Authors: Hannah Howell
“If he is stil up here, we wil get that boy,” she promised, thinking on how they would pass near the kitchen on their way to where the Kenwood
people al huddled in a too-smal room. “What happened to Dilys?”
“I runned away from her when I could not see Jem.”
“We shal discuss how naughty that was later, but we have to go now. Al of us.”
“We be fine right here,” said Brindle.
“Nay, you are not. Where would you run to if some man opened the door? These men have guns. You can hear them.”
Brindle shrugged her thin shoulders. “Then I wil be shot.”
There was such resignation in the child’s face it took al of Chloe’s wil power to fight the urge to pul her into her arms and hug her. Something was
very wrong here. Anthony was speaking of a pot boy who was rarely fed, and now she had two very thin children hiding in the closet with the tablecloths
and other linen. The two scul ery maids had also been left behind to fend for themselves. Chloe could not believe that Julian would ever treat children this way, but she had no more time left to get answers to the many questions now rippling through her mind.
“No more arguing. We go now. We wil find the pot boy, Anthony.” She held her hand out to Brindle. “Come along.”
“Nay.”
Chloe grabbed Brindle by the arm and pul ed her out of the linen closet and the boy quickly fol owed. “You do not get to say nay to a countess,
young lady, especial y not when she is trying very hard to get you to safety. Hang on,” she told Drew.
It was not easy, but Chloe shepherded the children toward the kitchen using a complicated path ful of twists and turns. Each time she heard
someone moving around, she went in the opposite direction. The kitchen was not that far away from where she needed to take them to safety, but if she
kept winding her way through the house it could take a long time to get there. She kept everyone as close to the wal as she could because of the gunfire.
Every now and then she could hear glass shatter as a bul et cut through it. Under the arm she had draped around Brindle and Drew she could feel the boy
shaking. The men Julian and Leo had placed to guard the house were doing their best and she had the sinking feeling that some would die, but the men
attacking the house were getting closer. She could actual y hear them shout at each other.
The moment they entered the kitchen, Anthony broke free of her grasp and ran to the oven, peering behind it. The boy did not seem to notice the
blood on the floor and she hoped he continued to be blind to it. Brindle glanced down at it and then looked at Chloe with wide, slightly frightened eyes.
Chloe did not like to see the girl so frightened, but it was a far better look than the one of complete resignation to whatever fate handed out she had
before. She held her finger to her lips and the little girl nodded.
“Jem is gone,” Anthony said.
“I am sorry for that, darling boy, but we cannot search the house for him. We have to go to that room. There are four of us to worry about now. We
must pray that Jem has found a safe place to hide.”
“Mayhap you ought to pray for yourself.”
Chloe shoved al three children behind her back even as she turned toward that voice. It was only barely recognizable, as was the man standing
before her, a pistol in his hand. It was as feral as he looked. Arthur had definitely been living very rough since that last time she had seen him. His fine clothes were dirty and worn, his hair was dark with dirt and sweat, and his face looked as if he had aged ten years. It was in his eyes that she saw the
madness that had gripped him.
“Greetings, Sir Arthur,” she said. She clutched her hands in her skirts as any frightened woman might do, but she did it to hide the fact that she
was holding her skirts out a little to further hide the children.
“Sir,” he snarled and spat on the floor. “I should have been the earl.”
“I believe you have made that clear. If not in word then in deed.”
“You are the one who saved the brat.” His voice carried a harsh accusation and he aimed the pistol right at her. “That was a damn good plan and
you ruined it.”
To her relief the children started slipping away. Chloe suspected it was the girl Brindle who was trying to get the two younger children out of reach
and had the sense to use Arthur’s distraction with her to the best advantage. The girl had the look of one who knew how to take responsibility for others.
Chloe needed to make sure that Arthur stayed distracted until the children were safely out of his reach.
“You put him in my house. That made him mine, and I chose to let him live.”
“I put him there to die, you stupid cow!”
“I am sorry, sir, but I could not al ow that to happen.”
“We be gone now.”
The whispery words were hard to hear, but Chloe caught them and she gave a sigh of relief. To her dismay, the look on Arthur’s face told her he
had heard them, too. Chloe prayed that the children were already too far away for him to catch. Al he would need was one look at Anthony and he would
know whose child he was.
“What was that?” he demanded as he stared in the direction Brindle had taken the two boys.
“I have no idea.”
“Liar. But then al women are. They are born to the art. At least Beatrice did not try to be something she was not. She was born a whore and she
clung to that truth until the day she died.”
“You mean the day you kil ed her, do you not?”
“Figured that out, did you?”
“It was not so hard. No one else had a reason, at least a reason that made any sense. You, however, had a lot of reasons, for she was destroying
your plans for Colinsmoor.”
“We had everything planned, but that fool Julian just would not die. And you were there, always there. You saved him when he got stabbed in the
al ey, I know it. Save the baby, save the man. Busy. Wel , you wil not be able to save him this time, neither him nor his family. And by family I include that little brat.”
“Your own family is here, too. Your wife and your daughters.”
“Ah, God save me, that stupid cow. Could not even give me a son, could she. No, she just kept grunting out daughters. I have decided I am going
to let her watch me kil the little bitches before I kil her. Make her feel the grief I felt each time she failed to give me my son. And then that fool Julian gets a son off Beatrice. Sweet Jesus, off Beatrice, who had rutted with near half the county and never once got with child.
“Wel , he does not deserve a son. Weakling that he is. He could not bring himself to kil his wife even though she cuckolded him from the
beginning. Ha, he cannot even be sure the boy is his. Beatrice spread her legs for any man, even the ditch-diggers if she liked the look of them. For al
any of you know the brat is the get of some ditch-digger.”
“Nay, he is Julian’s son. He has the mark.”
The fury that contorted Arthur’s face was terrifying. Every part of Chloe’s body was screaming at her to run but she knew that would only get her
shot in the back. She could see her death in his eyes. He wanted to kil her simply because she had told him Anthony real y was legitimate. Chloe forced
herself not to put her hand over her stomach. If this madman suspected she might be carrying a child for Julian, she knew he would shoot her dead before
she could take her next breath. What had her terrified was that she could see no way out of this trap.
Julian slammed his fist in the face of the man who blocked his way to the wine cel ar. He needed to get down there and reassure himself that his
family was safe. Nigel covered his back as he shoved the unconscious man aside, but before he could take a step he heard Nigel curse. Slowly, his pistol
at the ready, Julian turned around and nearly gaped. Standing only a few feet away were his son and two very thin children.
“Papa!” Anthony cried and ran to him.
Julian shoved his pistol in his waistband and caught his son up in his arms. He looked at the other two children and wondered where Anthony had
found the waifs. The girl held tight to the hand of the little boy and watched him and Nigel as if they might turn on her at any moment. Anthony turned in his arms and pointed at the children.
“These are my fwiends, Papa. That is Brindle and that is Dew.”
“Drew,” the little boy muttered.
“I said that.” Anthony took his father’s face in his little hands. “You need to go gets Mama. A bad man has her in the kitchen. Brindle saw him.”
Julian looked at the little girl again. It was difficult to guess what age she was, but he suspected she was a few years older than Anthony and could
Julian looked at the little girl again. It was difficult to guess what age she was, but he suspected she was a few years older than Anthony and could
probably speak more clearly. There was wisdom in her eyes, one born of a hard life. He needed more information than the fact that a bad man had
trapped Chloe in the kitchen. Julian handed Anthony to Nigel.
“That is your uncle Nigel, Anthony,” he said as he took a careful step closer to the children, not wanting to frighten them. “He has just come home
from far away. He was a soldier.” Hearing Nigel and Anthony talking softly, Julian crouched down in front of the children. “Do you know who I am?”
“The earl,” the girl replied. “I am Brindle. I empty the ash buckets. This is Drew. He is the boot boy.”
Julian wondered why he had never seen them before, as wel as why they looked as if they had not had a bath for months and maybe not a decent
meal for at least that long. “I need you to tel me if you saw my wife, if you saw the countess.”
Brindle nodded. “She is in the kitchen. We went to look for the pot boy but he was already gone. Then the man came behind her and stuck his big
pistol right at her.”
“She put us al behind her,” said the little boy.
“She did that and she nudged me and I knew she wanted me to get the lads away, so I did. She kept her skirts held out a bit so that man would
never see us and we crept away while she kept him looking right at her and talking to her and waving that pistol round. You going to go get her and kil that fool?”
“I wil do my best. There is only the one man?”
“Just one, but he has a bad look on his face. A real bad look. Makes you feel like you better run real fast afore he starts looking at you with them
mad eyes.”
Julian stood up and looked at his brother. “Guard the children. I wil make my way to the kitchen and see what is happening there.”
“I done just told you what is happening,” said Brindle.
He forced himself to smile pleasantly when al he could think of at the moment was getting to Chloe as fast as he could. “I know, but I need to see
where he is standing and what he carries for a pistol. It is important that I gather a bit more information or al I may accomplish is getting my wife kil ed.”
“That be what he is going to do anyway,” grumbled Brindle. “He got a kil ing look in his eye. Not just a rutting one.”
“She cal ed him Sir Arthur,” said Drew. “He looks like the man what used to live here and liked to touch the girls, but dirtier. Go kil him now,
because she was nice and I doan want him to be hurting her.”
The words the two children said burned into Julian’s brain but he had no time to think on this newest revelation—that his uncle abused very young
girls. Now he had to go and try to save his wife. Moving silently, he made his way toward the kitchen. The sight that met his gaze nearly made him act
foolishly. He wanted to cut his uncle down just for holding a gun on Chloe, for threatening her life, and, if the paleness of her skin was any indication, for frightening her. He did not need Nigel’s silent presence at his back to know that would be a bad idea. Arthur stil had his pistol aimed straight at Chloe’s heart. Julian could not chance that the man might pul the trigger even as he died.
“Nay, he is Julian’s son,” Chloe said. “He has the mark.”
Julian was stunned by the rage that twisted Arthur’s once handsome features. Arthur must have thought that Julian was trying to fool everyone,
might even have planned some grand denouement. The news that Anthony had the Kenwood birthmark had shattered the last hope that he might yet win
this game, or, at the very least, win another seat at the card table.
A movement to the right of Arthur caught Julian’s attention briefly. With one eye on his very stil wife, he glanced in that direction and saw a filthy
boy with a thick short club in his hand. He was staring at Arthur with a wild look of hatred. Suddenly, as if the boy sensed his presence, the boy glanced at Julian and Julian took that moment to slowly shake his head. He could not afford having the child try some grand rescue. Then, silently stepping up behind
the boy came his mother and his aunt. Was anyone down in the room that had been so careful y built to keep the family safe, he thought a little wildly.
“I think I wil wait until Julian is close enough to watch you die. He had once sworn that he would never take a wife again and yet, here he is,
married to you, a filthy Wherlocke.”
“Actual y, I bathed today,” she murmured.
“Are you foolish enough to think I wil not kil you simply because you are a woman?”
“Nay, I know that that is your plan. You wish to wipe out the Kenwood line, at least the one you could rule.”
Julian heard a very soft shuffle, as if someone had just tried to take a step with ful y lifting his foot off the floor. Unfortunately, Arthur heard it too and looked at him. The man’s eyes widened and he grabbed Chloe by one arm, dragging her across the thick table that had separated them. The soft cry of
pain that escaped Chloe had Julian instinctively raising his pistol and aiming it at Arthur’s head. Arthur then pushed her down so that she was lying half on the table on her back. He drew a knife from his belt and held it to Chloe’s chest as he set his pistol down out of her reach and then, in a movement too