Silk and Shadows(121)

"Probably," Peregrine admitted. "Siva goes like the wind over a flat course, but is only a moderate jumper."

The two men turned their horses back the way they had come, riding companionably side by side. Peregrine's temporary sense of well-being began to fade. He scanned their surroundings, his brow furrowed. "We really shouldn't be out here. Too exposed. It would be very easy for a sniper to pick us off. I'm getting careless—I don't even have a gun with me."

Ross's brows drew together. "You really think Weldon will try to murder you outright?"

"Yes, though I think he will not want to do so just yet. It will make more sense to try to trace Slade and my business connections first." Peregrine glanced at his friend. "After the ball, I'm afraid he will come after you as well. Did you see his expression when you stepped in and vouched for me?"

Ross nodded. "I think the man is more than a little mad, and your vendetta is revealing the worst in him."

"The evil that has always been inside him is getting closer and closer to the surface." Peregrine frowned. "By speaking up, you deflected the disgrace from my head to his. Being incapable of admitting an error in judgment, Weldon will put the blame squarely on you and Sara."

"You could have talked Victoria around once you got over your shock." The path narrowed as it circled a small pond. Ross went ahead until the path widened and they could ride abreast again. "I was surprised to see you thrown for a loss. It was just his word against yours. As Sara's thwarted suitor, he had an obvious motive for malicious mischief."

"Perhaps," Peregrine said dryly. "But I thought that if it came down to the word of a wellborn Englishman against a foreigner, Weldon was the one who would be believed. I didn't expect my friends to lie for me."

"I didn't lie," Ross said, his expression innocent. "I did, indeed, meet you in Kafiristan, and while it is stretching a point to call your house a palace, it was the grandest building in the village, and the Kafirs thought very highly of you." After a moment, he added reflectively, "Can't say that Sara lied, either. It's just that her idea of what constitutes a husband of suitable rank is considerably broader than Victoria's."

Peregrine had to laugh. "You two are as bad as I am!"

Ross grinned. "Were you really born in London?"

"Indeed I was." Peregrine gave his friend an abbreviated version of the story he had told Sara. At the end he said, "You don't seem very surprised."

"I'm not. Even in Kafiristan, I thought that you were either of mixed blood or not a native son," Ross said. "Since you came to England at the beginning of the summer, I've come to the conclusion that you were probably at least partially European. And if European, why not English?"

"How did I give myself away?"

Ross pondered for a while. "Subtle things. Underlying patterns of thought that seemed more Western than oriental. I can't be more specific than that."

"Considering how widely you've traveled, I suppose if anyone was going to guess, it would be you." Peregrine's voice acquired an edge. "Does it matter to you that I'm a slum bastard?"

Ross gave him a cool glance. "Are you proud or ashamed of your background?"

Peregrine was taken aback. "Not ashamed. I suppose, in an odd way, I'm proud. If I had been raised in a softer environment, I never would have survived what came later."

"Then don't be defensive about what made you what you are," Ross said crisply.

That seemed to close the question of his background rather thoroughly. There was no shortage of class prejudice in British society, but it was Peregrine's great good fortune that his wife and his best friend had none.

As they rode along the trail in silence, Peregrine's gaze continued to scan the trees and hills around them, and he saw that Ross was equally watchful. At length, Ross said, "What are you going to do about Weldon?"

"I honestly don't know," Peregrine admitted. He described the break-in at Slade's house. "If the fire had been successful, Benjamin would be dead and many of his records destroyed. Weldon must die. He is dangerous to too many people. The question is how. I don't think the law would give a guaranteed result."

Ross gave him a sardonic look. "Why are you talking about the law? Aren't you going to kill him yourself?"

Peregrine glanced at the other man, his face impassive. Yes, his friends were definitely too perceptive. "I prefer to think of it as an execution."

"So what is stopping you?"

Peregrine's brows arched. "What, no lecture on morality?"

"I don't like the idea one damned bit," Ross said, his voice clipped, "but I don't see an alternative. It is obvious that you and Weldon are locked in a till-death-do-you-part feud, and if one of you must die, I would prefer it to be Weldon."