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“Probably.” With a grimace of pain, Pierce unclasped his wife’s cape, wrapping it around the two of them in an apparently intimate cocoon. “Are the bloodstains covered?”
“Yes, but—”
“Good. So are my unconventional attire and our evening’s spoils. Now put on your shoes.” He thrust them at her, donning his own in a few quick, jerky movements. Waiting only until she’d complied, Pierce stepped boldly out of the shadows, tugging Daphne in his wake. “Follow my lead. Walk.”
“Pierce—”
“Snow flame,” he stared down into her confused hazel eyes, a spasm of pain shuddering through him, “trust me.”
With a weak nod, she fell into step beside him, hovering a hairsbreadth from hysteria.
From halfway across the grounds, shouts emerged, and a myriad of guards began racing purposefully over the estate, their plodding steps drawing closer and closer.
“Relax,” Pierce murmured into Daphne’s hair. He paused, waiting until two sentries were nearly within view. Then, he veered Daphne around, drew her against him and covered her lips with his.
“Uh, pardon me, sir.”
Pierce raised his head, an obviously irritated expression on his face. “Yes?”
The guard shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. “I’m sorry to interrupt—”
“Indeed.” Pierce enfolded Daphne protectively against his jewel-laden coat. “A little discretion would be appropriate, if you don’t mind.”
“I understand, sir,” the other guard inserted, turning three shades of red. “But Lord Benchley’s just been robbed.”
“Robbed?” Pierce looked shocked. “Good lord. What was taken?”
“I don’t know the details yet, sir.”
“Well, I’d best go to the guest quarters at once and ensure that my belongings are safe.”
“Of course. But first—” the guard cleared his throat self-consciously, “Did you happen to see anything or anyone who looked suspicious?”
“No, I can’t say I did. Did you, darling?” Pierce asked Daphne.
From somewhere inside her, Daphne found the strength she needed. “No,” she murmured breathlessly. “But then, I was hardly looking about.” She paused for effect. “Please, my lord, I’d appreciate your returning me to the manor. If my husband should discover my absence—” Delicately, she broke off.
“Of course, sweet.” Pierce gave the guards a meaningful look. “I’m sure you’ll forgive us? I’d like to see the lady to her room before any irrevocable damage has been done.”
“By all means, sir. We apologize for detaining you.”
Backing off, the g
uards darted onward.
Ten minutes later, Pierce shoved Daphne through the gates and weaved his way onto the road beside her. By this time, he was sheet-white, and nothing could disguise the blood soaking through his coat and running down his arm.
“The sentries who were here earlier,” Pierce gazed about, blinking to clear his vision, “by now they’re all inside, swarming the grounds.” Sharply, he inhaled, leaning against a tree. “We should be—all right.”
“Stay here,” Daphne commanded.
She didn’t wait for a reply. Breaking into a run, she raced toward the grove of trees that concealed their carnage. Minutes later, she rode up to collect her rapidly fading husband.
“The carriage. You’re too—close to the manor,” Pierce rasped in protest.
“I don’t give a damn.” Daphne wrapped her arm about his waist. “The sooner you’re in that carriage, the sooner we’ll be gone. Now, help me.”
Between the two of them, Pierce made it into the front seat.
