A Gentleman Never Tells(81)

“All right.”

“And that means without questioning me, Gabrielle.”

“I understand, my lord,” she said, squeezing his hand to let him know she understood the gravity of what they were doing.

Gabrielle held tightly to his hand and stayed close to him as they weaved through the throng of people. Near the far end of the booths and tents, the crowd thinned and it was clear the man was heading to the back of the main attractions, to where there were several large tents and four large covered wagons. Off to one side, children played with a ball. Not far from there, several women sat around a large pot that had a fire going underneath it.

Brent tried to keep his mind from racing with possibilities, but why would a man who said he caught rabbits in the park to sell to the taverns and inns be so familiar with the back area of a traveling fair? Unless he also sold what he caught to the owners.

Brent slowed and looked around when the man turned a corner and headed to one of the tents behind a roped-off area. He needed to stop him before he entered the tent. He led Gabrielle over to a booth.

Brent put his finger to his lips and said, “Shh. Stay here. Do not follow me.”

Without further thought, Brent hurried past the rope barricade and called out to the man. He turned, saw Brent, and started to run. Brent rushed the man from behind, caught him, and pushed him up against the wagon, pinning him against it with his body. The man reached back with his fist and knocked Brent’s hat to the ground. Brent caught the man’s flailing arm and pulled it behind his back, stretching it up toward his shoulder.

“I don’t have any money, nothing of value,” the man managed to say as Brent pressed his face against the wagon.

“I have no need of your money or anything else. I simply want to know what you have in the sack.”

“Squirrels. You can have them. Take them if you want. They’re yours.”

Inhaling deeply, Bent relaxed and blew out a disappointed breath. He let go of the man and stepped away.

The man turned to face Brent. His wide eyes seemed frozen in shock as he held out the bag to Brent with a trembling hand.

Brent took the sack and looked inside. Dead squirrels. He closed it and handed it back to the man. “You told me you sold the animals you caught to tavern and inn keepers.”

The man nodded. “I do, my lord, but I also told you I sold to whoever is buying. And sometimes I sell to the people here. Their money spends just as good.”

“Have you ever picked up stray dogs and brought them here for the animals?”

The man’s eyes widened, and Brent could tell his throat constricted as he swallowed hard. “Not lately, sir.”

“But you have?”

He nodded. “Nobody’s ever cared.”

Brent’s stomach turned over. “Did you pick up a small, fluffy dog in the park a few weeks ago and bring it here?”

“I swear I didn’t, my lord.” His lips trembled, and his voice shook. “I’d never pick up a well-fed animal. Only pick them up if they are old, sickly, or starving. Sometimes it’s hard for the owners of places like this to get the leavings at the slaughterhouses. Strays are easy to catch, a lot easier to catch than a rabbit or squirrel. All you have to do to get a stray to come to you is offer him food or a bone, and he’ll come right to you. But believe me, sir, I like dogs. I wouldn’t ever sell a healthy dog to anyone.”

“Did you know that several small dogs have gone missing in London?”

The man shook his head. “Can’t read and don’t have time to listen to folks talking on the streets.”

Brent didn’t know why, but he believed the man. He pulled a coin out of his coat pocket and gave it to the man. “If you hear anything that might help me find out what is happening to the dogs, find me. I’ll reward you for it.”

The man attempted a nervous smile and nodded.

Brent picked up his hat and dusted it on his leg as he headed back toward Gabrielle.

“Brent,” Gabrielle said, rushing up to him. “What was all that about?”

He took hold of her hand and kissed it. It calmed him and settled him just to be able to touch her. As they headed back to the main part of the fair, in as little detail as possible in order to spare her sensibilities, Brent told her why he was questioning the man.

“It’s positively gruesome to even think about what you suspected the man of doing.”

“I know, but something is happening to the dogs, and I’m not going to rest until I find out what it is.”