Page 138 of The Viscount's Seduction
The villain laughed harshly. “Everyone knows your horses are stabled elsewhere. But who cares about bloody horses? All the best of London, even the Prime Minister, will be killed in the blast and the fire that will follow. Except me. I’ll survive. And the King will come looking for people to run his government and I’ll be there.”
Bloody fool. “You’ve enough powder to blow up all the witnesses, do you?”
“Where I don’t have powder, I have men to finish them off. Except for this one. She shall give me what she wouldn’t surrender at Glenmorrow, before she’s rendered speechless. I’ll take care of her myself.”
“Everyone will wonder at your miraculous survival after attending the ball.”
“I’ll have left early. Everyone else will be dead.”
“I think not,” Bakeley said. “Why not put down the knife?”
While Hollister talked, Sirena was drawing her needle-thin blade.
“What of this man?” Bink tossed the battered footman face-first to the ground and put a foot on his neck.
Bink had seen Sirena’s blade and was making sure the man didn’t shout a warning. God, he loved his big brother.
Hollister shrugged. “Just kill him.”
“You bastard,” the man on the ground shouted.
Hollister’s low chuckle sent more chills through Bakeley. Sirena’s mouth had firmed, her hand clenching.
“Soon,” Kincaid mumbled. “Keep talking.”
Sirena willedher heart to stop clanging and captured the knife in the folds of her gown, grasping for Madame’s instructions.Up. No Bone. Courage.
Pain jabbed at her and she took in a sharp breath. The bastard’s knife pierced like a deep needle prick, and she could feel a trickle of moisture. Please God, let her not pass out.
Her husband went on, his voice smooth and measured, with a crisp edge that threatened damnation. Perhaps only she heard that. Perhaps Hollister was too stupid.
“Hollister,” a gruff voice shouted. “Look what I’ve found.”
Her heart dropped. A big man in a workman’s kit shuffled out, Lady Arbrough trapped in his arms. His hat was drawn low, but even in the dark she could see the scar that traced a muddled path down his cheek. “Here’s your blackmailer.”
No.Her breath caught. Jamie was supposed to show up. Lady Arbrough was to set the trap, but Jamie would bring the letter. They’d talked about it the night before.
Their plan had failed. Donegal had returned, Hollister had not fallen for the ruse, and where was Jamie?
Bakeley’s gaze caught her, his tension lighting up the air around him. He gave a little shake of his head. What the devil he meant by it, she didn’t know, but at least Hollister was too distracted to notice.
“Donegal,” Hollister growled. “She was to stay in the ballroom with the rest. What are you about, you fool?”
“Hedging my bets,” the man holding Lady Arbrough said.
“Damn you, Hollister,” Lady Arbrough spat out. “You’ll both be sorry. If I die, or if I disappear, a copy of the list will be delivered to the Home Office tomorrow.”
“The Home Office will be a shambles tomorrow,” Hollister said. “Is your fuse lit, man?”
“Aye, minutes to blow,” the other man said darkly.
Hollister’s arm tightened around her, his arm shaking with the tension.
“Let the women go.” Bakeley had moved a step to the side.
“You may have that whore, Donegal, and I’ll take this one. And before we’re done, I’ll showyouthe horsewhip, Lady Bakeley.”
A trembling overtook her, but her fingers worked the blade out of its sheath, her hand stiffening upon the hilt.
