Without another word, he extracted his own weapon and ran into the tangled undergrowth, going full speed toward where he had seen what could have been a dove-gray gown. He ran until his pulse pounded. Until his lungs ached and burned. Briars clawed at him, tearing at his coat and trousers, slicing into his flesh. He was impervious to them all, single-minded in his pursuit.
He found a path and followed it, praying it was not a deer trail. It twisted and curved, and then, suddenly he found himself in a clearing. And there, in the midst of it, stood Miss Palliser facing him, her arm around the lad’s thin shoulders, the barrel of a small pistol pressed to his son’s temple.
“Do not come any nearer,” she warned. “Stay where you are, and the young duke will remain safe.”
His breath left him. He had a pistol in his hand, but he dared not raise it for fear the unhinged woman might pull the trigger, killing Edward.
“Papa,” Edward called, hiccupping, his eyes—Ara’s eyes—wide with fright.
It was the first time his son had referred to him as his father. It should have been an occasion for joy. A celebration. Instead, he was gripped with horror. The sight of his son, terrified and helpless and in the clutches of this madwoman, nearly undid him.
He forced his numb lips to speak. His training had taught him the best method of defense when the enemy had the upper hand was distraction. Distract, make them weak, and then press your advantage at just the right moment.
“You may as well surrender yourself now, Miss Palliser,” he said with a calm that was far from the dread and terror rioting inside him. “As you are aware, your compatriots have been arrested in Dublin, and the man sent to harm the duchess in London is dead by my hand. You are the only conspirator remaining. What do you think you can accomplish when everyone else around you has failed?”
“Do you truly think I am so easily fooled?” the young woman asked, her face an emotionless mask. “I will not be surrendering. I promise you the boy will not be harmed as long as you do as I say.”
“What would you have me do?” he asked, playing along, his mind whirling with possibilities, the options he had to sufficiently distract her so that he could rescue Edward. He could shoot at or near her, but that would put his son in danger. One instinctive tensing of her finger on the trigger, and the lad would be…no, he would not think it.
There were other ways. Leo was resourceful. He should be coming upon them from Miss Palliser’s rear at any moment.
“Place your weapon on the ground before you,” she ordered, her voice cold.
He could detect it now, the faint tinge of an Irish accent where before he had noticed none. What a proficient actress this woman was. How bloody dangerous.
He did as she asked, lowering the gun to the ground slowly before standing upright, his hands raised, palms facing outward. He had another pistol hidden on him and three blades, but she needn’t know that.
“There you are, Miss Palliser,” he called. “I have done what you wished. Now you must give me my son.”
“No.” She shook her head. “He cannot go with you, I am afraid. He must remain with me. But after I am finished with him and he is no longer useful to me, he will return to you unscathed.”
“Like hell I will allow you to take him from me,” he ground out, taking a menacing step forward. If the woman thought he was about to allow her to abscond with his son now that he had found them, she was mad and witless both.
She took two steps in retreat, hauling Edward with her. “Remain where you are or I shall hurt him,” she warned, her voice a lash.
Behind her, on the other side of the clearing, he saw leaves rustle. Leo. He would bet his life on it.Thank Christ.He would continue to distract her.
“What do you hope to accomplish?” he asked. “Do you truly believe the harming of an innocent youth will make Home Rule possible?”
“What I hope to accomplish and what I believe are two different beasts, sir,” she said, taking another slow step and pulling Edward with her.
“Papa,” his son called, pleading. “I do not want to go with her. She said she will take me on an adventure, and then I can go home again. But I don’t want to do that. I want to go home to you and Mama.”
“Silence, Your Grace,” Miss Palliser ordered Edward, her gaze never leaving Clay. “I must take the boy with me, but he will be returned.”
Sounds reached him then, the rustling of someone racing through the dense forest toward him. Could it be another of Miss Palliser’s confederates? Heart hammering, he spun on his heel to find his wife racing toward him, holding her skirts high in clenched fists.
Bloody hell, Ara had followed him. He might have known.
A shot rang out suddenly, echoing in the silence of the forest.
Clay turned back to Miss Palliser, shock and dread rocketing through him. He saw her stunned face, a dark stain spreading on her upper arm, the pistol falling from her slack hand. She went pale, looking down at the blood coating her hand, and then her eyes rolled back in her head and she crumpled into a heap on the ground.
Everything happened in a flurry.
Edward raced toward him, shouting. “Papa! Mama!”
Leo burst forth from his hiding place, binding Miss Palliser’s hands and ankles.
