“No.” Yes, but not enough for complaints. Southey shifted, burying his snout at my throat and whining softly. I turned left at the juncture. “We need to get…” I stopped, realizing I was speaking to air.
Marie popped her head back around the corner.
“Come on,” I snapped. I limped forward to the stairs.
“We should ’ave gone up to the servants’ quarters.” Marie trotted after me, looking over her shoulder. “There’s a couple of burly footmen who would ’elp us.”
I paused on the second step down. I hadn’t thought of that.
Bertram’s silhouette was lit by the moonlight at the hallway’s junction.
And it was too late now. “Hurry,” I told Marie. We went down the steps as fast as we could, but I knew Bertram was gaining on us. I’d thought to reach the stables, where I knew the hunting guns were kept and where at least one groom would be sleeping. Now I knew we wouldn’t make it. But if we could barricade ourselves in one of the rooms, ring for the servants, we might have a chance.
If they could hear the bell from their bedrooms. If they didn’t spend too much time pulling on their wrappers and boots.
Bertram grunted when he reached the bottom of the staircase. There were too many ifs to make survival likely.
We darted into the rear sitting room, my body already reaching for the end table by the door. It was too easy to drag. Itwouldn’t hold against a child pushing at the door, never mind a grown man. But I started pulling it over.
Marie slammed the door shut, only to be thrown back as Bertram pushed inside. He stepped clear of the door, blood dripping from his arms. He turned toward us, his face wearing an expression that would haunt my dreams, and ran right into Henry’s waiting fist.
Chapter Forty-One
Henry
Henry flexed hishand. He didn’t think any bones were broken, but he might have to punch the arsehole again. He wanted to be prepared. “Is everyone all right?” He looked from Lady Mary to the maid and back again.
Lady Mary patted her hair. It lay in a tangled mess about her shoulders. “Not to sound ungrateful, but what, in the name of all that is holy, are you doing here?”
“Mr. Smith saw Withers’s carriage turning about.” He toed the man’s body, but Withers remained unresponsive. “I realized he must have been the killer and rode as fast as I could back.”
“And crawled in through a window?” The maid pointed at the small table he had knocked over when he’d crawled inside the sitting room.
The back of his neck heated. “I didn’t want to rouse the whole house if I was wrong. The casement doors were locked, and I know that window has a loose latch. It seemed the thing to do.” When he’d heard the commotion and seen bits of the window above fall onto the terrace, he’d kicked himself for his caution. He should have banged on the front door, gotten everyone out of bed.
And speaking of… “Can you wake the butler?” he asked Marie. “We need men to hold Withers until the constable can be called.”
She nodded and skirted around the unconscious form before disappearing down the hallway.
Henry drew Lady Mary to the window and examined her in the moonlight. “Are you certain you are all right?” His eyes narrowed. “I believe there is a bruise forming on your chin.”
The breath she loosed was a bit wobbly. “A few knocks about, but considering the alternative….”
Henry glared at Withers, wishing the man would awaken so he could plant him another facer.
Unfortunately, the butler and a contingent of strong young men arrived before he had the chance. Oil lamps and candles were lit. A length of rope was produced, and Withers was neatly bound and removed to the stables. Someone was sent to rouse the constable and get a message to the magistrate.
Tea, with a nip of something a bit stronger, was served.
Lady Mary held a saucer of milk up to Southey, who was resting on her lap. The dog eagerly tucked in. Aside from being somewhat subdued, he seemed no worse for wear.
“Marie.” Lady Mary dipped her chin to look at the girl. “When did you arrive back to this house, and why did you not come see me? You must know I was worried about you.”
Marie stretched her slippered toes out in front of her, the hem of her wrapper falling open. “I arrived late this evening. Yesterday evening now. You’d already gone to bed. I was still unpacking my things when I ’eard the crash.”
“Well, you were quite adept with my walking stick,” Lady Mary said. “I thank you for saving my life.”
Henry waited for his turn to be thanked. And waited. He grimaced. Saving two women from a crazed killer would have to be its own reward.
