Chapter Fifteen #3
In short, everything she’d thought she’d desired. But Neville—the husband she’d never wanted—had become her deepest need.
When had that happened? Sometime during the rare intimacy they’d shared, intimacy they’d only just begun to explore? Or had they been connected from the start—two hurling bodies, destined to collide much like they had collided last summer in the maze?
No matter what the answer, she and Neville were now connected. And she knew with fanatic fervor that if Willard killed Neville, he’d have to kill her, too.
If she didn’t take him down first.
She spotted the lights of the tollkeeper’s cottage through the gloom, and she and Asquith both turned into the courtyard.
At first, she let Asquith do the talking.
But when Mr. Dixon himself emerged from the cottage, she requested the tollkeeper allow her and Asquith a private audience with the Runner.
In response, the tollkeeper agreed to brush down, blanket, and water the horses while she and Asquith conferred with the Runner and then led away the animals.
A quarter hour later, she, as “Manny,” and Asquith were seated at the tollkeeper’s table.
She’d no doubt the Runner knew she was not a man, but Dixon did not challenge her when she introduced herself, thereby ensuring they were able to speak freely of topics that would not have been considered fit for a lady’s ears.
Mr. Dixon, a man of middling age whose kindly, round face was at odds with his incisive brown eyes, laid out the information he’d been able to glean. Millie listened to the conversation, while also glancing through the toll book.
“If his lordship is being held here,” Mr. Dixon said, “I don’t think he’s being held in the main house.”
“Why?” Asquith asked.
“First of all, there are at least two other men down from London. A gent might participate in the debauchery Willard offers without fear of reprisal, but I’m doubtful anyone would be part to the abduction of an earl. That’s a hanging offense.”
“Rape is a felony, too,” Millie replied.
“Though a dammed difficult one to prove,” Dixon said. “The women may have been brought to the lodge against their will but, from what I understand, they move freely about the property.”
“He has some hold on them,” she replied.
Dixon nodded.
Millie shivered involuntarily. Were it not for Neville, Sarah, and her own initiative, she could have been one of them.
“How many are there?”
“At least three,” Dixon said.
Asquith’s eyes widened, then narrowed. “The devil,” he murmured.
“The crime of rape is more than likely,” Dixon continued. “But convicting Willard is a different story. The last peer to be charged with a rape was Lord Castlehaven, and that was almost two hundred years ago.”
“And”—Asquith cleared his throat—“the cause included other accusations. The only time the peerage holds the peerage accountable is when the peerage itself is threatened.”
“But Willard is not a peer,” Millie reminded. “Not yet at least. His is a courtesy title.”
“He is Eltenham’s son and heir,” Asquith reminded.
“Even so, we could make the attempt to bring him to justice,” Dixon said. “There have been fewer acquittals in cases of ravishment of late. Most of those have been on the grounds the prosecutrix failed to appear in court.”
Millie couldn’t blame the women who’d failed to attend the trials.
She wasn’t sure she’d be willing to sit on display in a witness a box, let alone recount intimate violations to a room full of strangers. On the other hand, she wasn’t willing to let Willard go unpunished.
“We have to make the attempt,” she said.
“At the very least, we will free them.”
In Asquith’s face, Millie read the resolve of a man who understood Willard’s nature. She nodded in acknowledgment of his resolve and then returned her attention to the book. Whatever conveyance the villains had used to bring Neville to the lodge would have had to pass through this very gate.
Tollkeepers generally only noted the amount of toll paid, the type of vehicle, the load’s weight, and the number of horses drawing the vehicle, or the number of animals in a drove.
However, the Runner, when he’d first arrived a few days prior, had asked the tollkeeper to take more detailed notes on the people passing through.
Single male rider, velocipede, around the age of majority.
Huh. Velocipede. A ridiculous contraption. And quite expensive as well. One of Willard’s bucks, perhaps?
Two horse carriage, two young men.
Vicar horseback, on his way through to the parish next town over.
Hay cart single male driver in livery.
She paused. In livery? “I think I’ve found it.”
She flipped back through the pages seeking another entry for a haycart. The weight the tollkeeper had recorded from the weighbridge was off enough to cover a man of Neville’s size.
“I’m sure I’ve found it,” she repeated with confidence. She showed Asquith and Dixon.
“You’ve an eye for this sort of work,” Dixon said.
“Don’t tempt her,” Asquith replied.
Millie sent Asquith a withering expression.
“—ah, him,” Asquith corrected.
“I think we may drop the subterfuge,” Dixon interjected. “This is no place for a lady, even one as intrepid as you.”
Millie acknowledged his praise with a nod. “Were you just saying you didn’t think he was being held in the house?”
The runner shook his head. “The few local boys I pay to keep watch haven’t seen anything unusual at the main house. But that cart did deliver a load of hay to the barn earlier today.”
“Then I think we should go investigate the barn now.” Asquith flattened his hands against the table. “Mil—anny—you stay here. You can send warning if anyone suspicious passes through.”
“The tollkeeper’s son can do that job well enough!” Millie passed a hand over the pocket where she had the pistol stored. “I told you why it must be me.” She turned to Dixon. “I’m a better shot than he is.”
“And I was a marksman with the 95th,” Dixon replied. “No one is a good shot in the dark. Even with my Baker’s rifle, I couldn’t be certain I’d take out a threat at a distance tonight.”
“You’ve the greater expertise.” Millie inclined her head. “But that is my husband in there. I am willing to risk my life. And I recently escaped ravishment by Willard—and managed to disarm him, too.”
“Again, impressive,” Dixon said. “What about Willard? And the women? I cannot enter a gentleman’s house without cause, you shouldn’t either.”
“Asquith can keep Willard occupied at the house. Dixon, you can keep watch. I’ll enter the barn and free my husband. Then, Neville, Dixon and I will join Asquith. We will all do what we can to save those girls.”
Asquith and Dixon exchanged some unspoken communication.
“Perhaps we should see first to the barn and then decide how to proceed?” Asquith suggested.
“Very well,” Millie replied. “But I warn you. You’ll have to physically restrain me if you mean to keep me from that barn.”
Dixon sighed. “I suggest we all cover the barn. Then, we deal with whatever awaits in the house.” He began sketching the barn’s layout from what he’d been able to obtain by report and by external observation.
When finished, he pointed out the doors.
“The barn has two entrances. I will cover the main entrance, and Asquith can keep watch on the rear.” He turned to Asquith.
“Signal me if you see anyone approach.” He glanced back at Millie “Go in—but come out as quickly as you possibly can, else I intend to join you.”
Millie nodded. She’d expected Dixon to offer even less.
“I understand they are not kept locked,” Dixon continued. “At least they were not kept locked before they brought in his lordship. If that has changed, there is a window that faces the woods. Do you think you can manage—”
“I can get in or out of any building,” Millie replied. She hadn’t earned the title Clandestine Escape Scholar by chance.
“Unusual lady,” Dixon remarked.
“You don’t know the half,” Asquith muttered.
“There are any number of ladies like me,” she replied curtly. “Only making a show of our talents is not in our best interests. Shall we go?”
A life was at stake. The life of the man she loved.