Sitting at his father’s desk, Wycliff waited for word of Johnson’s arrest. The magistrate would work quickly on behest of the bankers now that all his notes had been called.
It was a little early to be dressed in his formal black trousers for the theater, but he didn’t want anything left to chance. This day felt fluid, and he hadn’t heard Johnson’s fate. The man needed to be locked away, no longer a threat to the Croomes.
Uncle would be next to pay. It was a mistake to think these evil men would go quietly off to prison.
He heard motion at the front door. Then a knock upon his study.
“Enter.”
Lawden announced Wilkinson.
Wycliff readied his sjambok, but it was his cousin, not Uncle Soulden.
A bit of relief swept over him, but a baby viper was still a viper.
“Cousin, this is not the theater. Did you get lost?”
“You weren’t joking. They came and got him. Johnson is with the magistrate.”
“Yes. Marshalsea by nightfall. Did you think I stuttered?”
“You’re just a step ahead of us. You and I need a truce. Things have gone too far.”
Now they’d gone too far?“Your father tried to kill me. Killed my wife and Captain Steward, andnowthings are too far?”
“Well, you’re not dead. Traitors need to be dealt with, and wives are replaceable.”
That was a sad commentary. The man hadn’t loved a woman like Ruth. How terrible for Nickie’s wife and mistress. He set the sjambok down and pulled out his blunderbuss. “I hear cousins are replaceable, too. Or is that shippable, to be banished to the Navy. Stop with the pleasantries. Did Uncle refuse to come out of his hole for this evening?”
“Uncle wants to meet, but it’s too public.”
“Then there’s no meeting. Good-bye, Nickie. Do come back and describe Uncle’s expression when they come for him.”
“Adam, Father is prepared to deal.”
“I’m prepared for him to fail.” He tapped his nose. “Perhaps we should meet at Captain Steward’s grave.”
“I didn’t kill him.”
“I didn’t ask. I know that your side did. The captain had friends. I wonder how they will respond when they figure it out. I highly doubt the lumbering man here last night could rouse sailors into killing their captain.”
His cousin sputtered as Wycliff had expected. He didn’t have evidence of their hand, but Nickie didn’t know. He wanted them looking over their shoulders, fearing retribution every moment. That would keep the Croomes safe and poor Cicely, too, if he ever found her.
Their side definitely didn’t have her. She or Ruth would be the ultimate leverage.
Nicholas shifted in his seat. “Why don’t you come to him?”
“I don’t walk into traps.”
“Then let him come here. He doesn’t want this any more public. He’s worried that the same runners that took Johnson will come for him at the theater. The man was rousted out of his bed.”
Oh, so the men who’d ruined his life and his father’s were scared for theirs. Didn’t people know that if they sowed death, they’d reap it?
This was the one time Wycliff didn’t mind being thought of as a rake, a tool to make the ground fertile for judgement.
“Let my father come to you. Guarantee his safe passage.”
Wycliff tapped his desk, again fingeringNforno. “I said no. Uncle will be torn to pieces if he steps a foot over Blaren House’s threshold. I don’t stutter.”
