Less than an hour later, the four men arrived at the warehouse. Shadows loomed across the abandoned building, its doors slightly ajar.
“I’d have never thought this was a warehouse. It looks more like a factory,” Landon said. “Do you think he’s in there?”
“Oh, I’d wager he’s here,” Danforth said grimly. “From what my man gleaned, he’s used an empty warehouse on the outskirts of town before. Where no one can hear any screams.”
“We need to hurry,” Julian said, feeling desperate to get to Serafina. He opened the door.
“First, we need to take care of those four,” Landon said, pointing to the men approaching them with big wooden clubs. “Are you up to it, Strathmoor?”
Julian was so full of fury, he was ready to battle a bear. And despite his bruises, he was in better condition than the men who’d tried to kill him. His new friends had helped him take care of that. “I’ll not let a few cuts and scrapes deter me.”
“You two take the ones on the left, and Danforth and I will take the ones on the right,” Richmond said to Landon and Julian.
Ten minutes later, the fight was over, Julian and his friends had easily dispatched them; the miscreants would be incapacitated for quite some time. Clearly, the baron had sent his best fighters to try to kill Julian.
As they were tying up the unconscious men, three runners arrived with the magistrate.
“My ward’s inside, kidnapped by Baron Grimsby,” Richmond said. “He plotted and attempted the murder of the Duke of Strathmoor. I want the man taken into custody and prosecuted to the full reach of the law,” Richmond said. “You can deal with these bastards, then join us inside.”
Julian opened the door and ran in.I’m coming Serafina.I’m coming, my darling.
He prayed she was all right. And if she wasn’t, he would send Grimsby to hell.
CHAPTER 13
Serafina sat against the wall in a large, dingy room, holding Willow while a mouse patiently waited for her to finish her meal—some kind of foul-smelling stew that she had no plans to eat. “Here, little one. You take it,” she said, setting the plate down in front of the mouse.
Willow shifted in Serafina’s arms and gave a soft woof.
Serafina looked into her dog’s soft brown eyes and shook her head. “What am I going to do with you?” She kissed the dog’s little nose. “You are the bravest, but most stubborn dog in the world.”
Willow licked Serafina’s face in reply.
A chuckle escaped Serafina despite the dire situation they were in.
Willow had escaped Martha’s hold in the carriage and, despite her injured paw, had run after Serafina and her captor. When the almost toothless brute placed Serafina in a nearby carriage, the smart little dog jumped in while he wasn’t looking. Somehow, Serafina had managed to keep Willow hidden beneath her cloak as the brute dragged her out of the carriage and into this dark and dank building. The puppy’s bravery only fueled Serafina’s determination to escape.
Willow glanced at the plate of food and let out a questioning, barely audible, woof.
“You don’t want to eat that either, Willow. Trust me.”
Willow gave a little huff and snuggled back down onto Serafina’s lap.
She desperately needed a weapon of some sort. Her gaze traveled around the room. There were small windows along the top of one wall, but the glass panes had been painted black, a sign that this had been one of the sweatshops where orphans or children from impoverished families were forced to work—she’d heard of those vile places. Thankfully, it was still light out. She could see the sun’s rays filtering through the cracked and peeling paint on the windows. It appeared to be late afternoon, and given that it was November, Serafina didn’t have much daylight left. That did not bode well for her and Willow. They had to escape before nightfall.
The room was large but filthy, and she could see puddles of standing water scattered throughout. One of the windows even looked to be broken, given that she could feel a breeze coming from outside. She welcomed the fresh air, even though it was very cold in the room. She must be in the cellar of the warehouse, she reasoned.
The squeaks and scratches from the mouse drew Serafina’s attention and she watched as the small creature readily took its fill from the plate, then carried some of the larger pieces of whatever kind of mystery meat was in the stew back into a small hole in the wall. Small cries from behind the wall told her there were baby mice. All the things she had heard about mice had never prepared her for this poignant image of a mother feeding her young. A knot formed in her stomach as she recalled Mrs. Atwell discussing poisoning the creatures just the other day. When she got out of here, she would think of another solution to rid the kitchen of mice. Something more humane.
She got up and, holding Willow in her arms, began to search for something she could use as a weapon. There had to be something.
“The plan is coming together?” a familiar voice said from some location outside the room.The baron. She froze, her pulse pounding in her ears with fear. She held Willow tighter. Thank goodness she had left the baron’s note with Martha. By now, she hoped, the duchesses would have taken it to her uncle. Uncle Carlton would be furious about her disobedience, but he would search for her.
“You’ve killed that pesky artist,” she heard the baron say.
“Yes, my lord. I sent five of your best men after we brought her here,” the voice of the man with the missing teeth said.
Julian dead? Oh God! Five men against Julian… Could he survive such a beating? What if they wielded knives or pistols?
