An Unexpected Earl (Lords of the Armory #2) - Anna Harrington Page 0,106

for one of the green apples piled in a bowl on the table. “As soon as Scepter learns that he plans on testifying, they’ll make certain he can’t implicate them.” He shined the apple on his jacket sleeve. “He’ll be found dead in his cell by morning.”

Pearce couldn’t let that happen. Amelia would be devastated. For all that her brother was a criminal, she was still dedicated to him. “We have to find a way to get him to safety before Scepter gets to him first.”

“Agreed. And make him tell us what he knows.” Marcus swirled the cognac in his glass. “But how?”

“Too bad the prison can’t burn down,” Clayton mused. “He could conveniently escape in the confusion.”

Pearce added with a touch of sarcasm, “Where’s a good riot when you need one?”

A beat of silence, then—

“I can get us a riot,” Merritt said casually, kicking his feet onto the table and biting into the apple. “How big do you need it to be?”

All three men turned their heads to stare at him. And blinked.

He paused midchew to mumble around the bite of apple, “What?”

Clayton looked at him as if he’d just sprouted a second head. “What exactly is it that you do at night when you’re not here?”

Merritt grinned and sank his teeth into the apple for a second bite.

The iron hinges of the outer courtyard door screeched, followed seconds later by the bang of the inner door as it opened. All four men jumped to their feet, with Merritt reaching for the knife in his sleeve and Clayton for the pistol beneath his jacket.

“Brigadier!” The shout echoed from the short entry hall.

Merritt and Clayton both dropped their hands away from their weapons, the sudden tension in their bodies vanishing.

McTavish hurried into the main room and halted, then stared in surprise at the transformed old building.

“Bloody hell,” he spat out and turned completely around in a circle to take in the octagonal room around him. “What is this place?” Then his gaze fell on the men, and he snapped to attention. “Sirs!”

“At ease, McTavish,” Pearce ordered. Unease settled like a weight onto his chest. “Why are you here?”

“This arrived at the house.” He held out a sealed note. “The delivery boy said it was urgent. So I came looking for you.” He slid a cautious look at the other men before lowering his voice and adding, “Thought it might have something to do with last night’s visitor.”

Amelia. Pearce hadn’t seen her yet, but he was certain she’d been at the prison attempting to free her brother or at the Inns of Court hiring lawyers. He’d wanted to talk to Charles Varnham before he talked to her so that he would have good news for her when he did. But that didn’t happen.

“What boy?” Pearce broke the wax seal and opened the note.

McTavish shrugged. “Just a messenger. Said a man paid him a coin to bring it to the house, then promised a second coin when he brought back proof that he’d delivered it.”

Dread spilled through him. Street urchins were often used as anonymous messengers in the city. Their ubiquitous presence meant they largely went unnoticed, even in Mayfair. But Amelia would never have used them, instead sending her maid as she’d done that morning.

He scanned over the masculine handwriting. And his heart stopped.

Miss Howard is in my care. She’ll be released unharmed when Parliament passes the trust. I advise you to hurry as it’s rather difficult to feed her in her current position.

“He’s got Amelia,” he rasped out.

“Who?” Marcus took the note and read it.

The message was unsigned, but Pearce knew… “Arthur Varnham.”

Clayton read the note over Marcus’s shoulder. “Sir Charles’s brother? Why would he kidnap her?”

“Because he still has three men from Scepter to place into government positions, and Howard can’t do it.” A murderous anger rose inside him that he had never felt before, not even in the heat of battle. “So he’s using Amelia to force me into pushing the trust through.”

“Parliament’s session ends in less than a fortnight. The chance of passing that act now with Howard in gaol is slim at best. If it doesn’t pass—”

“Then he’ll let her starve to death.” He took back the note and read it again, looking for any clues that would lead him to Amelia. “So we rescue her. Tonight.”

Merritt shook his head. “Where do we start? Varnham could be holding her anywhere.”

“I know exactly where she is.” He crumpled the note in his fist. “And when she’s safe,