Mercy sat and stared back without blinking.
Before one of her friends said or did something that might cause them injury, Faith said, “You should go and write your ransom note before the hour grows too late.”
Fouché narrowed his gaze, but then turned and strode from the room.
“He is rather terrifying,” Poppy said once the door was closed and the footsteps faded. “Is he the one who tortured Nick?”
Shaking her head, Faith tried not to let the visions that still haunted her sleep push into her waking mind. “He gave the orders, but no. I don’t think he likes to do the dirty work as much as to watch it. He’s still a vicious man and not to be toyed with. Let’s hope this kidnapping is of short duration.”
* * * *
Nick signed his letter to the archbishop of Canterbury. He would need to gain an audience in Doctors’ Commons and beg to obtain a special license. Perhaps he’d better go to his banker first and gather extra funds for the church.
Someone pounded on the front door.
Kosey’s deep voice barked orders, and boots thundered in the foyer.
Pulse jumping, Nick rushed to see what was happening.
A boy of perhaps thirteen stood on the white marble floor, dripping from the rain and telling an animated story. His light brown hair was plastered to his head and hung long around his neck. He twisted a cap in his hands and fear marked his blue eyes. Accent thick from the London streets, he babbled, “I didn’t know what to do. Mr. John was alive, and I worried he’d drown on the side of the road before I could get back to him, but the ladies— I couldn’t go fast with him so out of sorts.”
Two footmen in Aaru white livery carried the Wallflower’s driver, John, into the house and placed him on the floor. He shivered and his eyes were heavy-lidded.
Kosey said, “Put him by the fire in the parlor and get blankets.”
The footmen complied quickly.
Panic pounded inside Nick’s chest. He gripped the boy by the thin shoulders and lowered to his level. “Who are you? What happened to John?”
The boy swallowed and stared as if Nick might slit his throat.
Easing his grip, he asked again, softer. “What’s your name, boy?”
“Benny, sir. I work on West Lane for the Countess of Radcliff and the other ladies. I’m the kitchen boy. That’s why Tipton sent me, ʼcause no one ever notices me, but I can ride a horse just fine, and knows how to sneak about, so he sent me to see if John were alive and then to bring word here, and John was alive, but I didn’t know if he could ride and had to go slow, and then the rain, I couldn’t leave him to drown, but the ladies…” The words all tumbled together as Benny’s story got more urgent.
“Benny, be calm. We will see to John. You did well. Tell me what happened to the ladies.” Nick used every muscle in his body to keep still and not frighten Benny.
Benny gulped and nodded. “There were these men who came and made all of us sit in the kitchen. I stayed in the garden out of sight, but close. Didn’t really know what to do. Then the other man with the fancy clothes and funny accent came with the ladies and put them in the parlor. Tipton told me to sneak off and see if John lived and bring word here.”
“Did you hear the man’s name?” Nick wanted to shake it out of Benny, but kept his own fear in check. The boy was doing all he could.
A deep scowl marked Benny’s young face and he stared at the floor. “It was strange, like his accent. One of his brutish fellows said it. Fish, fatch…I’m just not sure, sir.”
“Fouché,” Nick said with a perfect French accent.
“That’s it!” Benny hollered with a wide smile. Then he observed John being carried away. “Is Mr. John going to be okay? I did my best, but he jostled a lot and only said a few words all the way here.” Tears sparked in Benny’s eyes.
Kosey wrapped his arm around Benny. “You did marvelously. Come and get dry and warm. We will see to John. A doctor is already called to fix him.” He guided Benny toward the servants’ stairs, a deep look of concern pulling his mouth taut.
Nick had no idea when Geb had come into the foyer, but when he straightened, his friend was there. “We will need a plan,” Geb said.
“We need those books,” Nick replied.
Shaking his head, Geb led the way into his study. The desk was stained to a dark rich brown with gold inlay around the edges. Books and scrolls from every part of the world lined the shelves, and dark pine-green fabrics covered the comfortable chairs. The rain made it look later than it was outside the tall windows, but still time was of the essence. Geb rang for Kosey. “You really think Fouché would come all this way and kidnap ladies of substance for the purpose of getting his silly list of royalists back?”
Kosey stepped into the room and closed the door. “The boy is exhausted, but unharmed. The driver has a bad knock to the head. Time will tell if he will recover. Mrs. Bastian is with him now and the doctor is on his way.”
Nick nodded, then turned his attention back to Geb’s question. He had been shot, stabbed, tortured, betrayed, and seen dozens of horrors in his military career, but he hadn’t known blinding fear, until that moment. “I think he would kill everyone in that house if that’s what it took to get his books back.”
“Shall I go to my transcriber and get the books?” Kosey asked, arms folded over his wide chest, his expression still, though worry shone in his dark eyes.
“Get the original books, Kosey. Fouché won’t settle for the copy. His attachment is strange, but I know he will not give up the ladies for copies.” Nick had seen the way Joseph fondled the books. It would have to be the real thing.
“And if there is resistance?” Kosey raised his brows.
Rage filled Nick’s chest to capacity. “I don’t care if Drake himself is waiting in the room. Get those books.”
Kosey looked to Geb, who nodded. He made a low bow and left.
“So, we go to London, my friend?” Geb stood behind his desk, hands pressed to the surface. His dark eyes lit with such fury, it might have been his own family taken hostage.
Nick needed to rid himself of the anger before he did something rash. He sat with his head in his hands. His mind, racing with possibilities, needed clearing. It was a few deep breaths before he could respond. “It is obvious that Joseph knows where I am. He will send a message with his demands. He may not know that Benny came here so swiftly. We must assume he knows nothing of the boy and he left poor John to die in a ditch. He thinks he has time.”
A knock at the door was followed by Mrs. Bastian stepping inside. Her blue turban was askew, keys rattled against her hip, and her usually pleasant expression was serious and stern. “Kosey left for London. The doctor is here, and this letter just arrived by messenger.”
She handed the note to Nick. He recognized the handwriting as Joseph’s and practiced keeping his cool. “How is John?”
A long sigh preceded a shrug. “Time will tell. He took quite a bang to the head and then lay in the weather. The boy is fast asleep, poor lamb.”
Once the housekeeper left, Nick opened the letter from Joseph and forced his hands to stop shaking. “He demands his books in return for the lives of all in the West Lane house. He will begin killing members of the staff one hour after dark.”
“Not much time.” Geb rounded the desk.
“No. Something must have rushed him. Generally, he likes to take his time to get his way. The trouble he went to at Parvus was more to his liking.” Nick stood. “I wish I had an hour to rid myself of this fury racing through my veins. But whatever has shortened Joseph’s time has done the same to ours.”
“You can beat the devil out of a punching bag when this is over, or Kosey will fight you on the mat. Now we must go. I shall call for horses.” Geb opened the door.
“Have someone wake the boy. Benny may be needed.” Nick stood and swallowed emotion like
a sour pill. A level head was what he needed to keep Faith and the others safe.
Benny slept in the saddle in front of Nick. The child was exhausted and rightfully so, as he’d probably never ridden so far on his own before, then had to get John on the horse and tell his tale at Aaru.
They stopped at the home of the Earl of Marsden. His sister was involved, and he might be willing to help. A footman took care of Benny, who leaned against the stone rail.
“See that he remains here,” Nick said.
“I won’t wander off, sir. I need to save the ladies.” Benny tugged on his worn gray coat.
Rhys sat in his study in a large overstuffed chair, dozing. He stood quickly when they walked in with barely an announcement. “Your Grace, Mr. Arafa, what brings you here?”
They were splattered with mud from the long dash to London and must look a sight. Nick bowed his head briefly. “It seems your sister’s home is under duress and the fault lies with me, my lord. The ladies left Aaru and were abducted by a French agent whom I provoked. We need your help and the help of your wife to retrieve the ladies and servants, if that is possible.”
Rhys blinked several times. “My wife went to see her friends at West Lane when they didn’t stop here with details about their visit.”
“Ah, this is why Fouché is rushed.” Geb nodded his head.
“I beg your pardon,” Rhys said.
Nick should have known. “The arrival of your wife means that Joseph would have to rush his plans. He knows when Lady Marsden does not return home this evening, you will come looking for her.”
Eyes narrowed, Rhys’s fists clenched at his sides. “What does this Frenchman want?”
“Some notebooks I stole from him.” There was no point lying and it would take too long to do so. “He is quite attached to them, but the English government wanted them. I had sent them to be copied, but Kosey has gone to retrieve them regardless of the state of transcription.”
With a moment to process what he’d been told, Rhys examined Nick and then turned to Geb, who nodded. “I’ll get my coat and have my horse brought around. How long do we have?”
The rain had stopped, giving way to a few late shards of daylight. “An hour, maybe more. I think my arrival at West Lane will give us some extra time.”
Rhys’s butler stood in the doorway with the coat without having to be called. Rhys tugged it on. “I wonder if this Fouché had any idea what he was getting into when he took those four hostages. They can vex a saint when provoked.”
“Do you think they will do something foolish?” Geb asked.
“I can almost guarantee it.” Rhys stormed toward the door.
Following in his wake, Nick shuddered at what kind of mischief the ladies might get into.
Chapter 24
“You realize this man is a murderer.” Faith had seen what Fouché was capable of, but she also hated sitting and doing nothing in their own home. This was not like Parvus, where they had few resources. They were in the middle of a London neighborhood with a houseful of servants.
Poppy walked to the door. “One of those thugs told Tipton they will begin killing our people in less than an hour, Faith. We need to distract him and stall until help arrives.”
Mercy stood and joined Poppy at the door. “And if help does not arrive? It is possible that no message was sent and Benny did not make it to Aaru. What if we are on our own?”
Taking a deep breath, Faith cringed inwardly. “I think that is what we must assume, though I’m sure Nick will come.”
“I cannot risk the staff on hopes related to a spy.” Aurora joined them at the door.
Poppy gave them all a nod and yelled, “You will open this door this instant!” She banged on the closed door.
The door pulled open and the hinge protested loudly. The oversized guard grunted. “What do you want?”
Faith steadied her pulse and narrowed her eyes at the brute. “We are ladies locked in a room with no privy for three hours. What do you think we want?”
His eyes widened for a moment before his cheeks pinked. “I’ll take you down to the servants one at a time.”
Stepping forward, Aurora said, “Surely a large man like yourself can manage two of us down one flight of steps.”
“Fine, you two.” He pointed to Faith and Aurora.
They didn’t give him time to reconsider and dashed out of the parlor, through the foyer and the broken door, down the servants’ stairs. The guard barked for another of Fouché’s men to watch the parlor door, and followed them down.
At the bottom of the stairs the room opened up into the large kitchens. The long table was used for food preparation and was where the staff took their meals. Tipton, Jane, Kathy, the upstairs maid, Anna, the newly promoted housekeeper, Gillian, three footmen, the cook, and her assistant all turned and stood.
“Sit!” yelled a guard.
They obeyed but stared at Faith and Aurora.
“Tim, I’ve got to go back upstairs. You watch these two. They need the privy.”
“A’right, Dick.” Tim scratched the long scar running from the corner of his mouth back to his ear.
“We’ll need our maid,” Aurora commanded.
Tim scoffed and spit on the floor. “You swells can’t do nothin’ on your own, not even take a piss.” He glowered. “Well, one of you go help the helpless then.”
With the scrape of her chair, Jane rushed toward them. “I’ll help you, my lady.”
Aurora, Faith, and Jane scurried down the hall to a small room the servants used for privacy. It was near the outside door for ease of cleaning. Inside the unadorned white-walled room were a chair and two chamber pots.
Aurora said, “We must get all of you out of here, Jane.”
Eyes wide, Jane shook her head. “I’ll not leave you ladies, and I can’t imagine Tipton will either.”
It had occurred to Faith that the servants might refuse to go. While it warmed her heart, her frustration built. “Then Gillian must take all the others with her and get out of this house before something terrible happens.”
“How will we get around that Tim?” Jane pulled a disgusted face.
“Is he the only guard down here?” Aurora asked.
Jane nodded.
It wasn’t the cleanest plan, but it just might work. Faith took a breath. “One good wallop from one of cook’s pans should do the trick. Then tie him up and put him in the larder for now.”
“But wait until Lady Poppy and Mercy come down,” Aurora warned. “One guard you should be able to handle, but Dick is a big man and might not go down with just a frying pan.”
Jane gave a worried nod and took a breath. “You two go out. I’ll pretend to clean up here.”
Pulling Jane into a hug, Faith wished she could have spared the woman all she’d endured on her behalf. “Stay safe, Jane. I’m so sorry to have brought all of this on you.”
With a tight squeeze, Jane said, “This is not your fault, but I’ll be glad when it’s all over.”
Not looking back, Faith took Aurora’s hand and they sauntered down the hall toward the kitchen.
Tim opened his mouth and took a deep breath to call upstairs.
Aurora put her hand out flat. “There is no need to bellow as if we were in a gaming hell, sir. We can find our way back to the parlor without escort.”
“See that you do, milady.” He spat out the last word.
They climbed the stairs to the foyer.
Faith stared Dick down as if he were her prey and not the other way around. Best to appear bold even if you felt small. She and Aurora stepped past his hulking figure and into the ladies’ parlor.
Letting out a long breath, Poppy stomped over with Mercy just behind. “How did it go? Were you able to deliver the message?”
Aurora hugged Poppy. “Yes. Now you two go down and refuse Dick�
��s help. That’s the one outside this door. Hopefully he’ll think you harmless and let you down the servants’ stairs without an escort.”
“Be brash and forceful.” Faith paused. “Well, just be yourself, Poppy. That should do nicely.”
Poppy cocked her head with her hands on her hips. “Thanks for that.” She laughed. “I knew my bad manners would eventually come in handy.”
Kissing her cheek, Aurora said, “We would not change a thing about you. Now be quick. I can’t imagine we have much time to spare.”
Faith took Mercy’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “Be careful.”
With a nod, they knocked and were let out of the parlor.
There was nothing to do but wait and listen for trouble. The sun peeked through the heavy cloud cover for a moment before it set. Even in the summer, there would usually be a fire in the hearth, and a chill fell over the room.
Taking a few candles from the small gold and silver chest on the table, Faith lit them before the old ones guttered out. Her memory of total darkness in the cellar at Parvus was too fresh to allow herself to be left without illumination if she could avoid it.
Aurora rounded the divan and took a candle from her. “This will all turn out fine, Faith.”
In her heart Faith knew Nick would do everything in his power to keep them safe, but her head screamed that he might not be able to do anything. She nodded. “We are Wallflowers, we can manage our way out of anything.”
Smile weak, Aurora nodded. “This waiting is worse than sneaking around below.”
The door opened. Poppy and Mercy strolled in, looking bored.
As soon as the door closed, they ran the rest of the way over. Mercy whispered, “It’s done. Tim is in the larder, tied up like a goose at Christmas.”
“Tipton and Jane refused to leave.” Poppy shook her head. “It was none too easy to get Gillian out of the house, but she took responsibility for the other servants and they’ve gone. They’ll call for help as well.”
“Good work,” Faith said. She knew any help the servants could bring would be too late, but it didn’t matter as long as they were safely out of West Lane.
Misleading a Duke Page 24