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“Whoever replaced the measurements in my desk drawer was sloppy. One fell to the floor before the drawer closed,” said Mrs. Wark.

“Perhaps before you kill her you should give Mrs. Parkem to Harold,” said Douglas cheerfully. “He was the reason that we discovered we were being investigated.”

One final step and Lavinia was on Mrs. Wark. As fast as she could, she twisted the woman’s arm behind her back as she used to do to her brother when they fought as children and jabbed the cloak pin against the base of her neck, right at the vulnerable point of her spine.

“I’m no one’s to give,” Lavinia hissed. “Drop your weapons and kick them away.”

“Daniel!” Mrs. Wark cried out.

“What is—” Douglas stopped abruptly.

“Hello,” said Lavinia. “I thought I would join you.”

Mrs. Wark was scared. Lavinia could feel it in the tremble of her body and the stink of sweat about her.

“Mrs. Parkem, be reasonable,” said Douglas with his hands spread, his confident bluster gone.

“Drop them.” She pushed the thick but sharp point of the pin harder against Mrs. Wark’s neck, pulling a cry from the woman’s lips. Douglas threw his revolver away.

“And what of yours?” she asked Mrs. Wark.

“In my left pocket,” the woman ground out.

“Take it out and drop it immediately,” she said.

Mrs. Wark hesitated.

“I imagine if I stab you right here you won’t fare very well,” said Lavinia.

“You’ll be lucky if you can walk,” said Andrew. “Or you might just die. My grasp of anatomy has never been the best.”

“A trait we share, but I suspect you’re right,” said Lavinia.

This time the lady pulled out the weapon and immediately threw it away.

“Mrs. Parkem, be reasonable about—”

This time Lavinia drew blood, cutting Mrs. Wark off mid-plea. Douglas lurched forward, and she stepped back, dragging Mrs. Wark along with her.

“No,” she said. “If you move again, she dies. Now lie down on the ground.”

“I beg your pardon,” said Douglas. “Do you know how much I paid my tailor for this evening suit?”

“Yes, I can probably hazard a reasonable guess. Do it now, Mr. Douglas,” she ordered.

Reluctantly, the man slowly got to his knees and lay down on the ground face-first in the dirt and dust.

Andrew had started swinging on the chain, building up momentum. In one smooth move, he arched his body up, grasping the links with his legs and slipping his bound hands off the hook. Then he dropped to the floor, stumbled, and wearily drew himself up. He was hurt and tired, but he was free.

Lavinia kept the pin against Mrs. Wark’s neck while Andrew retrieved a small knife on the ground. He grasped the handle in his teeth and bent to saw through the rope.

“One word from me and the prince dies,” Mrs. Wark threatened, but her words were weak.

“Only if my colleague doesn’t shoot your men first,” said Lavinia. “And the constabulary is here, surrounding the building.”

“You’re lying,” said Douglas, his voice muffled by the floor.

“I’m not.”