Chapter Twenty-Two
“B ring the light a little closer, please?”
An unfamiliar voice sounded close as Kara shied away from a bright, insistent light.
“Ah, there. You see, she’s coming around.”
“We did manage to rouse her enough to get a couple of cups of coffee in her while we waited.”
Niall. That was Niall’s voice. She tried to reach him, to pull herself out of the darkness that held her.
“I offer my apologies for the wait, but the local midwife needed assistance with a difficult birth. You did just as you ought, though. The duchess is breathing at an acceptable rate. Her heart sounds steady. Since you have been able to rouse her…”
The voice went on. It sounded kind, but she couldn’t follow it all. Something made her frown, though. The duchess, he’d said. Me . “It’s me,” she said out loud, but the sound of her voice made her cringe. Why did she sound like a croaking frog? “I’m the duchess.”
“Kara.”
The bed sank as Niall settled on the edge.
Bed? She looked around. “Where are we?”
“Back in Chiswick. Can you open your eyes, Kara?”
She hadn’t realized she’d closed them. She opened them with difficulty, and smiled at Niall, hovering close. He looked both worried and relieved at the same time.
“We took rooms at the hotel. Here.” He wrapped her fingers around a warm cup, but kept his hands around hers. “Drink. We need to get a little more coffee into you.”
It was warm and strong. She breathed in the steam, trying to chase the fog from her brain.
Fog. Fog in her brain.
She nearly choked as it all came rushing back. “Petra!” she gasped. “She has a Russian!” Why wasn’t she making sense? Why did her mouth feel like it was thick with cotton? “She’s working with a Russian!”
“We surmised that much,” Niall said. “Take another drink. They drugged you. You need the stimulant.”
“I drugged them !” she corrected him. “Petra and the Russian both. But her henchmen caught me, and they made me drink the tea, too.”
“Hallucinations are not unusual in a patient that has ingested that much opium,” the unfamiliar voice said. “But I can see her pupils are improving. Give her a little more coffee and then allow her to sleep it out. She’ll be fine in the morning.”
Kara looked over to see a handsome gentleman of middle age packing tools back into a leather bag.
“Thank you, Dr Lewis.” Niall still sounded worried. “Are you sure there are no other measures we need to take?”
“Positive. Just a little rest and she’ll be fine.”
Kara stared as Gyda walked with the man to the door. “How did I get back here?” She tried to remember, but had only a fuzzy recollection of the parlor in the farmhouse. Of being tied up… She reached further—and it all came rushing back. The tavern, Petra…
“That man!” she cried. “Petra sent him after you. She sent him to finish you and Dalton. I tried to warn Gyda.”
“You did. We handled him. He’s in the constable’s cell now. I’ll send word to Wooten so that he can send a man to pick him up.”
“But how did you find me?” She sat up straighter, recalling that strange ride. “I had to take the chance, Niall. I couldn’t let her disappear. We couldn’t lose her again.”
“Dalton knew about the farm. He’d followed Petra there a few times.” Niall shook his head. “Without him, we might not have found you. You scared me witless, Kara.”
“I’m sorry. But you know I had to follow her. Gyda—”
“Gyda is right here.” Her friend grinned at her and sat on the other side of the bed. She looked as exhausted as Kara felt. “Don’t let Niall scold you. You did exactly as either of us would have done in your place.”
Kara knew it was true, but Niall did look shaken. She cringed, thinking how she would have felt had their roles been reversed. Panicked. Deathly frightened. Furious.
She gasped suddenly. “Niall, she is planning an assassination! Petra and her Russian!”
“An assassination? Who?”
“I don’t know. Someone in the government. They both knew whom they were discussing and never said the name.”
“Think, Kara,” Gyda urged. “Surely they must have said something about their target. Something we can use?”
Kara put both hands on her brow. “I don’t think so? It’s all so fuzzy. Oh! Yes! He was an obstacle to the Russians, in some way. She said he was wily. Resourceful. I…I don’t think there is anything else.”
Niall and Gyda exchanged glances.
“Stayme,” Niall said. “We need to get word to him. He might know who any likely targets could be.”
“I’ll go.” Gyda stood.
“No. It’s late,” Niall objected. Kara could tell he was reluctant to dissuade her. “The last train will have left. It’s been two very long days. None of us has slept beyond a few snatched minutes in the carriage.”
“Except me,” Kara interjected.
They all laughed a little. Niall reached for her hand, then Gyda’s. “Let’s sleep tonight and head out in the morning.”
“I cannot.” Gyda swallowed. “I wouldn’t be able to rest, in any case, knowing there was something to be done and I wasn’t doing it.” Kara felt for her as her friend gave Niall a pleading look. “Let me take the carriage and go to Berkeley Square. I’ll sleep on the way into London. It will be easier to rest knowing that I am accomplishing something. Leaving no stone unturned. No chance to catch her untaken.”
Kara squeezed Niall’s hand.
“I’ll fill Stayme in and set him to work,” Gyda continued. “Then I will rest there until morning. You two can take the first train in. We’ll see what Stayme can dig up and start planning accordingly.”
Kara began to feel guilty. “Perhaps I can—”
“No,” Niall interrupted, his tone resolute. “You will do as the doctor said and rest right there until morning.” He nodded at Gyda. “Very well. It is a good plan as any.”
It was probably just as well. Kara could feel the pull of exhaustion. Tugging Gyda closer, she gave her a long hug and whispered her thanks. When her friend pulled away, she blinked tearfully. “Be careful,” she whispered.
“You be careful,” Gyda returned indignantly. “No more horse tonic for you.”
Kara laughed and shook her head. “I only hope Petra is feeling worse than I am. They hauled her off in that farm cart, stretched out in the straw.” The words triggered a memory. “Oh, how could I have forgotten? They are hauling some sort of devices. Hollow, oblong, made of metal. There were holes all about them. I had no idea what they were, but there was gunpowder in the barn and they meant to take it with them.”
Niall told her about the craters blown in the fields. “They mean to destroy something, and make a big splash about it.”
“They were missing a piece,” Kara said, trying to remember. “The Russian mentioned it.” She looked helplessly between them. “I hope Stayme will know something, otherwise I don’t know how we are going to find them. Maybe Petra will sleep long enough to delay their plans.”
“I hope she sleeps for days,” Gyda said harshly. “And then wakes up to find us upon her.” She raised a brow. “But as for you, I expect you to be up and pushing on in the morning. Sleep it off,” she said gently. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Kara nodded and lay back while Niall walked with Gyda to the door. Nestling in, she watched them speak, flooded with the warmth of love she felt for them both.
She blinked, fighting the sleep that pulled at her. Down, down. She struggled, but it was too strong. Her eyelids drooped, and she fell.
Her dreams were vivid. Some of them frightened her. She thought her drugged mind had taken pity on her at last when she dreamed a knock on the hotel door. Niall rose to answer it, and she knew it for a dream when he opened it to reveal Turner standing outside.
Her butler and longest close friend entered, looking grim. “Tom Hawkins is gone. He left sometime during the night.”
A shiver went through her in the wake of the cold air that had come in with him. Surely she hadn’t dreamed that.
Was she awake?
Turner’s gaze lowered. “I’m sorry. So sorry. Harold is gone, too. I came to tell you straightaway.”
Kara gasped and sat up. It wasn’t a dream. But Turner’s words made her feel as if she were still trapped in a nightmare.
*
Niall pulled Turner inside. He steered the older man to a seat by the fire before kneeling to poke it back to life.
Kara, still fully clothed after all her adventures yesterday, climbed out of the bed. She was still a bit wobbly on her feet, but she made it across the room and dropped into a heap at Turner’s feet. “Tell us, Turner.”
“I am so—” the butler began again, but his gaze ran over her and he stopped, clearly startled by the picture she presented. Niall looked, too. The rumpled gown, the bare feet, the bits of straw throughout her ebony hair—none of it meant a jot to him. She could still put any tonnish debutante to shame. It was the fright in her eyes that moved him.
“Your Grace? Are you well?” A similar scare showed in Turner’s face as he stared at the woman he’d cared for since she was a girl. “What’s happened?”
“Petra’s henchmen poured opium down her throat,” Niall said bitterly. Those men would pay for that before all of this was over.
“To be fair, I dosed Petra and one of her accomplices first,” Kara said. “But never mind that. Where is Harold? What’s happened?” She stared up at the older man. “Turner, you look positively gray.” She glanced toward the window, which was just starting to brighten with morning light. “You must have left in the middle of the night to get here so early.”
“Your message said you hoped to leave here this morning, if all went well. I wanted to catch you before you left.” He looked between them. “I am forced to imagine it didn’t go well?”
“It went…” Niall paused. “The entire escapade was…unusual.”
“As our typical matter of course, then,” Turner said wryly.
“Yes, yes. But what’s happened to Harold?” Kara demanded.
“I do not know for sure,” Turner answered miserably.
“He’s not hurt?” Niall could see Kara holding her breath, waiting for the answer.
“I have no reason to think so, but I cannot say.” Turner drew in a breath. “Your message reached us late last evening. I went upstairs, thinking to share the news with Harold. I knew that he would have been relieved to learn that we had heard from you. But he wasn’t in his room. Nor could I find him in the schoolroom or the gymnasium. I thought he must have gone out to visit with Mr. Hawkins.”
“He knew Hawkins was in the laboratory,” Niall said, remembering the discussion.
“Yes. After you departed, I took Mr. Hawkins out there to settle him in, making sure none of the staff realized he hadn’t gone with you. The lad was out there working when we arrived. They had quite a reunion.”
“Yes, Tom said he knew Harold,” Kara recalled.
“Harold remembered him, too. They had a grand time, reminiscing over old adventures and mutual acquaintances. They talked and talked, all the while I was setting up Mr. Hawkins’s cot. I asked the man if he needed to rest or if he wanted to go to work right away, as he had agreed to do. He was quite ready to dedicate himself to some useful task, he insisted. The duller the better, as he needed time to think. I set him to sorting the new shipment of gears and then pulled Harold aside and explained how we needed to keep Mr. Hawkins’s presence a secret. As I suspected, the lad was proud to be a part of it all.”
Niall could well picture it.
“I explained that Mr. Hawkins needed some time to himself. That he needed quiet to contemplate the choices that lay before him. Harold agreed to leave him to his work while he concentrated on his own. I left them to it, but several hours later, the lad came to report that he was done in the lab and that Hawkins had not even noticed his leaving, so engrossed was he.” Turner sighed. “That was before dinner, and it was the last I saw of the boy. He was eager to report to me and felt sure he could be a help, because the kitchens were used to him stopping in to get snacks to take with him before heading out to the forge or the lab.”
“That sounds like Harold,” said Niall. “All stomach and focus on his projects.”
“When I failed to find him, I thought that must surely be what happened, and I would find him out in the laboratory, sharing Cook’s ginger snaps. It took me a few minutes to arrange to go out there without any of the staff knowing and wondering. But when I made it out to the lab, neither of them was there.”
“Was there a note?” asked Kara.
“Any sign of a struggle?” Niall asked at the same time.
“Neither,” Turner said. “I questioned the staff. Harold had indeed stopped to raid the larder earlier, but no one had seen him since. It wasn’t until I spoke with the men posted at the gate that I learned that Mr. Preston had come back.”
“Preston?” Niall repeated sharply. “And he didn’t come to the house?”
“No. No one else had any notion of his visit. He must have gone straight to the laboratory.”
“Preston did not seem enamored of Tom’s request to stay at Bluefield,” Kara said.
“Would he have convinced him to leave? And taken Harold with him?” asked Turner.
“It’s just as likely that he might have convinced Hawkins to leave and Harold followed after them,” said Niall. “The lad has been itching to prove himself. If he heard something he thought valuable or found suspicious, then he would act.” He raised a brow at Kara. “Much like someone else I know.”
“Yes, it does sound like you,” she returned pertly before dropping her head into her hands. “Oh, saints,” she breathed. “What if he’s out there on his own?”
“He’s a capable lad,” Niall said.
“Yes. I know he’s lived in the streets. I know he has good instincts. I know he’s learned much since he came to us. But does any of that make him capable of taking on Petra Scot and her ilk?” Kara demanded. “We have to find him. What if she gets him in her clutches?” Her voice lowered to a whisper. “But where? When do we start?”
“With Preston,” Niall said darkly. “What in blazes is the man up to?”
“Gyda is going to want to strangle us for the delay, but we need to find Harold.” Kara hopped to her feet and promptly swayed.
“Hold on there.” Niall was at her side in an instant. “You need breakfast.”
“I need to find Harold.”
He raised a hand. “I’ll send for train tickets and have the kitchens prepare a basket. We’ll take it with us.” He waved a hand before her. “While I am doing that, you have a wash and a change of clothes.”
“And a brush through her hair,” Turner murmured.
“All right,” Kara grumped. “Message received.”
Niall clapped a hand to his brow. “Odin’s arse, I nearly forgot Dalton. I’ll wake him.”
“I’m coming, too,” Turner stated.
No one argued.
“I am sure we can use you. We are going to need all the help we can get,” Niall said grimly.