Oh, thank the Lord!
They stepped aside, and a Bow Street Runner strode in, followed by the Marquess of Knoxley still in evening attire. His sharp gaze took in the toppled man then Giles.
“There’s another one in the drawing room,” Giles said.
The marquess nodded. “I saw. There’s a Runner dealing with him now.”
“Did the servants find you?” Alyssia asked the marquess.
“No. Not at first.” He nodded at Crane. “Met this one outside the masquerade with his wife, recognized him instantly as Bishop’s old employer.”
The Duke of Crane?
“I do not look like my half-brothers,” the man muttered.
“So you decided to call on me at this hour?” Giles asked. “Not that I’m complaining.”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” Knoxley said. “His carriage wheel broke so I offered to take them home. Who would have thought two of my servants would be running about, spot my carriage, and hail us down?” He shrugged. “I set off to Bow Street offices with one and Crane followed the other back here.”
Ah.
So shehadmade the right choice then. What a relief.
“Where is your wife?” Giles asked Crane.
“Sent her home,” the duke said. “She’s not allowed to set a foot in danger’s way.”
Alyssia bit back a smile. Like employer like household, it seemed. She wouldn’t be surprised if the duke’s wife kept close as well.
The Bow Street Runner crouched beside the unconscious man, retrieving the pistol. “You were all very fortunate.”
The arms around her tightened. “You weren’t hurt?” Giles asked softly.
Alyssia shook her head.
The Runner turned to Giles. “Charges will be brought againstwhoever sent these men.”
Giles’s mouth hardened. “I’m counting on that.”
Knoxley’s brows rose. “You are certain you wish to deal with it like this?”
“Beyond certain.”
Alyssia glanced at Giles. This meant he wouldn’t deal with it outside the bounds of law. “What are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking he came after my wife,” Giles said, clenching his jaw. “I’m thinking his worst fears are lack of power, loss of prestige, and being shamed. Let’s give that to him.”
She nodded. “I hear Australia is terribly hot this time of year. Life is particularly hard there.”
Crane’s voice cut in, clipped as steel. “Do you go now, or do we go in the morning?”
The Runner spoke, “We’ll take statements in the morning. For now, these men are coming with us.”
Just like that?
“I have a request,” Giles suddenly said. “This one,” he pointed to the man on the carpet. “We need him for tomorrow.”
The Runner paused, then nodded.
