Rebecca’s hackles raised. “She was quite beside herself, my lord. She had no idea what to think.”
“And she confided all to you, I suppose.”
“We are dear friends,” she said stiffly.
“Perhaps we should resume this conversation at a more opportune time, I shall be more than happy to let you castigate me at that time.”
His words jolted Rebecca to the peril of their situation. “Yes, of course, but there is still one question weighing on me. Why has Cromwell, er, allowed you to… live?”
Huntley contemplated her for a long moment.
She couldn’t discern the color of his eyes due to how swollen they were, not to mention the low light.
“I believe he plans to use our connections to the duke to some advantage,” he said.
“I don’t understand—”
The door flew back, and Cromwell stood in the arch. “The nob’s got the right of it,” he said. He sauntered inside. “Ye see, I followed ye out o’ London. I seen the duke come to yer rescue. It came to me then. I couldn’t off this bloke until dark, so I set out to find the boy. That broken wheel was a stroke of luck but just I was set to nab ye, I was thwarted. I came back ’ere, took out my aggressions, and kept an eye on yer ’ouse in Berkely Square.”
“But what has that to do with… with…”
“Killin’ this nob? Why, if’n ye an’ this bloke were found together. It looks like ye was runnin’ off. Together like.” He rubbed his hands together. “I ’ave it all planned.”
Rebecca came to her feet, her shoulders back, her chin lifted, clutching her reticule. Her fingers wrapping the book within. It was her only weapon, having lost her dagger. “Oh,” she said softly. “And what is it you have planned, Mr. Cromwell?”
Her dagger appeared in the blackguard’s hand, and he took a menacing step toward her.
She let her purse slide down, intertwining her fingers within the strings.
Malevolence emanated from his wiry frame; he would kill her where she stood this time. She was a threat to his masculinity. So, not so rare for the male species.
She reared back and swung. The book inside her reticule caught him upside the temple and felled him flat. Her dagger clattered to the broken boards beneath her feet. She dashed over and snatched it up. A book certainly couldn’t have killed him. She hurried to Huntley and sliced the rope binding his ankles. “Lean forward, my lord, so I can reach your hands. We must make our escape before the scoundrel comes to.”
“That was quite a wallop you delivered.”
“That’s neither here nor there.” She went to assist him to his feet. He was weak. Too weak to manage on his own. And heavy. But she considered herself sturdy, despite the constant throb at the back of her head.
A shadow appeared in the open doorway, and Rebecca’s heart kicked up. She didn’t have to see Sebastian to know he’d found her. He stepped into the light, his gaze going from her to Cromwell’s stilled body on the floor and back. A slight twitch curved his lips. “Looks as if things are under control here, my dear. Somehow I am not surprised.”
“Sebastian.” Rebecca threw herself in his arms. “Your humor leaves much to be desired, sir,” she spoke into his waistcoat. Her heart pounded with relief. She would have sunk to the ground if his arms hadn’t wrapped around her and held her up. “I knew you would find us.”
~~~
The most difficult task Sebastian had ever undertaken was setting Rebecca aside. He walked over to Crowell and nudged him with the toe of his boot. “Did you kill him?” He gentled his tone, but it still reverberated off the walls.
“I don’t see how,” Rebecca huffed out, her frustration fully returned. “The blackguard confiscated my dagger. Thankfully, I had a book in my reticule, and I was able to take him by surprise.”
“Dagger?” The biggest shock was Sebastian not swooning there and then. Suppressing a shudder at the thought her aim had not gone perfectly, he ran a critical eye over her ruined frock and her torn stays. He grabbed her arms. “Did he hurt you?”
She gasped and he immediately released his hold, looking down at his now bloodied glove. His insides took a dive for hell. “My… arm,” she rasped.
He gently took her hand and turned up her badly wrapped forearm. He pulled the strip away. It took a moment for his gaze to stitch together what he was seeing from her torn glove to the ripped material he held to the fresh cut on her arm. “God, Rebecca.” His teeth clenched so hard he thought they would crack under the pressure. He wrapped the strip with care and snugly around her arm, watching her face closely for pain.
“She’s a brave young woman.” Huntley’s words were but a gravel of rocks. “I’ve never seen the like.”
Sebastian pulled her against his chest and breathed in the soft lavender that even the river couldn’t overpower. “Thank God you’re all right. I don’t know what I would have done if… if the unthinkable had happened,” he grated out. “Let me bind up the bastard. Then I’ll carry you to the carriage.” He turned to Harlowe. “Help Huntley, would you? I’ll handle Cromwell after I carry—”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Rebecca gathered her purse and her knife with her good arm as if she was preparing to depart from the latest musicale. “Admittedly, I’ve never had cause to rescue a man before, but alas there are firsts for all things, I daresay.”
