‘If they set a trap it will be soon, I guess,’ Perry murmured. ‘Just around the next bend, I’d wager. There are some boat sheds there.’
Pitkin vanished around the corner, Theo lengthened his stride, then stopped dead so that Perry cannoned into him as a barn owl swept across their path.
‘Bloody hell, That scared the wits out of me,’ he muttered as they sorted themselves out.
At which point someone hit him with a cudgel.
It would have taken him on the head if Perry hadn’t given a croak of alarm so that Theo twisted away at the last moment and it landed on his right shoulder, the same one Laura had hit with the bottle of port. He reeled back clutching at his numbed arm, then went left-handed for the knife in his boot. Jared, the supreme sword master, had taught him to fight and hadn’t stopped the lessons with the elegant art of the rapier. He had taught Theo to fight dirty and now he went in low, stabbing for his opponent’s thighs.
Perry was using his stick against another cudgel and Theo heard the slim Malacca snap as his friend raised it above his head to block a downward blow. They were fighting by starlight and he was beginning to think they had come out inadequately armed when Perry jabbed at the face of the man wielding the cudgel. He stepped back to avoid the splintered end of the cane and stumbled just as the man facing Theo gave a gasp and collapsed at his feet.
Flynn stepped onto the road, a pistol held steady on the other assailant. ‘Who got him?’
‘I did.’ Pitkin emerged from the shadows, panting a trifle. ‘I just hope I didn’t brain him with that flint. I heard the fight and ran back, didn’t stop to take good aim.’ He shrugged. ‘Village cricket, I was always the bowler.’
‘Who is it?’ Theo bent and pulled the mask off the unconscious figure at his feet. Perry, after a moment’s fumbling, struck a light and Flynn, efficient as always, produced a candle from his pocket. ‘Hells’ teeth. Hogget.’
‘Damn you.’ The figure sprawled on its back on the verge sat up, its voice unmistakeably feminine.
‘Mrs Hogget?’ Why am I not surprised, Theo thought.
‘You know very well I am not if you have been talking to Laura Darke.’ She shook off Perry’s attempt to help her and got to her feet. ‘If you have killed James there will be the devil to pay.’ She glared at Pitkin. ‘Are they with you?’
‘They most certainly are,’ Pitkin said. ‘Oh, thank God, he’s alive.’
Hogget gave a groan and sat up.
‘Can you walk or shall I go for the carriage?’ Perry got him to his feet and he stood, swaying slightly. ‘The Grange is nearer than your house.’
‘I can walk.’
Charlotte Hogget took his arm and with Pitkin and Perry leading the way and Theo and Flynn bringing up the rear they trudged in silence up to the Grange.
Terence opened the door holding a stout stick and they were met in the hall by Jared making no attempt to hide the drawn rapier in his hand.
‘It’s all right,’ Theo said as they crowded in through the front door. ‘They appear to be on our side.’
‘Then why do you all look as though you’ve been in a fight?’ Laura demanded, running down the stairs.
‘Because we have. Terence, we need warm water, a bandage and whatever salves Mrs Bishop has for broken heads.’
‘Mr Hogget – and Charlotte?’ Laura stared at the other woman’s male attire, then threw open the drawing room door. ‘Come in where there is good light.’
It took half an hour before Hogget was bandaged, Charlotte’s bruises were dabbed with arnica and they were settled around the fire, drinks in hand.
‘You are not a British agent,’ Hogget said, staring hard at Pitkin.
‘I am Lord Northam’s valet.’
‘And I am Viscount Ravenlaw and you, I presume, are working for the Home Office,’ Jared said.
‘You are acquainted with the Duke of Calderbrook?’
‘He is a close friend. He went to the Home Office asking about gold Napoléons. They told us that the gold is connected with whatever has been going on here, but they did not name you. Any of you.’
Charlotte snorted. ‘They don’t trust anyone and as a result half the time we don’t get the information we need.’
‘You are both agents?’ Perry asked.