Like the Brothers Grimm, she delighted in sharing the darker side of the world. You loved those stories while the rest of us cowered in fear. Perhaps that’s why you’re the explorer among us; you savor the things we seek to avoid.

Later that same afternoon, Leeds wiped the blood from his nose and looked about the tack room. “Och, tha’ finishes it.”

“Aye,” Stewart agreed, holding a handkerchief to his cut ear. “ ’Twas no’ so hard. After all, they’re but Sassenachs.”

He looked at the six footmen and two coachmen who were now trussed and tied up along one wall. He and Leeds might be sporting some bruises, but the footmen and coachmen were far worse for wear, only two of them even conscious.

“Ye could see Mr. Hurst’s Scottish lineage in the way he fought tonight,” Leeds said.

Stewart cast a cautious glance at the closed door before he leaned forward to say, “There’s no’ many men as can fight like Mr. Hurst, fer all he wears them Frenchified clothes.”

Leeds nodded. “He do dress like he couldna’ lift a fork, much less make a fist.”

“But when he makes a fist—” Stewart shook his head in admiration. “ ’Tis somethin’ to see.”

The door to the tack room opened and Mr. Hurst walked in. He had already tugged his gloves back on, his cane tucked under one arm, his cravat back in perfect repair. Only the faint scrape along his jaw indicated he’d been involved in a glorious altercation. “You’ve tied them securely?”

“Aye, sir,” Stewart said. “Leeds tied ’em, and I checked the lashin’s meself.”

“Good. Thank you for assisting me.”

“Och, now,” Leeds said, grinning. “ ’Twas a pleasure.”

“Aye,” Stewart said, cracking his knuckles. “ ’Twas more fun than havin’ to put up the horses.”

Robert had to laugh at their enthusiasm. “It was a good fight.”

“Wha’ are we to do wit’ them now, sir?” Stewart asked.

“We’ll hold them here until morning, when we’ll put them on the mail coach and send them back to Edinburgh to their damned master.

“It’s a pity we won’t be there to see Aniston’s face when his servants are returned to him.”

Stewart rubbed his chin. “Ye seem a mite put out by this Aniston fellow.”

“ ‘Put out’ isn’t the phrase I’d use.” Robert couldn’t keep the bitterness from his voice. Just the thought of Aniston made his chest tighten as if a vise were upon it.

Stewart cleared his throat. “Sir, just to be certain . . . are we to send them back alive?”

“Of course you’re to send them back alive! I just don’t want any of them to follow us. And this will send Aniston a message he’ll not forget.

“You may leave them for now; just lock the door and keep the key with you. I won’t have someone stumbling upon them and letting them all go.”

“What if the servants from the inn need to get into the tack room?” Stewart asked.