“Fellow over there all suited up for a wedding, albeit not to his actual fiancée?”
“Of course. Tom. I beg your pardon, Lady Armitage, but in addition to my amulet I require you to hand over Tom Eels.”
“Eames,” Alex corrected. Charlotte shrugged.
Lady Armitage laughed merrily, a sound like rattling bones. “My, what a forthright girl. I like that. Won’t you stay and have some tea? We’ll discuss amulets and”—she flashed Alex a matrimonial glance—“other matters.”
Charlotte set her jaw. “No, thank you.”
“I insist, dear.”
“And I insist on leaving.”
“Ah, but my insistence comes with bullets.”
She directed a significant look past them, her smile uncoiling once more. Charlotte and Alex turned—
And sighed.
Miss Dearlove stood by the balcony doors with a pistol in eachhand, aimed directly at their hearts. Or, more precisely, given their height difference, at Charlotte’s heart and Alex’s stomach, although this seems a nitpicking detail under the circumstance of being held at gunpoint by a cold-eyed traitor.
“You!” Charlotte said.
“Who?” Alex asked.
“Mrs. Chuke’s maid,” Charlotte explained. “Theprettygirl.”
Miss Dearlove gazed at them expressionlessly.
“In fact, she is my maid,” Lady Armitage put in from the sofa. “Excellent servant, pours a perfect cup of tea. Perfect aim, too, so I suggest you don’t make any sudden moves. It has been most tiresome having her away spying on the Wicken League—although since it ultimately resulted in my acquisition of Black Beryl’s amulet, I ought not complain.” She caressed said amulet lovingly, and Tom squirmed in his bonds. “Such an elegant piece of work, and so rich with magical potential. I have been trying different words from the incantation to unlock it. Thus far all I’ve managed is to explode one little church.” She waved cheerfully across at the vicar, who glared back in a most unholy manner indeed. “I canfeelthe power within the glass. At first I was thinking it might help me destroy the Wisteria Society, but why aim so low? After all, we in England are blessed by the most delightfully flammable cities.”
She paused to chuckle at the thought, her eyes brightening as if with a lit fuse. Then she shook her head. “But enough exposition of my wicked plans. It is most rude of me to keep you hanging around at gunpoint like this. Dearlove, kindly ring for tea and some poisoned bisc—”
Suddenly the house reeled to port. Lady Armitage toppled off her sofa, hitting the floor with a twang of interesting undergarments. Miss Dearlove staggered. Immediately, Alex spun about, his foot rising tokick the guns from the maid’s grip. She tripped backward, hissing in pain. Alex completed the turn, double-punched the footman who had rushed forward, and strode over to capture Lady Armitage before the woman could retaliate. Hauling her up at swordpoint, he winced as she spat curses (and a fragment of boiled lolly) at him.
At the same time, Charlotte incantated the guns from the floor into her own possession. “Nobody move,” she said in a tone that might have been more compelling had she remembered to put her fingers on the gun triggers.
“You!” Alex snapped to the footman. “Go and tell whatever idiot is trying to pilot this house to bring it down at once. Carefully.”
“Or else?” the footman inquired, scowling as he clutched his reddened jaw.
“Or else you’re the first one I kill on my way up to the cockpit to take the wheel for myself.”
The footman came to attention, ankles clapping together smartly. “Right you are, sir,” he said, and dashed from the room.
“This is insufferable!” Lady Armitage declared. “How dare you come in here and interrupt my evil plotting to behave in such a—a—piratic manner!”
Alex laughed, but Charlotte was less amused. “Excuse me,” she said, the words bristling with offense. “I am in no way piratic. I am merely hijacking your house, holding you and your servant at gunpoint, and preparing to steal that jewel around your neck. Captain O’Riley, please take the amulet from Lady Armitage and hand it to me.”
“Don’t try anything foolish,” Alex advised the lady as he attempted to lift the amulet on its chain over her stiff hair.
“I say, is that musk cologne you are wearing?” she murmured in a caressing tone.
Alex replied in kind by yanking on her chain. It snapped. “Thank you, madam,” he said, smiling as he dangled the amulet before her face.
“You’re going to regret this,” she warned him gleefully.
Alex shrugged. “Do I look like the sort of person who has regrets?” (A statement he immediately repented as Lady Armitage stroked his body yet again with her gaze.)
