“Aye.” He huffed for air.
“So—” The big man turned aside and spit a mouthful of blood. “Where’s the doll?”
“Don’t want it no more. The woman’s got something bigger. Better. It’s a hideous-looking bauble, all right, but melt ’er down, and it’ll bring in enough to set us up real fine, mebbe even for life.”
“I dunno, guv’ner. Oof.” Once again Scupper pressed his palm to his jaw, then tipped his head toward the big house. “Nipping a piece from a toff such as lives in that castle is a fair sight different than snatchin’ it from a skirt. Ain’t like we can jes’ waltz in there and hold out our hands fer it.”
“Din’t say we would, ye daft slab o’ meat.”
“Then what’s yer plan?”
Brudge rubbed the back of his neck, flicking away stray leaves. “Dunno yet, but I do know this. That gold statue will be mine, and somehow that woman will take the fall for it.”
7
Edmund crouched next to Jameson, trying to focus on the steward’s explanation of why and how the drainpipes needed replacing. It was conscientious of the man to include him on the mundane workings of the estate, but he didn’t care a fig about gutters and water management. Of late he was much more interested in a certain Egyptologist.
Jameson tapped the rusty pipe. “Fifty pounds ought to do her nicely.”
For a few pieces of metal? Edmund snorted. “What are you replacing it with? Gold?”
The steward shrugged. “It’s a big house, and costs have gone up.”
Edmund gave a noncommittal grunt as he rose. Sanjay could feed his entire family for a year on such an amount. Mayhap even two. And the fellow would need that and more if the tariff passed. So would many other men. The Indian Export Act the greedy members of Parliament wished to impose would harm countless natives by taxing the cost of certain goods coming from India into England, as well as by imposing new restrictions for attaining local business licenses. There were other ways of raising revenue besides hefting such a load onto the backsof those already struggling—and he’d do his best to present other options and stop this nonsense if he could land a seat in the House.
Stifling a scowl, he glanced at Jameson. “Get a few other estimates before you commit.”
The steward’s brows arched high. “Who are you, and what have you done with Edmund Price?”
Edmund chuckled. “I assure you I am one and the same, old friend.”
“The man who left here eight years ago never would have suggested I shop around.” A slow smile crept along Jameson’s lips. “You’ve changed.”
Pah! What an understatement. Absently, he rubbed the snakebite scar on the inside of his forearm. He’d have been a fool to face death and not be changed. “I suppose you could say I’ve learned a few things since then.”
Jameson cuffed him on the shoulder. “Your father would have been proud.”
“About my caution, yes, but motivation? Now, there’s where we would have differed. He was a tightfisted old duff, and well you know it. All for the sake of greed.” He huffed a long breath. His relationship with his father had been complicated at best. There had been many things to admire about his father—and even more to despise. But despite it all, he yet mourned the man’s loss even after these past ten years.
Edmund shook his head. “God forbid I ever become such a miser, and if by chance I do, you have my permission to wallop me.”
“Ho ho! We could sell tickets to that spectacle, earn a small fortune.”
No doubt, for the loose-lipped steward would spread the news from one coast to the other. “Maybe so, but for now, just see what you can do about keeping down costs.”
“Ought I and the staff be concerned about our jobs?”
Edmund chuckled. “No, nothing of the sort. I’m just a bit cash strapped at the moment, so I shall have to be more judiciouswhen paying outright for goods and services. But don’t fret, all my investments are secure. More than secure, actually. I hope to make a fortune off those relics in the banquet hall.” He tipped his head toward the mansion’s front door.
“Speaking of which...” The mirth faded from Jameson’s tone.
Edmund suspected he knew why, for the man never could abide things out of place. These past eight years, he and Mrs. Buckner had had free rein to keep the house in perfect order. All that had changed now that their master had returned.
“Allow me to guess.” Edmund eyed the man sideways. “The clutter is giving you a rash. But in less than four weeks the banquet hall will be returned to its former beauty.”
“No, it’s not that. I’m more concerned about thieves, and so I mean to increase security. I’m sure the word is already out about the priceless items inside, which is certain to attract every light finger in the area. I’ll have some armed men on patrol, particularly at night.” Carriage wheels ground on the drive, and Jameson craned his neck, peering over Edmund’s shoulder. “Are you expecting someone?”
He turned. A dusty carriage pulled by a single horse rolled toward the house. Nothing fancy. Indeed, the transport was a bit on the rickety side with the way it leaned heavily to the right. At least no hopeful debutante could be expected to step from such a nondescript coach.
