Chapter Forty-Four
Lady Mary
I leaned backward, increasing the pressure of the knife on Eleanor’s ropes. She gasped in pain, but I ignored it. I couldn’t concern myself with minor cuts and scrapes now. I’d feel badly about hurting Eleanor later.
If there was a later.
A sound I wished I wasn’t familiar with met my ears. The whoosh and crackle of fire eating wood. The glow at the door brightened, and I knew the front of my club was in flames.
I swallowed. Something else I’d wait to feel badly about.
“Pull at your wrists,” I hissed at Eleanor. We’d cut through more rope. I could feel the give beneath the blade. She must be close to being free.
“I am pulling.” The heat in Eleanor’s voice matched that of the fire. “It’s just not…Oh!”
The pressure at the knife disappeared. Then Eleanor took the blade from my hand. “I’m free. Let me get the rope at my ankle then I’ll free you.”
I wasn’t sure I appreciated that order, but I bit my tongue and waited for Eleanor to cut me loose.
When she finally did, I shook out my hands as she freed my leg.
I didn’t object when she helped me stand.
My legs felt unsteady, and I didn’t know if it was from my muscles cramping from being tied up, from the traces of smoke I could now smell, or from fear.
I sniffed. It had better not be that last one. “The back door. Let’s go.”
We trotted for the exit, only to find it locked.
“I don’t suppose you have the key on you?” Eleanor asked.
I inhaled sharply. “I do not.”
“Then we’ll have to sneak out the front.” Eleanor turned and started forward. Her shin banged into the low stage, and a very unladylike word came from her mouth.
I pointed to the doorway, and the figure standing in it. “I echo that oath.”
Miss Abbott held her candle high, blinking in disbelief at the empty chairs and then at us. “How…?” Her mouth clamped shut, and she fumbled to open her reticule.
I pushed Eleanor onto the stage, heaving myself up behind her. There were some rooms behind the platform, to hold sets and allow the cast to change for any plays they put on. We could barricade ourselves inside.
And be trapped for the fire that was coming.
It was one hell of a choice, setting oneself up to either burn to death or allowing oneself to be shot. My instincts screamed to delay the inevitable as long as possible. Time meant hope, and avoiding being shot gave us a few more moments of life.
Miss Abbott pulled her gun from her bag before we made it to the stage door. The wood of the door jamb exploded as a bullet smashed into it. Eleanor and I froze.
Miss Abbott stalked toward the stage, holding the candle in one hand and her pistol in the other. “I will be very happy to be rid of the pair of you.”
Eleanor stepped in front of me, holding the knife out, the dear, silly girl. “It won’t look like fire killed us. There will be holes in our bodies. The authorities will know someone killed us, and my mother is in custody.”
Miss Abbott climbed the two steps onto the stage. “At this point, I don’t care.”
I looked around, hoping a spear or sword from the latest play had been left out on the stage. I saw nothing. Except for a loop of rope.
Miss Abbott stalked closer, she and Eleanor facing off against each other.
I sidled toward the wall that held the rope. I needed Miss Abbott in just the right position on the stage. I needed Eleanor out of the way. And I needed this all to happen before Abbott shot us.
“It’s no wonder Lady Richford ran back to her husband.” Eleanor took a step to her left. “You’re a soulless, heartless creature. No one could love you.”
With a few flicks of my wrist, I loosened the figure eight shape of the rope, holding the weight of the stage curtain in my hand.
“She did love me!” Miss Abbott stumbled forward, the muzzle of her weapon centering on Eleanor’s chest. “But she was weak. She listened to her family instead of her heart. And we all paid the cost. Just like you will now.” She closed one eye, aiming at Eleanor.
A blur of black and white shot from stage left and collided into Miss Abbott just as I dropped the curtain.
A shot rang out, and Eleanor screamed.