“You deceitful, odiousliar,” Lady Fontaine cried in outrage. “I trusted you. Ilovedyou.”
She lunged at him. Hannah shrieked and dove for her, and Lord Downes backed swiftly from both of them, holding his pipe closer to the dynamite.
Adam, brave lad, went afterhim, and I leapt for Adam, terrified the boy would provoke Lord Downes into lighting the stick.
“I’d stay away,” Lord Downes said. “Unless you want us all to go up.”
Lady Fontaine, her anger becoming a frenzy, twisted from Hannah, lifted a heavy paperweight from the desk and threw it at Lord Downes.
He ducked the missile, which thudded into the bookcase behind him, but as he swerved, his boot heel caught on the carpet, and he tripped. He flailed as he started to fall, a terrified light in his eyes.
I knew in an instant Lord Downes had no wish to light that dynamite while he held it. He’d planned only to flee, cover his crimes, and start again as an innocuous English lordship relaxing in the cafés of Paris.
He’d sip coffee and reminisce about the English countryside, while his friends informed him what a lucky escape he’d had from his home in Belgrave Square. The Fenians would be blamed for the bombs, and Lord Downes would never be connected to their crimes.
As he desperately tried to right himself, Lord Downes clutched the pipe in his hand so hard that its bowl broke. Burning embers singed his fingers, and he cried out.
Lord Downes hit the floor, the single stick of dynamite falling to the carpet. A glob of burning tobacco burst from the broken pipe and plunged toward the pile of explosives behind him.
I flung myself at the small glow of fire, batting Adam and Lord Downes aside. I grabbed the bright clump, which burned my hand something fierce, and took it down to the floor with me. I beat out every spark into the carpet, and kept beating, the pile of dynamite inches from my face.
I heard pounding footsteps as I lay face down, my hands smarting, my body aching. Lady Fontaine was sobbing, Hannah trying to persuade her out. Lord Downes floundered like a bug on his back. He struggled to rise, and Adam stepped on his stomach.
Men poured into the room, responding to the summons I’d put forth before I’d followed Adam to Belgrave Square.
“No!” I shouted. “There’s dynamite everywhere.” One spark from a policeman’s boot would send the lot of us up.
A hand in a thick leather glove reached to me. I looked up to behold Daniel, his forbidding expression mixed with one of relief that he’d found me alive.
I folded my burned right hand to my chest and clutched at him with my left. I let out a gasp when that one stung as well.
“Kat, what the devil?” Daniel pulled me to my feet, then gently unfolded my hands to reveal the hot red marks from where I’d pounded at the wad of fiery tobacco.
“Better stinging skin than going up with this house,” I said shakily. I cast my gaze to the policemen who surrounded the dynamite in a respectful manner. “Tell them to be careful.”
“They know what to do,” Daniel assured me. “They were already dismantling explosives at the base of Nelson’s Column when your lads found us. Now come away and let them work.”
“Lord Downes organized everything,” I babbled as Daniel helped me stumble from the room. “He confessed as much. He would have been happy to kill us all while he ran free. I hopeyou dig a deep hole and drop him into it,” I finished adamantly.
Daniel steered me into the hall, where I wilted against him, my legs weak. Two brushes with death within a week were not good for me.
“I heard him,” Daniel said. “More importantly, Monaghan did.” He nodded at the gray-haired gent with round spectacles giving orders in his unfeeling tones. “I’ve had my eye on Downes for a while. There had to be some way information was getting to and from the Fenians, and if it wasn’t Lord Peyton or his friends, then who? Lord Downes was a bit too much the anti-Irish, anti-Catholic, anti-anyone-but-men-exactly-like-himself cliché to be believed.”
“Yet, he is that,” I said, my voice scratchy. “But not for the reasons one would think.”
“Hush, now.” Daniel towed me away, past the constables, Inspector McGregor with his usual glower, Sergeant Scott’s cool efficiency, and the chill stare of Mr.Monaghan.
Hannah and Adam were leading Lady Fontaine, who wept and asked anyone within hearing why she’d deserved Lord Downes to be so horrible to her. We made it downstairs and finally emerged from the house, a curious crowd filling the street. London loved a spectacle.
Adam, or rather, Sean—I had to remember to call him by his correct name—ran to me and flung his arms around my waist.
“Thank you, Mrs.Holloway.” His words were tremulous. “Thank you.”
He broke from me then and raced after Hannah, who was assisting Lady Fontaine along the street and across into the park. It wouldn’t be safe for Lady Fontaine to go back intoLord Peyton’s house, as much as she protested she wanted to, until Lord Downes’s home was cleared of all explosives.
Daniel would not let me linger and propelled me gently onward. I saw Mr.Fielding’s groom among the crowd, along with youths big and small who’d been protecting me all these weeks. Lord Downes’s kitchen maid, I was happy to see, was among them. He’d not have spared her if she’d lingered too long over her pots.
I spied Mr.Grimes as well, who pushed through the onlookers and lumbered to us.
