“No. Although I believe Dr. Harris is supposed to arrive later this week.”
As Lyra’s past troubles weighed heavily on their minds, they fell silent. Her mother reached across and took her hand. “I’ll pray for you, my dear. In fact, I always have. You don’t know how many times I regretted forcing you to marry that cretin Weston. I knew he was just like your father, but at the time, I was selfish, concerned only for our social standing. I was so set on an impeccable lineage and wealth that I overlooked the fact he was a complete scoundrel.”
“It’s over now,” Lyra said calmly. “There’s no use dredging up the past when all it can do is bring about sour memories.”
“You’re absolutely right.” Her mother gave a firm nod as she stood. “Now, I don’t know about you, but I do believe that milk did the trick. I think I should fall right to sleep.”
Lyra smiled as she stood. “Me too.”
Suddenly, she froze. Her eyes widened, and she could feel her face leech of all color as she glanced down. Her heart instantly began to pound furiously when she saw the red stain that had appeared. As a sharp pain took her breath, she gasped and spots began to dance before her eyes. “Mama…the baby…”
It was all she could manage to get out before she collapsed.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Alister crawled out from under the mangled debris. He waved a hand in front of his face to clear the dust and tried to call out to Drayven, but only managed a weak cough instead. His hair and clothes were coated with grime, and he could feel the warm trickle of blood at his right temple and he felt a bit unsteady. He wasn’t sure how badly he was injured at the moment, although his right leg hurt like the devil. In truth, he was lucky he wasn’t dead.
He glanced up and noticed that nearly the entire floor of the second level room they had just been inside had collapsed. Granted, he knew that the building around him was old and rotting, but he couldn’t get past the sinking feeling that this had been a premeditated attack. Elise was resourceful when it came to gaining what she wanted, and for someone who didn’t have anything to lose, it would be rather easy for her to persuade one of her subordinates to saw through a few floor beams. Especially if she thought the Home Office might pick up the trail of her whereabouts and come calling…
He heard a groan somewhere to his left, so he began to crawl toward the sound. He dodged jagged pieces of wood still hanging from the ruined area above him and tested his weight on the rubble beneath him. He finally reached the marquess, who had a rafter beam lying across his chest.
“Are you hurt?” Alister’s voice was rusty, but it was clear enough for Drayven to understand him.
“It will take more than a piece of timber to do me in,” Drayven said dryly as Alister helped pry him free, although his grin was tight.
“Do you think you can stand?”
Drayven slowly sat up and hissed through his teeth as he grabbed his shoulder. His arm was hanging at an odd angle. “I think it’s dislocated.”
Alister grabbed the injured appendage and took a deep breath. “Are you ready?” When the marquess gave a sharp nod, Alister shoved his arm back into place.
Drayven uttered a curse as beads of sweat broke out on his forehead. “Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it.”
As the two men struggled to stand, Alister tested his weight on his right leg. He didn’t think it was broken, but the pain that shot down through his ankle told him that he would be limping from a bad sprain for a couple of days.
The cock of a pistol drew his attention forward.
“Hello, gentlemen.” Elise Coventry’s eyes were lit with an unholy glow as she trained her weapon on them.
“You’ve given me a rather difficult time of it lately, Your Grace.” Her lips twisted. “I have to admit that I thought my dear sister-in-law was merely bluffing when she said my ship was about to be overrun with soldiers, but it appears I underestimated her.” She tilted her head to the side. “For a man who is supposed to be some sort of simpleton to the rest of the ton, you have become a rather bothersome adversary.”
Drayven slowly made a move toward his pistol, but Elise shook her head. “I don’t think so, Lord Sussex. Throw it away.Slowly.”
The marquess narrowed his dark eyes, but he pulled the weapon out of his waistband and tossed it to the side.
“What is it you plan on doing now, Elise?” Alister asked smoothly, bringing her attention back to him. If he could keep her talking long enough, it just might be enough of a distraction for Drayven to get the knife he kept hidden in his boot. Or give Thompson and Gray a chance to intervene. “There’s nothing left for you.‘The Cause’is finished. Lord Winthorp has been arrested, and it’s only a matter of time before everyone else involved will follow suit.”
“Winthorp,” she snorted. “I bet it didn’t even take one of the guards five minutes before he was squealing about our little love nest. He was as much of a disappointment as the men I’d sent to dispose of you in Sheerness. But don’t think that‘The Cause’ends with me. That is only one organization. There will be others, I assure you. The Monarchy is a dying breed.”
“I hope you don’t mean to utilize the map of tunnels beneath Carlton House.” He lifted a brow. “In that case, I regret to inform you that those plans are under heavy guard at Whitehall, while the passages will soon be sealed. Permanently.”
For an instant, it was obvious she wanted to dispute his words, but her face suddenly twisted and she regarded him with true spite. “You may think you’ve won, but you’re wrong. Either way, I hope your life was worth it.”
She started to squeeze the trigger, but at that exact moment, Drayven acted. He bent down and removed his dagger, letting it fly with a sure aim. He hit his target with lightening precision almost perfectly, stabbing Elise in the hand and causing her to drop her weapon on a shriek of pain.
Instantly, Alister had his pistol out and held on her just as the Runners ran onto the scene.
