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She did not take even a moment to form a reply. Instead, she stomped her foot, crushing her heel into Lady Blackwell’s toes while throwing her shoulder into her captor’s midsection at the same time. The movement shot screaming pain through her injured leg, but there was no help for it.
Lady Lydia grunted and the sharp retort of the gunshot echoed through the room. The bullet had flung wide of Caroline’s body and shattered the window that led out to the road. Caroline flung herself atop her opponent. Although the shot was spent, they grappled for the gun, rolling and wrestling as they did their best, each to overpower the other. Their gowns were a hindrance, getting caught up between their legs and tripping them as they scrambled over the Oriental rug.
Lady Blackwell shrieked with rage and turned away for what Caroline had thought would be just long enough to gain the upper hand. Rather than make her move, Caroline had been pierced with an unbearable burning in her calf. She screamed. Her vision blackened and her scream echoed through the house. No one was coming, she reminded herself. With great effort she forced her mind back into consciousness. Lady Blackwell gripped Caroline’s wounds once more and dug her fingers between the stitches, ripping attempting to rip the wound open. Again, Caroline screamed. She realized that her skirt must have risen up and exposed the injury. That was what had drawn her opponent’s expression. Lady Blackwell had taken advantage of the gunshot wound and used Caroline’s agony to position herself above her prey.
Lady Blackwell was sitting with one knee at either side of Caroline’s waist. Her hand was bleeding profusely, but a moment later, Caroline was looking down the barrel of the small gun. She completely forgot about her bloody leg as she felt a heat rush over her skin. This was the end. She had never known it with such certainty. Even when she had been tied up at the docks and told that she would be killed she had not felt this impending sense of dread. Lady Blackwell brought her second hand to join the other in its grip of the weapon. She steadied herself and took aim.
The gun clicked empty at the same moment that Lady Lydia was pulled without mercy from her perch above Miss Caroline.
Caroline’s eyes had been closed tight against the impact that never came.
She opened her eyes and released a shaky breath just in time to see the duke quite literally throw Lady Blackwell at the wall of men who were standing in the doorframe. They subdued the female and dragged her from the room.
Caroline’s wide, frightened eyes settled upon the duke who stood above where she lay sprawled on the floor. He had come for her, she realized. He had saved her. She raised her arms to reach for him when she felt another body land across her own and drive the air from her lungs.
A mess of curly hair covered her face and the sound of sobbing came from beneath the unruly pile.
“Oh, my lady,” the trembling voice cried. “I thought I might never see you again.”
“Marilee!” Caroline squealed. She grasped at the shoulders that were crushing her and pushed the form away enough to look into the face of her beloved maid. “Oh Lud, Marilee,” she gasped, “I was so worried.”
Marilee hugged her mistress anew and then pulled back to begin checking that Miss Caroline was unharmed. “Oh Lud,” she cried out as she realized Caroline’s leg was sticky with blood.
“I’m fine,” Caroline protested. Caroline cupped the face of her dear friend and pleaded with her eyes for the truth. “They told me that you had been beaten to within an inch of your life,” Caroline revealed. “How is it that you are here and seeming well?”
Marilee’s eyes darted toward a man who stood upon shifting feet in the doorway beside Caroline’s father. Her expression was apologetic as if she had not wished the man to hear such details about her demise. The gesture told Caroline that Marilee had indeed suffered greatly.
A violent scream sounded from the hall where Lady Blackwell was still being made to be restrained.
“My darling friend,” Caroline sat upright and brushed a loving hand over Marilee’s hair. “I wish I could have protected you.”
“Don’t be foolish,” Marilee replied. “It was my honor to protect you.” She wrapped her arms around Caroline’s shoulders. “You are my dearest friend,” the maid whispered into her ear, “I would have died before I betrayed you.” Caroline shook her head against such a thought but Marilee continued on, no longer keeping her voice for only their ears. “As soon as your father recognized me in Lady Blackwell’s house, I knew that I was saved.”
Caroline glanced up from Marilee’s shoulder and into her father’s loving gaze. She softened her expression, the full value of her gratitude laid bare. The baron smiled in return and nodded.
“Your duke burst in with such force I thought that for certain it was to be my end,” Marilee explained. “But when he said that he was looking for the Lady, one of the other maids said that she had gone to pay her respects to the Duchess of Manchester. I lost my mind,” she admitted. “I knew that Lady Blackwell was a demon and to think that you had been freed…only to…” She shook her head. “She could only wish you harm.”
Caroline did not comment upon the fact that Marilee had referred to Lord Robert as her duke but she allowed the words to blossom in her heart. A small smile began to grow on her lips even though she realized that she was exhausted and her calf was bleeding.
“You don’t have any proof!” Lady Blackwell shrieked from the hall. “Unhand me! She’s the one that you want. She tried to poison the duke! Oh Robert, you must believe me.”
Caroline huffed with annoyance at the implication. The questioning looks with which she had been met faded away when it became clear from their expressions that neither she nor the duke would support such a claim.
“We do have proof,” Marilee muttered. Her eyes darted between Miss Caroline and Lord Robert.
“Our word may not be enough,” Caroline breathed with resignation. Lord Edward and Lady Blackwell may still walk free. Their reputations may be tarnished and their fortunes withdrawn, but it was rare that any of their standing might be charged in full.
“Lady Blackwell has Bella,” Marilee whispered. “Lord Bennington,” meaning Lord Edward, “gifted her the mare as an early wedding present.” Caroline noted that Lord Robert did not even flinch at the implication. “He did not seem to have any knowledge that the mare was tied to our abduction.”
Caroline could hardly believe her ears. “Oh,” she breathed. Her prized horse was still alive, still nearby. She had expected the valued stead to have been sold or shipped to some far-off land. She recalled that the thugs had done their best to smuggle off what items could have been identified as belonging to the late duke. The horse had been hers and hers alone. There would have been no record or word that he possessed such a fine piece of horseflesh. The bill of sale had been in Caroline’s name.
The animal amounted to prime evidence of property transfer from the act of robbery. Even if Lord Edward attempted to say that he had purchased the beast without information of its ownership history it would only add to the connections in Caroline’s own story. There were too many coincidences for Lord Edward and Lady Blackwell to explain away. With Caroline placed in one home and both Bella and Marilee in the other it would amount to the final nails in the otherwise sealed coffin.
“Take her to the tower and throw her in with the others,” the baron declared with a note of authority that Caroline had not heard in ages. The tower of London was where they kept the most hardened of criminals. Was that truly where they were taking her? Caroline wondered, but she could not help but breathe a sigh of relief that the guard had taken the criminals to a secure lockup. If she never saw any of them again, she would be glad. With Bella as proof of their wrongdoing, this would be no easy matter for the criminals to wheedle out of now.
“I will end you!” Lady Lydia’s voice came one last time before the sound of the front door closed in the distance. She must have realized that she was well and truly caught. Her shouts of profanity could be heard even from the street. As the carriage rolled away, Lady Lydia’s cries carried off into the distance.
It was only then that Caroline realized that she was still sprawled out on the floor with Marilee flung out beside her and her calf had dripped blood on the carpet. The maid scrambled to her feet and offered Miss Caroline a hand. Caroline reached up to accept the aid, but the duke had already bent down and picked her up from beneath her arms and set her quite firmly upon her own two feet.
