“If you knew the full of it, you’d beg me to let you do this. That is all I can assure you. But it is of utmost importance that this be done. Lives may well depend on it,” the man assured him, but Aaron was already shaking his head.
“So I’m to steal something, but I know not what—”
“Precisely,” the man interrupted.
“What do I do, grab the first thing my eyes light upon, toss it in a sack, and fling it in the river? Is that what yer after?” Aaron needed to hear the man confirm the darkest of requests.
“I don’t care how you get rid of it, just so long as you do. Again, it is vitally important that you do this. You cannot possibly understand how grave the situation.” The man looked him in the eye, imploring him to understand.
“You may be the darkest of any scoundrel I’ve ever come across!”
“I assure you, that is not the case. That is so far from it that I take full offense at the accusation!” the man said, but there was nothing haughty in his tone now. His anger put aside, there was even the faintest glimmer of shine to his eyes, as though tears may spill forth at any moment.
“What’s so important then? Tell me plain, or I walk away with yer coins there, and may chance leave you with a blackened eye just for fun.”
“I cannot tell you all without putting myself in the way,” the man said, sighing sadly. “Only please trust that this payment was only for getting you to meet me here. I’ll pay it again four times over should you follow through.”
He held out the small cloth bag and let it fall into Aaron’s outstretched hand. At first, Aaron was taken aback by the weight of it. This payment alone was surely more than he could steal in a year’s time. But then his eyes happened to affix on the purse itself, its fine cloth and excellent stitching, the small tassels at the ends of its silk cord that tied it shut.
This was no poor man’s purse.
Aaron narrowed his eyes. “Ya might pass for a common idiot in this getup yer wearin’, but you don’t have me fooled. What’s yer true name then?”
“I cannot divulge that,” the man said, growing fearful now that his disguise had been uncovered. “But I can promise you payment in full the moment the job is complete. Here. This is the name and the place. Can you do this or not?”
Aaron took the folded paper and opened it, scanning the words written in a very fine hand. “Tis lucky for you I can e’en read this, ya know. You took a real chance hiring an outlaw and expecting him to read.”
The man sighed impatiently while his criminal contact perused the paper, weighing his decision with the same gusto as he weighed the many gold coins in his hand. Aaron pushed down the rising nausea and finally nodded.
“Yeah, I can do it. Tell me the particulars.”
Chapter 2
Twenty One Years Later…
Callum paced outside the door to his mother’s chambers, staring at his own reflection in the dark polished marble floor as he walked. The hard surface altered his reflection, expanding his tall frame until it stretched out before him. His brown eyes shifted grotesquely in his face with every movement, although his golden-red hair was plainly visible.
The bottom of his boot appeared to blot out his own distorted face with every step, and it seemed fitting. He wanted no one to see his misery, to try to console him now. He knew too well what others would say: at least the disease has taken her quickly, at least you’re already a man of property and title and not some lost little boy, at least she died in the comfort of her family home and not in some far-flung colony of your father’s.
None of that mattered to Callum. Their words—and he’d already been subjected to them—were hollow attempts at easing his pain. In truth, there was nothing about his mother’s passing that would do anything other than rip through his heart and leave him to bleed out.
Despite the hushed tones and the whispered conversations, Callum knew that his mother’s time was short. He’d watched the disease take hold and seen the treatments leave her weak and thin. No matter how his concern grew, though, she had always brightened at the sight of him.
“My dearest boy!” she’d always say when he came to take his meals at her bedside, often dragging a second chair over for his adoring father. “Whatever have I done to have such a wonderful family?”
Now that he had come into his own title and lands, Callum Ahern, Marquess of Bellton, had moved back into the Duke and Duchess of Tarnton’s estate to be with his mother, Lady Jane Ahern. His own property would wait for him for as long as he wished, but he knew these days were to be her last.
Callum stopped his pacing when he heard the latch of the door. He looked at the physician’s grim face and hurried close.
“Anything?” Callum asked, knowing the answer even before the physician shook his head.
“As usual, there is nothing more I can do,” he replied in a weary voice. Callum noted the dark circles beneath the man’s eyes from where he’d stayed so late and arrived again so early this morning. “It is only a matter of time now, I’m afraid.”
“I see,” Callum said, the breath going out of him once again. “But is there anything you can do for her suffering?”
“She won’t hear of it! I’ve all but begged, but Her Grace insists upon being of clear mind until… until the end. She refuses all medicines that might ease her pain but put her in a state of near unconsciousness.” The physician looked at Callum earnestly and said, “Perhaps she’ll take your advice on the matter? I can ease the pain with a very simple, very common treatment, but perhaps she’ll listen if you ask it of her?”
“I’ll try my best, but my mother is known throughout the countryside for her stubbornness,” Callum said lightly, attempting humor to mask his deep grief. “If you may, leave the bottle with her lady’s maid and I’ll implore my mother once again.”
