Jeremy made a face and Conrad Sharpe laughed. Then they heard a female giggle coming from the room next door, where Jeremy’s father was, and Jeremy’s grimace turned to a hot blush, making Conrad laugh all the harder.
Chapter 17
STILL baked from the day’s heat, the ground was warm beneath his cheek. Or perhaps he had lain in that spot for hours and his own body heat had warmed the ground, he didn’t know. These thoughts went through Nicholas’ mind when he came to and opened his eyes.
He next called himself a fool, ten kinds of a fool. Gentleman that he was, he had simply stepped out of his carriage, never dreaming he would be attacked even before his foot touched the ground.
He spat dirt out of his mouth. They had apparently left him lying where he’d fallen. Careful movement told him his hands were tied behind his back, and nearly numb besides. Famous. With sharp stabs shooting though his head, he would be lucky if he could get to his knees, let alone his feet.Ifthey had left him his carriage, he wouldn’t be able to drive it without the use of his hands. Had they left the carriage?
Twisting his head agonizingly to the side, Nicholas saw one of the carriage wheels—and a pair of boots beside it.
“You’re still here?” he asked incredulously.
“An’ where would I be goin’, mate?”
“Back to your den of thieves, I assume,” Nicholas answered.
The fellow laughed. What the devil did this mean? Wasn’t this just a common robbery, then? He thought of Malory again, but try as he might, he couldn’t conceive of the fellow hiring someone to rough him up.
“Have I been unconscious long?” Nicholas asked. His head throbbed.
“A good hour, mate, ter be sure.”
“Then would you mind telling me what the bloody hell you’re waiting for?” Nicholas growled. “Rob me and be about your business!”
Again the fellow laughed. “Did that, mate, right off. Wasn’t told I couldn’t, so I did. But me business is right ’ere, seein’ ye stay put.”
Nicholas tried to sit up, but a wave of dizziness toppled him. He cursed, trying again.
“Steady, mate. Don’t be tryin’ no tricks now, or I’ll ’ave ter let yer ’ave another taste o’ me cudgel.”
Nicholas sat up, his knees bent to support his chest. Deep breathing helped. He finally got a look at the slovenly creature. He wasn’t impressed. If he could just get to his feet, he would make short work of the fellow even with his hands tied.
“Be a good fellow and help me up, will you?”
“That’s funny, mate. Yer twice the size o’ me. I weren’t born yesterdy.”
So much for that, Nicholas thought. “What have you done with my driver?”
“Dumped ’im in an alley. Ye needn’t worry. ’E’ll wake up wi’ a ’eadache, same as ye ’ave, but he’ll be a’right.”
“Where are we?”
“I liked ye better when ye were asleep,” the footpad answered. “Too many questions.”
“You can at least tell me what we are doing here,” Nicholas asked impatiently.
“Yer sittin’ in the middle o’ the road, and I’m makin’ sure ye stay there.”
“No, what you’re doing is making me angry!” Nicholas snapped.
“That worries me, mate,” the fellow snickered, “it surely do.”
With just a little leverage and effort, he could plow his head right into the ignominious bastard’s belly, Nicholas thought. But his planning was interrupted by the sound of another carriage approaching. Since the footpad was not making haste to leave the scene, Nicholas concluded uncomfortably that the carriage was expected. What bloody next? “Friends of yours?”
The fellow shook his head. “I told ye, mate, ye ask too many questions.”
The outside lamp on the approaching carriage illuminated the area and what Nicholas saw was naggingly familiar. Hyde Park? He rode the paths there every morning and knew them as well as the grounds of Silverley. Would they dare accost him so close to his home?
