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Yes, that would probably do it.
How convenient that I was a helpless little damsel in distress who didn’t need to be searched by her captors. Very convenient indeed.
My eyes slid to Brewer, who had stepped towards the window to watch his master depart. Hoof beats, dampened by the snow, sounded outside. Slowly, they faded into the distance, and still he stood at the window, his back to me.
How did the old saying go? You don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.
I rose.
‘Brewer?’
He turned - just in time to come face-to-face with the muzzle of my revolver. The click of the hammer being pulled back echoed loudly in the little room.
I smiled at the wide-eyed man over the length of gleaming metal. ‘I’d like to leave now. Would you be a kind gentleman and help me tie my shoelaces, helpless little damsel that I am?’
Damsel Under Stress
For a moment, the man just stared into the muzzle of the gun. His mouth dropped open.
‘You…how…I don’t…’
‘It’s not that difficult to understand,’ I told him. ‘First, you in charge. Girl pulls out gun. Girl points gun at you. You in charge no more. End of story. Well, of yours, anyway.’
‘I…how…you…’
Dear me. This fellow was really slow. When would he start begging for his life, or would I have to do that for him?
‘I wonder, should I kill you?’ I mused. ‘I must admit, I really feel like it. You’re a bastard who works for a bastard. You helped kidnap me and were probably planning to be involved in some finger-cutting later. So…why not?’
‘I…no! I, um…well…’
‘On the other hand - people might hear a shot. The wrong kind of people.’ I pondered the conundrum for a moment, then brightened. ‘Ah! I’ll know what I’ll do.’
‘What?’ he asked, wide-eyed.
‘This.’
Swift as a fiery ifrit, I raised my gun and brought down the butt against his temple, hard.
‘Oouf!’
‘Nighty-night, soldier boy.’
Satisfied, I gazed down at the crumpled form on the floor. Now here was a good day’s work if ever I saw one. But I wasn’t finished yet. Not by any means.
I had no illusions. Mr Ambrose had no idea where I was. He could not come to rescue me from this hellhole. However, that didn’t particularly bother me. Because that left the much more interesting option of rescuing myself.
Your plans are done, Dalgliesh! Watch out, here I come!
Bending down, I grabbed the fallen fake footman by the scruff of the neck and dragged him away from the window, so no one would catch sight of him from outside. Who knew, there might be other guards out there.
Pressing myself against the wall, I slowly approached the window, until I could peek out between the hide covering and the frame. Nothi
ng. Not a soul in sight. No noise reached my ears, except for the occasional creak of a tree under the growing burden of snow.
Leaving only one man to guard the helpless damsel? Could any man truly be this stupid?
Yes, Lilly. They all could.
