The marquess was grateful neither man questioned his reasoning, for he was uncertain if he could have formulated a logical explanation for this decision. Silently cursing himself for not taking better care of his wife, Trevor hurried down the twisting hallways, anxiously following on Julian Wingate’s heels.
When they reached the east wing the men slowed, and began a careful search of the many rooms. They found layers of dust, mountains of cobwebs, even a few mice, but no missing women. Trevor was beginning to doubt the wisdom of his instincts when the halls echoed with the sound of a terrified female scream.
The three men exchanged worried glances, then broke into a run, stumbling as they raced down the hallway.
“I think it came from here,” Jason said, pointing to the last door on the right. He reached boldly for the door handle.
“Wait!” Trevor grasped Jason’s wrist. “We don’t know what we shall find in that room. It is best to be cautious, at least until we learn what is happening.”
Jason pressed his ear to the heavy wooden door.
“Can you hear anything?” Wingate asked.
“Yes, but it is just sounds. I can’t make out the words.”
“Let me try.” Trevor pushed his way forward and leaned into the door. He squeezed his eyes shut and concentrated completely on the sounds coming from the other side. If he held himself very still, he could hear a male voice speaking rapidly, a female voice answering or perhaps asking a question. The marquess then heard something else. Moaning? Whimpering?
His hand reached down and slowly turned the latch. “ ’Tis locked,” he whispered.
“I think I can open it.” Wingate removed a long, thin implement from his breast pocket and inserted it in the keyhole. He fiddled with the lock for only a moment, then, with a slightly embarrassed grin, sprang the lock.
There was hardly time to question Wingate on where he had learned this rather unsavory skill, yet Trevor could tell by Jason’s amazed expression that his brother-in-law was equally scandalized.
“Remember,” Trevor admonished. “Be as quiet as you can. An element of surprise might make all the difference.”
Yet all their efforts at entering the room soundlessly were for naught. The moment they swung the door open, Harriet screamed.
“Hawkins!” Julian Wingate cried out in astonishment. “What the devil is going on?”
The man Wingate called Hawkins grabbed a fistful of Harriet’s hair and yanked her head back. “Make a move toward me and I’ll slit her throat.”
“Who is this man?” Trevor cried out in anger.
“My valet,” Wingate replied.
“What?” Both Jason and the marquess turned in astonishment to Wingate.
The other man shrugged his shoulders helplessly. “Believe me, I am just as shocked as you. Perhaps more. He has never before exhibited such rash behavior.
“Hawkins, step away from Miss Harriet this instant,” Wingate commanded.
“My God, he has tied Elizabeth to that chair,” Jason declared in shocked tones.
Trevor’s eyes frantically searched the room for Meredith. She stood behind Hawkins, directly in front of Elizabeth, who was indeed tied to the chair. Meredith’s face was pale in the dim candlelight, her eyes alight with stark fear. She seemed unharmed, but there was a hopeless expression on her lovely face that cut him to the quick.
“ ’Tis three against one, Hawkins,” Trevor called out in anger. “End it now while you can.”
Hawkins’s mouth curled in a sneer. “I am the one holding the knife, my lord. And the women.”
“Bloody hell, he’s your servant, Wingate,” Jason said. “Do something.”
Wingate drew in a tight breath. “What do you suggest? He has a knife pressed to Harriet’s throat. If we rush him, she will be harmed before we reach her side.”
Trevor fought the urge to step forward. He knew Wingate was right. And if Harriet were cut, it seemed likely Meredith would be his next target.
“What do you want, Hawkins?” Trevor asked. “Money?”
Hawkins broke into a slow, cruel, taunting smile. “How very foolish you are, my lord. I want only to complete my mission, and nothing any of you do will stop me.”
