Page 91 of Saved By the Belle

“Run!” came the familiar voice of Hew. And then she was jerked upward like a rag doll and spun around so that the world turned on its axis. Except when she was able to make some sense of it, Hew was before her.

“Let her go,” he yelled, still racing toward her.

“You want ‘er? Come and get ‘er!”

Pennywhistle’s man thrust her aside, and Belle saw the flash of metal as the man pulled a knife out of his pocket. She heard the cock of a hammer and gasped. That was no knife but a pistol. She had to warn Hew, but there was no time. Head spinning and legs wobbly, she lurched forward, grabbed for the pistol and wrenched the man’s hand upward. The shot went wild, the sound exploding in the park and startling sleeping birds from their perches.

She was knocked aside and then Hew and the abductor were locked in combat against the side of the bridge. Belle crawled away, grasped the bridge’s thick stone railing, and limped toward her father.

Stupid man. Of course, he hadn’t listened. He was coming across the bridge for her. She wanted to smack him. Instead, she fell into his arms and allowed him to haul her away from the water and the bridge, off the path and into the shadow of the trees.

“Daddy,” she said, feeling the wetness on her cheeks as the tears ran down her face. She hadn’t called him Daddy for years, but it seemed the most natural thing in the world at the moment. “You’re safe. Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine. You, Belle? You fell hard.”

“Just out of breath.” She grasped him and hugged him tightly. Then she turned back to the bridge. She couldn’t see it through the foliage. “Hew...” She tried to rise, but her father pulled her back down.

“Stay put. He can focus on the fight if he doesn’t have to worry about you.”

The sounds of men fighting echoed through the park and then she heard the splash of water and a muttered curse. Belle looked up at her father whose own face mirrored what she assumed was her frightened expression. “Was that Hew or...?”

Heavy footsteps approached, and Belle fumbled on the ground, reaching for whatever she might use as a weapon. Her hand closed on a stick, and she climbed to her feet, crouching low and brandishing the makeshift bludgeon.

Leaves crunched underfoot, a branch broke, and then she saw the shape of a man step toward them. She swung the stick, stopping short just as Hew’s face came into view.

“That’s not the welcome I’d hoped for,” he said.

With a cry, Belle slammed into his arms.

THE HOURS BLURRED TOGETHER as Hew and Will dealt with the captured abductors, local magistrates, and several government ministers. Finally, as the sun rose, Hew left Will to deal with the last details and returned to Mivart’s. He’d arranged a room for Belle and her father beforehand and had sent them to bed after Mr. Howard gave his statement. Hew retrieved his key from the front desk and started up the stairs to his room, wondering how badly the footmen and maids would curse him if he requested hot water and a bath this early—

“Mr. Arundel.”

Hew turned and started at seeing Mr. Howard coming forward out of the salon area. “Mr. Howard. I thought you’d be in bed.”

“I tried to sleep and couldn’t. Belle is sleeping. I think she fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. I checked on her before I came down.”

“If there was something you needed, you could have rung for a maid.”

Howard shook his head. “I was waiting for you.”

Hew nodded, not really surprised. He gestured to the empty salon and led Howard to two armchairs near the hearth. “I had hoped to speak with you as well,” he said after they were seated. “But I thought you must be exhausted after your ordeal.”

Howard waved a hand. “I sat in a room for two days. I had little to do but sleep and think.”

“I’ll tell you honestly, sir. Mr. Galloway and I feared you were dead.”

“I heard them discuss killing me, but in the end, they wanted me for the exchange.”

“I’d be interested to hear what else you heard discussed. I want to tie your capture back to Pennywhistle and make sure he pays.”

“I heard quite a lot about Pennywhistle, but I don’t want to talk about him at present. What I want to discuss is why my daughter was walking across that bridge, all alone, toward three dangerous men.” His voice, usually so quiet and meek, trembled with rage.

Hew took a breath. “I didn’t want her to go. We both tried to talk her out of it.”

“And yet, there she was.”

“Sir, I think you know her better than anyone. There was no keeping her here. She’d made up her mind and devised a plan which, frankly, was better than what we had sketched out. Still, I take full responsibility for her being there, and I understand your anger. You must have been terrified.”

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