If the Viscount Falls (36 page)

The bruiser swallowed against his arm. “There's a lady in there by the name of Nancy. Barlow says he's planning on marrying her. That's all I know.”

“Why did he have you standing guard?”

“To keep the lady from leaving when he ain't around.”

Dom gritted his teeth. Jane had been right. And this had now become far more complicated. “So the lady doesn't actually
want
to marry Barlow, I take it.”

“He won't say. But he keeps her locked in her room.”

“Which room?”

When the man hesitated, Dom jabbed him again.

The bruiser hissed a curse through clenched teeth. “The one at the back, top floor.”

“Is there anyone else in there? Aside from Barlow and the woman?”

The man hesitated. “Don't know.”

That second's delay told Dom the bruiser was probably lying. Damn. Dom could spend all day trying to get the truth out of this idiot.

And now Dom could hear sounds of a carriage coming up the road. That could be another of Barlow's friends—or more than one. Dom didn't fancy being cornered by a pack of prizefighters.

So he tightened his hold on the bruiser until his breathing stopped and the man went limp.

As Dom lowered him to the ground, shadows darkened the end of the alley nearest the street. But before he could even reach for the pistol in his other pocket, a familiar voice drawled, “Told you he'd be in the alley. Dom always prefers seclusion for his interrogations.”

Dom released a breath. Thank God Jane had sent Victor and Tristan here. Wait, how had she known where to tell them to find him?

Jane herself pushed past Tristan and Victor and ran to him. “I'm so glad you're all right!” Catching sight of the bruiser on the ground, she halted. “I-Is he dead?”

“Just unconscious.” Dom glanced at Victor. “A trick your wife told me about after that mess with your brother-in-law last year. I finally found a wrestler to teach it to me, but I've never before used it on a case.”

“Effective,” Tristan said, nudging the prone man with his foot. “You'll have to teach us, too.”

Victor knelt by the fighter. “Guess we'd better tie him up before he comes to, eh?”

“Yes,” Dom said. “He won't stay out long.”

The other two went to work, using rope Victor carried in the agency's traveling coach. Dom was glad he'd brought the massive thing. They might need it.

Meanwhile, Jane was busy opening Dom's coat and checking him over. “You
are
all right, aren't you? He didn't hurt you?”

Dom laughed. “I used to do this for a living, sweeting.
I'm fine.” Then he sobered. “But you were right about Nancy. Barlow's keeping her locked up.”

“I know. Meredith told me. That's how we knew where to find you.” When he arched an eyebrow at her, she added, “It's a long story and I'll tell you later. Right now you have to get Nancy out of there.”

“Agreed.”

Victor brought his rig up alongside the alley, and he and Tristan tossed the trussed and gagged bruiser inside. Then they returned to the alley.

“So, what's the plan?” Tristan asked.

“You take Jane back to her uncle's,” Dom said. “Victor and I will handle getting Nancy out.”

Jane glared at him. “I'm not leaving.”

“You most certainly are,” Dom said firmly.

“But Dom, you need Tristan's help. Samuel has become a thorough villain. You don't know what you're walking into.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “No point in losing a man by sending one off with me.”

“She's got a point,” Victor said.

Damn. She did. “Fine.” Dom fixed Jane with a dour look. “But you have to
swear
you'll just sit in my hackney and stay quiet while we rescue your cousin. Understood?”

“Absolutely,” she said with a sniff. “I don't want to get in the way.”

When Dom snorted, Tristan and Victor both laughed.

“He's got it bad, doesn't he?” Victor said to Tristan.

“You have no idea, old chap,” Tristan answered cheerily.

“Come on, you two dunderheads, night is falling and we don't want to finish this in the dark,” Dom grumbled. “Let's see what we can find out before we go blundering in.” He pointed to the other end of the alley. “That leads to the mews. We might be able to see the back of the house from there, where Barlow is keeping Nancy. If I can trust what that bruiser told me.”

The three men started for the back opening to the alley. Then Dom paused to look back at Jane. “Well?”

“I'm going, I'm going! Do be careful.” She blew him a kiss, then disappeared into the street.

Damn it all. She'd better be true to her word. While he didn't think Barlow was as dangerous as she feared, the arse's prizefighter friends might be.

Fortunately, the house was easy to survey from the mews. With daylight waning, Dom, Victor, and Tristan were able to keep to the shadows and look the situation over. There were only two floors, which made everything easier. Less area to cover, and more chance at finding Nancy quickly. Not to mention, less chance that the house was filled with prizefighters.

“Judging from the number of windows, only two rooms are in the back on the top floor,” Dom said. “That narrows down Nancy's location. Assuming that I can believe that bruiser's information.”

“Do you think Barlow's got a man behind that back door?” Victor asked.

“He might,” Dom said. “It would make sense; Nancy could skip out the back as easily as the front. But from what the bruiser said, any guard is there to keep Nancy
in, not keep others out. I doubt that Barlow expects anyone to know where to find him.”

“You might be right,” Victor said. “No one was saying a word at Barlow's old haunts. We would never have tracked him down if you hadn't followed him.”

“Or if Jane hadn't convinced Meredith to tell us where the house is,” Tristan said. “Your fiancée is quite a woman.”

“I know.” And she never ceased to amaze him. Dom turned to Victor. “You haven't met Barlow, right?”

“I don't think so.”

“Good. Then you can be the one to knock on the front door. Since he doesn't know you, he may actually answer. If he doesn't, you'll have to break in, but that shouldn't be a problem. The houses around here are cheaply made. Either way, while you're subduing Samuel, Tristan and I can break down the back door. I'll deal with whomever's in there while Tristan finds Nancy and gets her out.”

“Hey, why am
I
stuck with Nancy?” Tristan asked.

“Because you're better with women than I am.”

“Tristan's better with women than both of us put together,” Victor said dryly. “And Max.”

Tristan rolled his eyes. “Fine. I suppose that's a workable plan, since I can't imagine that Barlow has more than one extra fellow in there. It's not as if he's dealing with the likes of my bold wife. Zoe might attempt an escape out a window, but I doubt Nancy would.”

“True,” Dom said. “But for all we know, this house is where his prizefighter friends spend their leisure time. We'd better be prepared for anything.”

Because Jane was right: they had no idea what they were walking into.

♦ ♦ ♦

J
ANE SAT WITH
her face glued to the window of the hackney. Thankfully, the carriage was situated close enough to the house that she could just see the entrance up ahead. But it was getting darker now. Soon, she wouldn't be able to see much of anything, unless the lamps were lit inside.

Suddenly Victor emerged from the alley, making her start. What the devil was he doing?

He strolled up the steps of the house to knock on the door. Sweet Lord! Her pulse went into a stampede, especially when, moments later, Victor vanished inside.

Faith, she couldn't see anything else from here! The dratted house windows were curtained, too, which was vastly annoying. She lowered the carriage window, hoping to hear what was going on, but not a sound came from the house. Was that good or bad? Were they inside? How long did it
take
to corral a villain, anyway?

Oh, if only she dared get out, but Dom had been very firm about that. And though she might ignore some of his orders, she suspected that in this case, it was best to heed it.

Then a shot sounded from the house, and her heart jumped into her throat. Seconds later, a man darted from the house. He was running right toward her, so she got a good look at him.

Samuel. Sweet Lord. Somehow he'd gotten past
Victor. And he had a pistol in his hand. The blackguard had probably shot Victor, or worse, Dom! And he was getting away!

Not on her watch, he wasn't.

She didn't stop to think. As he came abreast of the carriage, she swung the door of the carriage open, directly into his path.

It knocked him right off his feet. As he lay there, stunned, she leapt out and marched over to him. A red haze filled her vision at the thought of everything he'd done, and she dug the heel of her half boot into the wrist of the hand holding the gun. As Samuel let out a howl, she wrenched the pistol from his hand. Then she backed up and aimed it at him, praying she could pull the trigger if she had to.

Not that she was likely to hit anything if she did; she'd never shot a firearm in her life. But he was
not
escaping, drat it.

Samuel stumbled to his feet, then blanched. “Jane!”

“Yes, it's Jane, you . . . you . . . vile . . . horrible . . .
arse
!”

“Give me the gun, Jane,” he said hoarsely, fixing his gaze on it. “You don't want to be playing with that.”

With her blood beating a fearful tattoo through her veins, she steadied the pistol in the general direction of his heart. Though she could think of better places to shoot him, frankly. “I'm not playing. And you're not going anywhere.”

Samuel lunged at her, and the pistol went off.

Which was odd, because she couldn't remember
pulling the trigger. But she must have, because smoke came out of the end of the pistol and he cried out and dropped to the ground at her feet, grabbing his thigh.

As Samuel rolled there, clutching at his leg and howling, Victor skidded to a halt beside him.

“Good shot, Jane!” The grin he flashed her reminded her instantly of Max. “I saw you hit him with the carriage door, too. Excellent work. We'll have to make you an honorary Duke's Man.”

“Over my dead body,” Dom growled as he ran up beside her. He tried to divest her of the pistol, but she had a death grip on it. “Let go of it, love,” he said, his tone gentler. “You got him. You're safe now.”

Releasing the gun to him, she began to shake. “I-I wasn't worried about m-me; I w-was worried about
you
. I heard that shot and saw him with the pistol and I . . . I just knew . . . h-he'd killed . . .”

Dom pulled her into his arms. “We're all fine, I swear. The prizefighter who answered the door lunged at Victor with a blade when he realized what was up, and Victor shot him. The man's inside. He'll live.” He pressed a kiss into her hair. “Samuel was with Nancy when Tristan and I broke in the back, and he tried to use her to escape. Held that pistol to her head, then pushed her at us right before he ran out the door.”

She stared up at him. “So . . . So Nancy is—”

“Jane!” cried a voice from near the house, and she looked up to see her cousin following Tristan, who was shoving a bound fighter ahead of him down the steps.

“Oh, heavens, Nancy!” Jane cried. “You're all right!”

Tears started in her eyes as she ran past Samuel toward her cousin. They met in a tight embrace, both of them crying and laughing and babbling all at the same time.

Jane held Nancy at arm's length to look her over and be sure she was okay. Her cousin was pale and dirty, with dark circles under her eyes, but she didn't look seriously harmed. “He didn't . . . Samuel didn't . . . force you to . . .”

“No,” Nancy said. “No, not that.” Her voice hardened as she gazed past Jane to where Samuel still writhed on the ground. “What happened to him?”

Dom came up behind them. “Jane shot him.”

“She missed his privates by only a couple of inches,” Victor said in an admiring voice.

“A pity she didn't hit them.” Nancy darted past Jane to stare down at Samuel with her hands planted on her hips. Then, to Jane's shock, she kicked him in the ribs. “That's for lying to me.” She kicked him in the knee. “And that's for kidnapping me.”

“Nancy, darling—” he choked out.

“Don't you ‘darling' me, you worm!” She ground her heel into his wounded leg. “You held a pistol to my head, you disgusting, reprehensible—”

“Enough,” Victor said, pulling Nancy away from Samuel. “I think he's got the point.”

“You bitch!” Samuel cried after her. “I could have made you a rich woman! We could have had the whole thing, you frigid little—”

Jane kicked him herself. As a choked howl escaped
him, she glared down at him. “Now, you listen to me, Samuel Barlow. Next time you come near my family, I'll make sure I
hit
your privates! And furthermore—”

“Perhaps you should take the ladies home,” Victor told Dom, “while we bring the three scoundrels to the magistrate's and have them held until charges can be brought. I begin to think they'll be safer with me and Tristan than with the ladies.”

Dom chuckled. “I believe you're right.” He slipped an arm about Jane's waist to pull her away from Samuel. “Come on, sweeting, time to go.”

The last thing Jane saw of Samuel before Dom helped her and Nancy into the hackney was Tristan and Victor hauling him into a massive carriage. Dom climbed up onto the box and pulled away from the house.