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Saving Persephone (The Haberdashers Book 4)

Page 14

by Sue London


  While Quince danced with a deadly elegance, Casimir guarded his flank with brutal efficiency. They were, Quince thought, horrifyingly well suited to this work. Quince had just defeated the man in front of him, slicing through his side, when he heard footsteps on the stairs to his left. Casimir was too far behind to face the threat, a perception borne out by hearing the Pole spin yet another adversary forcefully into a wall before stabbing them. Quince took a step back to position himself better, main gauche toward the stairs. He dropped his guard as he and Sabre locked gazes. She stopped, looking both confused and pleased. The next moment, they asked each other the same question. “Where is the Dragon?”

  She rushed the final steps up to him, looking warily around the room.

  Seeing her, Casimir demanded, “Where is Gina?”

  “Coming,” Sabre said briefly. Her dress was torn, muddy, and bloody. Her hair was disheveled, and she was breathing hard from running up the steps. But she was beautiful. Avoiding their blades, Quince stepped in to hug her against him and kiss the top of her head. She gave a small sigh and leaned her head on his chest for a moment.

  George appeared at the top of the steps silently. Casimir immediately hoisted her up and playfully shook her. “What have you been doing, wife?”

  “Adventuring!” she answered with a smile. He lowered her to the floor again and kissed her in a way that would be called scandalous in any drawing room.

  That was when they heard a shot ring out.

  “Where is Jack?” Quince asked, concerned that the third Haberdasher hadn’t made her appearance behind George.

  Rather than answer, Sabre asked, “Where is Gideon?”

  “He and Robert are out front.”

  Sabre held Quince's arm in a surprisingly hard grip. “Jack is... She thinks the baby is coming.”

  “But she isn't due for another month.” He knew the statement was pointless the instant he made it. “Where is she?”

  Sabre pointed. “Still downstairs. Miss Grant is with her.”

  “We must get Gideon,” Quince agreed.

  “Are we sure she is safe?” Casimir asked.

  George shrugged. “There are a lot of hallways in this place. I've no idea if there are more men down there.”

  “I'll guard her while you all go help Gideon and Robert,” Sabre said.

  “Are you sure?” George asked.

  “I'm always sure,” Sabre said. “You know that. Now hurry. We don't need to let this child inherit the minute he's born.”

  “It could be a girl, you know,” George said as she trotted toward the front of the chateau.

  “We wouldn't be that lucky!” Sabre shouted back as she descended the stairs again.

  Quince followed the Rokiczanas. He was terrified for his friend. Childbirth could be dangerous in the best of circumstances. An early birth in the cellars of a madman seemed to make it doubly so.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Gideon's arm was tired. Just now he wished that he practiced with the sword as often as Quince. Fury had taken him this far, but before long he was going to have to consider setting aside the sword and using his bare hands. That was when a voice called out over the courtyard.

  “Why are you fighting so hard, Mr. Bittlesworth? I already have what I need.”

  Gideon glanced over at Robert and saw that he wore his typically inscrutable expression, but his attacks became, if possible, even more brutal. The Dragon ordered his men to fall back, and Robert didn't pursue, standing instead with his sword lowered and chest heaving from exertion. Gideon wondered if Robert would draw and fire again, as the Dragon was unwittingly well within range of Robert's excellent aim, but his friend merely stared up at the man.

  Gideon hadn't arrived at the duchess's townhouse in time to see the Dragon before, and had to admit that if he had ever met him the man was so unremarkable as not to be recalled. He was small and nondescript, save for his sneering expression. It was clear that the Dragon believed himself to have the upper hand. With ten armed men around him at his command, it had a certain logic to it.

  “You thought to save your sister with just your friend the earl at hand? Although I am impressed that you found us, I am disappointed that you gave us so little fight.”

  Robert still didn't respond, but his silence didn't seem to bother the Dragon overly.

  “What a treasure your Miss Grant is. I can see how she tempted you into telling her all of your secrets. Given the time, she may yet tempt me to-”

  That was when Robert fired. It was easy enough not to be alarmed when Robert drew a gun, because he did it with the casual ease that another man might use to shoo off a fly. Just a quick flutter of the hand, and it was too late when you realized death was on the other end. Although not death in this case, as the ball struck the Dragon in the shoulder, spinning him backwards. His men closed rank around him as he hissed in pain.

  “Kill them both,” the Dragon raged.

  “Come now,” said a voice from the doorway. “Didn't I warn you not to interfere with my affairs?”

  Quince stepped onto the portico, sprayed with blood but somehow managing to look austere and ducal. A moment later, a volley of thrown knives flashed out from behind him, striking two of the Dragon's men unexpectedly. Having apparently seen too much in their first hour of their day, two more of them bolted. Four of them rushed toward the duke, but slowed their advance as the Rokiczanas appeared on either side of him. If George was out, then Gideon hoped his wife was not too far behind.

  Seeing the shifting balance of power, the Dragon also ducked to the side, retreating toward the side of the chateau with his men trailing behind him. Robert and Quince pursued, but Gideon approached George.

  “Where is Jack?”

  “She's still downstairs. Sabre and Imogen are with her. I can show you where the stairs are.”

  Gideon nodded and said to Casimir, “Help Quince and Robert.”

  The Pole nodded. “Don't get lost, my love,” he said to his wife in farewell.

  George showed him the stairs and then went back out to join her husband.

  * * *

  Robert thought he was perilously close to losing his temper again. That he might well cut through these sad brigands the Dragon used as guards, and beat the man into an unrecognizable pulp. Then he would find Miss Grant and do it all again. It was that rage, that possibility of losing control again, that made him hold back.

  The duke called out to the Dragon. “Where do you hope to go, Granby? I warned you that we wouldn't abide your meddling.”

  The baron didn't seem inclined to speak, now that the tides had turned. Robert lunged, cutting down one of the guards, and the duke attacked another. The man couldn't even effectively hold his sword once faced with a master, and watched slack-mouthed as it spiraled away onto the grass. Ever the gentleman, the duke gave the man a moment to consider his options and accept that running away was the best one.

  Now they only faced six guards. Granby sped up, but stopped short as a figure dropped in front of him. Casimir had run along the top of the wall that Robert had original drawn the fight against to outpace the man. A smart but daring move. Granby back-pedaled towards the chateau and disappeared through a doorway. The building had far too many doors so far as Robert was concerned. Now they had to hack their way through the remaining guards in order to pursue the damn man through this monstrosity of an ancient building. First, he would secure Granby for questioning. Then he would deal with Miss Grant.

  Chapter Thirty

  “Miss Grant,” Jack gasped as the pain hit her again.

  “It’s all right,” the redhead said soothingly. “Everything is going perfectly fine.”

  Sabre called out from the door, “How is she?” The duchess had been skittish about the birth and volunteered to protect the door when she returned.

  “She’s doing well,” Miss Grant said, dabbing Jack’s forehead with one of their shawls. Speaking to Jack again, she said, “You can call me Imogen if you like.”

>   Jack tried to smile but was afraid it looked more like a grimace. “The situation does seem to warrant more familiarity.”

  Imogen fussed and tidied as though they had all the time in the world. As though Jack weren’t in labor on a pile of clothes in a dungeon. “Have you thought of what you’ll name the baby?”

  Jack laughed hollowly. “Of course.”

  “No decisions yet?”

  “Gideon and I have argued about it for months.”

  “Of course you have.”

  “I thought we had more time.”

  Imogen smoothed back Jack’s hair. “Life has a funny way of not giving us what we expect.”

  Jack considered herself to be strong. Resilient. But right now all she wanted to do was cry. Partially from frustration, but also from grief. Why did their baby have to be born here? Why did they have to be here at all? She had only been a few days away from going to Kellington for her confinement. Every earl had been born in that bed. What if this was a boy? It would break tradition.

  She heard loud boots on the stairs and felt a moment of fear, but then she heard a voice calling out, “Where is Jacqueline? Where is my wife?”

  “The earl?” Imogen asked.

  Jack nodded, the tears coming now from relief. Gideon burst into the room with a great deal of energy, as he was wont to do. What Jack didn’t expect was his reaction to Imogen.

  “You’re that woman, aren’t you? Get away from my wife.”

  “Giddy, no.” Jack said.

  “She was helping that foul bastard upstairs.” He looked ready to bodily remove Imogen, which Jack knew him fully capable of doing. Sabre, however, inserted herself.

  “No, she wasn’t. She was acting on our behalf. It was very brave of her.”

  “I don’t know what she’s told you,” Gideon said. “But all the way here Robert has been muttering darkly about her, and the damn Dragon himself said she brought the information he was trying to get from Robert.”

  “You’re going to have to trust me,” Sabre said.

  “Not bloody likely,” Gideon responded.

  “Dammit, Gideon,” Sabre said, stomping her foot for emphasis, “she’s the only one who has any clue about birthing. If you don’t trust her, then I hope you have some idea of how to bring your child into this world.”

  Gideon’s gaze snapped to Jack, and he truly looked at her instead of worrying about the safety of her environs. He dropped to his knees and grasped her hand. “Jacqueline.”

  “It’s all right, Giddy,” she said. “Women go through this every day.”

  He glowered at Imogen, and then looked back at Jack. “Do you trust her?”

  “I do, Giddy.”

  The kitchen maid, Claudette, returned with the water that Imogen had sent her to fetch. After Imogen had everything arranged to her liking she said to the earl, “This could be over quickly, or it could take hours. Make yourself useful by holding her hand and wiping her brow.”

  Gideon squeezed Jack’s hand and she smiled up at him. “I love you, Giddy.”

  He kissed her hand. “I love you too, Jacqueline.”

  * * *

  Imogen found the connection between the earl and countess to be quite extraordinary. Perhaps it was enhanced by the danger of the situation, the pending arrival of the child, but even so it qualified as remarkable. The two had similar auras, primarily blue, but whereas Jack leaned more toward the intellectual, her husband was a creature of earthly energies. Had Imogen met him under other circumstances she would have found him quite attractive if, well, too earnest. But seeing the two of them together it was clear that their bond was strong, probably the strongest that Imogen had ever witnessed. It was to be hoped that childbirth didn’t prove to be too taxing for the countess. It would be a crime to see such a beautiful connection severed by unfortunate circumstance.

  * * *

  Robert was quite finished with patience. He tore through the remaining guards brutally, leaving the job half-done for either Casimir or the duke to remedy. Having gained access to the dark hallways of the house, he paused. Granby had entered far enough ahead that there were no clear signs of where he had gone.

  Then, at a distance, he heard his sister’s voice. “What are you doing here, you rotten bastard?” Hopefully she was referring to Granby, and not some stray man who had annoyed her. With Sabre it could be difficult to tell. He ran into the darkness, toward where he thought he heard her voice.

  * * *

  Sabre saw the Dragon at the other end of the hall and knew she had to think quickly. The last thing she wanted was the man anywhere near her friend during the birth. After her vitriolic greeting, the baron simply walked toward her.

  “Are you still hoping you can use me to get information from my brother?” she taunted.

  He didn’t speak, didn’t rush, held no weapons, but kept coming. It was oddly panic inducing. She darted down a side hallway to see if he would follow. It seemed he would. Well, at least she could get him a good way from Jack before starting a fight. She saw some steps leading upwards and ran to them, planning to face him once she reached the top.

  * * *

  Quince ran after Robert into the chateau. The hallways were terribly dim and by the time he caught up with his brother-in-law they were walking carefully, each with a hand on the wall. Then they heard a woman screaming. They both began running again, nearly stumbling down some steps in their haste.

  “Bloody old keeps,” Robert muttered.

  The screaming stopped within a few moments, and after they reached the bottom of the stairs they were unsure of which way to go.

  Quince turned around. “George did say that there were a great number of hallways down here.”

  Robert held up a hand to quiet him, cocking his head to the side. Quince thought of himself as a man of patience, but after a few minutes in that same position he was done with waiting.

  “Sabre!” he called out, following the hall further into the keep. He heard Robert sigh in irritation behind him, but he didn’t care. Both his wife and Granby were in here somewhere. He didn’t like the combination.

  Shortly, the sound of a scream again, which sent the two of them running. Turning another corner, they saw a door at the end of a long hallway with light spilling from it. They burst into the room as though there was a battle to be fought, but were brought up short. The source of the screams proved to be the countess, flushed, sweating, and holding onto Gideon’s hand for dear life. Two women fluttered at the countess’s skirts. Good Lord, the baby truly was coming. Quince’s instinct was to apologize at the intrusion, but Robert pointed his sword at one of the women.

  “I’ll deal with you later. Where is my sister?”

  The redhead looked up at him, her irritation easily as pronounced as Robert’s. “She’s not outside the door?”

  “Obviously not!”

  “That was where she said she would be,” the redhead tossed back. “As you can see, I’m otherwise occupied.”

  Quince left the two of them bickering and went back to the hallway. There were three other passages he could see that she could have taken, other than the way he and Robert had come. “Sabre?” he called out softly. No reply. He took a moment to contemplate the different paths, and then did what he always did when looking for his wife. He followed his heart.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  George finished wiping off her last knife and winked at her husband. “This reminds me of Budapest.”

  Casimir paused in straightening his sleeves. “You and I remember it very differently.”

  “Let’s go see if we can find everyone.”

  Casimir pulled her close. “Or we could stay here and find… other things to do.” He kissed her.

  She kissed him back, but then pushed away. “Our friends need us.”

  “I’m sure they’re fine,” he insisted, gripping her hips to pull her close, something he knew she liked. She put a hand up to keep distance between them.

  “Casimir, we need to help
.”

  “We have helped. How is any of this your fault?” He took her other hand and kissed it tenderly. “We have helped, and I’m sure they can finish cleaning up this mess. I have friends not too far from here.”

  “Of course you do.”

  “And I am sure they would be delighted to host myself and my new wife for a time.”

  “So you’re suggesting we just sneak away, not even checking to make sure everyone is all right?”

  One of his rare displeased expressions passed over his face. “It is not out of the question for me to keep my wife safe, is it? Some might even say that it is expected.”

  “The Haberdashers are already upset with me and-”

  “Always it is the Haberdashers! Do you have any idea how worried I was when Robert came for us? I was lucky to even be with the earl, as I most likely wouldn’t have known otherwise. How am I to keep my wife safe when her friends keep her entangled in such troubles?”

  “You’ve been there for most of the trouble I’ve faced. I thought you knew I could take care of myself.”

  He pulled her close to rest their foreheads together. “I know we can take care of each other. Don’t ask more of me, I couldn’t bear it.”

  Her husband was often affectionate, but he was rarely sentimental. “I need to make sure they’re safe,” she whispered.

  He sighed and kissed her forehead. “Very well, then. Let us make sure they are safe.”

  * * *

  At the top of the steps Sabre found a door and pushed it open, to at least make sure that nothing would surprise her by coming from that direction. It led to a terrace. The large, open terrace was certainly a better place to fight than the narrow hallway. She stopped there, not too far from the door, and didn’t have long to wait before Granby followed her. She moved her sword to the first position and waited for him to close the distance. He stopped just short of her reach with the blade.

 

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