Page 88 of Let Me Be Your Hero
Archibald jolted as he recognized them as two of the men who had attacked Izzie in Lady Waldegrave’s gardens. One was the man whose wrist he had broken, and surely enough, his arm was in a splint and sling. The other was one of the pair who had fled the scene rather than face him.
Archibald hurried around Lady Griselda. He marked the moment the two men realized who he was.
“Oh, shit,” the man with the broken wrist said.
“Run!” his companion cried, fleeing toward the back of the house.
“We’ve got ‘em, boss!” Collins called, giving chase with a trio of Archibald’s men.
Inge led them straight to the door the men had been guarding. This time, when presented with a locked door, she did not calmly signal but began pawing excitedly at the varnished wood.
“Braver Hund,” Lady Griselda said, feeding the dog another treat. “Lady Isabella must be inside. She would not be so frantic unless we were close.”
A desperate sort of hope bubbled up inside of Archibald’s throat. He rapped on the door. “Izzie! Izzie, darling, are you in there?”
There was no answer. Still, he had to believe Izzie was behind that door.
Of course, just because she was behind that door didn’t mean that they would find her alive.
He pushed the thought out of his mind. It was too horrible to even contemplate.
He tried the knob. “Locked,” he muttered. “I’m coming, Izzie,” he cried. “Hang on!”
He took three steps back and was preparing to ram the door with his shoulder when Harrington laid a hand upon his shoulder. “Wait! That will make too much noise. Thetford can pick the lock.”
“I can,” Thetford agreed. “Somebody give me a hairpin.”
“Breaking and entering,” Mr. Daubney groaned. “Just what this afternoon needs.”
“Come now, Mr. Daubney,” Harrington said. “Don’t be that way. In fact, why don’t you join me for a moment in looking out this window. The view, I think you will agree, is very fine.”
“The view is of a brick wall,” the Runner muttered.
“Well, yes,” Harrington agreed. “But looking at it will give you… what’s the term I’m looking for?”
“Plausible deniability,” Diana offered brightly.
Harrington snapped his fingers. “Plausible deniability, that’s the one!” Slinging an arm around Mr. Daubney’s shoulders, he turned him to face the window.
Lady Morsley gave her brother-in-law a hairpin, and Lord Thetford knelt upon the floor. Archibald probably could have done it himself. He had personally made all the locks in use at his family home. He probably understood their inner workings better than Thetford.
But, given how hard his hands were shaking as he wondered what he might find on the other side of that door, it was probably better to leave it to the viscount.
It took Thetford less than a minute. “Got it!” he cried, hopping up.
Archibald seized the knob and shoved his way into the room, terrified of what he might find.
It was a bedchamber. Izzie was splayed out on the bed, gagged, with a wrist tied to each of the bedposts. Her hair was a mess, and it was clear she’d been crying.
But she was alive. She was alive, and the relief that flared in her eyes was unmistakable.
He rushed to the bed and began fumbling with the knot on the gag, but his hands were shaking, which rendered his usually deft fingers clumsy.
“Here,” her brother, Harrington, said, pulling a knife from his boot. “Let me.”
In a trice, Harrington had her free. Izzie drew in a gasping breath as she threw herself into Archibald’s arms. “Archibald! You found me!”
He pulled her into his lap and buried his face in her hair. “Of course, I found you.”
