“Don’t be cocksure, lad,” Sam warned. “Some will roll you for a penny. This is all of it?” He rested his hand on the packet.
“Every pound, shilling, and pence, plus your ruinous fee.”
Colonel Harper had been surprised Eamon wanted a cash transaction, instead of letting his man of business and Leo’s handle the sale, but he hadn’t questioned him. Eamon had left Colonel Harper gushing gratitude to Caro, the dowager, and the young duke, and turned to paying his debts.
Sam slid the package out of sight under the table, complimenting Eamon by not opening it and counting the money.
“What would ye have done if ye couldn’t have repaid me?” Sam asked with curiosity.
Eamon grinned. “First of all, I had no doubt. Second, I’d direct you to take the cash out of Clive. I gave him a thousand guineas—that was your loan plus generous donations from other friends and what I could raise myself. If you went after Clive, you could have your cut back, and more, for your trouble.”
“Pah.” Sam made a face. “He’s a pustule on the world’s backside. Why the devil did you give him a thousand pounds?”
“To purchase something worth far more than that. I’ve made my investment back, never worry.” Caro’s face this evening when she realized Eamon would return to her house with twenty-five hundred guineas was payment enough.
“Ye should have told me,” Sam growled. “I’d have done Clive over and given you whatever it was for nothing.”
“Generous of you, but I needed a legitimate sale between legitimate buyers, with paperwork and the like. A legal trail. It’s important.”
“I see.” Sam’s eyes twinkled as he raised his tankard to his lips. “I hope the lady you’ve been going on about is worth it.”
“She is, indeed,” Eamon said warmly. “I told you, I plan to save her life.”
Sam’s skepticism returned. “And she’ll reward you by marrying you? Only happens in stories, lad. Either that, or you’re stuck with a shrew and regret being such a gentleman.”
Eamon sat back, enjoying himself. “I write my own tales. They turn out how I like.”
“That arrogance will take you down in the end,” Sam said darkly. “Mark my words.”
“As I say, I’ll invite you to the wedding.”
“Kind of you, lad, but such a lady will never let me in the door.”
“She will.” Eamon was certain of it. “She has the kindest heart and loveliest face of anybody you will ever meet.”
“Has she now?” Sam gave him a frank stare. “Then why hasn’t another gent already snapped her up?”
“Many complications,” Eamon said, his enthusiasm dimming slightly. “A few more obstacles to navigate. But worth it in the end.”
“It had better be.” Sam took a noisy slurp of brandy. “Good luck to ye, is all I can say, since you won’t take my advice and run far away.”
“I won’t,” Eamon assured him. He never wanted to be further from Caro again than he was at this moment.
“In that case, I will go to your wedding,” Sam said. “See this miracle for myself.”
“You won’t regret it, Sam.”
“I already do.” Sam set down his glass and wiped his mouth. “But you’re a good lad, Stone. If anyone deserves a little happiness, it’s you. God go with you, my boy.”
Eamon left the tavern for the dark street, clapping on his hat and settling his coat. He walked toward Covent Garden, whistling cheerily.
He knew they’d waylay him in the darkness between Covent Garden and where he hoped to pick up a hackney in Long Acre. It stood to reason they’d wait until after he’d visited Sam and be off his guard, and would gamble that he had more money in his pockets than what he’d given Sam.
They’d be incorrect, though even the clothes on Eamon’s back would fetch a good price.
Eamon had his knife out, his back to the wall before they rushed him. There were three men, all with foul-smelling breath and evil in their eyes.
They didn’t bother taunting him or demanding he hand over his coin. They simply attacked.
