I may be a bad ‘un, but I’m not stupid. Your father will get you back, and you, Miss Golightly, will return to your lordling—if they behave themselves.” He waited, smiling for us to give him our full attention. The gloating expression he wore indicated how much he relished the impact he’d made.

I refused to let my face show any of the turmoil I felt. Tom was still recovering from that brutal blow. Cawnton continued. “There’s a run on Friday, a big one. We need all our local hands for it.” He nodded at Tom. “Your father will allow us to run our goods through his land this time.”

“Never!” Tom gasped.

His brave, pointless words exasperated me. “Oh don’t be silly, Tom. Your father will want you back. Cawnton has the right of it. Just listen.”

I heard Cawnton’s whistle. “Sensible.”

I turned back to him. “I don’t believe in the romantic notions of villains. What about me?”

“Your little lord caused us some problems a while back, and we’ve heard he’s been asking questions.”

“He takes an interest in local affairs,” I replied, trying to be cool.

“He does, doesn’t he?” Cawnton said. “To be honest, Rose—I can call you Rose? I’ve always wanted to hobnob with the gentry.”

“Call me what you like.” I refused to be riled by him.

“All right then—Rose. I didn’t really want you taken. Your Lord Strang has somebody in his employ I wouldn’t particularly like to cross swords with.”

“Thompson.” I remembered the note in Richard’s pocket that day, and felt relieved that, as Richard had hoped, Cawnton assumed Carier ran Thompson’s. Tom stared at me, surprised, but I ignored him.

“He told you, then?” Cawnton said. “Yes, Thompson. He says he’s only here for your wedding, but I’m not so sure. He’s a thief-taker, and we don’t like them here. So, since we’ve got you, we’ll ask your pretty lord to see he does nothing else while he’s here. Then we can get on with our run, and you can get on with your wedding, and nobody’s put to any more trouble.”

At least Richard would be told I was here, wherever here was. Cawnton gestured at one of his men who came over to us. First he felt for Tom’s fob, and he pulled that off, then he took my hand and slid off my ring, that gorgeous ruby I had worn for such a little time.

Cawnton whistled. “It would be almost worth killing you for this.” He held the stone up to the candle to watch its glitter. “I’m no expert on stones, but I’d say this could buy a run or two. He gave you this?” I nodded. “Well, I’ll take it to him to prove you’re alive, but I might choose to keep it for myself. It’s a bonny stone.” He put the fob and the ring away in his pocket. “I’ve got to show people you can’t cross me, otherwise my authority won’t be worth an icicle in summer. You understand?” We both nodded this time. “But I’m not an unfeeling man. I’m thinking about releasing you from your ropes, but you’ve got to understand first it’s no use you fighting and shouting. If I don’t release you, it could damage you, and I never deliver damaged goods. My bargains are always straight.” His two acolytes murmured agreement.

“There’s a man outside this door, armed, and if he has to, he’ll stop you. He won’t come in for any reason at all, not until I get back. You’re in a place where noise doesn’t matter. Nobody will hear you. You can’t get out of here. If I release you, you will wait, or you’ll be trussed up like chickens, harder this time and you might end up with useless fingers and toes. Understand?” He glared at us. We both nodded. We couldn’t do anything else.

Cawnton held up his hand and waved to the man behind him, his attention still on us. The man came forward, and drew a large knife out of his pocket. He cut our bonds, starting with mine.

Pain shot up my arms as the blood coursed freely through my veins again, and despite my good intentions, my face contorted. I saw Tom, his head down, holding his wrists, and then I heard the furniture being moved and saw they were leaving the room. My little fruit knife seemed like a futile gesture when I saw the man at the door, a flintlock in each hand, and two more stuck in his belt.

A man came in once, and put some things on the floor, and then the door closed and we were left in near darkness.

Chapter Eighteen

They left us a pottery chamber pot, a loaf of bread, a pitcher of small beer and some blankets, remarkably clean ones smelling of lavender. I wondered why they should fritter such luxuries on us, but perhaps Cawnton meant it when he said he was a straight dealer. I was glad of the chamber pot, and Tom turned his back like a gentleman and let me go first. I could have done with some water to wash with as well.

At least I had a comb. I found my little necessaire and emptied it. Together Tom and I examined the little silver fruit knife and agreed I should take charge of it in case they searched him once more. I put it at the top of my stocking, under my garter, where it would be easier to get hold of should they tie us up again. There was also a mirror, a comb, a needle, thread, and my keys.

For something to do,