“I had a right to the girl. Your mother took good money for her and signed the betrothal papers,” the man said, looking all around him as if some magical doorway would open to help him escape.
“My mother had no right to negotiate with you and well you know it. What? Did you think despoiling my young sister would cure you?” He could tell by the look that passed over the man’s ruined face that Minden had thought just that. “Idiot. All that would have happened would have been that you would have infected an innocent with your disease. I think the madness that comes with the rot has already seeped into your mind.”
“It was worth a try.” Minden shrugged and then pulled out his pistol.
Brant reached for his even though he knew he would not have time to pull it from his pocket and aim before Minden shot him. As he thought which was the best direction to move in, a shot rang out. Minden stood for a moment and then slowly collapsed on the ground. Brant saw Pawl standing behind the man with a pistol in his hand. He hurried over and took it from Pawl.
“Best if we say I shot him,” he said and handed Pawl his unfired pistol.
“It will certainly save me having to talk to a lot of folk. Your sister is fine. A few bruises and a few rips in her gown, but nothing else. Artemis and Stefan are keeping her behind the carriage so she cannot see this.”
“Minden’s driver?”
“Dead. Head split open when he hit the road. Making certain your sister cannot see that, either.”
Brant saw Agatha standing between Olympia’s nephews, each boy speaking softly as they tried to ease her fear. She saw him and raced to his arms. For a moment, Brant just held her, thankful she had not been harmed. Once his own fear was calmed, he held her away from him and looked her over, seeing only what Pawl had said was there.
“Did he touch you?” he asked her.
“Not as I think you mean. He was so ill, Brant. Wretchedly ill. Each time he spoke you could nearly smell the rot inside him. Mother gave me to him anyway. He handed her a bank draft and she handed me to him.” She shook her head. “I do not know that woman,” she whispered.
“Nor do I and that is probably a very good thing. Wait with the boys, Aggie,” he said quietly when he noticed a man with silver hair and an air of authority walking toward them.
As Brant had expected, the man was a magistrate. Even more convenient for Brant the man had also seen everything from his window as he had struggled to dress. It meant he had seen who had shot Minden but he said nothing as Brant confessed to the shooting, just wrote it all down and then told him he was free to leave. As Brant walked to his carriage, he watched the magistrate touch Pawl’s arm, stopping Olympia’s cousin for a few words before smiling and letting Pawl go.
“I do not wish to go home where our mother still is, Brant,” Agatha said the moment he climbed into the carriage.
“I will take you to the Warren and soon I will take you out to Fieldgate if you like,” he said as he sat down next to her and put his arm around her.
“I think I would like that,” she murmured and rested her head against his shoulder.
Brant looked at Pawl. “What did the magistrate have to say to you?”
Pawl smiled. “Asked me if I was ever a soldier. I said no and he said that was a shame as the military could use a man with such a good eye for shooting.”
Shaking his head, Brant laughed. “I knew he had seen it all but when he never questioned my claim of having shot Minden, I assumed he was just going to let it stand.”
“Why would it matter?” asked Agatha. “Minden was about to shoot you, was he not?”
“Pawl is a servant,” Brant answered. “It should not matter but it does. Easier to try and just slip around it with a small lie.”
The moment they reached the Warren, Brant handed the care of his sister over to Olympia. “I will need to go back to Mallam House. I have to make certain my mother does not slip free.”
“What will happen to Mama?” asked Agatha from where she pressed close to Olympia, willing to accept the comfort she offered with an arm around the girl’s shoulders.
“There is a lot that could be done. I was thinking the best would be to send her to the most remote of her dower lands with a few guards who can be trusted. I will make it clear to her that she must stay there and cease what she has been doing. If she breaks away or begins to play her vicious games again, I will see her punished as the criminal she is even if it sends her to the hangman.”
“And would you? Really?”
“If she does not stay where she is put and tries to return to what she has been doing here for years, yes. Without hesitation. I am offering her a comfortable prison. She would be wise to accept that.”