Oh no, you don’t.She stalked over.
He looked up just as she swung again.
He hit the ground with a thud that resounded in the sudden stillness.
Panting, she turned around to see Rhys and Jeremy staring at her. Their chests were heaving, their faces sheened with sweat. Their respective foes lay on the ground, groaning.
Rhys arched a brow at her brother. “Did you teach her to use the pan?”
Jeremy shook his head. “She learned it from our ma. Men might rule with an iron fist but Ma, she did it with an iron pan.”
“Remind me not to get on your sister’s bad side.”
The men exchanged knowing looks.
Maggie expelled an exasperated breath. “When you’re finished with your manly jokes, do you think you could restrain these burglars?”
“They’re not burglars,” Rhys said.
“You know them?” she asked in disbelief.
His jaw clenched, his hands curling at his sides. “They work for Adam Garrity, one of the moneylenders I owe. He’s sending me a message: he wants his money…or his pound of flesh.”
A cold droplet slid down Maggie’s spine. At the same time, another thought struck her.
“Dear heavens. Hypatia and Mr. Newton,” she whispered.
Dropping the pan, she raced to look for them.
22
“It all happened rather quickly,”Hypatia said, sipping her tea.
After the magistrate and his men had hauled the attackers off to the local gaol that morning, Rhys had herded everyone back to his estate, picking Glory up along the way. Now he, Maggie, Hypatia, Newton, and Jeremy convened in the drawing room.
Glory had been put in the care of Quince who was, at present, giving her a tour of the curiosities. Strangely enough, the butler hadn’t complained when assigned what was, in essence, a nanny’s task. In fact, as Glory chattered away, Rhys had caught what might have been a smile on the old curmudgeon’s face. Either that or Quince had been passing wind.
“Mr. Newton and I must have fallen asleep discussing the plans for London,” Hypatia went on. “The next thing I knew, I was being bound and gagged and dragged into the study. It was a bit of a shock.”
“To say the least.” His shaggy hair disheveled, Newton gazed at her with puppyish adoration. “I admire your nerves, Miss Foley. They are as formidable as your intellect.”
The spinster’s cheeks turned pink. “How kind of you to say, sir.”
Sitting beside Rhys, Maggie shivered. “I’m just glad that no one was hurt.”
The possibility of Maggie or his friends coming to harm made Rhys want to punch someone. Namely, himself. He rose, prowling to the hearth, searching for the right words.
“I must apologize again for putting all of you in harm’s way,” he said tautly. “If I had had the slightest inkling that Garrity knew my location—”
“You cannot be held accountable for a cutthroat’s actions,” Hypatia said.
Maggie gave a brisk nod. “And we mustn’t allow the attack to deter us from the task at hand: finding the treasure.”
Despite his churning guilt, Rhys admired the show of female resilience. Devil and damn, but Dorset produced sturdy feminine stock.
“When be you off to London, guv?” Sprawled in the chair nearest the food-laden sideboard, Jeremy spoke while plowing through a plate of sandwiches.
“Tomorrow.” There was no delaying the inevitable. Especially now, when trouble had come knocking. The sooner Rhys found the treasure, the sooner he could pay off his debts. Then he could come back to Maggie. To their daughter. To the life he wanted to build.
