Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Liston’s secretary shot Richard a cautious glance and made himself scarce.
When they had returned from Richard’s disastrous meeting with Lily the previous night, the ambassador had suggested, politely, that they avoid “disturbing” Sahin Pasha or other officials for a few days.
He hinted that Richard might calm himself first. “Delicate diplomacy, Glenaire, delicate is called for.” Richard had raged; the ambassador had reasoned.
This afternoon, Liston merely disappeared.
The first time Richard asked to see Liston, the man’s secretary cheerfully refused him.
The second time he tugged at his elaborate cravat and fidgeted nervously in his chair.
The third time the full wrath of a frustrated marquess came down on the man’s thinning hair. His swift departure prevented a fourth.
You know better than to berate a servant. It isn’t his fault Liston made himself unavailable all morning. Damn Liston anyway.
Liston wouldn’t dare forbid the Marquess of Glenaire, son and heir of the Duke of Sudbury and Castlereagh’s own protégé, from appearing at the palace unannounced and alone, but he had come damned close, and now he avoided Richard completely.
The image of Lily pregnant with his child haunted his dreams and bedeviled his day.
She’s locked in the damned Seraglio and won’t talk to me—not that talk has gotten me anywhere so far.
His urge to act, frustrated at every turn, refused to die.
It roiled in his gut and drove him to pace like a madman.
Richard prowled the embassy, frightening the maids and growling at footmen. Only the boy who cleaned the steps found him amusing.
“Sunny day, Lord English,” the boy said. “Good day for walk.”
I haven’t slept, Lily refuses to see reason, and Liston refuses to petition Sahin Pasha. Why should I care about the day?
He spun on his heels, went back in, and slammed the door. In the reverberating sound of the slamming door, a second thought struck him.
Why not a walk—to the wharf perhaps? What harm would it do to leave a calling card for Sahin Pasha?
Moments later, hat on head and cane in hand, he went back out the door. The cane, with its cleverly concealed sword, normally sat in Liston’s private office. He took it without qualms. It serves him right for avoiding me all afternoon.
“Best not get lost,” the boy told him when he ran down the steps. “I can show you where you want to go. I know everything.”
Richard ignored him. He gripped the cane, glad for its support. I’m not a total fool.
“Getting late, Lord English! Best not go far,” the boy shouted after him.
After the second wrong turn, he wished he’d taken the boy for a guide.
After a third, he thought he had his bearings, but light faded and he dared not retrace his steps through the maze of streets.
He peered downhill through a narrow passage to see golden light at the far end.
The docks were all downhill. From there he could pay someone to take him back to the embassy. What a fool’s errand!
He gripped the sword cane tightly and started down the narrow passage.
After he passed one heavy wooden door and then another, he reached the halfway point.
Below him, a tall turbaned figure turned into the passage, briefly blocking the light.
Richard could see a small person covered with veils behind him followed closely by another tall man.
A wealthy woman and her guards, he supposed. Those bruisers won’t look kindly on a foreigner blocking her way.
Caught in the narrow passage, he would have to go back or push himself against the wall. Before he could formulate a response, the farthest man fell like a rock, a door opened in front of the trio, and a swarm of dark figures spewed out.
Richard could see the taller guard under attack from at least three men; the woman needed help. He ran toward the attack when hands reached out to grab her. Sprinting downhill, he saw her twist to escape and run toward her first guard. Her veils fell away.
Lily! What on earth?
Richard ran faster; icy fear and blood red rage drove him downhill into Lily’s attackers.
The remaining bodyguard blocked his way.
The man wrestled with three of them, knife slashing, arms straining.
Richard’s sword found one attacker, but another took his place. They seemed to multiply in the dark.
Brief snatches of Lily appeared behind the melee. He could see flowing ribbons of bright green silk ripple and jerk. He struggled to focus on the attackers. He felled one attacker with an uppercut that would make Jackson proud, but another blocked him.
Concentrate. You’re no good to her dead.
Lily’s screams tore at him, and he fought like an animal.
The guard went down at last, a dagger in his ribs.
Over his body Richard saw a hood go over Lily’s head, muffling her screams. He pulled his attention back a moment too late.
Searing pain exploded in his head, and he fell forward into darkness.
The voice Richard longed to hear all day came to him in the dark. It must be a dream.
A moment later hands attached to the dream began prodding him in places that hurt like the devil. “Richard! Damn it, wake up.”
Lily?
“Did you have me kidnapped? Those men could have injured me, you insane man.”
Don’t be an idiot. How could Lily believe that, even in a nightmare?
Cool hands pushed his hair from his brow. Not my head; it hurts like hell itself.
“Please wake up. Don’t die on me. Please don’t die and leave me alone with these men.”
Men—Lily! The shot of memory sent him bolt upright. The pain in his head put him back down with a groan. His eyes flickered open and blinked twice to clear.
Lily’s face, deep in shadow, came close, concern marring it. “Not so fast,” she said. “I think they hit you very hard.”
“They nearly took my head off,” he groaned.
“I was afraid you wouldn’t waken,” she said, her voice sounded wet with tears.
“I have a hard head,” he reassured her. Memory flickered. “I thought I heard you a moment ago. Did you really accuse me of having you kidnapped?”
“Maybe.” She sounded guilty. “But that wouldn’t make sense. You wouldn’t harm the baby. I know you wouldn’t.”
“Is he—” He tried to rise again, but she pushed him back down.
“She’s fine. I’m fine, for now at least.”
“I would never hurt you either, Lily.”
Did she just sniff?
“I thought you had left us.”
“I’m here,” he said, looking around. He could see little in deepening darkness. “Where ever ‘here’ is. Is there no light, or are my eyes failing?”
“No windows, and I fear night has fallen.”
He could see her in outline, one shadow darker than the rest of the room.
“Do you have any idea where we are?”
She shook her head. “They hooded me. They pulled off the hood and pushed me in the door before I got a good look. We can’t have gone far from the quay because two of them carried me here.”
“From the feel of my back, I was dragged.”
“Possibly. A few moments after they left me here, they opened the door and dropped you on the floor.”
Richard felt along his sides. “Stone floor. No wonder I’m cold. Help me to sit.”
He cried out in pain when Lily put an arm under his shoulders, but he pushed himself forward. She helped him feel his way to the wall. He sagged against it and pulled her close with one arm, savoring her warmth.
“No furniture?”
“Nothing. An empty room. I’m not even sure it is a room exactly.” She put one arm around his waist and lay her head against his shoulder. He could feel the swell of the growing child by his side. He forced himself not to shudder. Don’t give in to fear now. It won’t help her.
“Tell me what you saw. Tell me what you heard.” He fought back waves of pain and focused his mind on what mattered. Lily. Danger. The baby. Our baby.
“I heard nothing until the attack,” she said. He heard her gulp. When she spoke again, her voice sounded thick. “I turned on a sound and saw the guard—that poor man—they cut his throat. My fault. I insisted on coming even though Sahin warned me.”
“Hush, hush.” Time for recrimination later. “What next?”
“I tried to run, but they grabbed at me from behind, and more of them attacked—” She swallowed convulsively. “Oh God! They killed Ahmet. He was my friend.”
He could hear rising panic from the memories she voiced.
“Concentrate on details.” He tightened his arm around her.
“Attackers wore black, but you must know that. I saw you. You ran down the passage like a madman.”
Like a fool right into their hands. If he had stopped to think he might have been able to—what? He didn’t know. “It was not my finest hour,” he said.
“You were magnificent.”
Her praise gave him courage. I have to get Lily out of here.
“I don’t feel magnificent. What else do you remember? Did you hear their voices?”
“Not well. The hood muffled sound. Some Turkish and something else—Arabic perhaps. I heard an odd word or two of Russian, ‘woman’ and ‘money.’”
“Volkov.”
“Perhaps. They didn’t talk to me. They just put me here. I called for help. I called for light. I called to demand their names. I heard nothing until they brought you in.”
“What did you see when the door opened?”
“Not much. This space is tiny. I think it is a storage closet.”
No room. No weapons. No light. Richard let out a groan of frustration. No strength either. He cursed loudly.
The door swung open.
“Such language in front of a lady!” A disembodied voice mocked him in heavily accented English. Light from a lantern in the hands of the man in the doorway blinded Richard.
“The lady and the marquess also. What a delightful, unexpected bonus.”