“Anthony will fail.” Chev surprised himself with his even tone. “You cannot leave others ‘behind.’” What did ‘behind’ even mean? “If Anthony doesn’t want beggars, he must ensure work with adequate pay.”
The goatherd stepped back. “What’s this? Are you a beggar or a bloody MP?”
“Where are you taking those goats?” Cheverley demanded.
“I don’t have to answer you.”
Chev lifted his stick and pressed it to the center of the goatherd’s chest. “Your elders are due your respect.”
Goatherd’s hostile gaze moved between Emmaus and Chev. “To Ithwick, of course,” he replied. “Anthony pays good money. Gold, if I bring enough.”
Gold. The only accepted currency among smugglers.
“I suggest you get on, then,” Cheverley said.
“I’m going.” The goatherd lifted his chin. “But only because I cannot bear your stink.” He nodded to Emmaus. “His either.”
The animals brayed as the goatherd moved them away.
“He’ll take the ocean route,” Chev said. “Let’s return to Pensteague through the woods. I think it’s time I paid my cousin a visit.”
Emmaus smiled. “I couldn’t agree more.”
~~~
Mrs. Renton groaned and folded her arms, her eyes fixed on the lawn below. Penelope looked up from her reading.
“What game are Anthony, Thomas, and their guests playing now?”
“They’ve set goats loose in the courtyard. Anthony and Thomas appear to be judging a race.”
“Goat against man?”
She glanced back. “Hard to tell the difference between the animals and the men.”
Penelope smiled. “Well, it’s a change, anyway. Those weighted disks leave crevices in the earth. I’ve nearly tripped a dozen times.”
“And just what do you think those goats are leaving behind?”
Pen snorted. “We’ve a competent gamekeeper, remember? Emmaus will round up the goats when he comes.”
Mrs. Renton frowned. “Do you trust that man?”
“With my life.” Penelope set aside her book. “He was one of Cheverley’s crew. He went with the privateer they captured, and if it was not for him, I’d know little about Lord Cheverley’s last hours.” She’d only wished she’d met Emmaus sooner than at the recent trial.
“But how do youknowhe sailed with Lord Cheverley?”
“Really, Mrs. Renton. Emmaus accurately described the buttons on a shirt I had given Cheverley before he went to war.”
“I apologize.” Mrs. Renton sighed. “These days I just do not know who I can—” She stopped abruptly, leaning toward the window. “What is Anthony about, now?”
Penelope went to the window.
Thaddeus, arms crossed, had arrived at the edge of the courtyard. Anthony and Thomas were motioning to have him join the revelers. Still scowling, Thaddeus joined the fray to raucous applause.
“Thaddeus took charge last night,” Penelope said. “They’ve changed tactics and are trying to placate him.”
“I don’t like it,” Mrs. Renton breathed.
