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“Even a broken clock...” she retorted, but he read the worry in her eyes.
“I shall be fine. It’s a scratch.”
“It’s not a scratch,” she said. “I’ve seen scratches and I’ve seen knife wounds and I’ve seen what comes of both of them and you need care.” She collected both their bags and moved to pass him, heading for the far side of the room. “You need a surgeon,” she repeated to herself more than to him, “and we need to get as far from this place as possible.”
He snatched his bag from her grip. He would be dead before he let her carry his bag. “Or what?”
“Or Danny will regain consciousness and join us once more,” she said, nodding in the direction of the already once-splintered door.
“Danny,” he repeated, not liking the thread of anger that coursed through him. “You know him.”
She didn’t reply, moving with speed to the painting he’d noticed when he entered. What had she called them? The shield-maidens. She gripped the frame and pulled the painting off the wall.
No. Not off the wall.
She pulled it open, revealing another door.
“Another passageway,” he said, meeting her gaze. “It took me twenty minutes to find the last one.”
Her brows rose at the words as she pulled the chain from her bodice, unscrewing the brass pendant even asshe extracted a snuffbox from her skirts. “I’m impressed. That one was far more difficult than this.”
He watched her carefully as she selected an item from the box and affixed it to the cylinder. She’d made a skeleton key. Brilliant. “Do you have passageways in every inn in Britain?”
“I’m sorry, Duke,” she said, one half of her pretty mouth lifting in a smile that didn’t quite meet her eyes. “I don’t have time to play with your puzzle box right now.”
He let her have the jest. Let her keep her secrets.
She was magnificent.
“It lets out in the stables,” she whispered. “If we’re lucky, we’ll be out before they wake.”
Her carriage was already hitched when they got to the stables, Mary standing beside it. She nodded her thanks to the woman. “Send word to Lucia. We need one of the boys to make a delivery. And tell her I need her. She’ll know where to find me.”
The young woman nodded, sending a nervous look at Clayborn. “Did Billy—”
“Billy knifed a duke, and is lucky to be alive,” Adelaide said.
“And if I wish for him to be alive somewhere other than here?”
“Then send him along with the other. His cargo is paid, and you’ll never see him again. We must go—this place isn’t safe,” she said as she opened the door and tossed her bag into the vehicle, indicating that he should enter. “Get in, Duke. We don’t have time for dallying.”
Henry shook his head. “I’m riding up top, with you.”
“No. You need to lie flat.”
“And you need someone to protect you.”
“And you will do that how, bleed upon them?”
He turned from her and made to climb up, embarrassed by his weakness. By the way his muscles seemed no longer under his control. When he finally got there, she leaned over him, gazing deep into his eyes, her ownpools of brown velvet, full of concern. “We’ve got to get you somewhere safe.”
“He knew you. Danny.”
She didn’t reply, pulling a carriage blanket over him.
He grabbed her hand. Held it firmly. “He knew you. He knows your father.”
She looked to him for a long moment. “Everyone knows my father.”
