ismenin | A Regency Tale

Hello there! It is cloudy here today, but my heart is happy! That's what counts. :D

AND I could not choose a name for the boat out of your kind offerings. I had it down to three, when, in despair, I gave the list to my son and just told him to choose a name for a yacht from the list, not knowing who had chosen them. He did, and chose Sirona - the Celtic goddess of health. So that is sorted. Thank you so much for your thoughts on this - when I want a name for something else, I know where to come! Enjoy!xxx

Thanks, as always, to Lady Sunrope for he beta and input!

Part 29 - Confrontations

Dom hurried downstairs again, leaving Elijah sleeping fast. He was very anxious to question Harry Warbois to see if there was anyone else involved in the plot. However, before he reached the parlour where Warbois was held, he met Bert Slugger coming out of the kitchen, carrying a mug of ale and a large plate of bread and cheese.

"Ah! There you is, me Lord. I'm off to my bed, now. I've 'ad an 'ard day of it, and I'm ready for a bit of shut-eye."

Dom looked at the food on the plate and remarked, "Panam and cash, if I'm not mistaken. Where is his Lordship being held?"

Bert stared shrewdly at him. "Panam...aye, I knew yer for a soljer, I did. Can look after yerself in a fight, I've no doubt.
Yer man 'as taken 'im darn to the secrit cellar. This is a smugglin' ken, I'll 'ave yer know, and I knows all the tricks these places 'ave for a-hidin' of their ill-gotten goods. 'E'll be safe enough wiv Morlock, m'Lord. A good man yer've got there, that's fer sure."

Dom nodded, absently, his mind on other things. "He is the best of good fellows. What time will he be relieved of his watch, Bert? I think I have your measure, now, damn you for a secretive bastard!"

Bert grinned and bit into a large chunk of cheese. "Ho! Yer 'ave, 'ave yer? 'Ow did this come abaht, then?"

"I saw your Occurrence Book when you dropped it in the parlour. Which is the way to the cellars?"

Bert pointed the direction with his cheese. "You is a leery cove, I'll give yer that. One of me boys will relieve 'im at two. He must be watched careful, so there'll be no tired men a-guarding of 'im froo the night. Two 'our shifts, turn an' turn abaht, is best fer the likes of 'im. 'E's dahn there - Morlock said 'e'd leave the trapdoor open for yer. 'E was sure as you'd want ter...interrergate.. the pris'ner."

"I do, indeed," Dom answered grimly, his hands forming two very purposeful fists at the thought of it.

Bert saw them, and grinned, saying around another mouthful of cheese, "interrergate 'im well, yer Lordship. I fair compassionate that lad - yer lickle dook - I does. 'E's as game a pebble as yer'll find anywheres. Give it good to the bastard wot tried to waste 'im is wot I says - mind yer, yer didn't 'ear me say that, yer understands?"

Dom nodded briskly. "Mum as an oyster - thank you, Bert!"

Bert took a long swig of his ale. "I'll talk wiv yer all in the mornin'. I'm not a young sprig like you is, an' I needs me rest. Tomorrer it'll be. 'Night, sir."

Dom replied, then strode purposefully down the passage to the trapdoor. It was a little before twelve thirty by the big clock in the hallway, so he needed to act swiftly. He had decided what he must do, and would not be swayed from his purpose. He intended to beat Warbois to within an inch of his worthless life, and then challenge him to a duel. If there was an honourable way out of this, he would take it. He had had killing enough in the war, but this...this was different.

He would not sink to Harry's depths and kill a man in cold blood. There was no other way than to instigate a duel - but for Elijah's sake, it must be done. There was no safety for his Lij, else. That there might be little safety in his plan for himself, either, Dom had not considered.

He climbed down the ladder and, pulling the trapdoor closed, carefully looked about him. It was an old root cellar with a compacted dirt floor. There were still a few sacks of potatoes and other vegetables there, and Harry sat on the floor, against the stone wall, his hands still tied, his walking cane propped against the opposite wall, his cloak with it. The miscreant was watched over by Morlock, who was perched on a stool, a large pistol resting negligently on his lap.

Dom noticed Harry sported a black eye, and glancing at his man, remarked trenchantly, "resisted being brought down, did he?"

Morlock gave a dry laugh. "Aye, m'Lord, he did. But Bert's man who came with me, thumped him a good 'un as you see. I didn't venture to do so - I knew you would wish to do that for yourself"

Dom turned his full attention to the prisoner, who was watching him with a wary eye. "I do wish it. Oh, you need not worry, Warbois - I have not sunk as low as to beat a bound man. If I did not do it to the French spies I encountered in Spain, I'll be damned if I'll do it to you. But thrash you I will."

Warbois seemed to be amused by the prospect. "You are accounted very handy with your fives, Monaghan, so I hear - but I am no mean exponent of the noble art, either. Still you are welcome to try to best me - if you dare."

Dom grew pale. "If I dare, you bastard? You attempt, on several occasions, to put a period to the gentlest, kindest soul in Christendom, and say I dare to bring you to account for it?"

Harry shrugged. "It was either him, or me. He has a vast fortune at his disposal, and not once, since he came into his estates, did he ask me - above the allowance I was made as his heir, mind you - if I had so much as a feather to fly with."

"I have always had a soft spot for Lij, he is a tender-hearted man, I'll give you - but I needed the money and this was the only way I could get it. I was in Dun Territory and as close to swallowing a spider as a man can be. It was him or me - I chose him."

He cast a speculative eye at Dom. "I daresay he's been happy since he's had you to bugger him into next week; but he always was a lonely little chap - I expect he fell for the first adventurer who had the nous to make up to him."

Morlock began to protest, but Dom silenced him with a gesture. "Let him go his length, man. He will soon be silenced. After I have given you a few more bruises to think about, I am going to challenge you to a duel, you lily-livered excuse for a man. See what you make of that ."

Harry laughed loudly, but without any mirth in his tone. "And what guarantee do you have that I will rise to your bait? I might venture to sit here and plot my escape. I am a very resourceful chap, you must know, and that villain, Slugger and his greasy gang might accept a large bribe and let me go."

"And there is one other string to my bow, after all - you must have learned by now that Lij is very kind-hearted. I shall beg him most sincerely for my life, utter several reminders of our boyhood and he will let me go - do not doubt it. I expect he has already told you what he wishes to do with me, has he not?"

Dom folded his arms and glared at the man on the floor, but he did not for one moment think that Warbois was bluffing. "He wishes to send you as far away as is possible - to Jamaica, to his estates there."

Harry grinned. "And you think that I will be content to stay there for the rest of my life, do you? To moulder away amongst the sugar cane and the heat, sweating out my life under the banana trees? I will go, because I have no choice, it is that or the gallows - but whilst I am there I shall lay my plans well - and I will return, do not doubt I will return - a very rich man."

Dom's brow creased. Warbois would go to Jamaica, and would amass a fortune at Elijah's expense - and who knows that he may not try again to kill his cousin? Might he not employ someone to do the deed whilst he remained out there, for a time, safe and free from suspicion? Dom could not bear it - Lij would never be safe whilst Warbois lived.

Dom came to a decision. "Morlock, untie him. And do not interfere - stand against the wall and keep out of it."

"Yes, sir," came the quiet voice, and soon Harry was on his feet, rubbing his wrists, and sneering at Dom. "Come on, then, you Irish upstart - see what you can do against a real man, not a namby-pamby boy like Lij."

"Lij is more of a man that you will ever be, you bastard!" Dom advanced slowly his fists raised, and despite the braggart's boasts, landed a fine blow on his opponent's face, splitting his lip.

Warbois cursed loudly and shook his head. He hit Dom's shoulder, hard, which Dom shrugged off, then caught his opponent a crushing blow to his left cheekbone. The bone cracked, and Harry cursed violently. They circled the cellar, Morlock, mindful of his instructions, keeping well out of the way.

Dom landed another blow, this time on the chin, and, as Warbois forgot the rules of gentlemanly engagement and attempted to kick Dom in the groin, Dom, remembering the tricks taught to him in Spain by better street fighters than Harry would ever be, employed his feet to kick his opponent's leg and wrong foot him.

Warbois fell heavily to the ground and but recovered sooner than Dom expected. Snarling with rage, he ran across the room and reached for his walking stick. Dom, who owned one himself, knew what was about to happen and yelled out a warning to Morlock.

That brave soul flung himself upon Warbois in a valiant effort to stop the unsheathing of the deadly swordstick hidden within but he was no match for a man who could see the shadow of the noose so clearly. With a savage backhand to the jaw, Morlock was laid low.

Warbois twisted the handle, and drew the blade from its sheath within the cane.

"See now who is top dog, my fine buck - it will not be the first time, I hear, that a member of our family has bested you with a blade!"

In proof of this statement Warbois lunged and caught Dom a glancing blow on the shoulder, which stung, but did not go deep.

Dom circled the cellar, careful to keep Warbois beyond sword reach. He could call for help but there was no one at hand beyond the trapdoor. Warbois was content to enjoy his moment, relishing, no doubt, the fact that he had one of the most able swordsmen in town at his mercy.

There was a groan from Morlock and Dom foolishly allowed himself to glance at his man. Within seconds there was the sound of a blade perilously close to his ear. Warbois was toying with him.

“Next time, dilly, I will not be as generous. I will so enjoy writing to Lij from my safe haven how I cut his fancy-man to pieces.”

It was not the insults to his nature that spurred Dom to act at that moment but the thought of the agony Lij would endure at such news. He darted once to the side and quickly the other way and continued to move like some capering inhabitant of Bedlam. It might not be the proper way of standing and accepting one’s fate but he had learned that very often the unusual won the day. All that mattered was that he and Morlock escaped the cellar unharmed.

Except for the fact that Warbois’ time with the Gentlemen had served him in good stead, Dom’s ruse might have worked. Annoyed at the delay to his wishes for Monaghan’s death, Harry reached for the stool on which he had previously sat and hurled it at the man who had so often come between him and his dreams of riches.

Before Dom could react, he was bowled over and over and in a hail of splintered wood, lay dazed against the cellar wall. Every bone in his body protested but what he saw drove all thoughts of hurt from his mind. Warbois had managed to get him into the far corner of the cellar. He was trapped. The only escape was through Warbois and his swordstick.

“Get up, nancy, get up and face what is coming to you. If you die well, I might even leave my dearest coz alone, for a while at least.”

Dom staggered upright. He noticed Morlock pulling something from his boot. It was the bone-handled carving knife from the dining parlour.

In a sudden movement the knife was thrown and Dom, mindful of Morlock’s shouted warning that the blade could be poisoned, caught it deftly.

“I can face what is coming to me, Warbois, but can you?”

Warbois confidently advanced. He knew that he had to kill both Dom and Morlock to escape, but, armed with a sword, he could hold the upper hand. Dom might have a knife, but the blade of the sword was longer, and sharper.

Dom parried the first blow with the knife, but he knew he could not win like this - the odds were against him, and Warbois, he knew, was accounted an excellent swordsman.

Dom was caught another glancing blow to the wrist, and Warbois, seeing the red tracery of blood, crowed with delight. "Not long, now, and I'll have you under the heel of my boot!" he panted, moving away from Dom's right hand which held fast to the knife.

Morlock, frightened for his master, began to advance on Warbois, but Dom shouted to him, "Hold back, I command you!" and Morlock retreated, standing against the wall, trembling, his fists clenched in impotent anger.

Warbois lunged forward, in his rage and elation. Dom, expecting the attack against his right arm, hefted the blade neatly into his unregarded left hand and struck his adversary deep into his chest.

Warbois fell with a short grunt of surprise, and soon his breathing faltered. The last words he uttered in this world were heard by Dom as he leaned over to make sure Harry was done for.

“Tell Giles…tell him…”

Dom looked long at the body at his feet cursing the nature of families. Now he knew who had aided Harry Warbois.

“Damn him. Damn all of them.”

Beckoning to Morlock, he said quietly, "find Bert and send him down here. We must dispose of him before Lij..." He could not finish the sentence. He did not wish Lij to see his cousin's dead body.

Within a few minutes Bert clambered clumsily down the steps, carrying a lantern, swiftly followed by Morlock. Bert cast a jaundiced eye on the body and, rubbing his nose, said, philosophically, "Yer man, 'ere, tole me what 'appened - well, better him than yerself, or yer dook, sir. Now, what is we goin' to do wiv 'im? I'm damned if I'm goin' ter carry..."

He lifted his lantern to examine the room, and his eye landed on some gardening tools which had been hidden from sight by the dim light of the single candle that had been burning there. He nodded, decisively, and cast a speculative eye at the dirt floor.

Then he looked at Morlock, and gestured at the tools. Dom's man indicated that he was willing to assist Bert in his enterprise, for Dom was suffering from the inevitable outcome of the night's accumulated happenings and was leaning his head against the wall, breathing heavily.

How...what am I to tell Lij? "By the way, my love, I killed Harry last night?" It could be said as calmly as that? I...cannot...

Bert's calm voice broke comfortably into the silence. "Now, sir, do you get to bed an' leave it ter yer man an' me ter sort. But I'd like ter know what was the dook goin' ter do wiv 'im, fer I'll go bail 'e wasn't goin' to let 'im stand the nubbin' cheat."

Dom raised his head. "He wanted to send him to Jamaica, to run his estates there. But I did not think it would answer... I thought..."

Bert gave a wry grin. "Yer fort right. 'E'd 'ave never given up once 'e started, not 'is sort. Seed it all before, I 'ave. 'E'd 'ave kept tryin' or die in the attempt.
Well, go ter bed, now, an' tell yer young pippin in the mornin' that yer 'elped 'his cousin 'scape the gallows. And tell 'im I seed the cove off on a fast 'orse, 'avin' been greased in the fist - an', no, I don't want payin' for it, jest tell 'im I 'ave been, ovverwise 'e' might suspicion me, knowin' what I is, like. Yeah, I seed 'im lookin' when I dropped me book, too. Off wiv yer, now. We 'as work ter do, an' I wants to be back in my bed afore one."

Morlock stopped Dom before he left the cellar, begging him not to immediately inform Elijah what had gone forward. "You will live to regret it, m'Lord, if you tell him, now, his heart being so full of grief for his cousin's treachery. Better you keep the secret, for a while, than break him," he said, quietly, and Dom had agreed.

Dom climbed the stairs, weary to the depths of his soul. He washed the slight wounds Harry had caused to his shoulder and wrist, and, as he bound the cuts, grimaced at the thought that Lij would find the marks in the morning. He would have to tell his love that he fought with his cousin, but that was it - he would say no more.

He settled against Elijah in the comfortable bed, and his love, waking at Dom's presence beside him, turned, and was welcomed into his arms. Laying his head on Dom's shoulder, Elijah, comforted by the familiar closeness, fell again, into sleep.

*****

Dom, however, could not sleep. He kept thinking of what he had done, berating himself that he had not found another way of keeping Elijah from further harm. But what could have been done? Nothing. If Lij was determined on sending his cousin to Jamaica - and Dom had discovered how stubborn his life's partner could be - then nothing could have been done to save Elijah from further attacks. Nothing short of Warbois' death would have kept Elijah safe.

He buried his nose in Elijah's hair and breathed in the scent of him. This calmed his agitated heart, and answered as a soporific so well that he fell into an exhausted sleep in spite of himself.

****

Several hours later Elijah woke. He had slept deeply and was feeling much refreshed, but it was not yet dawn, and Dom's arm was flung protectively over his body as if, even in sleep, he was guarded.

Elijah flexed the fingers of his free hand and noted with satisfaction that the tingling he had felt in them was markedly less than it had been the night before.

Dom had turned so that he was lying on his stomach, and Elijah not wishing to disturb his lover, began to think about the problems that now beset him - the chief of which was his iniquitous cousin Harry.

Elijah could not understand - even after he had heard Harry's story from Barney, Ceddie and Harry himself - why he should wish to stoop to murder to extract himself from his financial embarrassments.

He thought, sadly, of his brother George, now resting in the family vault at Stanford Park. He too might have thought of the same solution as had Harry, had it occurred to him, for it was well known to Elijah - quiet and studious - that George despised his almost feminine beauty, and sneered at his lack of sporting skills.

But he had not considered it, and now he was dead. Harry, whom Elijah had always thought of as a friend as well as a cousin, was the only one who had plotted to do away with him. Elijah was greatly saddened and shocked by this revelation, and as he lay there, a thought, almost blinding in its intensity, flooded into his mind.

Harry would not stop - would never stop from attempting to get his hands on the prize he coveted. Elijah well remembered, as a small boy, watching his slightly older cousin attempting to climb the old oak in Stanford Park in emulation of his hero, Charles the Second, at Boscobel.

Harry had been determined to climb to the very topmost branches, and, although they were out of his reach of his ten year old legs, he refused to admit it could not be done.

Even his uncle, Elijah's father, could not persuade Harry out of that tree. The promise of a thrashing later by the enraged Duke was laughed off. "Uncle, I will climb this tree, or else I will find a hatchet and fell the thing, so I promise you!" Harry had called down.

It was getting dark before the bailiff had the happy thought of bringing a long ladder and so let Harry accomplish his purpose. He came down afterwards in silence, but grinning mightily, and his uncle, almost speechless with rage at the inevitable damage caused to his precious oak, had soundly boxed Harry's ears and dragged him indoors to administer the promised punishment.

The next day Harry proudly displayed to Elijah the marks of the beating he had received at his uncle's hands. "Pooh!" he had said, grinning. "As if I would let a little thing like that prevent me from doing what I wished!"

No, Elijah thought with sorrow, Harry would not be so fobbed off. If he were allowed to go to Jamaica, it would mean he might again try...Elijah dismissed the thought with an effort. He would discuss it further with Dom, when he woke.

Dom turned in his sleep, and Elijah was freed at length from the constraining arm. He quietly slipped out of bed, thrust his feet into his slippers, donned his robe and decided to see if there was anyone awake in the kitchens, for, he recalled - not without horror - he had eaten no dinner the previous night.

He was surprised to discover he still felt slightly giddy, so he put his hand on the wall as a guide until he came to the door. He tried to open it quietly so as not to wake Dom, but there was another problem confronting him. Morlock was sleeping outside the door - why, Elijah could not imagine.

The old soldier woke with a start and leapt to his feet, knocking over the lighted candle that had rested at his side.

"Now, where do you think you are off to...your Grace?" Morlock hissed, quickly adding the belated honorific, which did not quite rob his question of impertinence.

Elijah put his head on one side and silently regarded the man. He looked tired. "Are you guarding me or your master, Morlock?" he said in the same hushed tones.

Morlock closed the bedroom door with a slight grin on his weary face. "His Lordship doesn't need a guard, sir. He could wake if a mouse crossed the floor..."

Elijah folded his arms. "I account myself slightly larger than a mouse, man, and he did not wake when I left. Do you think it safe for me to leave him whilst I visit the kitchens? I must admit to being very thirsty."

Morlock nodded. "Safe as houses, sir. There are two of Bert's men in there, just come off watch...just in case..." he said, swiftly noting the slight look of alarm on the duke's face. Just in case the bastard has any accomplices nearhe thought, grimly.

"Is he held safe?" Elijah did not need to name the man. Morlock smothered a wry laugh. "Oh, aye, your Grace - he's safely confined, I can assure you of that."

Elijah nodded. "I shall not see him until Dom... until his Lordship is awake. But meanwhile, drink some tea I must!"

Morlock thought carefully. "If he wakes and find you gone..."

He had no need to finish the sentence. Elijah knew Dom would be frantic if he woke to find him missing. It would be the same were their positions reversed.

"Will you bring me something, Morlock? Tea, and a piece of bread and butter... will do very well."

Dom's henchman looked grim. As if he read Elijah's mind, he remarked, "you need not fear to eat the meat, your Grace. Bert's men are keeping their eye on all the doings in the kitchen,. and it must be remembered that the servants, too, must eat."

Elijah sighed. "Yes, you are right, of course. But, as yet, I cannot eat more than a slice of bread."

*****

Dom woke two hours later, just as dawn was rising, and the light of the rosy morning sun shone onto his sleeping face. He reached out for Elijah, and started as his hand met the cool linen sheets, and not the warm flesh that he expected.

"Good morning!" said a voice from the window. "I hope you slept as well as did I."

Dom yawned and stretched his arms. "I did, once I managed to sink into sleep." Then Dom remembered what was lying in the cold earth two floors beneath them. To cover his dismay he launched into speech.

"Do you feel better today, Lij? How is the numbness, now? Do you..."

Elijah stemmed the flow with a kiss. "I feel well, nearly well, at any rate. I have eaten a substantial breakfast," he said, mendaciously, pointing to the empty plate on the table, "and have just perceived, riding into the yard, what must be the village constable and his men, and a small shabby carriage which disgorged the doctor, judging by his bag. So get up, my love and put on your nightgown, at least, or the doctor will be treated to the sight of your undoubted charms."

Dom jumped out of bed and had just arrayed himself in his nightgown and robe when Morlock rapped on the door.

"It's the doctor, your Gr...Mr Retford ...and the constable has come!"

Dom opened the door to find a young man standing outside. "Morlock, give the constable to Bert and Sir Barney, and do you, sir," he said to the doctor, "come in,"

The doctor entered. Elijah rose from his seat, bowed slightly and shook his hand. The doctor returned the courtesy and bowed to Dom who was now standing, pale and slightly trembling, beside the bed.

"Dr Allan at your service. Which of you two gentlemen do I have the pleasure of attending this morning?" said the young man in hearty tones. It was true that Dom was as pale as was Elijah, and looked equally overwatched.

Dom wished that they had been sent someone a little older than this man, who seemed not to be any older than was Elijah. It seemed this thought must have been apparent in his demeanour, for the young man coloured and said, in a slightly defensive tone, "I am sorry that Dr Millbank would not...could not..."

He abandoned dissimulation. "If you will have the truth of it, my uncle thought it not worth his while attending a patient at a common inn, so sent me. I am sorry, but I am a good physician, despite my youth, I assure you."

The ghost of a smile appeared on Elijah's lips. "I am sure you are. We do not count age has a perquisite of knowledge or experience, do we, Dom?"

Dom bowed. "It is as you say."

The doctor bowed again. The formality was becoming tiresome, thought Dom, wishing him to hurry and examine Elijah.

"Which of you is Mr Retford...?" the young man enquired glancing from one to the other.

Dom decided to cut line and tell all. The man was, after all, bound by the Hippocratic Oath. Besides the constable was downstairs - soon everyone in the inn would be privy to last night's happenings.

"This is Mr Retford,"Dom indicated Elijah with a warm smile, "but I am afraid you have been slightly misled by whomever it was who asked you to call on him. He has been in contact with poison that killed his dog, and which he touched. We are anxious to discover if he has been injured by it."

Dr Allan looked shocked. "May I ask what this poison was?" he said, staring first at Elijah and then at Dom.

Elijah waited for Dom to answer. "We do not know, doctor..." Dom raised his hands in a gesture of defeat, then glanced at Elijah. "I am sorry, but he would not tell us what it was, for he did not himself know."

Dom's gaze returned to the doctor, who was, by now, nearly as pale as was his patient.

"Do you mean to say that this poison was administered to Mr Retford by someone here - someone in this inn?" Dr Allan almost squeaked, abruptly sitting upon the nearest chair.

Elijah nodded. "It was, indeed, doctor." He turned to Dom, all traces of his earlier calm manner quite removed from his pale countenance.

"If you will do me the courtesy, I wish Harry to be brought to me, under guard. I would like him to tell Dr Allan all he knows of the ...substance. If you please," demanded Elijah in firm tones, as he noted Dom's stricken countenance.

"I will see him, Dom. Bring him to me, if you please. Now."

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