Abel turned his good eye to the men. “That’s just it—stap me if that curricle, with the gentleman and lady in it, wasn’t waiting further down the road to the Lizard. The bastards—beggin’ your pardon, ladies—looked to be dragging Edmond to the curricle, then one of them saw me looking, and hit me again.” He pressed the compress to the knot on his forehead. “That’s the last I remember.”
Madeline stirred. She looked at Milsom. “Milsom, please fetch some brandy for Mr. Griggs and Crimms.”
Abel inclined his head. “Thank ye kindly, ma’am.” He glanced at Gervase. “Once we came to our senses, Crimms and me, we managed to grab our horses, and thought it best we come on here to report what had happened.”
Gervase nodded. “A good thing you did.” He glanced at Crimms, who still looked exceedingly seedy, then at Madeline. “Perhaps we should go into the drawing room to confer.”
She blinked, nodded. “Yes, of course.”
“Abel—if you’re up to it, I’d like you to join us.” Gervase looked at the groom. “I suggest Crimms should lie down for a while.”
“I’ll see to it, my lord.” Milsom took charge of Crimms, leaving the footman to help Abel into the drawing room.
Changing venue gave everyone a moment to regroup. Madeline sank onto the chaise, Muriel beside her, Ben pressed tight on her other side. Harry perched on the side of the chaise, close at hand.
Her wits were still reeling, trying to fit the events into some sensible, understandable picture, but panic, thank Heaven, was effectively held at bay—by Gervase, sitting in an armchair nearby, and his three friends, who pulled up chairs and settled in a large, intent group.
Entirely focused on getting Edmond back, safe and unharmed. They and their concentration were a reassuring sight.
Dalziel looked at Abel as he eased carefully onto a straight backed chair. “The men who attacked you—were they locals?”
Abel shook his head. “Definitely not from anywheres ’round here. Not Falmouth, nor even Plymouth.” He frowned. “If I had to guess, I’d say they was Londoners.” He squinted at Dalziel. “Been some time since I’ve been there, but that’s how they sounded. Rough-and-ready customers, a bit more dangerous than the usual tavern thugs.”
The men all frowned. Gervase shifted, attracting Abel’s attention. “You said you sent word to your boys—what did you tell them?”
Abel grinned. “Told them to get the boats and come in to Castle Cove. Figured if you was truly in on this, that’s where we’d start from—easier to put in there than anywhere around here…and truth to tell, I wanted to check that it was as young Edmond said, and all was on the up and up with you. Youngsters sometimes get carried away, as well I know.”
Despite her underlying antipathy to the old reprobate—she could hardly approve of the leader of the biggest band of smugglers in the area—Madeline found herself smiling understandingly, albeit weakly.
Dalziel caught Gervase’s eye. “Your ground.”
Gervase glanced at Madeline, met her eye for a reassuring instant, then glanced at the men—his three friends and Abel Griggs. To Abel he said, “We chased a gentleman we believe to be a traitor we’ve had in our sights before, the same man we believe kidnapped Ben, back here—he would have arrived this morning, driving a curricle.”
Abel’s lined face grew grim. “A traitor, you say?”
Gervase nodded. “He was headed for Kynance Cove—”
“Kynance!” Harry looked at Ben. “You told him Kynance?”
Ben nodded. “I didn’t want him running into anyone—not you and Ed”—he looked at Abel—“or your men, either. So I sent him and his bad men to Kynance Cove.”
Abel’s eyes had grown round. “I thank you for the thought, young Ben, but…” He looked at Gervase. “Kynance ain’t exactly deserted, you know.”
Gervase nodded again, lips thin. “So our villain—it had to be he you saw in that curricle—pauses to pick up some lady. Why we don’t know, who we don’t know. Did you see anything of her—hair color, gown?”
Abel shook his head. “Had the hood of her cloak up. Couldn’t even tell if she was tall or short.”
Gervase grimaced. “Let’s leave the lady for the moment. Our man reaches the peninsula—he must have alerted his followers, somehow sent them ahead so they were on the road to Kynance. He raced down to join them, and so passed you, Crimms and Edmond.”
Gervase’s eyes narrowed. “He recognized Edmond. He already knew—or thought he knew—that his cargo was buried somewhere on the beach at Kynance Cove, but he hadn’t brought Ben back with him, because Ben was his pawn to keep us in London. But suddenly there was Edmond, who would also know where the brooch had been found.”
He glanced at the others. “Remember, he doesn’t know we’re so close behind him. He’ll imagine he has at least twenty-four if not more clear hours to find his cargo and leave the area without any real risk of being caught.”
“Edmond won’t tell him anything,” Harry said. The worry in his voice rang clearly.
Gervase met his gaze, then glanced at Madeline. “I think, when Edmond realizes the man is heading to Kynance, and thinks the cargo is there—”
“Ed’ll know I lied,” Ben piped up. He glanced at Harry. “He’ll guess—the man’s heading in the wrong direction. The man’ll take Ed to Kynance, and ask where we found the brooch.”