Grabbing the legs, he smashed it against the wall until the seat broke off and he held one leg. The end of it narrowed to the slot that had inserted into the seat. Striding across the room, he nudged Dunkeld aside. “Stop. You’ll break your hand.”
“Better than burning to death.”
Sutton doubled over, wheezing. “Oh, the smoke will kill us first.”
Placing the slotted end of the leg at the edge where window met plank, Julius shoved with all his might.
Dunkeld grunted and took the leg from him. With the handle of his broken knife, he hammered on the blunt end. The slot wedged under the board a millimeter. Julius hoped. But tears were running down his cheeks, his eyes were burning, and it was hard to see.
“Hit harder,” Julius yelled.
One watery blue eye rolled Julius’s way, glaring. Dunkeld’s blows shook the walls. The leg slid another inch, the board arching around it.
“A little further in and we can use the leg as a lever.” Julius bent and gripped his knees, coughing. His head started to spin.
“Got it.” Dropping the knife handle, Dunkeld wiggled the leg until he was satisfied, then pressed the side of it against the wall and pushed. One of the boards snapped away from its nail. Cool air wafted in through the opening, and Julius greedily sucked it down.
“Over here,” Dunkeld called to Sutton and Summerset. He tore away the remaining boards.
Sutton poked his head through the window. “There are flames climbing the wall about two feet over. We have to move quickly.”
As one, Dunkeld and Sutton linked hands and bent low. Summerset planted his jeweled boot onto the makeshift step, and they heaved him up and out.
“You should go next, Sutton.” Julius didn’t want to leave any of his friends behind.
“We don’t have time to argue,” Dunkeld growled. “Get your arse out of here.”
Grinding his jaw, Julius obeyed. He couldn’t deny he was desperate to escape the prison. And arguing further would only put them all in more danger.
He gripped the windowsill and stepped into their hands. They heaved him through the opening, and Julius landed in a heap on the other side. Summerset dragged him away.
Sutton rolled out next. He held a handkerchief to his mouth and stumbled back a step.
Dunkeld’s head appeared in the window. Reaching his arms through, he jumped. His chest got wedged in the opening, and he swore.
Sutton and Julius each grabbed an arm and heaved backwards. Dunkeld’s massive body inched forward, then popped free like a cork from a bottle of champagne. The three of them tumbled to the ground.
“Move,” Sutton croaked. He crawled away from the fire, and Julius and Dunkeld followed. Summerset stood in the middle of the street, a small pistol in his hand. Firelight glittered off its pearl grip.
Neighbors had begun to gather. A bucket brigade formed and they attacked the fire. It hadn’t yet spread to the surrounding buildings.
Dunkeld staggered to his feet. He pointed at Summerset. “You had a gun in your pocket this whole time? Why didn’t you use it?”
“I don’t think shooting at a fire kills it.” Summerset surveyed the crowd like a hawk eyes a hare. “They’re probably watching. Saw that we escaped.”
Julius placed a hand in the mud and pushed himself to his feet. “It doesn’t matter. They would have known by morning that they’d failed.”
“They meant the attack to stop the investigation,” Sutton said. “Trying to intimidate us.”
“Anyone feeling intimidated?” Julius looked each of his friends in the eye, saw the same resolve he felt. The dirtier these people played, the harder he would come for them.
Sutton held out his hands, palm up. He turned his face to the skies. “I won’t complain about bad weather ever again. The damp slowed the spread of the fire. The rain just saved our lives.”
Chapter Twenty
Amanda extracted the hem of her gown from Reggie’s teeth. “Bad dog. Clothing is not a toy.” She looked around the morning room but didn’t see his rope anywhere. She’d already hunted for it in the other rooms of the ground floor to no avail. Julius would have to get him another.
She didn’t bother to ask the footmen to search. She’d found the latest edition ofThe Timeson her bed that afternoon, after she’d crawled out of Julius’s. It was folded neatly to the second page, her indiscretions front and center.
