Page 95 of The Charming Words of a Common Scoundrel
Cold fury washed through Sam. He threw the moaning man on the ground. “When is Dolan supposed to arrive?”
“This morning. My brother is keeping an eye on the place until then.”
Sam strode out of the room and into the foyer. Jack and Miller were right behind him. Miller called out to Donahue, “I am leaving. Make sure the place doesn’t fall apart while I am gone.”
“Yes, Mr. Miller. Is there anything else we can do?”
“Have a constable meet us at Masterson Mill,” Miller requested.
They exited the Den, and their horses were already waiting for them. After they all mounted, Sam looked around humbled by the friendship that surrounded him.
“Thank you,” he said quietly.
Miller nodded. “I’m with you.”
Jack said, “That deranged lord needs to be stopped.”
Sam nodded and with that they galloped off into the night. Dread filled him, but he refused to become overcome by it. He would find her.
~
Clara opened her eyes startled. Exhaustion had taken over, and she had fallen asleep. Light was coming through the window. She and Abigail had decided to wait until dawn to plan for their escape. She looked to her left and saw Abigail sleeping on an old sack. She reached over and shook her awake. Abigail sat up, startled, her arms flailing. “No!” she screamed.
“Shh...it’s okay.”
Her eyes were filled with wild fear, and it sent a shiver down Clara’s spine. She stood and looked around the small stone building. She walked to a window that was covered with iron bars. Clara attempted to shake the bars, but they didn’t budge.
“I tried all of them,” Abigail said in a defeated whisper.
Clara nodded and walked around the room, stopping in front of the solid wood door. This had to be their way out.
“The man who brought us here will return soon,” Abigail stated.
Clara pulled on the door, shaking it. At first, she was excited at how much it shook but quickly realized it still didn’t give all that much. She looked at the pieces keeping the door in place to see if there was a way they could remove them. Clara pushed and pulled on them, but it wasn’t an option.
She sat in the chair, feeling defeated.
“We will never get away, will we?” Abigail said in tears.
Clara shook her head, not wanting to upset her. “We will,” she said determinedly.
She looked round and saw a broom lying against a wall as well as a heavy pan by the fireplace. She walked over and picked it up. It was heavy, it could work.
Abigail looked at her confused. “We can’t fight him.”
“This is the only way,” Clara insisted.
“You don’t understand. He is too large. He will quickly overwhelm us,” Abigail said, her voice cracking with fear.
Clara needed Abigail to believe they could do this or whatever actions she took would be futile. She grabbed Abigail’s shoulders and said, “You can do this. We can do this. We will disarm him and take his horse.”
Abigail took a deep breath and nodded.
“You will stand to the side of the door and when he walks through, you will hit him with the broom. He will turn towards you. I will then hit him with the pan.”
“What if hitting him won’t stop him?”
“I promise you it will.”
