‘Fiend seize it,now, before he gets that door locked,’ Nicholas ground out, moving quickly to take advantage of Henry Atwood’s preoccupation. The two ruffians were not so easily surprised, and as the Duke and Malcolm sprang from seemingly nowhere, after being initially startled, they quickly readied themselves for a fight. Not so Henry. Their sudden appearance caused him to fumble and drop the key he’d been holding. Cursing, he bent to pick it up just as Adam and Roan yanked open the door and burst forth.
Roan, clearly more accustomed to fisticuffs in a harbourside alley than at the Corinthian Path, indulged in no battle niceties but immediately used his foot to kick Atwood backwards. ‘He’s yours,’ the former sea captain shouted as he ran to join in the fight with the two kidnappers, one of whom had pulled out a pistol. Using his momentum to knock the gun out of the ruffian’s grip, Roan immediately drew his free hand and planted the man an enthusiastic facer. The thug went down as if he’d been poleaxed with his companion joining him a moment later after a fervent clout on the back of his head from the butt of Malcolm’s gun.
Seconds later, Adam dragged a struggling Henry Atwood towards his companions. ‘Don’t think you’ll get away with this,’ he sputtered.
‘Where are they?’ Nicholas demanded icily, completely ignoring the lick spittle’s bluster.
‘You’ll never find them,’ sneered Henry, ‘not if you look for a month of Sundays, and if I don’t return soon, my man will kill them.’
‘So, they’re not dead yet then?’ commented Malcolm mildly. ‘Lucky for ye laddie as I’m sure you’ll not be wanting yer ballocks handed to ye on a platter.’
Henry blanched and looked wildly between the four men. There was no indication that his two henchmen would be coming round any time soon. The coward realised he was on his own.
‘Swear you’ll let me go and I’ll tell you where they are,’ he burst out, making no effort to conceal his desperation.
‘How about you tell us where they are and we’ll see that you don’t end up with the morning drop,’ offered Roan.
‘You think I want to spend the rest of my bloody life in Newgate limbo?’ Henry spat, the horror of being buried alive in London’s most notorious prison clearly giving him a belated backbone. ‘I’m not telling you anything until you promise to set me free.’
'I think Viscount Atwood might have something to say about that,’ Adam growled.
‘Tie all three bastards to the bannister,’ Nicholas ordered Malcolm before bending down to stare icily into Atwood’s terrified eyes. ‘And if you so much as make a single move to warn your associate that we’re here, you won’t actually get the opportunity of a trial,’ he grated, ‘because I will personally cut your bloody throat.’
Five minutes later all three were secured. ‘Mayhap we should split up,’ suggested Roan. ‘There can only so many hiding places in one house.’
‘What if it’s a priest hole,’ Nicholas replied in exasperation. ‘They were traditionally very well hidden. We truly could be looking for days. There’s no way Atwood’s man will wait much beyond an hour before he guesses something has gone awry and cuts his losses.’
‘He may decide to simply scarper, leaving them both alive,’ Roan commented without much hope.
‘I canna see the murdering bastard doing such a thing,’ responded Malcolm shaking his head. ‘At the vera least, he’ll not want to leave witnesses. The rest of us have nae seen the man, so couldna identify him if we tried.’
‘Did you hear that,’ snapped the Duke, turning back to Henry. ‘Your paid thug will undoubtedly leave you to swing.’
Atwood shook his head confidently. ‘John willneverbetray me.’
‘Ye seem certain of that laddie,’ said Malcolm. ‘Well, ye can rest easy while we be putting your conviction to the test.’
Twenty minutes later the four men reconvened having had no luck locating the priest hole. ‘If Gabriel was bloody well here, he’d be able to tell us where it is,’ muttered Adam, running his hand through his hair in frustration.
Atwood was seated where they’d left him, now openly grinning.
‘Are you averse to torture?’ grated Roan, fighting the urge to draw the bastard’s cork.
Nicholas swore. ‘We don’t have time to wait for these two sleeping beauties to wake,’ he growled.’
‘Running out of time your grace?’ crowed Henry becoming more confident by the minute.
‘Someone gag that son of a bitch,’ the Duke bit out, clearly fighting to keep his temper in check. He closed his eyes wearily for a second. ‘We’ve got to look aga…’ he started as the unlikely sound of footsteps approaching the front door caught his attention.
‘Who the devil’s that?’ questioned Malcolm.
‘Don’t let them ring the damned bell,’ hissed Adam, ‘the bloody clanging is loud enough to wake the dead.’
Nicholas strode quickly to the main entrance and threw open the door before anyone had the opportunity to take hold of the bell rope. To his complete astonishment, a shapely form mumbled incoherently before throwing herself into his arms. With a loud grunt, the Duke stepped back, seeking to avoid falling ignominiously on his backside on receipt of the sudden weight.
Incredulously, he looked over the head of his sobbing wife to her father who was puffing up the steps behind her, followed more reluctantly by Percy.
‘What the blazes are you all doing here?’ Nicholas bit out, trying to contain his anger. ‘The only one deuced well missing is Freddy.’
