Page 78 of The Swindler’s Daughter

Instead, we watched as the duke’s guards pulled the blustering and furious magistrate from the sitting room, half carrying him since his leg seemed unwilling to support him. The constables were escorted away in a more sedate fashion. Magistrate Reeve shouted insults and accusations at us all the way down the corridor, quieting only after a guard threatened him with violence.

The group disappeared down the stairs, leaving our weapons sitting in a pile on the ground.

The front door opened and a draft rose up, causing the lights of the wall lamps to shudder and blink. The murmur of voices seemed to crescendo before the door closed and all fell quiet. The lamp flames steadied and my heart beat a regular rhythm once more.

The shocked silence was deafening.

“How in the name of Saint Mortimer did we manage that?” Tyson exclaimed.

My knees trembled and I stumbled back, reaching for the wall to support me. Instead Rowan caught me and gathered me into his arms, practically picking me up off the ground as his terrified breaths whooshed out of him on each exhale. I just closed my eyes and clung to his shoulders with what little strength I had.

We weren’t in chains. We weren’t headed to prison. We weren’t headed for a noose. We were just…free.

I opened my eyes to look at the others. Tyson stood there with a grin and wide eyes, like he couldn’t believe his good luck. Oliver had turned his back to the group, trying to hide the fact that he was crying tears of relief. John’s hands rested on his hips and he shifted his weight back and forth, taking slow, deliberate breaths. “I thought,” he gulped out, “I thought we were done for. I thought…”

Rowan pulled back, leaving one arm around me as he wiped at his own eyes. “That’s what we all thought.”

“I didn’t expect him to be that fair.” My voice quavered. “Or listen that well. Or…care.”

“I think we owe Father Tucker a debt of gratitude,” Rowan pointed out.

Each of us nodded and Tyson said, “Hear, hear.”

We all wandered over to where our weapons had been left, our steps stilted by the tension none of us seemed able to shake off.

John pointed his staff at Rowan. “I was ready to tackle you when you started admitting to all we’d done,” he said then turned thoughtful. “But in the end, I think that’s the reason he was so lenient.”

Rowan nodded. “I think you’re right.”

I wrapped my arms around Rowan’s waist. “The duke said himself that our story lined up with what he’d heard. If we’d tried to deny it…if we’d tried to claim that we’d done no wrong, I think he would have tossed us in jail.” Our approach of radical truth-telling had saved us. I was sure of it.

“So then,” Oliver said with red eyes, “what do we do now?”

We looked at each other, none of us knowing quite what to say. Finally I raised a shoulder and said, “Go home, I suppose.”

“It’s going to be strange having the duke’s family here,” John commented. “I wonder if Mrs. Wolcroft had any advance notice of their coming.”

Tyson let out a low whistle. “If she did, it can’t have been more than a day or two. She’s got to be in a right state about now.”

The poor housekeeper. If this visit—by the entire ducal family, no less—was a surprise, she was likely in fits.

“We’d best go see what we can do to be of help,” John said, motioning to Tyson. Then he looked to the rest of us. “Turn out the lamps before you go, will you?”

“We’ll take care of everything,” I assured him. The furniture in the sitting room would need to be covered again and the fire doused. We’d leave this old wing as we’d found it—cold and empty.

***

Oliver ran back to Sutton as soon as we’d put out the lamps and tidied the sitting room. Rowan and I took our time. We walked out of Bridgefield’s old wing, the door shutting behind us sounding hollow and ominous. Yet the moon was bright and the stars twinkled as we walked hand in hand toward Sutton Manor.

“Do you think that’s the end of it?” I asked. “Are we really just going to be able to walk away from what just happened without punishment?”

“I certainly hope so.” He gave my hand a squeeze.

“It’s hard to believe.”

Rowan thought that over for a few moments. “Yes, but it shouldn’t be.”

“What do you mean?” Did he not realize how miraculous our pardon was?