As he rushed out into the misty morning, his heart pounded in his chest. Nothing must harm Amanda was his only thought.
The clap of his feet on wet cobblestones echoed through the empty streets. A dozen plans and scenarios flashed through his mind. But none of them were worth a damn. Not until he knew what Hicks intended.
As he turned onto Hicks’s street he slid to a halt, his chest pumping in air as he leaned over to catch his breath. His strength had not fully returned from the shooting, but it would be enough, he told himself. Enough to strangle Hicks.
“M’Lord?” a hesitant voice called from the shadows.
Lord Warwick turned to find one of Sanderson’s men, Hanson, he believed, stepping towards him, a confused frown on his face. He knew he must look a fright. White shirt, pantaloons and boots, Hair unkempt and a face that told the world he was half mad.
“Tonight, … A woman …” Warwick began as he fought to gulp in air.
Sanderson’s man continued to frown as he nodded. “Yes, sir. A woman did arrive, several hours ago, she has not yet left.”
“Beautiful, … Spectacles?”
The man nodded.
Warwick’s stomach sank into an abyss. Hicks had her. There was no longer any doubt. Suddenly a wave of despair passed over him. If he had lost her, he had lost his reason for living.
“Give me your pistol,” he told the man as he held out his hand. Hanson’s brow narrowed for a moment then he reached under his coat and removed his weapon, handing it over butt first.
“Stay out here,” Warwick said as he tucked the pistol into his left boot. Standing up, he marched down the street and up to the door of his enemy.
Banging the brass knocker, he stepped back and waited. Please, he begged, please make her safe.
The door cracked open and he pushed himself in. “Where is he?” he demanded.
The butler looked at him as if he were a demon rising up from the mist to take his soul.
“Never mind,” he said as he shoved past the servant. “I will find him.”
“Hicks!” he yelled at the top of his lungs.
“Lord Hicks is in his study,” the butler said, indicating a door to the right. “Who may I say is calling on him?”
Lord Warwick continued to ignore the butler and took four long strides to the door. He stopped for a moment to gather himself then threw it open and stepped inside.
Amanda, she was alive. His heart began beating again.
He ignored everything as his eyes hurriedly scanned over her, looking for injuries or harm. Finding none, he finally came to rest on her face and said, “I am sorry my dear.”
She smiled up at him, and his heart melted. Her eyes told him all he needed to know. She was as strong as ever.
She was seated on a wooden chair by the French doors leading out to the garden. Her hands bound in front of her. Situated in the most prominent part of the room, he realized. Almost like a prize being displayed.
“John,” she said. One simple word that held so much meaning.
Turning, he examined the room. A man, obviously belonging to Lord Hicks, stood to the side waving a pistol back and forth between Amanda and himself. The man’s eyes narrowed as he took a step back to better cover both of them.
Warwick’s guts turned to stone every time the barrel of the weapon swung towards Amanda.
Ignoring the man for a moment, he twisted to address Lord Hicks. The British Lord held his head up as he slowly smiled.
“You were much quicker than I anticipated,” Hicks said with that feral smile of his that turned Warwick’s insides to jelly. That was the look of a cornered animal. An animal that would strike out and kill anyone it could before it was taken down.
“What are your demands?” Warwick said, there was no use for small talk, not at a time like this.
Hicks smiled and shrugged his shoulders. “It is simple. I fully realize that if I am taken, I will be executed. Miss Waters is my assurance that will not happen. I have a fishing yawl on the Thames waiting for me. More than enough for us to reach France safely.”
Warwick frowned. “You do realize that if you hurt her, you die instantly.”
Lord Hicks laughed, “Of course.”
“Good,” Warwick said as he nodded his head. “I just wanted to make sure you realize that.”
Lord Warwick took a calming breath as he fought to slow his racing heart. He would need a steady hand.
He paused for a moment, then, as Hicks’ man brought his pistol away from Amanda and back towards him. Lord Warwick reacted. Pulling his own pistol from his belt, he lifted it, extended his arm, and shot the man square in the forehead.
The explosion was particularly loud in the small room as it echoed over and over in his ears. The acrid smoke burned his eyes and blocked his view for the briefest of seconds. Reaching down he started to pull his second pistol.
“No,” Hicks said with a cold voice.
Warwick pushed aside the smoke to find Hicks holding a straight razor to Amanda’s throat. Freezing, he judged the situation and realized he could not kill Hicks in time. The man’s eyes never left his. Every nerve was ready to act.
The two men stared at each other for a long moment then slowly, Warwick pulled his eyes away to look at Amanda.
The look of terror in her eyes tore at his soul. The razor had left a slight red line over her pounding pulse. No, he would not lose her. No.
Slowly lifting up, he made sure that Hicks saw his empty hand.
“Was that really necessary,” Hicks said, indicating the dead man lying on the floor, a small round hole in the center of his skull.
Warwick shrugged his shoulders. “We don’t need him. You and I can solve this. Tell me what you want.”
“Good,” Hicks said as he continued to hold the knife to Amanda’s throat. Warwick watched closely, the slightest hesitation or relaxation on Hicks’ part and he would act. But not yet. The man was too aware. Too desperate.
“Now, you will go outside and tell your men to disperse,” Hicks said. “Then, the three of us will leave and we are not to be followed. Do you understand?”
Warwick took a deep breath and slowly nodded. He would get his chance.
“And leave the pistol in your boot here,” Hicks demanded. “If I see you with a pistol in your hand, she dies. The knife in your boot as well.”
Warwick nodded as he slowly removed the weapons and laid them on the floor. Glancing up, he saw Hicks nod his approval. Lord Warwick stepped back. He would get his chance.
“You win,” he told the traitor. “You get away as long as Miss Waters lives. But as I told you earlier, she dies, you die.”
Hicks smiled back at him, those weasel eyes of his letting him know that he understood perfectly. He is pleased with himself, Warwick thought. The man believes he has won. Oh, what a fool.
He gave Amanda one last small smile, then turned to leave. His hand had barely touched the knob when he turned back to address Hicks.
“How did you know?” he asked. “About Miss Waters.”
Hicks’ smile grew even wider but the hand holding the blade didn’t waiver.
“Lady Simpson,” he said with an evil glint to his eyes.
Warwick frowned
“When you disappeared. She suggested she talk to Miss Waters. She came away believing that she had been deceived somehow.”
Warwick nodded.
“When you failed to materialize and there was no report of your body being found for over two weeks. I sent her back to Miss Waters.”
“She didn’t come back though,” Warwick said as he glanced at Amanda to confirm that fact.
Hicks laughed, “No, as she approached Miss Waters home, she passed a man on the street. A man she had sighted on this very street only the day before. He had a nasty scar straight through his eyebrow. She remembered it.”
Warwick’s stomach fell. It had been his fault. Why hadn’t he told Sanderson to make sure not to use the same men?
“Yes,” Hic
ks said. “Only you would have a man watching my house one day and then Miss Waters’ house the next. That protectiveness was your one weakness. You showed me the one thing that you would not sacrifice. And therefore, my way free.”
Warwick felt his world crash down around him. Amanda was in danger because of his mistake.
She stared up at him and said, “I am sorry.”
He frowned. That was so like her, apologizing for becoming the one thing he cared about in this world.
His jaw clenched as he stared into her eyes. “I will be right back. I promise.”
She nodded.
He pulled his gaze away from her and left the room. Hicks would die, it was only a matter of time. But nothing must harm Amanda, that was his priority now. Nothing must ever harm Amanda.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Lord Warwick stepped outside and took a deep calming breath. Steady, he told himself. Too much depended upon the next few minutes.
His mind raced over different possibilities. Different and varied plans that would result in Amanda being safe. One thing he knew, she could never be allowed to be taken to France, neither of them would survive the trip.
Hicks would kill them as soon as he was free.
Damn, why hadn’t he anticipated this? Why had he allowed Amanda to become involved?
Sighing, he tried to pull his mind away from the fear that was eating at his gut. He must focus. He must think of everything he had ever learned to find a way out of this mess.
How had Hicks defeated him? How was it possible? The man had no skills in matters such as this. He was able to gather information. That was his only talent. But the man had never been in a real fight. A knockdown, drag-out fight. He’d never faced a weapon as far as Lord Warwick knew. The man was a creature of his station in life. Others did his fighting for him.
And yet, the man had reacted so quickly when he had shot the henchman. Much faster than he had anticipated.
Yet, there was something in his eyes that told Warwick the man did not really understand what might happen.
Had the man ever really contemplated his own death. Had he come to accept it? No, even now, he believed he would get free. But then, that must surely be the personality of a traitor. He must always assume he will not fail.
Well, things were about to change, Lord Warwick thought as he smiled his own predatory smile. That was the problem. He had been reacting to the situation ever since Anderson gave him the word. No, he must take control. That was the only way.
Holding a hand up, he indicated that Hansen should come to him. Once his man was there, Warwick instructed him to gather the men in the rear of the house and fall back two blocks. He would come for them later.
Hansen frowned, obviously wanting to talk about the loud explosion earlier, but he was well trained and turned to carry out his assigned tasks.
Warwick waited until he was sure the men were away from the house and then scampered down the steps and around the side of the house.
Every few steps he froze in place for a moment, afraid he might be sighted. Glancing over his shoulder he sighed heavily, the sun would be coming up in a few minutes. If he was not careful he would be highlighted like a hare in a lamp’s glow.
No, he wasn’t going to march back in there and let Hicks take control. Instead, he worked his way around back and into the garden. This must be done with stealth and his own hands, in close.
Once he had reached the back of the house, he crouched down behind a thick rose bush and carefully watched the house. Hicks was there, his back to the window, his hand still at Amanda’s throat.
Time, he thought, give him time. The man had made so many mistakes already, it was only a matter of time.
Time and space, that was all he needed.
.o0o.
The cold steel next to her throat made it difficult to swallow. But Amanda refused to beg that the man pull back. No, she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.
Instead, she watched as Warwick left her. The man had come as she knew he would. Even now, she knew he was planning her rescue.
He’d walked into this harrowing situation without fear. Attacked the situation head-on. Glancing over at the dead man on the floor she suppressed a shudder. Warwick had killed him as if he was pinching a slug off a vine.
No regrets, no second thoughts. And in doing so, he had reduced his opponents.
Taking a slow, deep breath, she fought to find a way out. She knew Warwick, The man would try to sacrifice everything to set her free. She had seen it in his eyes.
While the thought sent a warm feeling through her body. To know that he cared that much. She also knew that she could not allow it. Under no circumstance could this traitor be allowed to go free. And most importantly, Warwick could not be put at risk. Not if she was to have any say in the matter.
Reaching up, she gently put her bound hands onto Lord Hicks’ arm and slowly pushed it away.
“He’s not here, you don’t need to hold it so close.”
Hicks laughed, and brought the blade back against her throat. The cold blade sending a terrifying message. “Let us say that I prefer it here. Lord Warwick has a bit of a reputation, after all.”
Amanda sighed internally. As long as the man held her like this, Warwick would do whatever was demanded of him.
Biting her lip, she sighed heavily and waited.
Please, she begged silently in her mind. Please keep him safe.
Distract him, she thought. Give Warwick a chance.
“Why?” she asked him. “Why betray your country? It couldn’t be for the money. Your family is wealthy.”
The hand holding the knife at her throat trembled for a moment.
“A title,” he said as he forced his hand to stop shaking. “The French would see me raised to a title of my own. I would no longer be known as the third son of a Duke. No, instead I would be a Duke in my own right. Do not forget, it was the Normans who created the first English Dukes. The French have invaded before.”
Amanda frowned. The man was mad.
Lord Hicks shrugged his shoulders. “It is well-known, the French will invade eventually. When they do, they will find many of us very welcoming. Better to be ruled by a French Emperor than these dastardly Hanovers and their German relatives.”
Amanda’s stomach tightened up, the man was mad if he thought the British people would welcome a Frenchman as their new ruler.
“But what about Russia?” she asked as she twisted slightly to look up at him.
He frowned as he looked off into the distance. She used the opportunity to pull back just a little, not enough to alert him, but enough to where the knife was no longer resting against her throat.
“A diversion,” he said, but the look in his eyes told her that it was a true concern. The French would never invade both Russia and Britain. Not at the same time. Even they couldn’t be that foolish.
Still, he looked off at nothing and again she pulled back, putting her hands up next to her neck between his blade and her tender throat.
Please, she thought. Now Warwick. Now is your chance.
The thought had no sooner crossed her mind than the French doors behind them exploded in a shower of glass and wood.
Amanda reacted without thinking, rolling out of the chair to the ground. Away from the man with the knife as her heart slammed into her chest.
Warwick, her Warwick had crashed through the door and into Hicks carrying him to the floor. The two men wrestled as Hicks tried to bring the blade up, slashing at her love. Warwick fought to get his hands around the man’s throat. The two of them twisting and rolling across the floor.
He had come, just as she knew he would. Her heart soared while her mind frantically searched for some way to help.
Hicks slashed backwards with the blade, catching Warwick on the back of his arm. Immediately, his white shirt began to turn crimson. Her heart dropped as she realized Warwick could still lose this fight. Desperate, she searched for any weapon to help.
Then she saw it, the pistol on the floor. The one that Warwick had removed from his boot. Scrambling to her feet, she hurried across the room.
Hicks saw it at the exact same moment. His free arm reached out to grab it. No! If he got it first, Warwick would die.
Scampering down to her knees, she reached the weapon first and smiled at him as she brought it up and held the barrel against the man’s head. Right between his eyes. The same spot, Warwick had shot the other man.
The weapon was heavier than she anticipated, but her hand didn’t shake, A realization that pleased her to no end.
“Please,” she said, “Please give me an excuse to kill you.”
Lord Hicks looked up into her eyes. Warwick froze, obviously afraid to disturb her unless the weapon go off. She stared back at the man on the floor, holding his stare, letting him know she was perfectly capable of doing it.
Finally, he slumped in on himself as his arms dropped to the ground.
Warwick barked out a quick laugh as he reached down and pushed the blade away then turned the man over, pulling his hands behind his back.
Amanda watched as Lord Warwick secured the prisoner, then held out her own hands so that he could take the pistol from her and cut her own bindings.
Once her hands were free, she stepped back as her entire body began to shake.
She had come close to killing a man, she realized. So, close. The thought refused to go away. She would have done it, pulled the trigger. There was no doubt in her mind. It would have been the only way to ensure Warwick’s safety.
“You, Miss Waters,” Lord Warwick said with a wide smile, “are most remarkable. Have I told you that lately?”
Her hands continued to shake until he pulled her into a tight embrace.
Yes, she thought. She was safe, he was safe. That was all that mattered as she sank into him. Yes, that was all that mattered.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
“Mum,” Molly called, interrupting Amanda’s reading. Oh, who was she fooling, she had been unable to read for the last hour, Her mind refused to focus.
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