He shrugged. It was hard to know what a man like Cobby would do. “If he has his horse nearby, it won’t be pleasant riding without gloves.”
“Unless he steals those too.”
There was little doubt that Cobby would do whatever necessary to fulfill his own needs.
Anthony propped his hip on the desk. “So how do you suggest we trap him?”
He turned over one of the papers. “I sketched out a rough map of where he’s been. I’m not surprised he’s staying near the Thames. Fewer questions asked and no witnesses. I thought to go to one of the pubs near the one he stays in.”
Anthony just shook his head.
“You have a better plan?”
“I do. I’ll dress as you and go to one of these pubs. when he jumps me, you shoot him.”
“I cannot allow that. You already saved my life once. I will not allow you to take my place. The danger is mine to face. I’m the one who saw what Cobby did. I’m the one who planned to turn him in. I must be the one to take the risk.” Even at the mention of what Cobby had done, the images began to flash through his head.
“That may be true.” Anthony clapped him on the shoulder. “But you have something to live for now.”
Mariel. Even as he thought of her and the time they spent together in his very bedroom two days ago, all images vanished. She was the balm to his soul. He couldn’t die on her…again. Yet, it was still his responsibility to rid the world of Cobby. “That may be, but that only means I need to be more careful. I will not allow you to bait the trap.”
Anthony rubbed the back of his neck, clearly not happy with his decision. “Then I have another suggestion.”
“I’m willing to listen to all ideas.” He smirked. “Even if I reject them.” He used to tell his men that, and Anthony had heard it a few too many times.
“I know. I know.” He waved off the comment and walked around the desk to face him, setting both hands flat on the papers. “I suggest that we don’t go after Cobby and we lure him out, but we do it in town in the less dangerous areas. But instead of staying to the streets, you take the alleyways when you walk. It will lull him into thinking you gave up, plus set the trap in a better area.” He grinned. “It also allows me to disguise myself and be your shadow.”
The idea had merit. He was about to agree when Anthony straightened.
“No, it still puts you in danger. Cobby could get off a shot and run off and you’d be dead.” He grimaced. “I don’t relish the idea of telling Lady Beaumont that you’re dead.”
“You won’t have to. Cobby won’t kill me.”
“Bollocks.”
He held up his hand at Anthony’s swear. “Follow the clues.” He pointed to a spot on the paper. “Cobby first came to our attention when he spooked my horse in the village of Northampton.” He moved his finger to another spot. “But before that, don’t forget there was the broken wheel on the carriage.” He moved his finger yet again. “At Ravenridge, he came the closest. Yet again, he shot near me, not at me.”
Anthony shrugged. “So he’s a poor shot.”
“No, he isn’t. He was one of the top three best shooters I had.”
“What about that carriage mishap? You could have been killed.”
He sat in his desk chair as the new information fell into place. “No, I couldn’t have. That road is known for its rough terrain and no one with a logical mind would race down it. Our pace was forced to be slow. If we lost the wheel and the carriage had tipped, then I may have been hurt, but not killed.”
Anthony turned away, walking past the wingback chair before the desk. Finally, he stopped and turned back, one hand on the chair. “If you’re right, then what does he want with you? I doubt very much that he wishes to confess.”
He scowled. “That’s a confession I never want to hear. No. I believe he wants to make me suffer for causing him so much distress.”
“What? You causing him…? Oh, I see it now.” Anthony sunk down onto the arm of the chair. “A man like that thinks only of himself. I fear you may be right. I don’t even want to contemplate what he might think is a fitting punishment for you.”
He rubbed his thigh, his mind running in that direction. Already the images of the woman on the table in the farmhouse had him rising. “I think your plan is a good one. We will try to flush him out before Thursday. The final banns are being read tomorrow and I will need to be rid of him by wedding day.”
“I’m confident we can—”
A knock at the study door had Anthony standing.
He remained in his chair. “You may enter.”
