“I will bring him back,” I promised as I held her. “I will find him, Donata, and bring him home. I swear to you.”
“Damn you!” Donata broke from me, pounding me with both fists. I scarcely felt the blows. “You did this …”
“I know.” I caught her hands. “I know. If you want me gone, I will go. But first, I will retrieve Peter.”
My quiet determination broke through her hysteria. Donata gulped, her breath coming in sobs. “What will you do?”
“Throw Denis at Creasey and shoot them both.”
Such was my rage. Donata caught my arm. “Make certain Peter is out of danger first.”
“Of course.”
I turned away, preparing to mount a fresh horse and ride forth at once.
“I am coming with you,” Donata announced.
“Lacey?” Grenville appeared in the doorway, flushed and out of breath. “Good Lord, what the devil has happened?”
I explained in a few words, and Grenville’s bewilderment changed to cold fury. “Dear God, the man has gone too far. Do not worry, Donata. We will find Peter, and then London will be too hot to hold Mr. Creasey and those like him.”
“I agree.” The icy control Donata had learned during the years of her unhappy marriage descended on her. “But I am coming along.”
“Of course, dear lady,” Grenville said. “My carriage is at your disposal. I shall have it brought ’round at once.”
Already I was striding past him out of the room. “I won’t wait for a carriage.”
“No, you and Brewster ride for London. We will follow you and meet at South Audley Street. Then we will plan our attack. I will send messages to your magistrate friends and the Runners—every patroller will close in on Mr. Creasey. He’ll not last the night.”
I continued down the stairs, never feeling my injured knee, barely realizing I’d left my walking stick in the stables.
I made no comment on Grenville’s plan. He took over with the smoothness in which he commanded everything, and I knew he’d execute his schemes perfectly.
Meanwhile, I’d ride straight to London and continue withmyplan.
Brewster, who hated horses, climbed into the saddle of one without fuss and turned it behind me. I would ride hard, and I could only hope he’d keep up with me.
IREMEMBERlittle of the journey to London. We rode straight through, halting only at posting houses to acquire fresh horses. I could barely speak to the ostlers, and it was Brewster who explained that our original mounts should be returned to Mr. Grenville, Brewster who paid over money for the best horses for hire.
Everywhere we searched for Creasey’s men and Peter. Brewster’s searching near Grenville’s home had revealed nothing, and he concluded that the abductors had immediately made for London. We asked at the inns if any had seen them, but none had. They must have ridden cross-country or changed their horses at private houses, or perhaps paid the posting innkeepers handsomely to keep quiet. I did not linger to question them closely but hurried on.
When we reached London, I did not stop at home but rode straight to Curzon Street. It was very late and even the denizens of Mayfair who kept long hours had retired. The streets were quiet, the clopping of our horses’ hooves loud in the stillness.
My face was rough with beard, my coat dirt-spattered and rent, my hat lost, my boots caked with mud. I swung down from the horse, barely able to walk now, but I managed to reach the front door of Number 45 and pound on it with my fists.
I continued to pound until the door opened a crack. I saw the butler’s face behind it, but I did not wait for him to inquire what I wanted. I slammed my shoulder into the door and forced it open.
Brewster rushed in two steps behind me, drawing a knife as Denis’s men surged forward to intercept us.
“Get him,” I bellowed at the butler.
Gibbons’s hard face reminded me that he’d once been a ruffian of the violent sort. Before he could open his mouth to argue, Brewster stepped up with his knife. “Do it.”
We’d have to begin battle, I could see, as none of the men moved. They were poised to seize us and toss us out, no matter what.
Denis himself materialized on the upper landing. He was fully dressed, including his greatcoat. I wondered dimly whether he’d been going out or coming in.
“What has happened?” he asked in his cool tones.
