“Mayhap it was a ruse meant to distract us from our search,” Miss Huntsbury put in.
“I imagine you’re correct. Of course, our current plan has failed,” Maria stated baldly. “Despite our efforts, Francis not only continues to have access to Jasper’s home, but has redoubled his efforts. We need to formulate a new course of action.”
“In that we agree. What of your assignment last evening?” Miss Huntsbury asked. “I learned of the most recent note, but naught else.”
With quick, succinct words, Maria detailed the events of their evening and her encounter with Francis. “If it had not been for the duke’s interruption, Francis would have overpowered me,” she continued. “I’ve come to the conclusion that we as runners require more weaponry and further training in combat as we advance.”
“Again, we are in full agreement,” Miss Huntsbury replied. “I am still in search of possible candidates?—”
“I beg your pardon, Miss Huntsbury.” Mr. Percy Baxter stepped forward and exchanged a long glance with Lord Livingston, which ended in them both nodding in some sort of accord, before Baxter returned his attention to Miss Huntsbury. “I would be honoured to offer my services.”
Miss Huntsbury’s eyebrows rose and the dimples on her cheeks deepened as she considered him. “Have you much experience with close combat and weaponry?”
A faint flush rose up the man’s cheeks, but he maintained eye contact with the woman. “I do, yes.”
Curious, Jasper mused. The man was inscrutable, yet Jasper didn’t doubt his ability to wield a weapon.
“I can attest to his skill,” Livingston offered.
Miss Huntsbury eyed Baxter curiously for several long moments before breaking into a smile. “Thank you for your kind offer, Mr. Baxter. We would be glad to have you among our ranks.”
* * *
“Like so,”Mr. Percy Baxter concluded, replacing the newly loaded pistol on the dining table with athunk. “Despite the additional step, it has been proven the swifter and more efficient method of reloading your flintlock—and it is easier to accomplish in battle. Now, this would be different for a double-barrelled flintlock, but you will learn that later.”
The wave of relief that had spread through Maria when the man offered to help continued to ripple through her as he spoke. He had only begun his instruction an hour hence, and Maria already felt so much more prepared than before.
They’d begun their instruction by retrieving all their weaponry, laying them out on the dining table, and engaging in a review of what she, Heather, Juliana, and Grace already knew about each piece—which had been a rather great deal. But Baxter knew more.
“I wish I’d known that months ago,” Juliana grumbled.
“There is, of course, much more to learn,” Mr. Baxter continued, “particularly with regards to aiming and shooting?—”
“Do we not merely point and pull the trigger?” Heather inquired.
He tilted his head sideways and shrugged one shoulder. “One could shoot that way—and many do—but you would be likely to incur an injury in your hand or wrist. You would also have little hope of hitting your target with any accuracy.”
“Mr. Greene mentioned that in his instruction,” Juliana began, “but before he left, we’d not had many opportunities to learn.”
“Or practise,” Heather offered.
There was a heavy knock from the front door, and the group of them glanced at each other. The women and Mr. Baxter stood around the dining table, while Leonard—Lord Livingston—and Jasper sat in chairs and conversed at the other side of the room.
“It could be a client,” Grace said, as though reading the path of Maria’s thoughts.
The knock sounded again before there was a deafeningbangand a cry of pain.
As one, they rushed for the foyer as their only footman, James, opened the door, and Thomas tumbled through it to the floor.
“Thomas!” Maria hurried forward to kneel at his side.
And then she saw it: seeping through his coat and onto the floor was dark, glistening blood. Horror froze her throat, and she instantly pressed her hands to the tear in the side of his coat, hoping to stem the blood’s flow.
“Thomas?”
The fear that had taken hold of her tightened as though a fist clutched her heart, the icy sensation spreading through her to the tips of her fingers. Thomas was unconscious.
“He’s been shot!” she said to the group behind her.
