“Don’t know, sir. I was waiting for him by the carriage when two men grabbed me.”
“Are you up to a rescue mission?” he asked. “I suspect the Duke of Herridge is keeping Douglas as another unwilling guest.”
The boy at his side spoke up. “We’re being heroes, sir.”
Tim and Alano shared a wry look.
“Care to join us?” Alano asked, as Tim cautiously sat up, rubbing his ankles, then his wrists.
Tim’s response was quick, profane, and more than satisfying.
Alano glanced at the boy. “What’s your name?”
“Jason, sir.”
Alano smiled. “A good hero’s name, Jason. Shall we?”
He stepped over the prone body of the guard, heading for the Duke of Herridge’s town house, Tim and Jason behind him.
The Duke of Herridge entered his library with an affable expression on his face, as if he were remembering something particularly pleasant.
Sarah didn’t particularly want the Duke of Herridge to be happy. She stood and turned in his direction.
“Let Douglas go,” she said, then added the one comment that would ensure Douglas’s release. “If you do not, I will let all of London know what you’ve done, and why. I’ll tell everyone you’re penniless. You pride yourself on your heritage and your name. I’ll make you a laughingstock.”
His face changed. His eyes narrowed, and his expression stiffened.
She knew him so well, and knew herself even better. Countless times, she’d stood before his desk, either here in London or Chavensworth on his rare appearances there. She’d been called upon to explain each infraction, each character trait, and each defect of her nature.
How very odd that he couldn’t affect her now, not as long as there was a doubt they were even related. Did he know? Is that why he’d felt nothing but contempt for her the whole of her life?
Until this moment, she’d not realized how much she was like the Tullochs of Kilmarin. Proud, determined, and not about to back down in the face of a bully.
“I will do it,” she said. “And take great pleasure in doing so. But I’ll never say a word if you release Douglas.”
“Do you think I care what the world thinks of me?”
She didn’t get a chance to respond. A great rumbling roar began in the sky and rolled around and through the house. Sarah had this sudden, horrifying thought that a giant had taken his balled fist and thrust it throughthe roof all the way to the wine cellar. Shards of wood and plaster rained down on them. All she could do was put her arms over her head and curl into as small a ball as she could, wishing that women’s fashions had some contingency for emergencies such as this one. A full hoop was no assistance to survival.
The sounds, raucous and grating, continued for what seemed like hours. She couldn’t breathe, and dust filled the air in huge, billowing clouds. She was suddenly being pressed against a chest, hearing Alano’s voice from far away. His words made no sense, and she repeated them again in her own mind in order to decipher them.
“The damn fool blew himself up.”
She said it again, and this time she sat up, pushing herself away from Alano with both hands. Horrified, she stared at him, but he was in darkness. Everything was dark.
There was a flickering light somewhere behind him, and she suddenly realized it was fire. The two of them began to crawl toward what had once been the door.
Were they the only ones to survive?
She looked up. Part of the ceiling was gone and the floor above that as well. The night sky shone crystal clear and black and beautiful.
He was beside her, pushing against her shoulder to guide her. At least his touch proved he was alive, and so was she.
“The damn fool blew himself up.”
She began to scream, but the scream was in her mind. She rose to her knees, but the fire behind them silenced her. Slowly, she stood and held her hand out to him.
“Don’t say that,” she said.
