Page 97 of My Kind of Scoundel
Eleanor gasped when Franklin firmed his grip. He snarled at her like a blood-thirsty beast, anger bloating his cheeks. “You should have stayed at home, Miss Darrow.”
Unable to wait or risk losing her, Theo stepped out from behind the tall cupboard and met Franklin’s gaze. “Release her,” he muttered.
Recognition dawned in Franklin’s eyes, but he did not raise his hands and surrender. “I’ll not let that bastard escape unpunished.” Fury built inside him, his shoulders rising, his chest expanding. A growl escaped him as he turned on his heel and charged at Wrotham.
Chaos erupted.
Daventry burst in through the front door.
Theo raced to Eleanor and pulled her into his arms.
Aaron charged to Daventry’s side while Franklin punched Wrotham to the floor and smacked his head repeatedly on the wooden boards.
Another fight ensued when Aaron dragged Franklin away. One punch from Aaron’s fist left the silversmith unconscious.
For lengthy seconds, no one moved, only breathed.
“Cole, fetch a doctor for Lord Wrotham,” Daventry saidto his agent. “Hurry. And fetch Harper fromThe Morning Post. He lives at 7 Fleet Street, a minute’s walk from here. I’ll not have Wrotham worm his way out of this.”
“I’ll fetch Harper,” Aramis said.
While Theo consoled Eleanor, Aaron checked Wrotham’s pulse. Blood circled his head in a crimson halo. His lip was cut, his eye bruised.
“Make sure Harper knows he happened to be walking by.” Daventry crouched, opened the leather valise and examined the metal plates. “There are five here, all for different banks. One for the Bristol Bank, another for Attwood and Spooner.”
“How much did you hear?” Theo asked.
“Enough to make a statement saying Wrotham was blackmailing the silversmith to commit bank fraud. Franklin will hang, of course. He was hardly an innocent party.”
“Mr Franklin hurt his sister,” Eleanor said, wrapping her arms around Theo’s waist. “I believe he hit her with a blunt object. She will need a doctor, too. I doubt her brother sent for one.”
When the doctor arrived, Daventry’s agent went to find a constable and summon the Home Secretary. The journalist fromThe Morning Postarrived, half-dressed and breathless. He looked over the scene, spoke to Daventry and left.
It was six in the morning when they left the premises. Franklin was arrested, and his sister taken to the infirmary. Wrotham was stretchered to the doctor’s home, though it was doubtful he would make a recovery. They’d all given their statements and were warned by the Home Secretary to keep this sorry business to themselves.
Theo faced Eleanor, draping his coat around her shoulders. “If you’ve no objection, I shall remain here with you.”He stroked her cheek, marvelling at the softness of her skin. “I suspect we’ll both sleep past noon.”
He could spend his life with her in bed.
She fell into his arms and rested her head against his chest. “I don’t care what happens as long as I’m with you.”
They stood on the pavement, holding each other, waiting for Daventry to confirm they were free to leave. Once they’d rested, he would remind her of his desire to marry.
Daventry came to speak to them. “We’re heading to the Plume of Feathers in Edgware.” He gestured to Theo’s brothers, who were gathered on the pavement, deep in conversation. “I assured the Home Secretary we would take Mrs Dunwoody into custody before she reaches Birmingham with the fraudulent plates. Your brothers are keen to join me.”
Theo straightened, the fire of vengeance burning in his veins. “After all the despicable things that woman said, I’ll relish seeing her squirm.” He turned to Eleanor and lowered his voice. “Will you come, too?”
She looked at his brothers before cupping his cheek. “I’ll wait for you here. I think it’s something you need to do as a family.”
“You’re part of that family now.”
She swallowed hard, evidently moved by his statement. “Something you need to do as brothers. As you had the locks changed, I presume you have a key to the shop.”
He nodded. “Get some rest. I’ll return shortly.”
Theo escorted her into the house, kissing her tenderly before joining his brothers in the carriage. They followed Daventry to Edgware, stopping at the inn for a description of the matron’s coach before parking a mile from the Feathers and lying in wait.
“Daventry doubts Wrotham will survive his head injury,” Aramis said. “That means our dear brother Aaron is heir to an earldom.”
