‘You are doing remarkably well,’ he said quietly.
Charlotte gave a faint, humourless breath that might almost have been a laugh.
At one turn, he stopped abruptly.
Not expecting it, Charlotte collided lightly into him. His arm came around her at once, steadying her before she could lose her balance.
Somewhere in the distance, faint echoes sounded.
The entire group froze, straining to listen.
But nothing followed.
At last, they pressed onward once more.
After several wrong turns, Charlotte finally recognised the markings upon the beams and the familiar curve of the tunnel ahead.
‘There,’ she whispered, scarcely louder than breath as she lifted her hand towards the passage ahead.
At the end of the final turn, the wooden door emerged from the darkness, its rough surface half obscured by shadow and flickering lantern light.
Charlotte’s pulse quickened.
‘That is where we were kept,’ she said more firmly.
Behind them, the Bow Street Runners moved with practised efficiency, quietly readying their firearms.
Lord Stanley raised a hand.
At once, every man fell still.
Then—
Voices drifted through the slightly open door.
Low. Muffled.
But unmistakably male.
Charlotte held her breath.
‘That governess is missing!’ came one rough voice.
‘We need to find her,’ another replied. ‘Or Falcon will have our heads.’
Another man swore.
‘Move. We have until daybreak to find her. He wants her aboard the ship before then.’
Charlotte’s blood ran cold, her hand flying instinctively to her mouth.
Lord Stanley turned towards her.
‘Stay here,’ he said quietly.
Charlotte hesitated before nodding.
‘Be careful.’
