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“What is going on?” Emmie demanded, once he’d pulled her half the length of the hallway. “Clearly it’s nothing good.”
Will kept a hard grip on her hand. “I informed James that if he didn’t leave we would send for the constabulary, at which time he said he would remain here, in the house, and that we’re to pay him twenty quid a day—I presume for his continued silence—and we’re to allow our valuables to be pilfered as he sees fit. If we don’t do that, or if we attempt to have him arrested, he will inform the constabulary, and all and sundry, that we’ve been lying to Welshire about having children. And that we kidnapped them from St. Stephen’s.”
Emmie stared at him. “I think I may faint,” she announced.
“Please don’t. If you do, I will run screaming through the fields until someone bundles me up and takes me to Bedlam.”
The vision that conjured, and how out-of-character it would be for him, actually bolstered her a little. “With neither of us here, the children will sell Winnover to the Hendersens and use the proceeds to become pirates.”
Will chuckled. “The fact remains, we are in trouble, Emmie. We can’t force James to leave now without jeopardizing Winnover. Or the children, as I happen to think that a man who throws a boy into a pond—knowing he can’t swim—just because he lost his temper, shouldn’t be trusted with the care of either of them.” He made a disgusted sound. “At least he doesn’t want them going with him after he’s taken everything we own. He said they can go back to St. Stephen’s for all he cares.”
“Just when I’d begun to think we had this figured out,” she muttered, leaning back against the wall. “Even if we could have him arrested, the children would never trust us again. He is their family, however horrible he is to them.”
“George and Rose are quite a bit smarter than he gives them credit for. They were happy enough at the idea of him being gone.”
“‘Gone’ is not the same as being imprisoned. Or hanged. You can’t think they would side with us,” Emmie countered, wishing that were so. She tugged her hand free of his. “What a mess I’ve made of your life. I’m so sorry, Will.”
Will placed his palms flat on the wall on either side of her shoulders. “Our getting married was not a mess, Em. You may have surprised me, but I have yet to do anything against my will. And you surprised me again with the information that we have two children, but I’m still here. And I intend to remain.”
Oh. “Will,” she murmured, holding his gaze. “Thank you for saying that.”
He leaned down, catching her mouth with his. Heat twined down her spine. If she hadn’t taken advantage of him, used him, then the fact that he’d agreed to marry her, and the fact that he’d agreed to this mad scheme in which they were presently embroiled, meant something important.
Sliding her arms around his shoulders, she kissed him back. Will Pershing was not that same twenty-year-old boy whose will she could bend with a smile. Goodness. That realization was… arousing.
It was also distracting. Their houseguest who insisted on remaining their houseguest was robbing them, and meant to continue to do so. “Will,” she murmured. “We can’t allow that boy to chisel away at Winnover and then yank it out from under us out of spite.”
“Then what are you going to do about him?” George asked from a few feet away.
Emmie ducked under Will’s arm. It wasn’t wrong to be caught in her own husband’s embrace. It was just… unexpected. “For the moment I think we have to do as he asks. You may not think well of us at times, but we do wish to avoid hurting you and Rose.”
George folded his arms, half defiant and half little boy. “What did he ask, then? That you treat us good?”
“He asked that we give him twenty pounds a day,” Will took up, “that we allow him to remain in the house, and that we give him free rein to take whatever he wishes from here.”
“Are we still going to the duke’s party?”
“He wants to go with us.” Will clenched his jaw. “His Grace has a great many valuable things in his home.”
Rose walked up behind her brother. “Why didn’t he go away?”
“If we send for the law, he means to tell everyone how we’ve broken the duke’s agreement. I’m sorry, Rose. We could have him arrested, but that wouldn’t help any of us. And it would lose us Winnover.”
“He shouldn’t get to win,” George declared. “I heard what you said, that he don’t want us with him when he’s finished here. He lied. Again. About everything. He turns everything bad. Even our mama said so.”
“He is your family,” Emmie said, then wondered if she shouldn’t have kept her mouth shut. The bully had nearly drowned George.
“He seemed fairly certain Bow Street doesn’t care that he’s still a fugitive,” Will said. “But if we could see him arrested, that’s… It’s serious. He might never go free again.”
“That’s a lie about Bow Street,” George cut in. “He’s terrified of ’em. And Newgate. He got nicked once, when one of his friends turned conk for the beaks. They put him in a court, and a pettifogger agreed to get him out—but only if James would turn conk himself. He said no, and they put him in the real stone jug with a view of the drop until he changed his mind. As soon as they let him out, he ran for it. We didn’t see him for a year, until he got word that the limb of the law got himself arrested and transported for running his own ring of fingersmiths. In fact, I reckon that’s what he’s trying to do to us now, make us his kiddies, who have to do what he says.”
That… was a great deal to decipher. Emmie glanced at Will. “Did you catch that?”
“I think so. It meshes with what Bernard wrote me about. Bow Street arrested James when one of their informers pointed him out, and they sat him down with a solicitor who agreed to get him out from under his charges if he would also become an informant. When he refused, they imprisoned him in Newgate with a view of the gallows until he changed his mind, and when they released him to inform on his fellows he fled, only returning to London when he learned that the solicitor was found guilty of running his own thievery ring and sent to Australia. Is that correct, George?”
“That’s what I said. You said I could slang today.”
“So I did.”