Page 146 of A Portrait of Love

“Yes?”

“If we both rush him—”

“You can’t even walk,” Simon hissed. His eyes darted around the empty room, looking for something to use as a weapon. There was nothing—not so much as a stick of furniture.

His gaze settled on the new section of wooden doorcase somebody must have just installed.

The door was visible from the window, so it would be a risk. But what other hope did he have?

“Wyndham—can you press on this?”

His brother’s shaky hand rose and closed around the bloody neckcloth.

“Good, keep it there.”

Wyndham blinked his hazy eyes. “What—”

“Shhh, you’ll see.” Simon crawled across the floor, biting his lip bloody at the pain in his knees. Once he reached the door, he dug his fingers beneath the door frame.

“You have three minutes!” Raymond shouted

Simon got a good grip and then yelled while he pulled, hoping to muffle any noise.

“Why don’t you come in here and we can discuss the matter like gentlemen?” Simon shouted, wrenching with all his strength. The frame didn’t even budge.

“Goddammit,” he hissed.

“Why would I risk my neck? You must think I’m a fool,” Raymond called back.

“Kick it,” Wyndham wheezed.

Simon nodded and stood.

“At least come to the window and quit hiding like a coward,” he yelled, kicking at the same time.

The wood splintered with a loud crack and pulled away from the wall.

“Two minutes!” Raymond sounded almost hysterical and Simon saw something burning outside the window.

“That wasn’t a minute, Raymond. Do you need to borrow my watch?” Again he kicked and this time a two-foot piece broke away.

“This is the last time you’ll mock me, Simon!” Raymond yelled in an ominous tone, black smoke billowing past the shattered glass.

Simon grabbed the wood and yanked it off the wall.

“Take my boot—throw it first to distract him,” Wyndham gasped.

Simon saw that his brother had toed off his boot while he’d been kicking the doorframe.

He grabbed the boot and took one last look at his brother.

Wyndham was breathing in rough gasps through his mouth and his face was taut with pain. “Go.”

Simon nodded, grabbed the boot, and threw it at the window with all his might.

Chapter Forty-One

How far past the mile marker did the farmer say it was?” Honey asked.