Annalise climbed into the coach with a backwards glance to where Sarah had climbed the steps to Orson Hall. The girl was smarter than Annalise could have hoped.
Mrs. Sable climbed in beside her and again pressed the gun into Annalise’s side.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“Where else? Amgen House. The government has thoroughly searched it and paid Amgen his rents for a year. By the time they think to look there, your body shall be thoroughly rotted. Surprise!” A cackle spoke of the woman’s purpose and her evident madness. “Avery appropriate gift to Lord Duncan and his sons.”
Annalise now wished she had spent more time exploring London proper, for she had no idea where the coach was headed, but it was assuredly not to Amgen House. She knew where Amgen House was in relation to her brother’s house, and the coach was headed in the opposite direction. “How did you come to assist Mr. Stark?” she asked in a submissive tone, for she knew something of Mrs. Sable’s authoritative nature.
“Mr. Stark assists me,” the woman replied with a bit of hardness, “not the other way around.”
“I understand you have known my uncle for some time,” Annalise suggested.
Mrs. Sable snarled her contempt. “I met Moran before he set himself the mission of claiming your mother—thought himself worthy of those of the ruling class. Likes to style himself as a lord. Men are foolish in that manner. Every lord I have encountered was worthless as a worm on a stick and hanging over a fire in hopes of feeding a starving family.”
Outside, the scenery had changed from fine houses to more shops and impressive buildings. “Whitehall,” Mrs. Sable said with a snarl, which Annalise did not understand the woman’s contempt, but it was obvious Amgen House was not their destination. Soon they would be outside the city, and then what would become of her? Likely her body would be dumped into the Thames or one of its tributaries, and no one would ever know her fate. If she were to escape, it would be necessary to do so sooner, rather than later. Whatever she did, she would likely know injury.
“Is that…?” she began, but Mrs. Sable jabbed her again with the gun’s short barrel. Annalise remembered that Lady Emma had once commented on how one could recognize the Lyon’s Den, for it was painted a light blue.Now or never! Annalise thought.
“Nothing foolish, my lady,” her captor growled, but Annalise didnot listen. She spun as best she could in the tight quarters to elbow Mrs. Sable across the throat and reached for the door latch. Mrs. Sable was clawing at Annalise’s arm, but she managed to shove the woman backwards, as Mr. Stark pulled up hard on the reins. A pang of pain slammed through her ankle as she landed on the bricked street, while a shot rang out from somewhere behind her. A burning flared to life along her side as she stumbled and collapsed on the bricks before the blue house. It was not what she expected.
Several men were shouting as her fingernails dug into the dirt between the bricks, and she attempted to rise. She could hear Mr. Stark calling to the horses to respond and the sound of the carriage rolling away, as three men surrounded her. One of them gently rolled her to her back.
“We have you, miss,” he assured. “Theseus, fetch Mr. Rheem. Egeus, find something on which we can support her and inform the mistress of what has occurred.” He claimed his handkerchief to press against her side. “Can you tell me your name, miss, so I might have someone fetch your kin?”
“Lady… Anna…” she began, but the sky above her head turned dark as she succumbed to her fears and the pain.
