“But not me,” Edie said, “And not you if you’ll but come with me.”
Rose wrapped the boy closer in her plump arms. “It has naught to do with us.”
Kincaid nodded to Fox. “Tie her up then. We’ll have her charged as an accessory to the murder.”
“Come then, Rose.” Edie put an arm around her. “Come with Edie. We’ll bring your grandson out of here. We’ll take him home where he can chase chickens and play with my cousin’s boy.”
Fox pulled out a length of rope.
“Wait.” Perry edged closer. Old Rose smelled of bacon and bread. “Rose, Sir Richard murdered my mother, and my fa-father. Or, perhaps…does he have him upstairs, Rose?”
The old woman’s face went impossibly pale. She looked like a mound of poked flour ready to crumble.
Perry touched an arm as soft as bread dough. “Does he, Rose? He’ll murder him soon. And you’re helping him.”
“Has he killed him already, Rose?” Edie asked.
A chill rolled down Perry’s back at the matter-of-fact tone. Was murder so common for these people?
Rose let out a breath. “If ’twere him, he was still alive when I took up the Squire’s breakfast a bit ago. Had a man tied to a chair in the front parlor, the Squire did.”
“Who else is in the house?” Fox asked.
“The Squire and some boys he has up from Scarborough.”
“How many?”
“I don’t know. None that I needed to feed.”
“Take them and leave, Edie,” Fox said.
“We’ll wait in the storeroom,” Edie said.
“No.” Perry shook her head. “If things don’t go right, he’ll search there first.”
Fox gave her shoulder a squeeze. “There’s a man in the stable, tied up. If you trust him, take him along, also. Go through the copse and stay off the road.”
Outside the closed parlor door,they heard faint voices, one man talking, another croaking a response. Perry reached for the door latch, but Fox pulled her into his arms, keeping one eye on the deserted hall.
Kincaid’s proposal to clear the upstairs first until the others joined them had been overruled, the ladies voting for urgency.
“Not yet,” Fox whispered. Kincaid and Lady Jane needed time to get down the servant’s corridor skirting the other side of the room and deal with anyone lurking there.
She frowned up at him, and he squeezed her shoulder. Fear and determination quaked in her. She wanted to get on with this and fight, and he needed just one more moment with her.
He cradled her head and pressed his lips to hers, trying to convey in as short a time as possible, as much love as possible. He kissed her until she stopped trembling, until a thread of annoyance crept into her gaze, and then he stepped back and nudged her away from the door.
Be damned if she was going to die today.
He turned the latch on the door.
Locked. Hell.
Perry went to her knees and began working. She was good at this task, much better than he was. Picking locks had never been a necessity for his kind of spying.
A shot rang out, muffled, and someone screamed. Perry’s fingers slipped, the picks clanging as they fell. On the other side, a key scraped and the latch turned.
Perry snatchedthe fallen picks as she rolled away and shoved them back into her pocket, her skirts tangling. Air whooshed over her and the door crashed into something solid.
