Six boards were nailed into the windowpane, two nails on each side of the board. It would take a while to remove the nails…and even longer to do it quietly. What other choice did she have? Using her tinker’s friend, she set to work prying the metal pegs free. The boards were thinner than she expected, the nails coming out easily. She popped them out one by one, catching them soundlessly in her sweaty palm.
When the last nail was out of the first board, she lowered it a fraction and peered out into the starlit darkness. It appeared that this was the back of the cottage and, luckily, she saw no guards. A dark shape loomed in the distance…a fence? Once she got out of the house, she would scale it and run for help.
Precious minutes passed as she removed two more boards. The opening she’d made was tight, but she could squeeze through if she shed her outer garments. With a silent apology to Amelie Rousseau, she ruthlessly cut off her clothes, layer after layer of fabric whispering to the ground. Clad in a corset, shift, and drawers, she put her boots back on and launched herself through the opening.
It was a tight fit, but survival was the ultimate motivator. Clenching her jaw, she ignored the harsh scrape of wood against her bare arms and pushed herself through, dropping to the ground on the other side. She got up, and an arm hooked her around the waist, pulling her back against a wall of muscle, a hand muffling her scream.
40
“Fancy, it’s me.”
Hearing Knight’s voice, she felt relief pour through her. He turned her to face him, scanning her with fierce eyes.
“Are you all right, love?” His gaze dropped to her undergarments, ripped during her hasty exit out the window, and rage flared in those grey depths. “If they laid a finger on you—”
“They didn’t,” she said in hushed tones. “I took off my clothes so that I could fit through the window. No one hurt me. Well, except Adelaide. She drugged me and carted me off. How did you find me?”
Knight had taken off his jacket and was wrapping it around her shoulders. “Time for that later. For now, I want you to go with Garrity while I take care of Adelaide.”
It was only then that Fancy noticed the group standing behind her husband. The shadowy figures included Mr. Garrity, Mr. Kent, Ransom, and a small army of guards.
She nodded at the men, then said anxiously to Knight, “Be careful. She has armed men.”
He took out a pistol, holding it with lethal confidence. “I’ll be right back. And Fancy?”
“Yes?”
His eyes blazed brighter than the stars. “I love you. More than anything.”
“I love you,” she whispered back, but he was already leading the charge, the others fanning out behind him.
“This way to the carriage, Your Grace,” Mr. Garrity said.
Gabby’s husband always looked dangerous, but with his pistol drawn and dark gaze pitiless, he looked more menacing than usual. In this instance, Fancy was glad for it. He, along with his own group of men, led her through the fence to a cluster of carriages. He assisted Fancy into one of them, and she was surprised to see her waiting friend.
“Tessa!” She hugged the petite lady before sitting beside her. “What are you doing here?”
“Aiding in your rescue, of course,” Tessa said.
“Thank you,” she replied tremulously.
“I couldn’t let Harry have all the fun. Gabby and Maggie wanted to come too, but,”—Tessa wrinkled her nose—“their husbands aren’t as modern as mine.”
Garrity, still holding his firearm on the opposite bench, flicked a glance at the two women.
“Gabriella asked her old-fashioned husband to pass on a message, Your Grace,” he said dryly. “She plans to pay you a visit tomorrow. Early.”
“Do you think the men are all right?” Fancy fretted. “The princess’s guards—”
“Are no match for the dukes and duchess of the underworld,” Tessa said with reassuring conviction. “This is hardly our first battle. The men will be back before you know it—”
A blast cut her off, the carriage swaying.
Fear clutched Fancy’s heart. “What was that?”
“One of Harry’s toys,” Tessa said blithely. “He’s forever tinkering with explosives. I’m just glad he does it now at the laboratories of Great London National Railway rather than at our home.”
“We’re still rebuilding the last warehouse Kent destroyed,” Garrity muttered.
