“I have a pistol and I will use it,” he said and waited to be proved right.
“No, you ain’t.”
Was it the slippery landlord? But then a new solution came to him, one that sank his spirits even further. As if to confirm his guess, Georgie leaped nimbly off Eugenie’s horse and scampered toward the two outlaws. The grin he gave Sinclair was pure mischief. “I relieved the duke of his pistol,” he informed his friends, and reaching into the pocket of his new coat, he took out the weapon and carefully handed it up to scrappy beard. “Here you go, Seth.”
Seth weighed the pistol in his hand, grinned back, and then slipped it into his own belt. Suddenly his eyes narrowed as he spied Georgie’s new clothes. “Where’d you get them boots, Georgie? You been thieving again?”
“The lady there, she got them for me,” Georgie said, looking uncomfortable. “And the clothes, too. I was that cold. She’s been kind to me. They both have,” he added in a mumble.
“Maybe you’d rather stay with them then, Georgie. What do you think of that?”
“Yeah, maybe you’d get better pickings with them, eh, little brother?”
Georgie looked from one to the other, his thin face anxious. “Course not,” he said, with an attempt at a sneer. “I want to stay with you and Seth. You’re me brothers. I wouldn’t go off and leave you, now would I?”
“We’d miss you if you did,” Seth said, and there was a threat implicit in his voice that Georgie seemed to understand.
“I said I wouldn’t.” Georgie shuffled his feet and edged away a little. When the other brother lifted a hand as if to strike him, the boy ducked, and both men laughed.
“All right then. So tell us, where’s this duke of yours keep his blunt?”
Sinclair glanced back at Eugenie, still and white-faced, shocked into silence by the revelations. He could see she felt betrayed, her kind heart broken, and he wanted to hold her in his arms. But this was not the time for maudlin sentiment, he told himself.
Their very lives were at stake.
Georgie swaggered up to Sinclair. “Where’s the blunt?” Georgie said, mimicking his brothers’ menacing growl. “We won’t hurt you if you give us your blunt.”
But there was something in the boy’s eyes, a plea to do as he was told. Georgie may have betrayed them but suddenly Sinclair knew he was as much a prisoner of circumstance as they were. Slowly Sinclair reached down and untied his bag and tossed it to the ground. Georgie ran to where it fell, opening it and rummaging through it. He held up a couple of items to show his brothers, and they greedily snatched them from him, slipping them into their pockets. The money wallet was at the bottom and he fumbled with it a moment before finally holding it up with a triumphant grin.
They grabbed that from him, too, emptying it and sharing the notes between them. Sinclair knew, with an impotent sense of rage, that the loss of his money meant he would have difficulty continuing his journey. Not everyone knew him and he could not rely upon the goodwill of those who didn’t. How would he find Annabelle now? How would he save the family honor?
“Did you really see my sister come this way?” he said harshly. “Or was that a lie, too?”
Georgie looked hurt. “ ’Course I saw her. She and the bloke and the other girl, the yellow-haired one.”
The yellow-haired one? Then Miss Gamboni was with them. Well, at least that was one piece of good news. A chaperone would help still the wagging of scandalous tongues.
“Get down off your horses.” Seth was waving his pistol, keen to regain control. “You won’t be wanting them. I reckon that thieving bastard at the tavern will give us a good price for horses like this.”
It went against the grain for Sinclair to give up his horse so easily, but once again he knew he had no choice. He jumped down and went to help Eugenie. Her hand was cold through her glove and he squeezed it in his, trying to give her courage.
“I won’t let them hurt you,” he said quietly.
Her eyes fixed on his and she managed a shaky smile. “I know you won’t. But, Sinclair, who will stop them from hurting you?”
“Hey, are you listening?” Seth blustered. “Your ring and your pocket watch, Your Dukeship.” He chuckled at his own joke.
The signet ring was a present from his mother when he’d turned eighteen, and the pocket watch had belonged to his father. Sinclair wavered. As items they were not worth much monetarily, but emotionally they meant a great deal to Sinclair.
Suddenly he knew this was the time to make a stand. He had to show these villains he wouldn’t be pushed about. No matter how foolish and reckless his knew it was, he couldn’t give up his signet ring and his watch without a fight.
Eugenie was watching him nervously.
He stepped away from her.
“No,” he said. “You can’t have them. What are you going to do about it?”
Chapter 26