The intruder grabbed Eleanor’s wrist, wrenching the candlestick away. Eleanor made a harsh sound, pain flashing across her face, but she did not cry out. Instead she drove her knee upward.
The man cursed, low and furious.
He spoke then. One word. Ugly, rough.
Arabella’s stomach turned.
“Let her go!” Arabella shouted.
The intruder turned his head slightly, as if finally noticing her.
His attention shifted, and Arabella understood with sudden clarity that he had not expected two women.
Good, she thought wildly. Let him be surprised.
She hurled the chair.
It struck his shoulder and chest and knocked him backward into the edge of the dresser. The impact rattled porcelain. Something shattered on the floor.
Eleanor ripped her arm free and stumbled back, breathing hard.
Arabella grabbed her sister’s hand. “Run!”
Eleanor shook her head violently. “No.”
Arabella stared at her. “Eleanor, he is going to kill us!”
Eleanor’s eyes flashed. “Then we do not make it easy.”
The intruder lunged again.
Arabella dragged Eleanor sideways just as his hand slashed through the space where her throat had been.
The air felt sharp. Too close.
“Help!” Arabella screamed toward the corridor. “Help, someone help us!”
No one answered.
Eleanor’s breathing was ragged. “Arabella, the bell. Find the bell.”
“There is no bell,” Arabella snapped.
The man advanced, slower now, calculating. His head tilted as if he were assessing them. Measuring their fear.
Arabella’s hands shook. She forced herself to steady them.
“Who sent you?” Eleanor demanded.
Still no answer.
Arabella’s voice rose, frantic and furious. “Are you deaf? Who are you? What do you want?”
The man moved again, quick as a striking snake.
Eleanor grabbed the small table and shoved it into his path. It tipped, clattered, slowed him for a heartbeat.
It was not enough.
