“He’s been shorting me from the beginning of my employment here,” Duncan said. “I’ve kept very detailed accounts. It’s a hefty sum by now.”
Mr. Haddington paled.
“I’ll have all of it in hand or will demand satisfaction from the law.” Duncan folded his arms across his chest and turned his hard, unyielding gaze on Mr. Haddington.
“I do not have such a sum in this house.” That he didn’t have to be told how significant the amount was no doubt stood as further proof to Mr. Reynolds of the truth of Duncan’s accusations. “The staff was only just paid their quarterly wages.”
“Miss Pemberton was not paid hers,” Duncan reiterated. “And I wasn’t paid all of mine.”
“I do not have money enough in this house to pay that,” Mr. Haddington repeated, an edge of pleading and desperation ringing in every word.
Duncan gave a single, firm nod. “Debtors’ prison it is.”
Mrs. Haddington descended into an almost incomprehensible flow of objections, punctuated by wails and hand-wringing. Ella and Joseph, having arrived in the entryway as well, joined in, though Duncan hadn’t the first idea if they truly knew what was happening.
Mr. Haddington stepped closer to him. “A bit of mercy, Mr. Buchanan. I beg you.”
“I will show you as much mercy as you showed Miss Pemberton.” Duncan let his eyes dart between his now-former employers. “As much as youbothshowed her.”
He paused long enough for that to land on both of them with the weight of a blacksmith’s anvil. He then turned to the squire once more.
“Tie him up. The law demands it.”
Mr. Reynolds took a step closer to Mr. Haddington.
“Surely we can come to some agreement, Mr. Buchanan.” The edge of pleading in his voice before had turned to undeniable begging. “Surely.”
Duncan watched him, unmoved.
The squire set his hand on Mr. Haddington’s arm. “This sum is significant, Mr. Haddington. Enough that you’ll have to wait until the next assizes and plead to a judge. But you’ll have to go to the debtors’ prison until then.”
“Please.” Mr. Haddington looked desperate.
Mrs. Haddington was weeping outright. The children were loudly complaining about everything from missing their daily ride to the possibility of not having all the food they wished for in the exact moment they demanded it.
“I hold your future and your family’s well-being in my hands, Haddington,” Duncan said, hard and unyielding. “Remember that should you ever acquire servants again and are tempted to mistreat them. No matter your arrogance, your wealth, your standing, you are outnumbered.”
Mr. Haddington nodded, nervousness dripping off of him.
Duncan turned to Mr. Reynolds. “I have a proposition.”
Chapter Eight
Duncan didn’t pause long enough to hand his overcoat to Mrs. Green as he made his way to the sitting room the next night. His last day as stable master at Haddington House had been as chaotic as he’d expected it to be.
If not for his concern for the stable hands, he’d have left the Haddington family high and dry the moment he’d learned of Mr. Haddington’s treatment of Sophia. Instead, he’d spent the two weeks since planning a thorough mutiny.
“Why, Duncan. This is a surprise.” Mother rose from her armchair. “We were not expecting you until tomorrow at the earliest.”
“Where is Sophia?” He’d hoped she would be here when he arrived, knowing as she did that he was returning to stay.
Mother laughed. “I would be offended if I weren’t happy to know that you’ve missed our dear houseguest.”
“Missedher? That feels like a terribly inadequate word.” The room was empty other than him and his mother. “Where is she?”
She hugged him fiercely. “She is a lovely and good and kind young lady.”
“I know all that, Mother. What I don’t know is where she is.” Had his mother taken leave of her senses?
