“I dint know you landed in the cream pot when I put you on that ship with naught but a letter. Thought he was some squire. It were years before some English bloke turned up all sentimental about the war. Got roaring drunk and talked about drinking with a lobsterback what turned out to be a duke. ‘Tavernash got the Glenmoor title in the end,’” he said.
“What was it to you, Isaiah? Nothing.” Gideon clamped his jaw.
“Well, now, even in South Carolina we know how dukes favor their sons. I figured he owed me for sending you on.”
“Don’t you have a business to run, Jessop?” Brynn asked, watching him with lowered lashes. “How is it you have time to languish over here?”
Jessop looked puzzled.
“A tavern?” Brynn prodded.
Jessop waved a dismissive hand. “Went bust right after Gideon left. Mary never did leave anything worthwhile for me—except this one. Gold mine, him.”
Gideon leaned across the table, fury in every line of his body. “I’m no one’s ‘gold mine’! What is it you want from me?”
“I fancy being a duke’s relative. Allowance. Fancy clothes. House in the city.”
“I’m no duke, and you’re delusional. I hire miners, not thugs,” Gideon said.
“Coal mine. Deep and black as pitch,” Brynn put in. “You’d be perfect.”
“I don’t know nothing about a mine. I went to London to see Mary’s duke. Imagine my shock when that Nancy-girl prancing around claimed to be the duke. If the old hog grubber is dead, then Gideon is duke. Even in Carolina we know that. Told him. The coxcomb had his swell butler toss me out. Took three of ’em.”
“My brother, Phillip, is the Duke of Glenmoor, and so he shall remain.”
“No. He ain’t. I figure the old windbag claimed you were his by-blow, but I know better. Have proof, I do. We can take it to whoever settles highway robbery among nobs.”
“No, you can’t.” Maddy spoke with her duchess voice, or at least in imitation of her mother the countess, as firm as she could make it. “It is done and won’t be undone.” She explained the Committee for Privileges. “They do not like to be made fools. You won’t succeed, and you may find yourself in deep trouble.”
She glanced at Gideon, begging his support. Brynn’s hand, sliding over hers, where it lay on her thigh, stiffened her courage. “So you see, Mr. Jessop, you have no recourse for your claims.” She did not mention Gideon’s son or the likelihood of an eventual dispute.
“I have proof. He married my sister. There’s a record. They’ll have to listen.” Jessop glared at Maddy and back at Gideon. It was as she had feared.Gideon needs that proof.
“Are you afraid of this committee? Too weak to claim what’s yours?” Jessop spat.
“What I do is between my brother and me,” Gideon said through gritted teeth.
“You owe me, boy. You could have been tossed in the gutter when Mary died. Could have been pressed onto a ship or indentured. Sent you on here, didn’t I? Whatever the old quiz did or didn’t do, I can tell from the looks of you, you done well for yourself. You owe me.”
“I owe you nothing, Isaiah. You think I don’t remember you claiming Mother’s tavern? Don’t recall the beating you gave me when I complained? The only thing I’ll give you is a ticket back to Charleston.”
“I ain’t going anywhere.”
“Oh, but I think you are, one way or another,” Brynn said.
“One thing, Mr. Jessop,” Maddy put in before Jessop could react to Brynn’s implied threat. “If you have Mary Jessop’s marriage lines, that record belongs to Gideon. It is for him to decide what to do with it. Kindly give it to him before he and Colonel Morgan see you on your way to a ship to the Americas. I, for one, don’t care which port it is bound for.”
Jessop snorted. “You think I’ll hand over what I have? That’s gold, and it’s mine. I don’t take orders from some English tart!”
Gideon was on his feet then, leaning across at Jessop, both hands on the table. “Hand it over, you worm!”
Brynn leapt up as well, his temper a white-hot inferno. He gritted his teeth against the rage and crossed his arms, clenching the fists he wanted to use to pummel Jessop. “Perhaps we need to let him cool his heated temper here for a spell to consider his options. Your mine. Glenmoor’s. Indentured to a sugar plantation in Nevis. Pressed into the Royal Navy. Something as simple as Nottingham jail. Transported for threatening a peer sounds right. So many possibilities. Glenmoor and Clarion may have more devious ideas.”
He leaned down to Maddy. “Your Grace, may I escort you to more congenial company?”
She rose, and he whispered in her ear, “Quickly, Maddy. He may make a break for it.”
Jessop had more panache than that. He sauntered toward the door. “I can see you are too stupid to deal with me. I’ll see what that fancy brother of Gideon’s will pay to keep me quiet.”
