No one, however, tried to stop her. The streets continued to appear deserted, or so it seemed, until she had almost reached her goal. Then a carriage came rattling down the street and halted not very far away from her.
Ariel moved even farther into the shadows. She could see men leaving the entrance to the museum, hoods over their heads, and moments later, two still bodies being carried from the carriage and through the door into the museum grounds. Where was the porter? she wondered. She moved closer and tried to set aside her shock and see more clearly who was being carried into the museum. It appeared to be two women, and Ariel could not help fearing that one must be Mrs. Merriweather. The other might very well have been the colonel’s aunt. It was not a pleasant thought. Particularly since neither woman stirred as she was carried inside.
It would have done no good to show herself, Ariel knew. The dagger in her pocket was unlikely to frighten these men. And even if she shot one with her pistol, the others would have no trouble capturing her afterward, in spite of the dagger. So she simply watched, hoping she would find a way to help.
After a few moments, the carriage set off down the street and around the comer, where it drew to a halt all but out of sight. Well, that reduced by one, at any rate, the number of men to be reckoned with. The rest of the men disappeared into the museum.
Ariel waited a moment, then slipped across the street. The porter was sound asleep, slumped against the doorway. When she could not wake him, Ariel hesitated. She ought to wait for Captain Stanfield, but if she did so, who knew what would happen to the two women? In the end, she went through the door after the others, but not before she dropped a lacy handkerchief where it gleamed brightly against the dark ground. If the men saw it, they would no doubt think it had fallen from one of the unconscious women. But Captain Stanfield, she hoped, would realize it meant she had been here and gone inside.
In spite of her hesitation, Ariel was in time to see the men and the two unconscious women enter a side door, rather than the main entrance of the museum. She followed, keeping to the shadows as much as she could, and found they had left the side door unlocked. That was convenient but implied that perhaps someone meant to use it again soon and she had best get out of sight as quickly as possible.
There were advantages to having spent so much time in the museum, both as a woman and a child. Ariel knew all the hiding places and all the different ways to get from one point to another, even in the dark. That gave her a great advantage over the others. The difficulty was to know what she should do first. Should she try to find the colonel or the Bow Street Runner and let them know what she had seen? Or should she try to find the women who had been carried in first?
The sensible answer was easy. She should find the two men. She should warn them about what she had seen and have their assistance in trying to rescue the women. The only difficulty with that was that she had no idea where they were inside the museum. How was she to find them without knowing or risking running into the others? They would, after all, be as careful as she was to keep to the shadows and make themselves hard to be seen. Nor could she blunder about, trying to get their attention, for the result would almost certainly be that she would end up in the wrong hands. It was a dilemma and one she needed to sort out quickly.
Ariel might or might not have been reassured to know that Captain Stanfield entered the museum not long after ! she did. He came in, however, by way of the front door. He had indeed found the handkerchief and correctly interpreted what it meant. He had also noted, with a frown, that the porter seemed sound asleep on the job. He could not rouse the fellow and he wasted very little time trying to do so. Instead, he hurried his steps toward the main entrance of the museum.
Once inside, he moved with the same stealth as Ariel, the same caution for the risk of being seen or heard. He moved more slowly, however, for he was not as familiar with the museum as she was. And he moved without any notion what his destination might be.
In the darkness, Colonel Merriweather felt a twinge of unease. Something felt very wrong here tonight. And yet, he had not heard or seen anything out of place. He was keeping guard over the main door. Collins, meanwhile, was upstairs at a window overlooking the courtyard, watching in case anyone should try to enter by another door.
Collins and Merriweather were supposed to have the place to themselves. Aside from the porter outside, no one else should be here, for Tom had not yet been replaced as night watchman. But the colonel reminded himself that no one had tried to enter tonight, at least not since he had come on guard. And if the Runner had seen anyone, surely he would have raised the alarm.
Still, the colonel felt that same twinge of unease again. Almost, he worried about Marian. But that was absurd! She was safely at the Duchess of Berenford’s ball, and after that she would go straight home. She had promised him that she would. So why the devil was he thinking of her just now? If he were to worry about anyone, he ought to worry about Captain Stanfield. Had the young man been able to follow Kinkaid? Were they on their way to the museum? If so, when were they most likely to arrive?
There was a motion at the front door, and the colonel drew his pistol just in case. He leaned back farther into the shadows and waited. Whoever it was, was about to suffer a severe shock, he thought with grim satisfaction.
Instead, it was the colonel who suffered the shock when he realized that the person entering the museum was Captain Stanfield, and that he was alone. He watched, thinking that perhaps the younger man was luring someone here, or that he was someone’s prisoner. But no one else came in, and after a moment the colonel frowned. Had he misjudged the younger man? Did he have plans of his own? The only way to find out, he decided, was to follow Stanfield deeper into the museum. With a sigh of disgust, he did so.
22
Marian gratefully accepted the knife from Lady Merri- weather and quickly used it to cut the rope from her ankles. She did not bother to ask where it came from. There would be time enough to discover that later, assuming they managed to leave safely. Once her ankles were free, she gave the knife back to Lady Merriweather who tucked it away under her skirts again.
Then with a touch on the arm, Lady Merriweather indicated that she wished to be going. Marian was not about to disagree. Together they silently rose to their feet and lifted their skirts so that they could move more quietly. Given that they had no notion where they were in the museum, it was not an easy thing to find their way without bumping into things. But neither woman wanted to remain where she was.
Unfortunately, they had not even reached the doorway when a lantern flashed in front of them once again. It was useless to try to hide, useless to pretend they were still tied at the ankles.
“Well, well,” the gentleman they had seen before said with what might almost have been approval in his voice. “You are more resourceful than I anticipated, Mrs. Merriweather. I shall be very sorry to have to kill you out of hand. But I will if you give me any more trouble. Or perhaps I will kill her, instead.”
This last was said in a menacing growl, and both women fell back when faced with his anger and the pistol in his hand. Over his shoulder, the gentleman snarled at someone to tie them up again.
“And this time tie their wrists behind them as well,” he ordered. Then, indicating Mrs. Merriweather, he added, “Search this one again. Look for a knife or other weapon. I do not trust her!”
In that moment, Marian was very glad she had given the knife back to Lady Merriweather. She only hoped the colonel’s aunt would find a chance to use it to good advantage. Not that she meant to let them tie her up at all, if she could help it. If the chance came, she would crash into the man reaching for her and try to dash past the gentleman with the lantern. Particularly if she could find a means to put the lantern out as she did so.
Lady Merriweather, it seemed, had precisely the same thought, for out of the corner of her eye, Marian saw her put out a foot and neatly trip the man reaching for her. Marian promptly grabbed the nearest object and thrust it
against her captor’s chest. Instinctively, he reached to grab it, and she darted past. Startled, the man with the lantern had no time to aim his pistol before Marian and Lady Merriweather both crashed into him, each from one side, sending his lantern to the floor where it went out.
And then they were past the villains. Both ladies moved as quickly as they could, all too aware of the shouts of outrage behind them. If they were caught, it would not be pleasant. But then, if they didn’t escape, if they didn’t run now, things would be just as unpleasant anyway. A moment later, as they passed a doorway, a small hand reached out and grabbed Marian’s sleeve. She would have struck at the person save that a whispered voice said, “It is I, Miss Hawthorne. Come this way, quickly!”
So instead of striking the person who grasped her arm, Marian reached out and grabbed Lady Merriweather’s. “This way,” she whispered, not stopping to argue.
They could have had no better guide, Marian thought, than Miss Hawthorne, to help them slip away from the men pursuing them. She was very glad to see that Lady Merriweather was quick-witted enough to agree and come without protest. It made her begin to wonder just how much had been the true Lady Merriweather and how much had been performance when the colonel’s aunt had been berating their captors.
Almost against her will, Marian found her estimation of the other lady rising rapidly. When all of this was over and resolved successfully, she hoped, she was going to have a great many questions to put to Lady Merriweather!
Captain Stanfield was growing more and more uneasy. He had seen no sign of Miss Hawthorne other than the handkerchief outside, and he was beginning to wonder if he was on a fool’s errand. And yet he could not simply leave, not when she might be in trouble or need him here.
Suddenly he heard shouts deep in the museum. The voices were those of men, not a woman, but William ran in that direction anyway. Either he would be in time to help capture the thieves or to rescue Miss Hawthorne. Though if those shouts were her doing, then she had perhaps taken care of that little matter herself.
Still, he did move with some caution, for it had occurred to him to wonder if the note really had been from Miss Hawthorne. Or whether it had been meant to lure him here to be captured. In that event, even the shouts ahead might be part of the plan. So he moved swiftly, but with caution.
Suddenly he heard a muffled sound behind him, as if someone had tripped, and he heard a soft cry of dismay. William turned and crouched, ready to fend off an attack. A moment later he realized that the person following him, who had fallen over some object, was Colonel Merriweather. Stanfield went and offered a hand to help him up.
The colonel muttered a soft curse and said, “What the devil are you doing here? You were supposed to be following Kinkaid!”
“I was handed a note from Miss Hawthorne asking me to meet her outside the museum,” Stanfield explained. “I could not take the chance she would be foolish enough to come inside alone if I failed her, and it seems, since I was late, she did, for I found her handkerchief on the ground in the doorway.”
The colonel cursed a trifle more fluently this time, but still softly. “Do you think she could be the cause of the shouts we heard?”
“That is my fear,” Stanfield agreed.
“Then we had best find out.”
The colonel took the lead and William allowed him to do so. The older man, after all, had spent more nights here in the museum than Stanfield and might know better how to proceed. Still, they moved with a caution that could not help but cause William to worry that they would not reach Miss Hawthorne in time—if they found her at all.
What if the noises ahead simply ceased? How would they find where anyone was? And then, just as Stanfield had that thought, the sounds did cease. He and the colonel immediately halted. “What now?” he whispered to Merriweather.
The colonel took a long time to answer. “I wish to heaven I knew! I also wish I knew what happened to our Bow Street Runner. Collins ought to have come and gotten me the moment they entered the museum. He was to be watching from an upstairs window in case they came in by another entrance. We’d best try to find him first. We could use another ally. Especially since it sounds to me like there are several scoundrels moving about the place.”
Stanfield nodded. He didn’t like the delay, but he could not argue with the common sense behind the plan. He only hoped that if Miss Hawthorne was here and a prisoner, she had somehow managed to slip free of her captors. Or, if not, that her captors did not yet mean to harm her.
In fact, it was Ariel, Mrs. Merriweather, and Lady Merriweather who found Collins first. They weren’t trying to do so. Indeed, they had no notion where he might be hiding. They were simply attempting to stay out of sight and reach of the villains pursuing them.
But when they slipped into a room that Ariel knew would take them to another part of the museum, she tripped over something that ought not to have been in the middle of the floor. It was, they all realized very quickly, the Bow Street Runner.
“Is he dead?” Ariel whispered to Mrs. Merriweather, who was feeling the man’s face.
“No, just stunned, I think. He seems to have a blow to the back of his head.”
“Here, use this under his nose. It might bring him around, if anything can,” Lady Merriweather whispered, holding out a tiny vinaigrette she must have been carrying in the reticule that hung from her wrist.
The smelling salts did indeed revive the injured Runner. He started to moan. Mrs. Merriweather promptly clapped a hand over his mouth. That caused him to begin to thrash about in earnest, and Ariel feared he would injure himself even further. Or worse, injure one of them by mistake.
“Quiet, Mr. Collins,” she hissed at him. “There are men here who mean to kill all of us, and you will bring them down upon our heads if you are not quiet!”
At the sound of her voice, the Runner instantly went very still. Mrs. Merriweather risked removing her hand and helped him to a sitting position. He looked at them in the darkness and shook his head.
“This oughtn’t to be ’appening,” he said in a whisper. “The colonel will ’ave me ’ead if ’e finds you ’ere.”
“In that case,” Lady Merriweather whispered in a
practical voice, “we had better get out of here so that he doesn’t, hadn’t we?”
The Runner started to nod, then stopped, obviously realizing it was not a motion his injured head would appreciate. Instead, he rose to his feet, leaning on both Ariel and Mrs. Merriweather for support.
The Runner was shrewd enough, however, to say to Ariel, “You lead the way, missy. You knows this place better’n the rest of us.”
“Hold hands. It will be too dark to see through much of the way,” Ariel warned.
When they were all in a line, holding hands, she began to lead them through the warren of rooms. She moved slowly, cautiously, for as well as she knew the place, Ariel could not remember the placement of every object, and she did not wish to risk any of them knocking over anything. She also kept to the walls as much as she could.
The Runner seemed to approve, for at one point he whispered, “Very wise, missy. If they does come inter the same room along of us, their lanterns won’t cast light to where we be ’iding. Very wise, indeed.”
Unfortunately, they needed luck as much as they needed wisdom. Ariel hoped that by leading her group toward a door other than the one by which they had all entered, she would evade the thieves and kidnappers. They would, presumably, expect the ladies to head for the nearest means of escape.
At one point she thought she heard a noise nearby. It could not have been her imagination because all of them froze into place at precisely the same moment, clearly alarmed by the same sound. Someone was moving about nearby. Ariel held her breath. Had they guessed what she meant to do? Or was it Captain Stanfield? Had he seen the handkerchief and followed her into the museum after all?
Ariel did not dare take the risk of finding out. First she must help to get Mrs. Merriweather and the colonel’s
aunt safely out of the museum. Only then could she think what to do about her appointment with Captain Stanfield and whatever it was that her father had left inside the stuffed giraffe.
So she stayed very still and waited. Only when it was clear that the sounds were moving away from them did she take another step, still leading her group toward a way out. They might well have made it, too, if she hadn’t tripped. And if Lady Merriweather’s skirts hadn’t gotten caught on some object and pulled it from its display. The object crashed down onto the floor.
They froze, the whole group, listening. Had they been heard? Were the villains close enough to the sound to follow it straight to them? Ariel hesitated, uncertain what to do next. She could hear something, but the sounds seemed to be coming both from behind and ahead of them. Without a word, she quickly drew her group to stand flat against the wall, and they all held their breath as someone, or perhaps more than one person, passed through the very room they were in. In the complete darkness, they could neither see nor be seen. Only when she was sure that whoever it was had not spotted them, did Ariel begin to move again.
Captain Stanfield heard a crash in one of the rooms ahead of them. He and the colonel moved quickly but cautiously in that direction.
There was more noise, voices now, and a distant gleam of light. William paused and felt the colonel stop beside him as well.
“Shall we stay put and let them come to us?” Stanfield suggested.
Miss Tibbles Interferes Page 19
