Chapter 17
Edwina wasn’t sure what to think, never mind what to do. Her hands shook, and the rest of her body felt like it might never move again. The last few moments remained a blur of incomprehensible actions. She still couldn’t fathom what had occurred. It had all happened so fast, and now…
“Bloody hell,” someone muttered, though she knew not who, besides the fact that it came from the group who’d just entered the room.
Another concern to be faced, yet she couldn’t quite seem to focus on that when…
She’d killed a man.
A horrible, awful man to be sure, but did that make it justifiable?
No. Yes. Maybe.
Sending awareness into the hand that had grabbed the dagger protruding from him and shoved it back in, she realized it was wet. The blood registered for the first time and her stomach drew back up against her spine.
Oh God.
This couldn’t be real.
Her heart began drumming with choppy beats, and her breath came in rapid bursts. She started wiping her hand on her skirt, desperate to clean away every trace of Mr. Grover from her skin.
He’d wanted to sell her. And who would have walked away with her but a monster?
“Stop right there,” said the man who’d sent the dagger flying.
Edwina froze in response to his lethal tone and shifted her gaze. He still held one hand toward her, beckoning her to accompany him. In his other hand was a pistol, which he pointed at those who’d forced their way into the room.
“What have you done?” one of the men demanded to know.
“What any of you would likely have done, had you discovered the truth about Mr. Grover’s intentions.” Edwina’s would-be savior flexed his fingers, encouraging her to grasp his hand with increased urgency.
But he’d bid on her and won. Who was to say he wasn’t as bad as the rest? Or worse. How could she be certain that she would not become his prisoner if she went with him?
There was no guarantee, but if she refused to go with him, her fate would likely be worse. To try to escape on her own would be impossible. She’d not even get through the door.
“Turns out, Mr. Grover was going to rob us all blind.” The masked man glanced at Edwina and jerked his head to one side.
Come on. Let’s go. To the room at large, he added, “He was planning to vanish with all the items we’d bid on, along with our bearer bonds, which he would have cashed at the banks while we stupidly waited for his return. That man there was his accomplice.”
One of the other masked men stepped forward, dropped to a crouch, and snatched the mask from the man who lay near the entrance. “Christ. This is Henshaw.”
“I’m not surprised,” said the man who still extended his hand in Edwina’s direction.
“Never struck me as the honorable sort. Turns out I was correct. When I demanded the right to examine my master’s prize — a privilege one would think a hundred thousand pounds might grant me – and I ignored Mr. Grover’s opposition, Henshaw tried to kill me. ”
“What?” Shock imbued the singular word, which was spoken by more than one person.
Edwina hedged her bets. The man who’d killed Henshaw made a good argument. She could either trust him or the rest of the men; a larger group she had no chance of fighting alone.
Decided, she grabbed the hand of the man who’d asked her to trust him, and allowed his strength to help her rise.
“Now, if you don’t mind,” he said, addressing the others, “I mean to leave with my winnings and vanish before the hotel staff learns of what has occurred. Anyone trying to stop me will get a lead ball between the eyes.”
He moved his hand from Edwina’s, grasping her by her upper arm instead, and yanked her with him as he proceeded toward the exit.
Her heart stuttered, and she suddenly wondered if she’d been mistaken in her decision to accompany him so willingly.
Maybe she should have fought harder. Perhaps the death such an effort would lead to would be preferred to whatever else waited for her.
They reached the other men, and his hold on her arm tightened as he drew her close to his side.
“Let us pass,” he said, his tone assuring them all that they’d meet the same fate as Henshaw and Grover, if they refused.
There was a beat, during which Edwina scarcely dared breathe. And then one of the other men said, “I’m grabbing what I was promised and getting the hell out of here before my name gets tied to all this.”
The rest of the group murmured their agreement and started toward the spot where the auctioned items remained.
“Does this mean I don’t get paid?” asked a man who remained near the door.
“Afraid so, unless you find the money you’re due in your employer’s pockets.” Edwina’s escort sent a nod over his shoulder, and the other man quickly moved off, allowing them to make their exit.
“Who are you?” she asked again.
Not answering, he steered her toward the left, past other guests who’d been at the auction but hadn’t yet disappeared into the rooms where they were meant to be staying.
They stared at Edwina and the man leading her forward at a brisk pace.
Then, realizing something was amiss, they hastened past them, back to the auction room to find out what had occurred.
“Can I at least have a name?” she asked when they reached the end of the hallway. He yanked a door open and shoved her into a narrow stairway.
“Murry,” he said as he shut the door.
Before she could form her next question, he’d grabbed her hand once more and was pulling her along with him. She gasped, nearly tripping on the hem of her skirt and barreling into him as they descended the stairs.
When they reached the next landing and she was able to find some traction, she leaned back forcefully, though not enough to bring the man to an absolute halt. Another attempt did the trick, earning her an exasperated sigh.
“We left two corpses up there, along with a group of men sure to question the logic of what I just told them as soon as they have a second to think.” Frustration showed in the set of his jaw. “We have to keep moving.”
“Not until you assure me that I’m not exchanging one hell for another,” she told him. When he didn’t respond right away she added, “You are a masked stranger who was prepared to pay a hundred thousand pounds for me. How can I know—”
“Your brother asked my employer to help him find you, discreetly. I’m here on both their behalf. Now if you don’t mind…” He started descending the steps once more.
This time, Edwina followed without hesitation. Even though she knew there was every possibility Murry was lying — that he was merely trying to make her comply – trusting him, for now, would at least ensure that she managed to get away from this place.
From above, came the sound of a door slamming open, then a voice, muffled by stone and distance. “I saw them go this way.”
The clatter of footsteps followed.
Edwina’s pulse leapt. She grabbed her skirts, lifting the hem so they wouldn’t impede her while racing after Murry. Down another flight they went. Her heart slammed into her ribs, and she gasped.
“Whoever that bastard was, he tricked us all,” a voice echoed.
“Don’t look back,” Murry warned her while pulling her with him. “Just run.”
She took his advice, hastening after him as fast as she could, even as the sound of footfalls behind her grew nearer.
She leapt off the last step. A zing of pain jolted her knees. There was no time to recover as Murry was once again on the move, insisting she match his pace. Lord, but her lungs burned, and her feet ached.
She couldn’t keep going. She needed a break.
Only half an hour ago, her body had still lacked the strength denied by the smoke Mr. Grover gave her.
She’d been weightless, unable to reason her way through the simplest thought.
And now she was fleeing the scene of a crime she’d helped commit, along with a dozen or so angry men who would probably murder both her and Murry if they managed to catch them.
Her feet began dragging. Heaviness filled her legs and torso. To rest, if only for a brief second, would be—
Before she’d completed the thought, her body was being lifted and turned by a pair of large hands. The world around her tilted. Blood rushed to her head, and she squealed, then gasped when her stomach was shoved down over a solid surface.
A muscular arm curled around her midsection, securing her against Murry’s shoulder. Her head bounced against his back while he ran, carrying her like a bag of grain.
Instinct compelled her to voice her protests and put up a struggle, but reason won out.
She’d been on the verge of collapse and he’d sensed it. If they were to evade the men giving chase, then this was the only way.
A door was thrust open, and then they were in a hallway, the voices at their back growing louder as Murry raced onward. He might be faster than them on his own, but now her added weight was weighing him down and…
If they caught up, if they managed to overpower him and steal her away…
She dared not think of what that would mean for her future. So she set her mind to praying for luck to be on their side, even as one of the men behind them called out, “There they are. You there, stop or I’ll shoot.”
Heaven help her.
Instead of breaking his stride, Murry pulled Edwina off his shoulder. He placed her between himself and a door through which she could glimpse the outdoors through a small oval window.
“Open it,” he instructed.
She did as requested as fast as she could, turning the lock while he shielded her with his body.
A booming sound split the air when she pressed down the handle, and Murry produced a loud grunt.
But the door was now open, and she hurried through it, toward the boy who’d arrived with Murry, and a woman Edwina did not know.
Murry stumbled after her, his hands catching the edge of the door and pushing it shut. Gasping for breath, he grabbed the handle and leaned back, putting his weight into holding it closed against those now trying to force it open.