Free The Highwayman (Rakes and Rogues of the Restoration Book 3) by Judith James Page B

hazarding me…but me. There are other ways we might settle the matter of course, but I suggest you think of it as recompense, apology, or a gesture of goodwill. We understand each other, don’t we?”
    Perry muttered something under his breath about hell-born babes as Jack poured them both brimming tankards of ale.
    “Excellent! I am delighted we could come to an accord. I shall see to it that Sir Robert … is recognized for the villain he is, and when you hear the news, you will put it about, with the appropriate amount of shock and horror, that he has come to you many times in the past seeking to pawn his plate and jewels. Naturally, you took him as an honest country squire caught at low ebb, as happens to many a gentleman in these evil times.”
    “And just what is it you’re going to do?” Perry asked sourly.
    Jack rose and patted him on the shoulder. “Don’t you worry about that. You tend to your knitting, Perry. And I’ll tend to mine.”

 
     
     
CHAPTER NINE
     
     
    Observation, instinct, and quick and calm assessment were the keys to survival in a dangerous world, things Jack had learned from his earliest years. Though he tended to keep his true thoughts to himself and greeted all men with civility, he could usually tell with a quick glance and a firm handshake what weapon they used, their temperament and skill, and whether they carried anything worth stealing.
    He had not been gulling Perry. What he had told the man was true. It had not been difficult to read Robert Hammond. The man was avaricious, cold, and capable of murder if the girl had proven too stubborn, and he had no doubt the intrepid Arabella could be very stubborn indeed. He wondered if she had realized there had been more than her freedom and virtue at stake, or that now she had escaped the man, he would be more dangerous––not less.
    He trusted Nate had understood the import of his request and would see to it that she was well guarded with reliable men, but he didn’t like leaving loose ends. Given his own role in her misadventure and the fact he’d taken on the responsibility to see her safe—a little something extra was both owed and required.
    It had long stopped raining but was blustery still, when he sauntered into the Talbot later that afternoon. A swirl of dried gold and umber leaves entered with him, presaging an early fall. He clapped Allen on the back, and then put an arm around his shoulders and whispered something that sent the youth off on the run. Mrs. Winslow greeted him with a warm hug and a glass of mulled sack, Mr. Winslow, with a nod and a slight smile. Jack settled in a comfortable armchair by the fire in a well-appointed private sitting room on the second floor, and exhausted, fell asleep.
     
    ~
     
    “Well, well, well!
    Jack raised his head, looking up from beneath the brim of his hat at the tall, broad-shouldered, ruddy-faced fellow who was kicking his booted foot.
    “A private sitting room! If you’re going to give yourself airs you might also try dressing up a bit. You’re the knight of the highway in these parts. You’ve a reputation to live up to yet you insist on looking like some tattered heathen philosopher, as dark and somber as a crow.”
    Jack grinned as he looked his stylish companion up and down, noting his brushed pea-green embroidered coat, snow-white ruffled shirt, and silver powdered wig topped by hat trimmed with silver strings. It was said the man always carried three different colored wigs, claiming they were for purposes of trickery and disguise, but Jack knew it was to better match his coat and boots.
    “Alas! As I could never hope to match you in resplendence, Richard, I have resolved never to try.” He rose and shook the man’s hand, taking his shoulder in a firm grip. Captain Richard Dudley, born to a very good family fallen on hard times after the civil war, had been serving unhappily in Tangier at the same time Jack, riding as Samuel Nicks, had volunteered there in lieu of