He was not entirely certain when the constables would arrive. It occurred to him only now that they had still to send word to the local constabulary. The Bow Street runners and the authorities in London had been alerted to the situation, but nobody this far south yet knew. He would have to send one of the footmen back out into the weather, but that was a logistical concern for later. First, he had to tie this man up, and then ensure Clara was unharmed.
“I would not be quite so hasty,” a deep voice sounded from behind him.
He spun, and to his horror, he saw Arabella in the grip of a tall man, a man who towered over even Julian himself. He held her by the hair with one hand and a knife to her throat with the other.
“You will let my master go now,” the man said. “And then, perhaps your cousin will not come to any harm.”
“Let her go.” Julian’s voice had dropped to something cool and low. “Let her go. You do not know what you are doing.”
“I know perfectly well what I am doing. And if you imagine your friends are coming to save you, you ought to think again. The one you left in the hallway to free your wife and child? Unconscious. Locked in the dressing room. The other two—please, if you mean to bring amateurs to such an affair, you must expect rather poor outcomes. You ought to teach them never to walk into a room without first ensuring they can walk back out of it. Though it was kind of you to bring the chatelaine up. It savedme the trouble of going down for it myself. Now, I am afraid it is just you.”
“Oh, how the tides have turned,” Sebastian said with a small laugh. “Be a dear and let go of me.”
“No,” Julian said, tightening his grip. “He will not get away with this.”
“Oh, very well. Do not let me go. It rather suits me better in the end. After all, if Arabella is found to have met her unfortunate end here under tragic circumstances, then I need not concern myself with annulments or divorces or any of that tedium. Alexander will simply be mine by rights. A poor half-orphan but mine by right.”
Julian’s eyes flicked between Sebastian and Arabella.
“You have always been a snake,” Arabella spat. “And his name is not Alexander. You did not even like your father. Why on earth would you name your son after him? His name is Horatio.”
“Named after a father who could not even look after himself long enough to see you safely into adulthood. A truly inspired choice.”
Julian wanted to drive his fist into the man’s smart mouth, but he controlled himself.
“Do not give in to him,” Arabella called. “He cannot have Horatio. He cannot get away with this.”
“Shut your mouth,” the man said and pulled tight on her hair, drawing a yelp from her.
Rage ran through Julian. He calculated quickly. Nathaniel was out of action, as were James and Gideon apparently, but that meant two of his friends and at least four of the footmen were still moving through the house searching for Clara and the baby. They would come eventually, but he had no way to know when. He had heard footsteps on the third floor earlier which meant someone was up there searching, but this was an enormous house. He could not count on a swift discovery.
He hoped, fiercely, that Clara was safe. Was she still in the room? Hadn’t this man said Nathaniel was in the dressing room? Which dressing room?
His mind raced.
“You will not get away with any of this,” he said. “Surely you must know that. Even if you cut Arabella’s throat and pretend it is the work of highway robbers, I am a witness. Are you going to do away with me, too? And the three friends of mine you’ve already bested? All of us are peers, and none of us is below the rank of earl. Are you truly going to attempt to murder all of us and trust that the Crown will not come after you?”
“I do not need to have all of you killed,” Sebastian said. “Only the wench. The rest of you may stay tied up nicely and tell whatever tale you like. I will take my child back to Italy, and the authorities will not send me back—not when I tell them of the vile treatment I have received here. To have my child stolenfrom me. My poor wife murdered by highwaymen. I shall have all their sympathy.” He dipped his head to the side. “Besides, I will have protection in the form of your lovely wife. Clara, is it?”
Julian’s head pounded.Clara…
“I will come after you. You know that I will. I shall hunt you to the very end of the earth if I must. You will not harm my wife.”
“But you will not. If you follow us, I cannot guarantee what will happen. I shall take her as a guest of mine for a time. Until your nerves have calmed somewhat. Or perhaps longer.”
Julian could not help himself. His fist flew through the air before he could rein it in and connected squarely with Sebastian’s nose. The man let out a yelp and clapped both hands over his face.
“Sir!” his henchman called and stepped forward.
Arabella chose that exact moment to make her move. Julian caught it from the corner of his eye. She raised her left foot and hooked it behind her captor’s ankle just as he attempted to take his next step, and he pitched forward, crashing to the floor, the knife skittering from his hand.
“Heath!” Sebastian cried out as his servant lost his grip on Arabella.
She lunged for it just as the brute was scrambling back to his knees.
“Quickly! Throw me the knife,” Julian called.
Arabella reached for it just as Heath got to one knee.
