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“I’m going in,” Ace said. “Coachman, please wait for us—I promise I will make your pay for today worthwhile.”
The men in the first coach did not go into the main building of Rosterbrook, but skirted around to the back and walked about a quarter mile. Trying to hide themselves in overgrown bushes, Ace and his men trailed after them. The Earl and Shiemour entered an old, rundown coach house.
“Lads, hide yourselves out here, under the open windows, and if you hear me call for help, come in after me,” Ace said.
* * *
By the time Ace made his way to the second floor, there was a handful of people in what seemed to be the main room. The Earl and Shiemour were there. So was Baron Roster. There were two unshaven, ill-dressed thugs also. They were just inside the door to the main room. Ace assumed these were some of Shiemour’s henchmen, standing guard.
The door to the room opened outward. Ace quietly slipped behind the open door, where he could watch and listen, unseen.
He heard Baron Roster say to Shiemour, “What’s the Earl doing here? You work for me!”
“I work for the fellow that pays me better,” Shiemour replied with a cynical smile. “It just so happens that the Earl’s made a higher bid for my services.”
Worthington said, “That’s assuming you’re telling me the truth, Shiemour, and the Duke of Clover and his daughter are actually being held prisoners here. Bring them out. I want to see them in the flesh.”
No one moved in response to the Earl’s command. “I understand,” the Earl said. “Perhaps you need some persuading.”
Ace leaned closer to the crack between the door and door frame, so he could see better.
The Earl had pulled a shiny Sea Service pistol from inside his coat. He brandished it at Baron Roster. “Come on, Roster, do as you’re told. Or you’ll get a mouthful of gunpowder rammed down your throat.”
Reluctantly, the Baron signaled to the two henchmen to go and get the prisoners. “It will be a nice reunion for father and daughter,” chuckled Roster, aiming to cover his fear with confident bluster. “Neither one has been told that the other one is also being held here.”
His Grace the Duke of Clover was led in from one side of a back hallway. Lady Josephine was brought in from the opposite side of the building.
Each was startled to see the other one there. “Papa!” Lady Josephine exclaimed, and she tried to run to him. But the man guarding her seized her by the arm and kept her where she was—alongside him and the Earl. The other guard remained standing across from them, near the Duke and his nephew.
“I’ll make you a deal,” the Earl said to the Baron. “You keep His Grace and do what you will with him. I’ll take the girl. We’ll call it even and part as friends. I get a bride and her dowry; you get a lofty title, once you dispose of the Duke.”
“Do you think me a fool?” the Baron asked haughtily. “For I will get the title of Duke, whether now or later, once the old man dies. I need not take any risks over that. Whereas you would get Lady Josephine’s marriage settlement, but only if you marry her, that is! I’m inclined to prevent a wedding, one way or another.”
The Earl suddenly swung to his right and grabbed Lady Josephine away from the guard. Holding her with one arm, he still had his pistol aimed at the Baron. “Do what you will, you idiot,” said the Earl.
At the sight of Josie at this evil man’s mercy, Ace could no longer stand it. He burst from behind the door and into the room, heedless of the Earl’s firearm.
The Earl started edging toward the door, with Lady Josephine in front of him—a hostage, a human shield. Josie looked at Ace, and all her love for him, all her trust in his ability to save her, could be seen in her eyes. That look was all Ace needed to spur him onward.
It felt to Ace like events were happening one by one, in slow motion, but in reality, a lot happened at one time. Ace fought off Shiemour and the two guards first. They each put up a fight—they were used to survival on the streets. But Ace, his face looking like that of a madman, took all three of them on.
An upper cut to one man’s chin, and a head blow to the other, knocked out both guards and left them lying prone on the floor. At the same time, Ace extended his foot and gave Shiemour a swift kick below the belt.This is no boxing ring,Ace thought.There are no rules here.Shiemour fell down on his knees, howling in pain and clutching at his wounded private parts.
Then, as fierce and unthinking as a rabid dog, Ace turned to the Earl and tried to pull Lady Josephine from his grasp.Let him shoot me if he wishes,Ace thought.I have to prevent him from taking Josie out that door.
Apparently, he was not the only one in the room with such thoughts. Baron Roster’s face showed his desperation too. Clearly he would lose everything if the Earl succeeded: his chance to be a wealthy, respected nobleman, a role to which he had felt entitled—but of which he had been deprived—his entire life; the love of Lady Emmeline, who would only marry a duke with a large fortune; and perhaps even his very freedom, for if the Earl got away with the girl, he would no doubt see Lord Alfred arrested for attempted murder.
All this showed on the Baron’s face, as he lunged toward the Earl. He got between Ace and the Earl and seized Josephine by the neck. Just then, a shot rang out. The Earl had shot Lord Alfred at point blank range, straight through the chest.
Shiemour watched all this, and wondered if he would even get paid now, whatever the outcome. He doubted the Earl would feel indebted to him for the part he had played. So Shiemour, too, lunged at Worthington, trying to take the girl. She was the only one in the room with negotiation value.
Quick as a flash, the Earl—who had been well-trained in the use of firearms while serving in the Royal Navy—switched the arm holding Lady Josephine, and pulled a second, matching Sea Service pistol from under the other side of his coat. He aimed it at Shiemour.
But Ace was used to watching the stance of his boxing opponents and looking for a weakness. He saw that, in the moment that the Earl switched his hold over Josie to his other hand, he was off balance, and his grip on her was tenuous.
He seized the moment and punched the Earl in the nose. The Earl lost his balance, and he dropped his pistols to the floor. Ace grabbed the still-loaded one and aimed the Earl’s own pistol at him. “Now get up slowly, and move away from Lady Josephine,” he said to the Earl.
From the corner of his eye, Ace spotted the Duke of Clover. Although he was no longer guarded, he was on his knees, clutching at his chest and gasping for breath. His face was rapidly turning blue.He’s having an apoplectic fit or attack of some sort,Ace reasoned, as he saw the kindly old nobleman slump to the floor.
