His gaze held hers, tortured in the light of the flickering flame.
“No one can help me now.”
CHAPTER 36
It was taking far too long to reach Raven’s Court, every beat of horse’s hooves like a death knell. The fury and fear in Lucien’s gut magnified from the moment he heard Simon’s shout in the crowded London street, glimpsed his glistening Turkoman horse approaching. He’d entrusted his brother with one task, to guard Grace tonight. And Simon had left her—and everyone they loved most—in the townhouse with a man bent on murder.
He’d never forget the horror on Simon’s face when he had roared out the truth. The pair pushing their mounts to the limit, eyes fixed in the direction of Raven’s Court, dreading the sound of an explosion, the orange red stain of fire against the night dark sky.
At the gate, Lucien dismounted, the guards rushing toward their lathered horses.
“Nolan is here with a bomb,”he warned. “After my announcement, move people outside as quickly and calmly as you are able. We don’t dare alarm Nolan. It might spur him to ignite whatever hellish device he’s smuggled in.”
“Ifhe managed to get past all of the safeguards we put in place,” MacLeod averred. Lucien felt a slight bit of hope, but hisgut told him differently. They had been guarding against rabble from the streets. If what O’Malley had said was true, whoever had planned this, had access to ton society. Could be anyone he’d seen across a ballroom or in the halls of parliament.
Simon raced inside, bound for the nursery to fetch Kit. Now, the other men fanned out to sweep the premises, searching for Nolan and evacuating the household staff and guests.
Lucien fought to keep the fear from his voice as he drew the crowd’s attention. “…withdraw to the back garden at once…an exhibition you will never forget.”
He heard a murmur of confusion, some faint protest that it was December…yet no one dared question him in his own home, thank God. Grateful for the power the Harcourt name could wield, he made his way through the crowd flowing out the door to the entertainment that didn’t exist.
Lucien felt a jolt of relief to see MacLeod was with Cassandra, Jane and Penelope, something fierce and unreadable in the Scotsman’s face as he grasped Cassandra’s arm.
But where was Grace?
Lucien scanned the room, his gaze suddenly arrested by two figures beneath one of the street lamps. Lucien’s blood froze. Grace was caught in the man’s arm, a branch of candles wavering in his other hand. Something dark had spilled from an overturned barrel and spread in a pool beneath her skirts. Gunpowder.
He heard a soft oath from nearby guards looking in the same direction and saw them grope for their pistols.
If they fired, they could hit Grace or the candlestick would fall, setting gunpowder ablaze.
If Lucien moved closer, Nolan could well ignite the bomb. But he had to try to dissuade him. “Leave us,” Lucien ordered, pulling out the crumpled sketch.
“But, my lord?—”
“I said,leave us.”
Grace’s gaze clung to his, her whole body trembling. Lucien held out the crumpled sketch, his hands, palms up, as he walked toward where Grace stood.
“Darragh Nolan. I’ve just come from Moira on Little White Lion Street. This is you, isn’t it?” He held out the sketch, saw Nolan’s eyes dart to the familiar drawing, a muscle jumped at the side of the Irishman’s eye.
“N—No. I don’t know who you are talking about.”
“The children were frightened after the row between you and O’Malley. Sibby Rose and Robert and little Darragh. Scrap, the children call him. Scrap has grown a fair bit since you left to look for work. And Sibby Rose…she is going to be a beauty like your wife.”
Nolan paled even further, the branch of candles in his hand shaking. Jesus, God don’t let one of those candles fall.
“That red ribbon Sibby Rose loves? Did you see it in her hair?”
Had the man been sane enough to see anything?
“My wife gave that to your little girl. We came across Sibby and Scrap on Bond Street when we were shopping one day. He’d climbed too high and couldn’t get down. Sibby told us that when you came home you had promised to bring her a ribbon.”
Nolan’s face contorted with pain.
“I hope one day I can bring my daughter a ribbon, too,” Lucien said, suddenly knowing how desperately that was true. “You see, I just found out that I am going to be a father. Scares the hell out of me, to be honest. But I know I would do anything to protect my wife and babe. Even if it meant burning the world down…But then my child would have to live in the wreckage.”
“They’ve been living in hell already! Now Moira and the babes will never have to worry again with the coin the swells gave us.” The resolve in the man’s face made sweat dampenLucien’s palms. He held Nolan’s gaze, not daring to shift to Grace or the candles, as if by will alone he could stay that shaking hand.
