by Rebecca King
“Let’s get to work,” Connor grunted.
Rather than go outside, both men stood in the shadows in one of the rooms overlooking the gardens. They didn’t have to wait long before Isaac caught sight of the figure leaving the cover of a low branch. The man scurried to join his associate who was already standing beside the base of an old oak tree.
“They are going for the study,” Connor whispered. It was the only room on that side of the house with windows overlooking the side gardens.
When Connor moved toward the door, Isaac tapped him on the arm. They both watched a third figure follow his colleague across the lawn toward the house.
“Burglars?” Isaac breathed.
“How many are there?” Connor whispered as he studied the movement within the gently swaying trees.
“Four: three at the side of the house; another one still at the end of the garden.”
“This is no burglary,” Connor sighed. This was more of an ambush.
“Let’s go and see what they want,” Isaac murmured with relish.
“Let’s see if they intend to get into the house first, or if they are just reconnoitring. I want to catch at least one of them inside if I can,” Connor replied.
Isaac nodded, and followed his colleague into the study. By the time they had taken a wide circuit of the room and come to a stop beside the windows in the room, a low scratching sound coming from outside was clearly audible.
Connor pointed to the window beside him. He saw the top of the burglar’s head, but it was too dark to see if the hair was black or brown. Connor was waiting for the window to being to slide upright when, to his shock, the glass suddenly exploded.
The sound of shattering glass was interrupted by the sudden whoosh of flames as they incendiary device latched on to the warm, dry carpet. The lamp oil within the bottle splattered all over the walls, rug, and furniture, and ignited upon impact.
Within seconds, fire raced across the room consuming furniture, curtains, and anything else in its way. It happened far too fast for either Connor or Isaac to be able to do anything more than stand and watch. It was only when Connor turned to leave that he realised he was trapped. A wall of fire now blocked his exit from the room. Unless he was willing to climb out of the window, there was no escape.
“Damn it,” he swore.
“Jump,” Isaac shouted, but Connor knew it was too risky.
Connor glanced up and saw Tahlia race down the stairs.
“Stay back!” He shouted.
“Connor!” Tahlia screamed.
Smoke stung her eyes as she tried to see him through the thick fog of smoke and ferocious flames licking at every surface. Desperate, she glanced around in search of some idea of what to do, only vaguely aware of Isaac racing past her.
“Get back,” Connor coughed. “Tahlia, get out of here.”
“No, I am not leaving you,” she cried.
A huge wave of helplessness swept over her as she eyed the hungry flames that grew with each passing second. She couldn’t just leave and surrender to them; Connor’s life was at stake. He was the man she now knew she loved. The man she had never really stopped loving since the moment she had left London three years ago. The man she suspected she would never stop loving.
Determination squared her shoulders. Anger fuelled her strength, and she began to consider the situation with a cool logic that, later, would surprise even her. Before she could decide what to do, Isaac nudged her back, and began to move the untouched furniture in the room out of the way. It wasn’t to save the furniture. It was to try to keep the flames to a minimum so Connor could find a way out without having to go outside. Hurrying over to one of the chairs in front of the fire, she began to push it out of the way.
Connor was aware of someone trying to get into the room behind him. The heavy fist he landed on the intruder elicited a grunt, but Connor didn’t have time to savour the victory. Aware of shapes moving around behind the burglar, Connor slammed the shutter into place, and locked it. It wouldn’t provide much of a barrier if the attackers tried to force entry, but it would buy Connor and Isaac some time to ward them off.
Together Tahlia and Isaac pushed until the heavy chaise was tipped over and extinguished some of the flames. Oscar then began to beat the rest of the fire until the chairs were extinguished. Isaac flicked and flipped the heavy rug over to smother the flames and coughed when thick, cloying smoke attacked his lungs. Still, he continued to work his way around the room while Oscar beat anything with flames on it.
Connor spied a space in the heat, and raced through it.
“Thank God,” Tahlia cried as she was enveloped in his strong arms. She savoured the sound of his heartbeat beneath her ear and gave a silent prayer of thanks that he was relatively unharmed by the ordeal.
“Are you alright?” he demanded.
She nodded shakily, and clung desperately to him when he kissed her. It was short. It was hard, but it eased a lot of the fear and worry she needed to be rid of.
“What was that?” Oscar coughed when the last of the flames had been extinguished.
“An attempt to get us outside, I think,” Isaac warned. “Go and check the rest of the house. Make sure that all of the windows are locked, the shutters drawn and the curtains closed. Then do the same upstairs, and hurry man. They won’t have gone far. It is only a matter of time before they strike again.”
Sure enough, the sound of shattering glass echoed hauntingly around the house.
Everyone suddenly lurched into action again, and raced down the hallway toward the source of the noise. When they entered the room, a smouldering bottle lay in the middle of the hearth rug, but it had done very little damage.
“Let’s go,” Isaac snarled. He withdrew his gun, and didn’t wait for Connor to follow before he raced toward the window and vaulted out of it.
“Stay here,” Connor shouted before he vanished into the night.
Tahlia stared at the empty window in dismay. She wanted to call him back but words failed her. How he could even consider going out there after this was beyond her. She couldn’t quite decide if it was incredibly brave or ridiculously stupid.
“Let’s get this house secured,” Oscar sighed once the bottle had been thrown back outside.
“We can’t,” Tahlia protested. “How do they get back in?”
Oscar uncharacteristically swore.
“Right. Wait there,” he commanded before he handed her the beater and stalked out of the room.
Tahlia stared after him before nervously eyeing the empty window. She had no idea what she was supposed to do if someone attempted to get in, so stood tensely until Oscar returned. She eyed the old hunting guns he had tucked beneath each arm and lifted her brows at him.
“Well, we have to use something,” he said defensively and proceeded to load shot into each gun before handing her one.
She studied it in horror. Oscar’s sigh was full of masculine superiority. So much so that it irritated her. Shaking off any lingering worry, she squared her shoulders and listened attentively while he told her what to do if any would-be intruder tried to get in.
“I can do it,” she announced firmly, unsure if she was trying to convince Oscar or herself.
“Are you sure?” Oscar challenged.
He took one look at the temper on her face and clamped his mouth shut. A wise man knew when to retreat, and Oscar was no idiot. With a nod, he hurried out of the room to check the rest of the ground floor.
Connor and Isaac raced across the lawn toward the high wall that bordered the property. Their quarry was only a few feet ahead, and had no trouble scaling the high brickwork as they charged for freedom.
Intent on capturing the culprits, Connor and Isaac were not far behind. It was only when their boots hit the cobbles of the narrow alley that they realised they had been set up. The incendiaries thrown through the window had been nothing more than a ruse to get the men guarding the house to leave. They had made an amateurish mistake.
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�Damn it,” Connor snarled when he became aware of Isaac standing at his back.
They both studied the men waiting for them at either end of the alleyway. They were nothing short of street thugs brandishing their weapons in sinister threat. Connor knew he and Isaac could do a lot of damage to their opponents. At any other time, he would have been the first to launch the assault, all guns blazing, without any fear as to the consequences or potentially deadly outcome.
Now that he had Tahlia and Joseph, he wouldn’t take the risk. Nothing was worth the sacrifice to his life if things turned deadly. He had the prospect of the kind of future he had always wanted, and he had to protect it, even if it meant avoiding confrontation with men like these.
“It’s Sayers’ mob,” Isaac growled. “I recognise at least three of them from his gang.”
“Let’s get out of here,” Connor whispered for Isaac’s ears only.
“I was about to say that. There are about eight of them this side,” Isaac murmured.
“Same this side.”
“There may be more in the garden,” Isaac warned.
“I would rather fight them in the garden than out here,” Connor breathed as he studied their surroundings. “There is too much of a risk of being ambushed where we are.”
“Go,” Isaac snapped.
Neither man waited for the other. They were side by side as they vaulted back over the wall behind them. The battle cries of the men they left behind warned them that they only had a few seconds’ head start before the sound of someone climbing after them drew Isaac’s fire.
Neither man broke their stride as they pelted for the house.
“Get inside,” he called to Oscar who had stuck his head out of the window to see what was going on.
“What the Hell have you got there?” Connor thundered when he saw the gun Tahlia held in her trembling hands.
He had worked for the Star Elite for many years, but had never witnessed anything as terrifying as the sight of Tahlia holding a gun.
“Good God, woman, what-” He was lost for words.
Stalking across the room, he side-stepped around the tormenting end, and stopped. He wanted to snatch it off her, and had to dig very deep for his self-control so that he could ease it out of her reluctant hold gently and render it safe.
“Don’t ever do that again,” he growled.
Before she could protest he slammed a kiss on her lips to assure himself that she was alright while Isaac slammed the shutters closed, and drew the curtains.
“It won’t hold them, but it will delay them a little,” he sighed as he turned to face everybody.
“How many windows are out?” he asked Oscar as he strode across the room.
“Three downstairs. Everything upstairs is secure,” Oscar reported.
“Good. Let’s find something to barricade this,” he ordered over his shoulder as he left the room.
Isaac moved to second damaged window and peered out of it. Taking aim, he began to take shots at the men running toward the house. Connor stood behind him and reloaded the guns Isaac handed them back to him.
“Who are they?” Tahlia cried as she watched the smooth way they seemed to each know what the other was doing without being told.
“Whoever shot at us the other day,” Connor told her. “It was me they were shooting at. This was a trick, Tahlia. The fire was a ruse to get us out of the house.”
“What do they want?”
Connor shook his head. He didn’t tell her that it had something to do with the Star Elite’s investigation into Sayers. It would only add to her fear.
“Go pack some things,” Connor ordered.
“Wouldn’t it be best to keep shooting at them? One of the neighbours is bound to hear and will send for the magistrate,” Oscar asked as hurried into the room carrying two pistols.
When Tahlia looked at him in astonishment, he shrugged.
“They were your uncle’s,” he explained.
Connor swore. “It is going to take too long for the magistrate to get here. Even if he comes straight away, there were at least fifteen people out there. We can’t fight them all.”
“Six are down,” Isaac told him darkly as he swapped guns again.
“Nine are remaining then, at a rough guess. There are still too many of them for us to fight single-handed if they charged us and forced their way in here,” Connor replied. “There are too many doors in this house. It is too dangerous to stay here. There is a safe house we can go to.”
“Whatever they are after, they are desperate to get it,” Isaac warned. “They don’t send a mob like this if they just want to carry you off, Connor. It was both of us they wanted out there, not just one of us.”
“A safe house?” Tahlia interrupted, horrified at the thought of what might have happened if Connor and Isaac hadn’t been able to find their way back.
“Where is the portrait?” Connor demanded.
“Barnaby took it,” Isaac informed him. “The jewels, the portrait, and all paperwork have gone with him to the War Office. It is safe.”
“They don’t know that,” Connor warned.
“Connor,” Tahlia pleaded. She wasn’t sure what she was asking for, but he seemed to understand.
“Trust me,” he whispered. “We will get you out of here. We have a secret house where we can be safe until we can arrange a secure passage out of London.”
“Can we go to Rutland?” she asked hopefully.
She hated London in the first place. After the last few hours she hated it even more.
“Yes, Tahlia. Nobody will link me to you. Nobody but Henry knew where you had moved to. I think I am right in believing that the only other person who knows where you live now is the solicitor. He is hardly likely to tell anybody. I will get Barnaby to speak with the man and ensure all correspondence relating to you is removed from the solicitor’s premises.”
“Can you do that?”
“The War Office can do anything,” Isaac grunted. “Two more gone.”
“Seven left,” Connor told him. He turned to Tahlia as though he had just been discussing nothing more interesting than the weather. “It will be alright. I promise.”
Isaac turned to Oscar. “Go to the front rooms and take a peek through the shutters. See if there is anyone lingering out front. Count how many there are. We aren’t going outside, it is too dangerous. At least in here we have food, warmth, and shelter. We will have to wait until Barnaby tries to return. He can send for reinforcements if he witnesses someone watching the house.”
Connor nodded grimly. The urge to get Tahlia to safety was purely masculine; a man looking after his mate. However, the fighter in him, the Star Elite worker, had to be logical. They would be safer to remain where they were, and continued to fend off anyone who tried to get into the house.
“Two out front, but they are just watching and not trying to get in,” Oscar reported as he came to a stop in the doorway. “What do you want me to do with them?”
“Keep watch, Oscar. Do all of the rooms have the shutters drawn and curtains closed now?” Connor replied. As he spoke he was already on his way toward the connecting doors to the room next door.
“Yes, why?”
“Is there something in the cellars we can use to barricade the window that’s been smashed?” Connor asked. “Once Isaac has taken out as many as he can see, we can secure the window and turn out attention to keeping watch upstairs.”
“Why upstairs?” Tahlia asked with a frown. “Wouldn’t we do better if we kept watch down here where we can fight whoever tries to get in?”
Her use of the word ‘we’ unnerved him.
“We need to stay up high because we can see anyone approaching the house before they get to it. We can then be in whichever room they approach. It is no good standing in the sitting room at the side of the house if they are trying to get into the front parlour.”
He had a point. Nodding her understanding, she turned her attention to Cecily when Oscar and Connor went to find
something to block the broken window.
“Are you alright?”
Cecily laughed as she pushed up her sleeves. Her cheeks were already smudged with soot and her hair looked like she had spent the night under a hedge, but that didn’t bother her. Not given the circumstances. There was a militant gleam in Cecily’s eye that matched Tahlia’s determination to thwart the blackguards who were trying to break into her house. Tahlia had no idea who they were, or really what they wanted, but whatever it was, they weren’t going to get it. She winced when Isaac let off another volley of shots that was accompanied with a distant cry of pain. Quickly closing all thoughts of what might have happened to the recipient of that particular bullet, she turned to watch Oscar and Connor carry two old doors into the room.
“Six,” Isaac called. “I think it is five now because one has gone down but hasn’t left.”
“We need to cut these boards down to size,” Connor murmured.
“I have the thing.” Minutes later, Oscar re-appeared with a small saw used to chop the meat bones in the kitchen.
“Tell me when you are ready,” Isaac warned.
Connor had a hammer tucked into the waist-band of his breeches and Oscar had a fistful of nails. Once the doors were reduced, they moved the newly sized doors into position.
“How many more are there?” Connor asked, wise enough to know not to try to see for himself.
Isaac studied the darkness. He didn’t turn around to look at Connor as he spoke, but kept watch as he carefully assessed the shadows.
“Stay out of the line of sight,” he warned. “I think there are three more in the bushes. Of the rest, two are still down. Three others are injured and were helped over the garden wall. We need help, Connor.”
“We have to wait for Barnaby to get here. We don’t have any way of getting a message to him.”
Isaac’s sigh was heavy. He knew they were in dire trouble but didn’t say as much for fear of instilling hysteria in the women. However, it didn’t sit too well that they were like sitting targets waiting to be picked off. While the men who had just left were injured, and unlikely to return, Sayers would send reinforcements, and they would be even more determined than this lot. If there was one thing Sayers absolutely hated it was having his plans thwarted.