Leah threw down the ropes that had been holding her wrists together and, although her ankles were still bound to the chair, she was confident enough in her aim that when she brought the knife forward and let it fly toward Henry, it quickly met its mark, imbedding itself in his shoulder. With a howl of pain, he fell back and collapsed onto the floor, the pistol slipping out of his grasp and skidding across the floor.
Time stood still as both of them abruptly looked toward the weapon. Henry, still clasping his injured shoulder to staunch the flow of blood, moved toward the pistol at the same time Leah dove for it, while her legs remained tied to the chair. It didn’t inhibit her movements to the point she wasn’t able to grasp the handle before he did.
Pulling back the hammer, she aimed it at him and warned, “Don’t move.” Henry groaned and let his head fall back to the floor. It was more challenging to untie the knots of the rope with one hand, but she managed to do so with blood dripping down her fingers. When she was free, she waved the pistol toward the chair she’d just vacated. Henry glared mutinously at her, but reluctantly picked himself off the floor and sat down. Tossing the rope about his midsection, she made sure to secure his arms and body.
He moaned about his shoulder the entire time. "I can’t believe you stabbed me! I’m your flesh and blood! A man of the cloth!”
“Oh, do shut up,” she snapped uncharitably. “Trust me, you deserved it.” Taking the pistol, she held the barrel next to his temple at the same time she removed the knife protruding from his shoulder. She gained a loud howl of pain from that. “Now, unless you would like this to get a lot more egregious, I suggest you tell me where the queen is.”
His mouth turned down in the corners, and she wondered if he was going to speak at all, but when he realized the odds were stacking against him, he snarled, “She’s not down at the old Tyburn, if that’s what you fear, or the tunnels that lead beneath the city streets.”
Leah had never heard of either. Either way, she was tired of playing games, and time was running out. “My patience wears thin, brother.”
He laughed, but it was without humor—bitter in its tone. “My father could have done great things, married a sensible woman with good fortune. We would have wanted for nothing. Instead, he had to marry that ridiculous woman without anything to offer us.”
“They had love and compassion for one another, something you would know nothing about,” Leah returned firmly. “Our father was devastated by my mother’s death, so much that he used the last of his wealth to travel the world searching for the same sort of joy she had given him.”
“Foolish sentimentality!” Henry shouted, his face turning red from his frustrations. “He offered me nothing but a name that I’ve had to struggle to lift out of the mire through the years.”
Leah snorted. “It wasn’t so long ago I was a guest at your house and it didn’t seem that you were wanting for much.” She gritted her teeth. “It’s unfortunate that you didn’t appreciate your wife or your position before they are stripped away from you.”
With clear eyes free of haze, he said calmly, “I shall be rewarded in Heaven for my efforts to free us all from royal tyranny.”
She shook her head. “It’s a wonder you have no idea that what you are doing is wrong. But you soon will.” She reminded him of her upper hand by pressing the barrel harder against his head and enunciating each word slowly. “I shall not ask again. Where. Is. The. Queen?”
Wearingdark clothing to better blend into their surroundings, Harlan, Hugh, Lucas, Benjamin, and a handful of constables approached the palace on foot, without the added distraction of carriages or horses. Distancing themselves on the grounds, the police fanned out to quietly inform the palace soldiers that there was a breach of security and the queen had been compromised. Harlan and his three cohorts each took a separate wing of the palace and began to scale the walls.
Harlan had chosen the oldest part of the palace, and as he silently opened an unlocked window and dropped down to the floor on quiet feet, he paused to listen. When all remained still and no footsteps came running to sound the alarm, he continued on his way. He kept to the shadows around him and started to creep forward, careful to listen for any sound that might assist him in saving the queen—and Leah.
He swallowed hard, telling himself that he would suffer any regrets or guilt later. He had already begun lamenting Leah’s involvement in this disaster. He should have known that a man like Bernard wouldn’t waste time waiting for them to lay a trap, or strike when they imagined he might do so. He was a man who had been celebrated throughout France for his exploits. Lucas had discovered that he was Napoleon’s personal secret weapon, and it was certainly understandable how he had gained the honorific. Bernard was the one man that Harlan hadn’t been able to outmatch, and yet, he knew he must if he was to do his job properly and keep those that depended on him to remain alive. He might not survive this endeavor, but he would never quit. His country and his queen were too important to him.Leahwas too important to him.
Again, he had to force her from his mind, or else it would be impossible for him to keep his mind on what he needed to do. With a knife securely in his grasp and his pistol within easy reach, he was prepared to do what was necessary. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d taken a life out of necessity, but he vowed it would be the last. He wanted to start a new life. It was time. He just prayed that, now that he’d found the one person he wanted to settle down with, he wasn’t denied the opportunity.
Harlan clenched his jaw and cleared his mind of anything other than his mission. He moved from corridor to corridor, swiftly checking rooms that he passed. He was just starting to wonder if one of his men might be having better luck when he spied a figure heading down a set of stairs in the oldest part of the palace, back when it could be traced back to decades of Duke of Buckingham descendants. After the King George III acquired the house and grounds, it went through extensive restorations. He’d expanded the residence to be a personal retreat for his wife, Queen Charlotte. Over the years, it had steadily become much more than a home, but a prominent image of the British monarchy.
As Harlan set out after the mysterious figure leading down to the expansive wine cellars, his heart started hammering.
Harlan paused before he stepped out into the open, vigilant that he wasn’t walking into a carefully laid trap. When he saw nothing more than the solitary shadow cast upon the wall as the figure continued to hasten along, he decided that he wasn’t in any immediate danger, so he moved onward.
He was about to turn a corner when he noticed the stranger paused by a door that led into the cellars. There was no light coming from beneath the interior to light the way, or to discern if anyone might be within.
His pulse pounding steadily, Harlan crept closer, cautious not to make the slightest sound. As he drew closer, he happened to notice the hem of a garment, along with a pair of dainty bare feet, just around the corner.
Immediately, Harlan relaxed slightly, but then he had to wonder what Leah was doing down here—alone.
When he was close enough that he could reach out and grab her effectively, he pounced, bringing her back against his chest at the same time his hand went over her mouth. She started to scream into his hand, but then she trained her focus on him. Once she did, he could feel her body sag with relief. He slowly removed his arm from around her waist and held a finger up to his mouth. When she nodded, he removed the other hand from around her mouth.
She sagged against the stone wall at her back. “You nearly frightened me to death,” she accused on a harsh whisper.
He ignored her statement as he glanced pointedly at the cellar. “Why are you down here?”
She glanced behind him, as if concerned that there might be someone sneaking up on him, and then she backed them further away from the door, presumably, so that they could speak a bit more openly without the risk of being overhead. “My brother ishere,” she explained, her words coming out soft and rapid. “He is in league with Mr. Bernard to support the rebellion.” She shook her head.
Harlan didn’t tell her that he already knew that. “Go on.”
“He’d tied me to a chair so I did what any other lady would do. I managed to get free using a knife I carried on my person, and then I stabbed him with the same knife.”
His frown returned. He might just have to offer another wound to Lindquist for daring to harm a hair on Leah’s head.
