She slowly made her way upstairs and into Gwen’s room. Gwen was folding one of her gowns into a bag. “Did Chris leave?”
Hannah nodded. “Yes, but something’s going on. We need to figure out a way out of here, quickly and quietly.”
“Yes, all right.” Gwen closed the bag and grinned. “The front door works nicely.”
Hannah sighed. “Another place, another time, I’d laugh, Gwen, but we need a way out from up here. The front and servants’ stairs are blocked.”
“Oh. There’s a modified trellis off the second floor, but I don’t know how sturdy it is,” she whispered. “Do we really need to be so dramatic?”
“We’ll need to try. I have a feeling more men will be arriving shortly.” Just as she predicted, she heard loud voices downstairs and then feet ascending the stairs. “Let’s go,” Hannah whispered and slid the window up.
While Gwen climbed over the sill, Hannah removed her skirt, revealing the jeans she’d worn underneath. She slid the gun into the waistband of her pants and followed Gwen, quietly closing the window behind her. They made it to what looked like a makeshift ladder, and Hannah had a serious case of déjà vu. “You go first, Gwen.”
“Why me?”
“Because I’m the one with a gun and can shoot anyone who comes at me.”
Gwen’s eyes widened in fright, but she didn’t argue as she sat down and rolled onto her stomach. She scooted her body feet first over the side of the roof and started her way down.
“Halt!”
Hannah, startled by the angry voice, lost her hold, and her foot slipped out from under her. She attempted to grab at anything that might hold her. Gwen screamed when Hannah nearly rolled off the edge, but Hannah somehow stopped her body from going all the way over. She caught one of the shingles and pulled herself up so that she could get herself situated safely. She peered over the side and whispered, “Gwen, get help. Go through the neighbor’s gate and run.”
“What about you?”
“If you don’t get out of here, we’ll both be caught.”
Gwen nodded and took off. Hannah shook. As terrified as she was of heights, she knew she had to get to the ground or she’d be a sitting duck. She slid her legs over the edge and tried to shimmy down further, looking for a place to set her foot. She was too slow.
“Where do you think you’re going?” an angry voice said as rough hands yanked her up by her hair.
Hannah screamed in pain as the man dragged her up and back across the roof. In his haste to haul her up the ladder, her face slammed into the side of the house. She checked her jaw as he shoved her through the now open window and into the guest room. It hurt and she could taste blood from a split lip, but she was confident nothing was broken.
The man was of average height and stocky. His dark hair and skin reminded her of Jack Black. A cape, mask, and wrestler name, and he’d be ready for the Luche Librē.
She still had the gun in her waistband, hidden underneath her long blouse. She needed to determine who else was in the house. She only had one shot and had to make it count.
She slowly walked through the room and down the stairs, his gun at her back the entire time. She was frustrated she’d slipped the gun into the back of her jeans; the front would have been so much more convenient. She slid her hands over her back to make sure her blouse still covered the gun.
“Don’t move,” he accused, pushing the gun deeper into her back.
Satisfied he couldn’t see the gun, she clasped her hands in front of her. Entering the parlor, she kept her head bowed but used her peripheral vision to count how many people were around her. She saw two other men and a woman... not just any woman... Delilah.
The other men wore masks, so she tried to study other identifying markers. Luckily, one of them was close enough to her that she could get a handle on a few details. He was a few inches under six feet, he held a gun down at his side, and his forefinger caressed it as though it were a small animal. She noticed a glimmer on his finger and saw a ring teetering just above his knuckle. The ring was silver, with what looked half of a watch face. She didn’t get a chance to glean more, as the man holding the gun on her pushed her further into the room.
A further sweep didn’t bring into view the one who’d come to fix the door, but she wasn’t naïve enough to assume he wasn’t lurking somewhere. The room, still bloody from whatever had happened earlier, made her nausea rush to the surface. She swallowed and tried to ignore her stomach.
“Turn around,” the luchador ordered.
Hannah turned slowly and waited for him to lower his weapon in order to bind her. As soon as he’d slipped his gun into his waistband, she attacked. Slamming the base of her palm in an upward motion brought the sound of his nose breaking, and her knee in his groin left him more than momentarily incapacitated. He dropped to the floor, groaning in agony, and she reached behind her, drew her gun, and pointed it at the other two men before they could get over their shock. “Drop your weapons,” she warned.
The man with the ring ran out the door and Hannah was forced to focus on the other one. “Bugger!”
* * *
Christopher stood watching the house, trying to rein in his emotions. Gwen had caught him as he and Sam came back from the offices and rushed to explain what had happened. They could only assume that Hannah was inside the house, but no one knew how many were with her. He couldn’t barrel in there, or they might kill her outright. He had to calm himself and think logically, which was difficult with his beloved in danger. Andrew and Walter caught up with him as they cased the house.
“What do we know?” Walter asked.
Christopher dragged shaking hands down his face. “We know Hannah’s inside.”
“What’s the plan?” Walter whispered.
“I’m going to let myself in through the kitchen—”
The sound of a gunshot cut off any rational thinking, and Christopher rushed the house. Slamming the front door open, he barreled into the foyer.
“You shot me!” a voice yelled from the parlor.
“I told you to lower your weapon, mate. I was pretty clear on that fact,” Hannah snapped.
Christopher poked his head around the corner and scowled. Hannah stood over one man groaning on the floor, while pointing the gun Christopher gave her earlier on a man holding a bloodied wrist against his chest. Delilah whimpered in the corner, a handkerchief in her hand.
“Hannah?”
“Hi, honey.” Hannah glanced over at him. “Nice of you to join me. One of the men escaped. He was wearing a hood, but I’m sure he’s disposed of it. Look for a dark suit and brown riding boots. And then, would you please take out the trash?”
“Someone find him,” Christopher yelled and then secured the man Hannah was standing over.
Walter rushed to the bleeding man. He pulled the man’s mask off and scowled. “Thomas Burkett. Why am I not surprised?”
Thomas sneered.
Christopher turned to Hannah. His heart raced. “Sweetheart, what happened to your face?”
“Nothing... it’s a scratch.” Hannah sighed as he lifted the groaning man from the floor. “We can talk about it later. Just get these people out of my house.”
Walter gathered the injured men and secured them in the foyer to await the authorities.
Christopher took the gun from Hannah and slipped it into his waistband. “Are you all right?”
Hannah nodded. Christopher made his way to Delilah.
“Christopher, I’m certain we can work something out.” Delilah stepped back, hands raised. “It’s all been a terrible misunderstanding.”
“I’m sure it was, Delilah,” Christopher droned as he tied Delilah’s hands behind her and guided her toward the door.
Andrew rushed into the room. “No sign of him, Chris. He’s gone.”
“What do you mean, he’s gone? He can’t have just disappeared.”
“Well, he did.”
“Expand the search,” Christopher ordered.
<
br /> Andrew nodded and left them again.
“Those men forced me to come with them.” Delilah yanked at her restraints. “They threatened my parents.”
Christopher rolled his eyes and dragged her out to the foyer, handing her off to Walter. Sam had returned and Christopher did his best not to break his arm as he dragged him into his office. “I asked you to keep a man on the house.”
* * *
Hannah sat in one of the chairs by the fireplace, exhausted, nauseous, and dealing with a throbbing head. She would have liked to intervene on Sam’s behalf, but she was too tired to protest. She groaned when an entirely different argument escalated in volume as the front door opened and closed with unnecessary force.
“Let me go!” Gwen bellowed.
“Gwendolyn, please listen to me. I don’t know if it’s safe.”
“Andrew Ambrose Simmonds, release me immediately,” Gwen snapped.
Hannah gripped her head and was wishing them away when she heard Christopher’s voice draw closer. “The house is safe, Andrew. You can release my sister.”
Sharp pain shot through her temples as she took deep breaths in an effort to control her nausea.
“Hannah?”
Hannah grimaced as she opened her eyes. “Hm?”
Christopher knelt in front of her and swept her hair away from her forehead. “Let’s get you to Clayton’s. I’m taking you to Harrisburg in the morning.”
Hannah frowned. “I won’t go without you.”
He smiled. “You won’t have to.”
Dizziness seized her and she stumbled as she stood.
Christopher wrapped his arm firmly around her waist and held her close. “Take deep breaths.”
Hannah buried her face in his chest and nodded. “My head hurts... and my face.”
Christopher scooped her into his arms and started for the stairs. “Let’s get you upstairs and back into decent clothes.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck and let him carry her upstairs without protest. Setting her down gently on their bed, he lit the lamps and pulled a day dress from the armoire. Hannah slid out of her boots and jeans and padded to the pitcher and bowl on the bureau. She squeezed her eyes shut when she heard Christopher curse.
“What happened?”
Hannah glanced down at her thigh and sighed. “I slipped on the roof, I guess.”
“You slipped on the roof?” he snapped. “What the hell were you doing on the roof?”
She shook her head. “Oh, no. I’m not going there.”
He closed the distance between them. “Tell me, Hannah.”
“Only if you’ll promise you won’t freak out.”
He frowned. “I won’t freak out.”
She relayed the escape attempt, including the slip from the roof.
He laid his hand on her abdomen. “Did you land on your stomach?”
“No, I shifted...” she pointed to her side and grinned, “... hence the bruise down my thigh.”
Christopher lifted her chin and narrowed his eyes. “Do not make light of this.”
“Sorry.” She smiled. “Ow. I forgot about my lip.”
He poured water into the bowl and grabbed a washcloth. As he gently dabbed at her lip, Hannah tried to smile again. “Knight, I’m fine. The baby’s fine. I just got caught in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“I should have stayed.”
“I told you to go.” Hannah took the washcloth from his hand. “We both thought it was over.”
“I still should have stayed.”
“Knight, you need to stop.” She laid her palm on his chest. “Kiwis are made of tougher stuff.”
“Kiwis?”
“Native bird of New Zealand and what we’re called as a nation. A nickname, if you will. Anyway, we don’t run when faced with adversity. These little bruises are nothing, and I kicked his ass.” She cupped his cheek. “I’ll heal.”
“Sweetheart...”
She faltered. “... but I’ll heal faster if I sit down.”
Guilt written in the tightness of his expression, Christopher helped her to the bed. “What can I do?”
“You can stop looking so guilty.” Hannah took a few deep breaths and took his hand. “And maybe get me a couple of the pills from my bag.”
He located her bag and looked inside, finding all sorts of strange things in it. “What am I looking for?”
“A plastic bottle with the word ‘Tylenol’ written in red. Yes, that’s the one. And there’s another bottle in there.” She nodded when he held it up. “Yes. I need two of the white pills and one of the yellow.”
Once she took the pills and changed into what Christopher deemed appropriate, she finished packing and followed him down the stairs.
CHRISTOPHER AND ANDREW loaded their bags while Hannah joined Gwen in the carriage. Andrew drove, which gave Hannah the chance to cuddle close to Christopher and take refuge in his large frame. She didn’t remember falling asleep when Christopher shook her awake by lifting her into his arms. “Are we home?”
Christopher smiled. “For now. Would you like a bath or bed?”
Hannah sighed and kissed his neck. “Bed.”
He carried her up to the bedroom they were using and settled her on the mattress. Hannah yawned and started to unbutton her jacket. “I don’t fully get why I had to put all these clothes on to travel three miles away.” Christopher didn’t respond as he lit a few candles and retrieved a nightgown from one of the bags. “Knight?”
“Yes.”
“Are you okay?” He nodded as he stepped to the bed and assisted her with her corset. Once she donned her nightgown, she took his hand and kissed it. “You must be exhausted.”
“I’m fine, sweetheart.”
“What time are we leaving tomorrow?”
“Early.” Christopher pulled the covers back and waited for her climb under them.
“You don’t have to stay with me.” Hannah yawned. “I’m sure you have things you need to do.”
He climbed in beside her. “The only thing I have to do is take care of my wife. So lie down and sleep, beautiful.”
Smiling, she fell asleep almost immediately and didn’t wake up again until the morning.
* * *
Christopher woke Hannah at six, and left the room briefly. Hannah splashed cold water on her face and grimaced at the bruise turning nasty shades of purple on her face. She found her makeup bag and did her best to mask it, almost getting caught by Christopher when he returned with breakfast.
Once Hannah had sufficiently soothed Christopher’s concern about the other bruises forming on her body, they took off to the depot, arriving just in time to catch their train. The trip was quick, and when whistle blew indicating Harrisburg Station, Hannah couldn’t wait to see her sisters and was having a difficult time sitting still in the carriage.
“Sweetheart, relax. We’ll be there soon.” Christopher lifted her hand to his lips.
They finally pulled up in front of the Wades’ home, and Christopher helped Hannah down. Emma came running, obviously surprised to see her. “What happened?”
Hannah grinned as she hugged Emma. “I totally took out a bad guy.”
Emma’s eyes narrowed. “With your face?”
“What do you mean?”
“Is that foundation?” Emma whispered.
Hannah nodded and filled her in on the way to the parlor. Flopping onto the couch next to Emma, she kicked off her shoes and tucked her feet under her skirts. “Where’s Sophie?”
“Jamie took her out to the barn. She started to have contractions, so she’s trying to walk the baby out.” Emma sighed. “She’s been walking that freakin’ baby out for two days now.”
Hannah laid her hands on her stomach and grimaced. “I’m not sure I want to know.”
“Tell me about the guy who got away.”
Hannah leaned her head in her palm. “Not much to tell. You know me; I always try to notice the details, and what I remember is that the ring had a melt
ing watch face. What was weird was the gun. I could have sworn it wasn’t Civil War issue, but it didn’t look like anything I’d ever seen before either.”
Emma gasped and sat forward. “Wait. Was the ring platinum?”
Hannah narrowed her eyes. “Could have been. It looked silver.”
“Did it have kind of a square face, not round like you’d see on a normal clock or watch?”
Hannah sat up on her knees. “Emma... have you seen it before?”
She bobbed her head up and down. “Madame wears one.”
Hannah shrugged. “So?”
“Hannah. Madame is the facilitator of the time portal. What if the man wearing the ring can travel too?”
“Emma! For once your conspiracy theorist mind might actually be onto something.”
Emma smacked her gently with a pillow. “Shall I summon her?”
Hannah nodded. “Yes!”
Christopher strolled into the parlor with Clayton behind him and took a seat across from Hannah. “Knight, you have to hear what Emma and I have come up with.”
Before he could respond, Gwen rushed in a few minutes later, Andrew on her heels.
“Christopher, Clay,” Andrew waved a letter toward them. “I need to speak with you.”
Christopher stood and then leaned down to kiss Hannah’s cheek. “You can tell me after I’ve spoken with Andrew.”
“But—”
“I won’t be long.” He followed Clayton and Andrew out of the room.
Emma patted her knee. “It can keep for an hour, Han. Just rest for a bit. It’s been a big day.”
Hannah sighed and sank further into the couch.
“Hello everyone!” Sophie said from the doorway.
“Speak of the devil.” Hannah grinned as Sophie waddled in. “How are you feeling?”
“Ugh, speak of the whale, you mean. Ready to get this baby out.” Sophie glanced at Hannah and gasped. “What happened to your face?”
“Bad guys,” Hannah muttered.
“Oh, no!” Sophie sat on the sofa. “Are you okay?”
Hannah waved her hand dismissively. “Totally. You should see the other guy.”
Sophie rolled her eyes. “Jamie’s gonna want to hear all about it later and then brag that he taught you everything you know.”
The Bride Spy Page 30
