothers either did the same or dove over the bar to hide behind it. Iain drew his gun and looked for Albert as the shooting started. The man had moved to the other side of the table so he could watch the chaos he had undoubtedly arranged. He held a pistol in his hand but was not shooting at anyone. The locals had all ducked behind their tables and drawn their guns and the men working for Albert were shooting back.
Iain waved Nigel to slip behind him and then get behind the bar. As soon as his brother disappeared behind the bar, he waved at Robbie to follow. Once his brothers were safe, Iain started to edge back himself. He could see Albert had shielded himself with his table and was exchanging shots with some red-bearded man Iain had often seen around the boardinghouse. Then the man looked at him. Iain edged back some more as he watched the man aim at him but then Albert suddenly cried out and clutched his side.
Iain took the moment to stand up and start to move around to get behind the bar. Then something slammed into his head. He fell back against the bar, the pain making his head spin. Then the blackness started to roll over him and he grabbed the bar as he began to sink to his knees. He felt hands grab his arms and pull him. It took too long for him to understand that he was being yanked over the bar by his brothers.
Someone called his name and he realized he was now seated in someone’s arms. He looked up but all he saw was blood. Lifting up a shaking hand he wiped it away from his eyes and knew it was his own blood.
“Iain! Did the bullet go in? Are ye able to speak?” said Matthew, but Iain winced for it was as if his brother was yelling in his ear.
“Head hurts,” Iain muttered, then slumped, able to hear, but unable to respond.
