Page 64 of An Unbending Lady for the Desperate Earl
Determination centered in his mind.I must do whatever is necessary to be happy.In the space of a day, he had discovered what it felt like to feel as though he had lost Victoria. It steeled his resolve, letting him know that he never wanted to be without her again. He only hoped he could be the man that Benedict had spoken of—a man who could love Victoria as she was, never seeking to change her, but being there through the difficult days that may come.
“Are we ready, My Lord?” Foster walked over, rubbing sleep from his eyes.
Christian nodded, his heart jolting. “Yes, I rather think we are.”
Within a matter of moments, the constables and Benedict had gathered on foot, forgoing their horses in case it alerted the enemy to their presence, and awaited Christian’s command. It unsettled him, for it reminded him intensely of the battlefield. Why, if he closed his eyes, he could almost smell the gunpowder, and hear the whinny of frightened steeds, peppered with the sniffle of terrified men who didn’t want to die that day.
“Does everyone know what they are to do?” Christian turned to his would-be soldiers.
“We surround the barn,” Foster replied. “We bar any exits, and then half of us will enter, apprehending anyone we see. If they try to flee, those waiting outside will stop them.”
Christian turned back; his eyes fixed on the farmhouse. “Come, we must act now.”
He set off into the gloom, leading his band of eager men through the dense forestry, toward enemy lines. They were all armed with the weaponry that the constables had brought, though Benedict possessed a pistol of his own. Violence didn’t sit well with Christian, but he would not shy away from it either, if the moment came where it had to be used. Still, he prayed that he wouldn’t have to kill anyone this night, for when he had returned from the war, he had vowed never to take a life again.
Under the night’s shadowed cloak, the group approached the building through the trees. They paused at the tree line for a moment, to make sure that no one was guarding the vicinity. But there was no sign of anyone. With the evening being so bitter, it seemed as though they had all retreated into the barn, just as Christian had anticipated they might.
Christian hurried away from the woodland and up to a door to the side of the barn, pressing his back flat to the wall and beckoning for the others to spread out, as per their plan. With a nod, they all darted forward, and disappeared into the darkness, with only Benedict joining Christian at that particular entrance.
He had just fixed his knife into the narrow gap of the doorframe, intending to break the lock that held it closed, when the door swung open of its own accord. Christian’s breath hissed out of his lungs in alarm. If anyone spotted them now, they would sound the alarm, and the plan would come tumbling down.
“Lord Galbury?” a familiar voice whispered, as a figure appeared in the doorway.
“Green?” Christian gaped at the driver.
Simon smiled. “I’ve been waiting for your arrival.”
“What? How?” Benedict chimed in.
“They had me bound in the hayloft, right next to the window. I saw the constables arrive and knew you couldn’t be far away. I’ve been watching ever since, ready to let you in,” Simon explained quickly. “It didn’t take me long to get out of the ropes they’d tied me with. The first trick an investigator learns, right?”
Benedict cocked his head to one side. “Right.”
“I’ve opened the other doors already, so the others won’t have any trouble gaining entry.” Simon glanced over his shoulder. “What’s the plan?”
“Arrest everyone,” Christian said simply.
“No problem. I’m at your service.” Simon bowed his head.
“Wait… do you know where Victoria is being held? Is she here?” Christian remembered that this man had been stationed as a temporary driver, in order to keep watch over Victoria in case she attempted anything foolhardy. Which, of course, she had. Though he had to admit, with some reluctance, that it had been a stroke of genius. After all, it had led them to the very hub of these kidnappings.
Simon nodded. “There is a set of stairs in the center of the barn, which leads up to an office of sorts. She is in there. The man in charge—I don’t know his name, as nobody refers to him by it. They all call him ‘Father’ instead—took her up there.”
“They call him ‘Father’? What, is he a priest or something?” Benedict muttered.
Simon shrugged. “I have no idea. It’s just what they call him.”
“Come on, we need to move.” Christian grasped the hilt of his pistol and steadied himself. Now that he knew where Victoria was being kept, nothing could stop him. He had done his waiting—too much waiting—and now it was time to act.
“After you, My Lord.” Benedict took up his pistol and raised it, awaiting the signal.
Christian lifted his head to the heavens and pursed his lips, releasing a loud coo, that sounded very much like a wood pigeon. The sound drifted out across the silent woodland, where he hoped the others would hear it. With that, he took one last, deep breath, and swept into the barn. At the exact same moment, the rest of the constables burst in through their respective entrances, and all hell broke loose.
Caught by surprise, the unsuspecting minions warred with fight or flight. Some froze, and were easily captured, while others sprinted for freedom, only to find their way blocked by the constables. Shouts rose up, ricocheting between the barn rafters, as the kidnappers tried to escape. But Christian’s men were too fast, and too organized, and were using the element of surprise to their advantage.
Two men barreled toward where Christian, Benedict, and Simon stood. They skidded to a halt in front of the trio, their eyes darting wildly in panic.
“Stand aside!” one bellowed.
