Page 100 of The Miracle of Love
More of Velda’s mischief? Or was it something more serious? An abduction attempt by those foreign agents even though the crown had been returned and the treaty signed? Perhaps not all their agents had received the word.
When Grace and her companion turned to him with a smile and a wave, he breathed a sigh of relief for he recognized the lady. But that relief was short-lived when he saw a man standing across the street.
Something about him did not feel right.
Deklan crossed the street for a closer look at him.
The man’s attention was fixed on Grace and her companion as he withdrew a pistol hidden within the folds of his cloak. Deklan was on him before he could take proper aim. In the struggle, the villain managed to get off a shot that ricocheted off a lamp post and must have nicked the ear of one of the carriage horses near where Grace and her companion stood. The horse reared in fright, upsetting the rest of the team of matched bays and causing the carriage to tip precipitously.
“Grace!” he shouted, trying to issue a warning over the clatter of a wildly rocking carriage and the shrieking neighs of bucking and kicking horses.
She was already acting on her own, quick to grab her companion and pull her away from the tottering carriage and the frightened horse’s flailing hooves. In pulling the old lady out of danger, both of them fell backward, the woman landing safely atop Grace because Grace had purposely shifted her body to take the brunt of the fall.
He hastily subdued this man, too, and turned him over to the hotel’s footmen. Once he was securely in custody, Deklan ran to Grace’s side. “Love, are you hurt?”
“Winded, that’s all.” She was almost hidden beneath the elderly Duchess of Dunfell who was sprawled atop her.
He helped the duchess to her feet.
“Who fired that pistol?” Grace asked, now able to get up on her own.
“I don’t know the man’s identity yet.” But he surmised it was one of William Penny’s scullery mates, the pair of them paid to carry out Genevieve’s so-called pranks. He would deal with this dolt later.
He now turned with concern to the elderly duchess. “Your Grace, are you hurt?”
“No, Mr. Quinton. The lovely lass saved my life.”
“Hardly,” Grace said, slowly struggling to her feet and brushing dirt off her now stained gown.
“Do not contradict a duchess, my dear,” Her Grace said. “You were very brave. I am not a small woman and might have squashed you. But you saved me from getting run over, and at the very least, breaking several bones. I hope I did not crush you.”
The duchess’s own footmen, having finally subdued the horses, now hurried forward to assist her.
She shooed them away. “Utterly useless. Go question whoever fired that shot.”
“But Your Grace–”
“Question him and do not let him escape. I am in good hands.” She turned to Deklan. “You must recognize those two since they are Crown agents and not really footmen. I do wish they would assign you to me again. That culprit would never have gotten this close if you were guarding me.”
“Perhaps in the future.”
“No, Wooton relies on you for the truly dangerous assignments. Are you on duty now?”
“I was. It resolved only this morning. A few loose ends to tie up now, nothing more.”
“I assume those loose ends involve Miss Montford. Yes, I know exactly who you are, my dear. I knew it before that unpleasant Lady Somerset shouted it out to one and all.”
Grace groaned.
“Never you mind. I can guess most of what Wooton called upon your Mr. Quinton to do. I warned King Stanislaus he ought to have better security for his crown jewels. Put his entire kingdom at risk because of a stolen crown. Oh, he wrote to me crying about it.”
Deklan grinned. “He ought to engage you as his security advisor.”
“Nonsense, I am an old lady. What do I know? Well, it is good to see you again, Mr. Quinton. You and I need to have a little talk.”
“With pleasure, Your Grace. But I am leaving Brighton first thing tomorrow. I expect to be back in another month.”
“Taking your pretty lady friend?”
