Chapter 14 #2
“Never!” She glanced over her shoulder at Luke’s bruised and bloodied face, and she knew what she had to do to keep him safe. Turning back to face Peter, she declared, “I will come with you!”
“Please, Emma,” Luke whispered from behind her. “Don’t worry about me. Just run from here.”
Ignoring his plea, Emma squared her shoulders. “If you kill Luke,” she said, her voice stronger than she thought possible, “I will never stop trying to escape. I will never stop fighting you. But if you allow him to live, I will come with you… willingly.”
Peter seemed to consider her response, his pistol wavering. “Do you mean that?”
“I do,” she replied, nodding. “I give you my word. Please, just don’t kill him.”
“All right,” Peter said, lowering his weapon. He pointed towards a coach in front of Luke’s coach, blocking it in. “After you, my love.”
Emma turned around and threw her arms around Luke’s neck, ignoring the two thugs restraining him. “Thank you for everything. I love you.”
“Don’t do this, Emma,” Luke pleaded again. “Just run. I’ll be fine.”
Releasing him, she stepped back. “Tell Rachel that I love her.” She walked reluctantly towards the coach and accepted Peter’s assistance. She glanced over her shoulder, knowing she was making the right choice. She needed to keep Luke safe. This was her fault, not his.
Once she was situated, Peter sat across from her and closed the curtain over the window. “That was most exciting, was it not, my dear?”
“I think not,” Emma muttered.
The sound of the pistol discharging could be heard as the coach started moving. Her heart lurched at the noise. “NO!” she exclaimed, lunging for the carriage door.
Peter grabbed her and tossed her back against the bench.
“It’s best not to witness such atrocities,” Peter commented, completely unphased.
“Did they kill Luke?” she demanded, her chest heaving with anger.
“Of course,” he answered as his lips twitched. “I couldn’t very well leave any witnesses behind.”
“But you promised!” she cried as she lunged at him.
Peter caught her arms and held her close. “Frankly, my dear, my word doesn’t mean much,” he crooned.
Tears streamed down her cheeks. “Why are you doing this, Peter?”
“I told you,” he said, shoving her back against the bench. “You belong to me.”
“Never,” she responded. “I belong to no one.”
He chuckled. “Your spunk is adorable, but in time, you will learn respect.”
“How could you?” she sobbed. “Luke was my guardian. My friend.”
“No, he kept you from me and deserved to be punished.”
Wiping the tears streaming down her face, Emma lowered her gaze away from the man she once considered a friend.
He had killed Luke. He had promised her that he would let Luke live, but he’d broken his promise, which meant that she was free to break hers, as well.
And she would. She would never stop trying to escape Peter’s evil clutches.
Simeon let out a deep sigh as he saw Stone holding a pistol at his chest. If the gunpowder was detonated from the heat of the flaming arrow, then they were still well within the blast range.
“We don’t have time for this,” he declared loudly as he calculated the exact time it would take to reach for the gun in the waistband of his trousers.
Stone cocked the pistol. “I assure you that I do have time to kill you.”
“Possibly,” he replied, “but when that wicker basket catches on fire, it will be too late for both of us.”
Simeon glanced over his shoulder and saw that the fire was just starting to spread along the length of the wicker basket.
“Before you pull the trigger,” he tried again, “who gave you the order to blow up Grange Gardens?”
He could see the indecision on Stone’s face.
“Lord Revett told us to stop the growing skirmish,” Stone finally answered, “by any means necessary.”
“By killing thousands of people?” Simeon asked. “That was your plan?”
Stone sneered. “No, I’m…” His gaze shifted to over Simeon’s shoulder. “What the devil is that man doing?”
Looking over his shoulder, he saw Pembrooke dumping a bucket of water onto the basket, dousing the flame. He took advantage of the distraction to remove his pistol and turned back to face Stone.
“You’re under arrest,” Simeon declared, pointing his pistol at Stone’s chest. “Drop your weapon.”
Stone’s eyes narrowed as he shouted, “Never!”
The moment Stone’s finger twitched on the trigger, Simeon discharged his pistol, hitting Stone in the chest. With a loud grunt, Stone toppled down to the ground.
Pembrooke ran up and stood next to him. “The fire is out. I doused the gunpowder barrels with water as a precaution.”
“Good thinking. That will prevent them from igniting,” he remarked.
The roar of multiple gunshots went off in the distance.
“What the blazes was that?” Pembrooke asked.
Simeon turned his head towards the noise. “I don’t know, but it sounded like it came from a few blocks away.”
They took off sprinting and didn’t stop until they arrived at the ghastly scene, causing their steps to falter. Bodies were strewn along the ground, and a growing crowd was on the pavement, whispering and pointing in fascination. A few men were assisting the wounded to stand as they moaned in pain.
They approached cautiously until they saw a bruised and bloodied Lord Downshire standing over two bodies with a pistol in his hand.
“What happened?” Simeon shouted as he headed towards the marquess.
Downshire tucked the pistol into his waistband and wiped the blood off his face with the sleeve of his shirt.
“These imbeciles were no match for me.” He turned his head towards the coach as he cradled his left arm in his right hand. “I don’t suppose you know how to drive a coach?” he asked.
“I do. I worked undercover as a driver for an earl a few years back,” Simeon replied. “But first, what the devil happened here?”
A pained look came over Downshire’s expression. “Peter abducted Emma.”
“Lockhart did this?” Simeon roared.
“He did. We were ambushed, and Emma sacrificed herself to save me,” Downshire explained, wincing. “But Lockhart had no intention of letting me live. He waited until his coach pulled away before his men tried to kill me. It bought me enough time to formulate a plan.”
“Which was?”
“My plan was quite brilliant really. To overpower the men and avoid getting killed,” Downshire huffed.
Simeon pointed towards Downshire’s cradled left arm. “You’re injured.”
“It is nothing,” the marquess admitted. “I’ll send for a doctor later.”
Glancing up the street, Simeon asked, “Which way did they go?”
“That way,” Downshire said, pointing towards a side street.
Simeon turned towards Pembrooke. “You reported earlier that Lockhart’s residence is unknown,” he started, “but that’s when we were looking in London. He probably secured a house nearby that would allow his guards to go unnoticed. My guess is in the woods.”
“For what purpose?”
“He knows that by abducting Emma, and killing a marquess, he’s going to get a lot of attention, and the Sheriff of London will hunt him down personally,” Simeon explained. “He would want to lie low for a few weeks until it’s safe to travel on the roads again.”
“Agreed,” Pembrooke said. “I’ll look through bills of sale and see if I can find anything suspicious.” He turned his gaze towards Luke. “I would be happy to call a doctor for you.”
“Not necessary. I’m sure Eliza will send for one once she sees me,” Downshire responded as he walked over to the coach.
Simeon followed him and climbed up onto the driver’s box. “If you discover any additional information, please send it to Lord Lansdowne’s residence.”
“Perhaps it would be best if we reported this incident to Justice Ford before we proceed,” Pembrooke suggested.
“Good idea,” Simeon said, reaching for the reins. “You report this to Justice Ford, and I’ll drive Downshire to his sister’s house.”
Without waiting for Pembrooke to say another word, he urged the horses into a run and didn’t stop until they pulled up in front of Eliza’s townhouse.
Two footmen exited the main door and came to secure the coach as Simeon and Downshire jumped down and ran inside.
“Eliza!” Downshire shouted, his voice echoing off the floors of the marble entrance hall. “Where in the blazes are you?”
Benedict stepped out from the drawing room with his daughter, Caroline, in his arms. “What happened to you, Luke?”
“Lockhart abducted Emma,” Simeon answered.
Eliza’s steady voice came from the top of the stairs. “When?”
“About twenty minutes ago,” Downshire shared.
Placing her hand on her increasing stomach, Eliza turned towards a footman stationed at the bottom of the stairs and ordered, “Go inform Lord Camden that his presence is requested in our drawing room immediately.”
To Simeon’s surprise, the footman ran up the stairs to the second landing to do her bidding. His expression must have given away his curiosity because Eliza shared, “Adrien was gracious enough to add a door on the second landing between our two townhouses.”
“Interesting,” he muttered.
“Adrien is a bloody nuisance at times,” Benedict said, his tone holding only mirth, “but the door has proven useful on multiple occasions.”
A maid approached Benedict and announced, “It’s time for her nap, milord.”
Benedict kissed his daughter on the cheek and handed her off to the maid.
The maid walked Caroline up to Eliza, who had just stepped down from the last stair, and she also kissed her daughter on the cheek. “I love you,” she whispered. Then her tone grew alert as she turned her gaze towards the group. “Follow me to the drawing room. We have much to discuss.”
Following Eliza into the drawing room, Simeon waited until she lowered herself down onto a velvet settee before he sat across from her. Downshire walked over to the drink cart and poured himself a drink. After he downed it, he poured himself another.