Indeed, to be poisoned in one’s own home...Yes, of course, such an incident would make anyone paranoid, Grace thought as she followed him inside.
As Holden had said, the library was dark and cold. The candle he carried did little to illuminate more than a few feet ahead.
‘I had no idea... if I had known, I would have prepared the room for you earlier,’ Holden said, his tone almost apologetic.
‘Please, do not trouble yourself. It is of no consequence,’ she reassured him.
But just as she turned a corner, she came face to face with Lady Jane, who was holding a book in one hand and a candle stick in the other.
‘Oh!’ Lady Jane gasped, looking startled. ‘You frightened me.’
Holden raised a brow. ‘Lady Jane, I had no idea you were here.’ His face betrayed no emotion, but his voice was laced with curiosity. It seemed, Holden had no idea about a lot of things tonight.
‘Oh, yes,’ Lady Jane said breezily, recovering her composure. ‘His Grace gave me access to the library some time ago. You must not have been informed—you are still new, after all.’
The excuse felt hollow. Why had Holden not known this?And why did Lady Jane seem so dismissive of it?
But before Grace could dwell on it, Lady Jane turned to her with a warm smile. ‘Were you also looking for a book? There is a nice selection here.’ She gestured towards a bookshelf.
Not wanting to draw attention to her suspicions, Grace selected the first book that caught her eye and walked out with Lady Jane.
As they stepped into the corridor, they were met by Lord Gerrard.
His appearance made Grace pause. Gone was the excessive pomade that had previously kept his hair slicked back; instead, his dark locks were slightly tousled, as though he had run his fingers through them repeatedly. Had he taken Lady Elizabeth’s advice to heart?
More to the point—where had he been?
She followed his gaze and realised he had just emerged from the study.Had he been writing letters, as he claimed?
As Grace peered through the slightly ajar door, she caught a glimpse of a large desk and several chairs. Her fingers itched to go inside and see if anything had been disturbed. But she did not know the room well enough to discern whether anything was amiss.
If Lord Gerrardhadbeen up to something, he gave nothing away. With his usual easy charm, he offered his arm to Lady Jane, and the two set off towards the drawing room.
Grace, however, made her excuses and retired early to her chambers.
AS THE HOUR APPROACHED, Grace grew increasingly apprehensive. Lord Armitage had warned that this was a dangerous mission, and she began to worry about what might happen to him. As she ruminated, a quiet knock sounded at her door, and he entered, disguised as a commoner.
Grace was ready, clad in her darkest cloak with a heavy hood. He studied her appearance and, seemingly satisfied, simply held out his hand and said, ‘Come.’
They slipped out silently, taking a short passageway through the servants’ entrance, which had been left open. At the rear of the house, a carriage awaited them, and they climbed inside.
Neither spoke as they rode through the darkened streets. A long while later, when they seemed to have reached their destination, he finally broke the silence.
‘My friend and two other disguised Runners will be meeting me at the back. We will get the girls out and bring them here.’
Now his expression turned grave. He took both her hands into his own, his grip firm and possessive. ‘Promise me, if we do not return in half an hour, you will go back to the house. I have instructed the driver to leave if we are not back in time. Promise me that under no circumstances will you step out of this carriage.’
The urgency in his voice sent a pang through her. Although she had no intention of leaving him to danger, she also knew he would not depart until she agreed. To keep her response ambiguous, she simply nodded.
That was all he needed. He released her hands, then stepped out of the carriage. It was only then that she noticed the firearm concealed beneath his jacket.
The next half-hour was the longest of her life. She was terrified something had gone wrong. She kept staring out of the glass window—streetlamps illuminated the dimly lit road, andshe could see the building he had entered, but there was no sign of movement.
As the waiting time drew to an end, she resolved to stop the driver from leaving, even if it meant throwing herself in front of the horses. Just as she reached for the door handle, three figures emerged from the shadows, each carrying a struggling girl.
One of the figures was unmistakably the Duke.
The third man—a shorter, rounder fellow—was visibly struggling to restrain his captive. The girl twisted violently, then kicked him in the gut, breaking free.
