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He wouldn’t dare kick her. Nevertheless, she stumbled backward, bumping into Ian.

The clicking of a pistol hammer reverberated uncannily loud in the too-still clearing. Ian leveled his gun directly at Sir Doyle’s head. “Vangie, step behind me.”

She didn’t argue but slipped just behind his left side. She’d seen the magistrate’s shifty eyes dip to the gun across his stout lap. No doubt he was trying to decide if grabbing it was worth the risk.

“Make another disparaging remark about my wife or her kin, Doyle, and I promise you, it will be the last thing you do,” Ian said with eerie calm.

A thrill vibrated through her. He defended her people. She took a step to the side, observing him from the corner of her eye. She wanted to throw her arms around him and rain kisses across his handsome face. He sent her a knowing glance and a half-smile before returning his attention to Sir Doyle.

The color drained from the magistrate’s face just as quickly as it appeared. He glowered at Ian, his gaze flitting to the pistol then to her. Malice contorted his features, and she stepped nearer Ian again. “You wouldn’t be threatening me, would you, Warrick?”

Ian had yet to lower the pistol. “Threatening you?” He shook his dark head. “No.” He regarded the magistrate for a moment longer before aiming the pistol’s muzzle at the ground. “Let’s call it a warning. One you’d best heed.” He released the gun’s hammer, and as he tucked the pistol into the waist of his pantaloons, he shot a glance to Gerard. “Pray tell me, why are you in their company?” With a wave of his hand, he indicated Sir Doyle and his motley entourage.

Gerard dismounted. Grimacing, he stretched his bowed legs.

With a slight slant of his head, Ian indicated the other Somersfield staff should dismount too. They complied straightaway.

Removing his cap, Gerard scratched his balding head. After shoving the hat back on, he contemplated the magistrate before his attention gravitated back to Ian. “Well, my lord, we was nearly here to fetch the horseflesh like ye bid, when they come on us.” He angled his head in the direction of Sir Doyle and his henchmen. “I figured it prudent to arrive together.”

Vangie had no doubt the presence of a half-dozen armed Somersfield men gave the magistrate a moment’s pause. She smiled at Gerard, and flushing until his ears turned red, he averted his gaze.

Nodding, Ian said, “Excellent decision, Gerard.” He turned his steely eyes on Sir Doyle. “Who, exactly, has grumbled about the Roma?”

The magistrate snorted causing his jowls to jiggle. “I don’t have to reveal my sources to you.”

“No? Well, it will be difficult to bring charges, now won’t it? What are you going to do, take tales of a few missing chickens and ducks to London’s busy courts?” Ian’s mouth curved into a humorless smile. Idly flicking an imaginary speck of dust off his well-tailored coat, he eyed Sir Doyle contemptuously. “Who do you suppose the courts will believe? A magistrate, whose reputation is, shall we say, less than pristine? Or a lord of the realm, whose connections to the Home Office, the peerage, and the Crown are favored?”

Well done, Ian.

He squared his shoulders and met the magistrate’s infuriated glare directly. “I shan’t hesitate to reveal every illegal and despicable act you are rumored to be connected with if you breathe a word of this drivel in London.”

Vangie wanted to applaud.

His face bright red, Sir Doyle nearly gnashed his teeth. “It doesn’t matter leastways,” he said. “They’ve,” his gaze scanned the Roma, scathing contempt written across his face, “been here more than the allotted time. His Majesty’s edict says they must move on.”

Vangie gasped, clasping a hand to her chest. She’d never been present before when the Roma were evicted. Naturally, she’d heard tell of it, but her visits to the camp typically occurred when the travelers first arrived, not when they were forced to leave. She sought Ian’s eyes, then Puri Daj’s, who smiled in composed reassurance.

When had she joined the crowd?

Jasper climbed from the cart, and with the dignity and aplomb of a titled lord, marched to Ian. His progress was momentarily impeded when his foot sank into a fresh pile of horse manure. He shook off the offending shoe and continued onward, his gait now lopsided due to his one stockinged foot.

Vangie hid a smile. Did the man never lose his composure?

Once he stood before Ian, Jasper withdrew official-looking documents from beneath his arm.

Ian’s brow rose, and his lips twitched.

“You did say to make haste in delivering them, sir,” Jasper said with his usual formality.

Ian’s gaze strayed to the butler’s stained stocking before meeting his austere gaze. “Indeed, I did,” he offered drolly.

Vangie tried to imagine the staid Jasper driving the dog cart the entire distance from Somersfield. As if reading her mind, he winked at her. A grin teased her lips, and she winked back. Jasper was an absolute dear.

Perusing the papers, a broad smile widened Ian’s mouth.

“Get on with you.” Sir Doyle issued orders for the disbandment of the gypsy camp. “I want you vermin gone within the hour.”

The Roma scurried about in preparation.