“It could be Timmy,” Sophie said, trying to get past him.
“And if you rush in, you may get a bullet through your head and be no use to anyone. Your brother needs you to show caution, Sophie.”
She gave a jerky nod of her head.
“Now,” Stephen whispered as he pulled a pistol from inside his coat and held it aloft.
Patrick turned the handle, but the door did not open.
Nodding to Stephen, Patrick dropped his shoulder into the wood, and it sprang open. Stepping inside, weak light from a candle showed him a woman tied to a chair, mouth gagged. A small child sat at her feet, sleeping in a pile of blankets. No one else was in the room.
“Is it them?”
“Yes.” She muffled a cry and ran to her brother. Stephen untied Mary.
“Everyone, quiet now,” Patrick said. “Stephen, look for a rear exit.”
His friend slipped from the room as Sophie picked up her brother and held him close. She then moved to the nanny’s side and whispered something in her ear. The woman nodded.
“This way,” Stephen said from the doorway seconds later.
“Mary, you go first, and Sophie, you will follow,” Patrick said. Thankfully, her little brother was still slumbering, his face resting on her shoulder.
Patrick nudged her out the door and along the hall. Reaching the end, there was another door, and they all filed out behind Stephen. Minutes later, they were down a set of external stairs. At the bottom, Sophie turned to look at him, her eyes wide with fear.
“I am here and will keep you safe. Follow Stephen, Sophie.”
She did as he asked, and soon they were walking back down the street to the carriage. Once there, everyone was ushered inside. Stephen sat beside Mary, who was pale but under control now, considering the hell she’d just endured. Sophie was beside Patrick, cradling her brother like she would never let him go.
“Can you tell us what happened, Mary?” Stephen asked.
“I thought I heard Timmy cry out and went to check on him. When I walked in, there were two men. One held the boy, and the other a gun pointed at me. They then gagged me, bound my hands, and forced me from the room. I-I couldn’t find Doddy,” the nanny whispered.
“He is safe,” Sophie said.
Mary pressed a hand to her chest in relief.
“Can you describe either man?” Patrick asked.
“One had blond hair—dark blond.”
Patrick watched the hand Sophie had on her brother’s back clench into a fist.
“It’s all right,” he said, placing his over it. “We have Timmy now.”
“What else can you tell us, Mary?” Stephen asked.
“His voice was raspy, and he had a scar through the top of his lip.”
“It’s him,” Sophie said softly. “Jack Spode.”
“The other man was tall and dark haired, but he didn’t speak,” Mary added.
“Thank you for keeping Timmy safe, Mary,” Sophie said.
“He’s a good brave boy,” the nanny said.
When the carriage stopped at the Monmouth town house, everyone climbed out. Patrick walked beside Sophie to the front door.
