“Thank God you have returned,” continued the valet. “We had a look at Taviot’s townhouse and—”
“And it’s deserted!” exclaimed Raven. “One of the urchins who lives in the area told me that the servants all left in a flurry—in two coaches, headed east.”
“The knocker was also taken down,” added Tyler. For the beau monde, that was a signal that the family had departed town.
“What are we going to do, Wrex?” Raven tried to appear calm, but the earl saw the rippling of raw fear in the boy’s eyes.
“If necessary, we are going to make a plan—and then we are going rescue m’lady and Alison,” he answered without hesitation.
Raven swallowed hard and gave a fierce nod. “Oiy, of course we are.”
“Horatio’s new information has proved to be the missing piece of the puzzle,” said Wrexford. “It finally explained why the whole picture of this mystery within mysteries has been so difficult to discern.”
“You mean because there are—” began Tyler.
“Two master villains,” finished the earl. “Yes, it’s why the trail of evil deeds has been doubly hard to follow. But now that we have discovered the truth, we’re no longer just flailing at shadows.”
Wrexford glanced down at his notes. “I have been thinking . . . Given the identity of Taviot’s partner in crime, I am certain that they know their perfidy has been discovered, so it stands to reason that they have seized Charlotte and Alison,” he reasoned. “Which also means that our loved ones will be used as bargaining chips, so are not in any imminent danger.”
Not yet.
He began to pace in a circle around his desk. “The villains will use them to negotiate—most likely for a deal that will allow them to escape from England.” His steps slowed as he parsed various possibilities. “My guess is that they originally planned to take Alison hostage. Charlotte is a complication. And when one is forced to improvise, the chances of making a mistake are greater.”
Clenching his hands, Wrexford tapped his knuckles together. “In any case, we must move quickly to put ourselves in a position to seize the advantage.”
“How do we start?” demanded McClellan.
The earl’s answer was delayed by the return of a breathless Hawk, who needed several moments to regain the power of speech. “Aunt Alison hasn’t returned home!”
“S’all right,” piped up Raven. “Wrex has a plan.”
All eyes turned to him.
“First we need to marshal our forces,” announced Wrexford. “Tyler, you fetch Henning. Raven, you must get Kit and then go to Lady Cordelia’s residence and have her roused. Bring them both back here as soon as possible.” To the maid, he said, “Mac, you and Peregrine take Horatio upstairs and see that he is settled for the night.”
The maid nodded in agreement. The ensuing discussion was going to involve secrets that an outsider could not be permitted to hear.
“Come along, boys,” she said as Tyler and Raven raced off to perform their tasks.
“What about me?” asked Hawk in a small voice once they were alone.
Wrexford sat back down in his chair and gestured for the boy to join him. Hawk was not only younger than his brother, but he also had a more sensitive nature. The earl knew that worries weighed more heavily on his small shoulders.
“I—I want to h-help,” added Hawk, blinking back tears.
“It would be a great help if you would keep me company.” Wrexford pulled the boy into his lap and wrapped his arms around him. He had meant the gesture to be of comfort to Hawk, but the weight and warmth of his dear little Weasel—a physical reminder of love and family—turned the faint spark of hope in his own heart into a blazing flame.
“Don’t worry, lad. The devil himself wouldn’t dare harm our loved ones. First of all, Alison would smack him with her stick.”
Hawk looked up, his trembling mouth quirking to a tiny smile. “And m’lady would poke her pen in his arse.”
“Quite right, lad,” replied Wrexford, smoothing the tangled curls back from the boy’s brow. “And then—”
His words were cut off by a sudden flurry of steps and a blessedly familiar voice rising from the shadows of the corridor.
“Halloo! Halloo! Where is everyone?”
* * *
