If you value your life, you’ll let him come with us. He won’t go inside the house. He’ll stand outside and walk me back home once supper is over.”
The man grumbled, but the desire to save his arm won the day. “His lordship won’t like it.”
Genalynn smiled at him sweetly. “I don’t care.”
Whatever satisfaction she felt quickly vanished when they arrived at the manor house and she noticed more guardsmen than usual posted this evening. Was someone important coming tonight? Suddenly, this dinner party did not feel quite so innocent.
She glanced at Throck.
There were at least ten men gathering behind him.
She tried to run to his side, but she was dragged into the house by the man who’d escorted them here. As the door closed, she saw the others bear down on Throck and then heard shots fired.
She screamed and tried to escape by smashing a vase over the man’s head. He dropped to his knees, but others came running to stop her and haul her into the dining room where her uncle was standing, a glass of port in his hand, and an evil sneer on his lips. “Genalynn, you’re right on time.”
“What game is this?” She kicked the two men who were holding her, then grabbed a plate off the elegantly set table and slammed it into one man’s face. She grabbed a fork and plunged it into the other man’s hand.
More men rushed forward to subdue her.
There was no escape.
They shoved her into a chair and bound her wrists to the wooden arms.
She wouldn’t stop struggling.
“Stop, you devil of a girl!” her uncle roared.
“What have you done to Throck? I’ll strike a bargain with you. Leave him alone and I’ll do whatever you ask. Let me see him. Have you shot him? I must see him.”
Dear heaven, was she too late?
Was Throck dead?
Chapter 13
Gideon had just reached Clovelly and was positioned with Sergeant Travers and a few of his men on a hill overlooking the manor house when they saw the viscount’s men suddenly swarm over Throck. In the next moment, shots rang out. “I’ll get the troops. We’ll ride straight in,” Travers said, but Gideon stopped him.
“No. Lady Genalynn’s in there. Damn it. Let me go down there with one of your men.”
“But Mr. Croft–”
“I’ve been inside the house before. I know my way around. Who’s your best scout?”
He turned to a dark-haired, young soldier kneeling next to them. “Summers is your man.”
He nodded to the boy who looked too young to be a soldier. Perhaps he was getting too old to still be in active service to the Crown. “Come with me, Summers. Keep low and don’t let them see you. I’m going into the house to retrieve some important documents. I’m going to throw them down to you and you are to run like hell back to Sergeant Travers and give them to him for safekeeping.”
“But what about Lady Genalynn?”
“She’ll be safer once I have this bargaining chip. The viscount desperately needs those papers. But it may not even come to that. He still thinks he’s only dealing with Throck. Let them continue to think so until I have her safely away. Then hit them everywhere. The house, the docks. The local taverns. Gather everyone you can find and hold them in your custody.”
Gideon’s heart was in his throat.
He blamed himself for not taking Genalynn back to London with him. She’d refused, insisting on remaining with Throck, as though this giant was a child who could not be left on his own. He’d agreed to let her have her way because he did not believe she was in immediate danger. He hadn’t counted on her uncle doing anything about her before his shipment of weapons had reached its Irish destination and final payment exchanged.
Why had he suddenly decided to grab Genalynn?
He crept closer, moving forward a little at a time, until he’d made it through the gate and into the rear garden. Summers moved just as cautiously, remaining close behind him. “Wait here,” he whispered, climbing up the tree just outside the viscount’s bedchamber. He pried open his window and quietly dropped in, making for the safe hidden under the floorboards.
To his relief, everything was exactly as he’d last seen it. The money, the documents, all of it still here. He gathered everything in one of the viscount’s fancy silk pillowcases and tossed it down to Summers with a silent instruction to run like hell out of there.