Tomorrow morning he would face Russell—if the bastard wasn’t already aware that he and Marguerite had returned to London, his cold-hearted and vicious plan thwarted.
As soon as the physician had assured them that Lindsay would be fine, Jared had carried her upstairs to their room while Walker had seen that the carriage was driven round to the coach house beyond the garden and hidden away.
Yet had it been soon enough if Russell had another of his paid minions watching Jared’s town house? Might he be devising a plan even now to murder them all tonight in their beds? His cousin had already shown himself to be ruthless enough, desperate enough…
“We’ll have to take turns guarding the front door until morning,” came Jared’s grim voice, clearly sharing Walker’s dark suspicions. “My footmen can watch the back of the house. Where’s Marguerite?”
“Took to her bed. After what happened to Lindsay…and exhaustion from the journey—”
“And worry for you.”
Walker nodded. The memory of her stricken face when he’d said to Jared right after the physician left that he planned to challenge Russell to a duel, was burned into his mind. He needed to see her, to hold her—
“What in blazes…?” A sudden pounding at the front door had made both him and Jared wheel around, Walker’s hand moving to the butt of one of the pistols at his belt. He gave the other one to Jared, and together they moved stealthily into the foyer, Jared waving away Sims who was ready to open the door.
“Who’s there?” Jared demanded, flanking one side while Walker took the opposite side.
“A message, my lord, from Lord Donovan Trent.”
Cautiously, Jared nodded to Walker and then opened the door, but not fully. The poor man standing just outside, clearly exhausted and dusty from travel, turned white when he saw the pistol leveled at him. Jared no more than grabbed the letter from the messenger’s shaking hand and the fellow turned around and ran for his lathered horse.
Jared shut the door with a resounding thud and drew the heavy bolt. “Sims, see that the back door is locked.”
“Yes, my lord!”
Walker watched intently as Jared slid the pistol into his belt and tore open the letter. Relief lit Jared’s face, and he held out the message for Walker to read.
“The missing tinners were found alive, only minor injuries. At least things are well in Cornwall. Now go, Walker. See to your lovely bride and tell her the good news. I’ll call for you in a few hours’ time. Agreed?”
Walker was already across the foyer, calling out, “Agreed!” as he lunged up the steps two at a time.
