by Golden Angel
“We think she has been abducted…”
“She received this note…” Miss Davis thrust a small scrap of paper at him.
“We told her it was too dangerous…”
“She insisted it was fine…”
“But he had a gun!”
“Who had a gun?” The icy fingers of fear tightened around his chest, squeezing and nearly choking him.
“The man!” Miss Pennyworth’s voice was becoming increasingly shrill. “You have to help her!”
“Sit down, please,” Browne said, surprisingly soothingly, though firm, turning on a charm he had certainly not displayed with Rex. Taking each young lady by the hand, he pulled them toward the chairs. “You need to tell us all the details, or else we will not be able to help.”
“Who are you?” Miss Davis asked, frowning as she took the chair Captain Jones had vacated. Despite the situation, Jones gave the quiet beauty a look Rex recognized all too well.
“Captain Jones and Captain Browne, here to speak with the Marquess about…” Jones’ voice trailed off as he groped for a suitable explanation.
“They are Stuart’s men, and they are also investigating the traitor,” Rex cut in. They did not have time to dance around the topic, not if Mary was in danger. When both men started to protest, Josie waved irritably at them, dismissing their concerns with a sweep of her hand.
“Oh, we already know about the attempted assassination of the Duke. Do be quiet and let Rex speak. Blasted men, thinking they are the only ones who know things.”
Under other circumstances, the utter shock and horror on both men’s faces would have been amusing. Ignoring them, Rex opened the note Miss Davis had passed him and frowned.
“But Lucas is not part of this,” he said, thrusting the note toward Browne. “You said he was not.”
“He is not, though we think he might know something. He has been spending an awful lot of time with the Russians,” Jones said. “Mitchell finally ran him to ground and approached him the other day, but Devon brushed him off. Did not want anything to do with him or anything he had to say.”
“Cannot blame him,” Browne muttered, then sighed. “But Mitchell was the only one who had been able to find him. The man is remarkably good at hiding.”
“The earl was not the man with the gun, anyway,” Miss Davis said irritably, interrupting them. She leaned forward, addressing Rex, and ignoring the other two. Jones frowned down at her, unhappy with being so roundly dismissed. “Mary recognized him, enough to go with him, but we did not think to ask for his name.”
“What did he look like?” Jones asked before Rex could. Miss Davis was not the one to answer, and she did not look up at him, focusing on Miss Pennyworth as her friend spoke.
“Tallish, slender, blond hair,” Miss Pennyworth said, waving her hand, her voice as tense and tight as Miss Davis’ had been. “I do not think he was ton.”
“Nondescript is what I would say,” Miss Davis added on. “The kind of man who blends in easily.”
“Collins.” While the description was not much, considering what he knew now, Rex felt it in his gut. Collins had his wife. Where?
“Hopefully, we will know soon,” Miss Davis said, surprising Rex. He was so overset, he had not realized he had spoken aloud. Every muscle of his body was tensed, ready for action, but he did not yet know which way to spring. “There were some children outside the shop. When we saw the gun, we went running out, but it was too late.”
“I told the children to follow the carriage, then come here to tell us where it went for half a crown each.” Miss Pennyworth said grimly. She and Miss Davis exchanged a look. “As long as it does not leave London…”
“For half a crown each, they might follow it beyond the city limits, but I hope it will not be necessary,” Miss Davis said, rubbing the sides of her head, her pinched expression filled with worry.
Frustrated, Rex paced the room while the others discussed what would happen once the street children arrived. If they arrived. They should, as Miss Davis had said. Hell, Rex would give them a whole crown each if they led him to Mary, hale and hearty. Miss Pennyworth and Miss Davis wanted to accompany any rescue attempt, but the Captains thought they should remain here.
Rex did not particularly care what they did, as long as their presence did not further endanger Mary. What the devil had she been thinking? Yet, as if he could see her in his mind’s eye, he knew exactly what she had been thinking. She wanted to help Lucas because she knew Rex would want to help Lucas.
When he had her in his arms again, he would impress upon her that her own safety came before everything else. That was what he wanted most in the world. He did not know what he wanted to do more—hug her tightly to him and never let go or blister her bottom for being so careless with her safety.
The bell to the front door rang out, causing an exodus. Rex had already sent Cormack to stand ready, and Mrs. Maple was down by the kitchen door in case the urchins went there instead. But to the front door, they had come, huddled together as if they could not quite believe their own temerity.
“Fourteen Jermyn Street,” the oldest looking of them was telling Cormack when Rex came rushing up, the others hurrying behind him. Slightly unnerved by the sight of an actual lord, the boy stepped back, closer to his companions.
“Lucas’ house,” Rex said, shocked. The devil? No matter. The why was not important—knowing where Mary had gone was. “Did you see a woman?”
“Nay, m’lord. Once it stopped, we came running here.”
Good enough, though Rex wished they were able to tell him if Mary was unharmed. Granted, that could have changed in the time it took to get them here. Thankfully, Lucas’ residence was not too far from his own.
“Thank you. Give them a pound each, split apart into small coins,” he instructed Cormack before turning away, aware of the children’s shock over their good fortune. Browne and Jones looked back at him grimly, and the two ladies stubbornly raised their chins. “I am leaving. Now. I do not care who comes and who does not, as long as Mary is safe at the end of this.”
Mary
“There.” Collins quickly finished tying Mary’s wrists behind the back of the chair he had tied her to. It had not taken him long—he was in a rush—but the ropes were far tighter than she would have liked.
The parlor he had shoved her into was sparsely furnished, the space clearly a bachelor’s with no sign of a woman’s touch. The chair she was tied to was utilitarian and dismayingly sturdy. Mary bit her lip as Collins stepped back, thankful to still be alive and worried he was going to shoot her now.
There were windows along one side of the room, but the curtains were drawn, so that was no help. Try as she might, Mary could not hear anyone moving about the house. Perhaps there were no servants, or they were all out of the house, or perhaps Collins had already done away with them. Mary fervently hoped for one of the first two options.
“Stay right where you are now,” Collins said as if it was a joke. The almost manic grin on his face made her shudder. The man was even a better actor than her. Mary had spent much of her life covering up her real self, but Collins was clearly a master. She would have never guessed such evil lay beneath his previously placid exterior. “I will return momentarily.”
Lucas. He was going to get Lucas. After that, Mary was sure her chances to escape would be finished, as would she and Lucas. The moment Collins left the room, Mary began struggling with the ropes. Despair rose, along with tears, blurring her vision when they held fast. Even though Collins had done the knots quickly, he was apparently proficient.
She jerked harder on the ropes, gasping with relief when she felt them give a little… but this was taking too long.
Movement startled her, someone hurrying into the room, moving far faster than Collins had. Mary jerked back against the chair, her head swinging up as she tried to focus through her tears.
“Evie!” If she had had any breath left in her lungs, she would have shouted her friend’s name. Dress
ed in servants’ garb, dirt smudging one of her cheeks, she had a large knife in one hand and a forbidding expression on her face. “What are you doing here?”
“Working,” Evie said, quickly moving behind Mary. “Pull your wrists apart to make the ropes taut. Hurry, I do not think we have much time.”
Mary strained her arms and felt the ropes shift as Evie began to cut them. Almost immediately, the hold on them loosened.
“Working? For your uncle or…”
Evie snorted.
“For Lucas. His manservant hired me to do some of the cleaning and things while he searches for his master. I figured the earl had to return here eventually, and none of the other households I was interested in were hiring, so it worked well enough.”
“Lucas is not the traitor,” Mary started to say as she got to her feet, rubbing her wrists. She turned to face her friend, who was frowning in consternation.
“No? Then he is not working with the man who dragged you in here?”
“Hardly. Collins went to get Lucas. He got Lucas so drunk, he is barely lucid, then he brought both of us back here.”
Before Mary could say more, they heard the opening of the front door and a man cursing. It sounded like Collins. There was a moan, Lucas, then more cursing. Drunk as he was, Lucas was still managing to give the other man trouble.
“Quick! Sit back down, pretend you are still tied up,” Evie whispered, darting across the room to stand behind the door. Mary scrambled back into position, watching as Evie paused to pick up a fire poker before taking up position where Collins would not be able to see her.
The tension in the room felt far greater than it had when Mary had actually been tied up.
She was relieved to see Collins was no longer holding the gun when he finally came into view—his hands were full of Lucas. The man had gone completely limp, deadweight, and Collins was dragging him bodily through the door. Looking up, Collins checked to see she was still where he left her before dropping his head again, breathing heavily and grunting as he pulled Lucas across the floor.
Drag.
Pause.
Drag.
Pause.
Behind the door, Evie lifted the fire poker but… with his back to Mary, as soon as he was clear of the door, Collins might lift his head and see her.
“Collins!” Mary jumped to her feet as noisily as she could, and Evie’s eyes widened with shock. Collins dropped Lucas on the ground and spun around, his mouth opening in shock when he saw her standing there, cut ropes dangling from her fingers.
“How did you…?” Collins lunged toward her, hands outstretched, and Mary finally screamed and turned, grabbing the chair and holding it in front of her as a shield. Evie swung the poker, catching Collins across the back. Howling, he stumbled, and Mary screamed again—a warrior’s cry this time—swinging the chair at him.
The sturdy wood furnishing slammed into his face and chest. Mary’s muscles strained, and she could not maintain her grip. The chair was so heavy, it was a wonder she had managed to lift it. Letting go, the momentum of the chair sent him reeling back, hand clutching his face where one of the legs had nearly impaled his eye.
Evie swung the poker again, catching Collins on the back of his knees, and he went down hard. Hand still over his eye, his legs flew out from under him, making a comical picture as he fell backward, landing headfirst with a terrible crash. Mary actually winced, though he did not deserve her sympathy. That had looked excessively painful and possibly, fatal.
Kneeling, Evie tilted her head above his lips, one hand on his chest. After a moment, she looked up at Mary. “Alive. Though he likely needs a doctor.”
“Should we tie him up?” Mary lifted up the long strands of the rope she was still holding. Evie only considered the question for a moment.
“Might as well. You tie him up, and I will keep watch out the front in case he has an accomplice coming.”
Mary shivered. One traitor was bad enough, surely, but she did not argue with Evie. This was an arena in which Evie had far more experience. Kneeling to tie Collins’ wrists together, she glanced over at Lucas’ supine body. His breathing looked to be even and heavy… Had he slept through the whole fracas? Amused, now that the danger was past, Mary gave herself a shake, breathing out a sigh of relief.
Only for alarm to flare again when Evie came rushing back to the door. The expression on her face was like nothing Mary had seen before—not exactly frightened, but worried and anxious, perhaps a touch panicked.
“I have to go. He’s here. I cannot let him see me. You will be fine. I will see you on Sunday!” Evie spoke the words so fast, it took Mary a moment to understand everything she said, and her friend was gone before Mary could reply. Still kneeling beside Collins, Mary stared at the empty doorway, trying to figure out what had just happened.
A loud knocking at the front door was her first clue. Josie and Lily must have gone to get Rex… perhaps he had come with Elijah or one of the other Stuarts? Mary could not think of anyone else Evie would want to hide from. Getting to her feet, she stepped over Lucas—trying not to feel too guilty since she really was fairly sure he was sleeping off his drink—and hurried to the front door.
Yanking it open, she was met with a somber, glowering husband. When he saw her standing there, his expression turned stunned. He pulled her into his arms, squeezing her so tightly, she could barely breathe. So much of the fear and anxiousness she had pent up began to shake free, and she almost began crying when she felt his strong body against hers, holding her and keeping her safe, the familiar smell of his cologne making her brain say ‘home.’
It was one long, gloriously comforting moment, then she felt his muscles stiffen, and he straightened, glaring down at her.
“You are in so much trouble, petal.”
Oh, bother.
Chapter 25
Rex
Refusing to relinquish his hold, Rex kept his arm wrapped around Mary as she led the party into Lucas’ drawing-room, where the man himself was lightly snoring on the floor. Collins was also on the floor, but his state was not nearly so peaceful, and despite being unconscious, he was moaning in pain. Rex was more than a little tempted to add to the man’s agony. He had arrived ready to do battle and instead found his wife unharmed—for which he was grateful, and the villain defeated—for which he should be grateful but found himself frustrated and disappointed.
No longer confined to the carriage with Cormack, now that they were assured there was no danger, Misses Pennyworth and Davis had fallen all over themselves, alternatively ministering to and scolding Mary.
“Oh, look, your poor wrists!” Miss Pennyworth exclaimed, causing Rex to lean over to see as well. Truthfully, Mary had not looked much worse for the wear. Her skirts were a bit creased, and a few strands of hair had come undone from her coiffure, but he had not detected any hurt to her person. That a wound had been discovered enraged him.
“It does not hurt.” Mary shrugged, but the red marks on her delicate wrists, where she had clearly been bound at one point, did nothing to soothe Rex’s ire. He turned his glare to the man lying on the floor, unconscious but groaning. Rex was the only one allowed to put marks like that on Mary and for an entirely different reason.
“Who cut the ropes?” Browne asked, holding up the severed lengths and frowning. He had been prowling the room for the past several minutes, taking in the scene.
“Evie.” Mary looked around, her brow wrinkling. “Is Elijah not with you?”
“Who is Evie?” Browne and Jones asked at the same time, both halting in their movements, focusing on Mary with similar sharp-eyed gazes.
“Stuart’s niece,” Rex supplied when all three ladies’ lips clamped tightly shut. Three feminine gazes of outrage swung to glare at him. Rex glared right back. He did not have the patience for their secrets right now, and telling Browne and Jones did nothing to endanger Evie.
“Stuart has a niece?” Jones asked blankly. Browne looked just as confused. The ladies relaxed, goin
g back to focusing on Mary.
“One who would like to be more involved in his investigations, I gather.” Something which he doubted the spymaster approved of, but Miss Stuart was not Rex’s problem—Mary was. Speaking of which. Rex tightened his hold on his wife. “If you will excuse us, Mary and I are going home.”
“But… Wait! What is going to happen to Collins? To Lucas?” Mary tried to pull away, but Rex’s grip was unyielding, and his strength far outmatched hers. “I want to stay!”
“I am sure your friends will catch you up later,” he said, cutting off what looked like would have been an intervention by those same friends. Miss Pennyworth’s eyes narrowed at him, but she did not protest when he met her gaze evenly before turning back to his wife. “You and I have some things to discuss, like putting yourself in unnecessary danger. Having to wait to know what’s happening will be part of your punishment for making the rest of us wait to know what had happened to you.”
That did it. Both of Mary’s friends rocked back on their heels, and Miss Davis even nodded her head in firm agreement. Neither of them was happy about Mary’s actions and thought having to wait to have her curiosity satisfied equitable retribution for the distress they had suffered when she had hied off on her own. Betrayed, Mary scowled at her friends, but neither of them said a word as Rex escorted her out the door.
Mary
Feeling very much like pouting, but trying not to, Mary was led back into Hartford House. She knew Rex was right. She had behaved impulsively, and she regretted her impetuous decision. It had not been like her at all. The only excuse she could think of was she had become caught up in the moment.
“What the devil were you thinking?!” The moment their bedroom door shut behind him—truly it was his room, but since Mary slept in his bed every night, she had begun to think of it as their room—the lecture Rex had been holding back since finding her in Lucas’ residence began to flow. Mary had known he was biting his tongue the whole time. “Or were you not thinking? What possessed you to go with Collins based on a note? Especially a note from Lucas, who you already suspected of being a traitor?”
