Lady Catherine's Secret: A Secrets and Seduction book (44 page)

“Oh? I thought perhaps you’d withdrawn since you aren’t yet dressed for the event. The odds-makers have you coming in fourth. It doesn’t sound as though either you or your friends will take home the trophy. They have a young man by the name of Gray as the likely winner.”

“I’m not surprised,” he said, pride welling within him. “I’ve watched him. He’s quite talented with a foil.”

Cunningham pinned him with a sharp gaze, and Daniel shuttered his face, returning the look with cool equanimity. That flicker of pride had been a foolish slip.

Hearing a commotion near the door, they both turned toward it, but could see nothing past the throng of spectators.

After a few moments, Daniel saw Mr. Winston making his way through the crowd blocking the entrance to the salon, his gaze fixed on Daniel. There was a look of urgency in the secretary’s eyes that sent a shiver of foreboding down Daniel’s spine.

“If you’ll excuse me,” he murmured as he walked away from Cunningham.

He crossed the open central area of the salon and joined Winston near the entrance.

The man quickly sidled close to him. “Your presence is required in Maestro Bernini’s office,” Winston murmured, turning on his heel and leading the way. The smaller man slipped through the crowd, but as Daniel followed him, the men blocking his path made way for him, stepping to one side lest they be trampled.

Daniel followed Winston around the tall desk and toward the door beyond. He could hear the murmur of voices from within, and Lord Spencer’s stood out from the rest. He couldn’t make out the words, but the emotion came through clearly. The man sounded distressed, and Daniel’s feeling of foreboding intensified.

Stepping through the doorway, Daniel scanned the room. A man was lying on the sofa, and another man in a black coat leaned over him, blocking his face. Charles sat on the edge of a large wing-backed chair, looking tense as he watched them. At the sound of Daniel’s footsteps, Charles looked up, and as their eyes met, the younger man jumped to his feet, his jaw dropping in astonishment.

“You’re here,” Charles said. “I didn’t believe it when Winston told us. I thought he must have been mistaken.”

“Where else should I be?” Of course he was here. Exactly where he said he’d be. “What’s going on? And where’s Gray?”

Charles took a step forward, revealing the identity of the person on the sofa.

Wentworth. And he was injured. His face covered with blood.

“What happened?” Daniel demanded.

“Wentworth was attacked.” Charles described the events that had taken place over the past fifteen minutes, including Stansbury’s claim to have kidnapped Daniel. “Gray took off on his horse to reconnoiter at the warehouse.”

“Gray’s alone?” Daniel’s mind raced. This didn’t make sense. Why would Stansbury attack Wentworth? Could Stansbury have intended to draw Catherine away from the tournament? With Daniel already here, oblivious to the danger, and Wentworth incapacitated, that would have left only Catherine and Charles. If Stansbury had lured her away with a lie that he’d been kidnapped, she would have been certain to follow. But that still didn’t make sense. Why not simply knock out Charles and kidnap Catherine? Why attack Wentworth at all?

There must be something more to this.

“Is Gray alone?” Daniel repeated.

Charles nodded.

“Get my horse!” Daniel shouted, sending Winston, who had been lingering near the door, scurrying away to do his bidding. “I have to go. I have to save... save Gray.”

If he hurried, he might still be in time to stop Stansbury from whatever he planned. Because whatever it was, it boded ill for his wife.

“I’m coming with you,” Charles said.

“No, I’ll be better off on my own.” His eyes scanned the room for a weapon. He needed something more deadly than a fencing foil. Among the gentlemanly weapons displayed on the wall, he spied a pair of dueling pistols. With two great strides he was across the room, yanking them from the wall.

“I’m not staying behind,” Charles said, his voice angry. “We’re family. We need to stick together.”

Family. The word brought Daniel up short. He glanced at Wentworth, lying injured on the sofa. The man had been his only family for years. But now he had more. Charles, and Catherine, and even young Sarah.

Maestro Bernini entered the room, and his gaze moved directly to the weapons Daniel held. “Those are only for display,” Bernini said. “I wouldn’t trust my life with them. You can use my new Colt. And listen to your brother-in-law. Don’t go charging in there alone.”

Daniel glanced back over his shoulder, staring at Charles in silence. Then he nodded.

Bernini moved to his desk and unlocked it, pulled out a wooden box, flipped it open, and angled it to show Daniel the pistol it contained.

“But if you’re here, whom did Stansbury kidnap? We definitely saw someone inside the carriage,” Charles said, stepping between Daniel and Bernini.

The sharp smell of metal and gun oil hit Daniel’s nostrils as Bernini loaded the Colt. “I don’t know,” Daniel said. “My biggest concern right now is getting to Gray in time. Stansbury is cunning, and I have the feeling he’s sprung some sort of trap. In fact, this may all have been an elaborate ruse to get her alone.”

“Her?” Bernini asked.

Damn
. “Did I say her? I mean him, of course. I must admit, I’m concerned about my wife, since she’s home alone. It was a slip of the tongue. I’m afraid the rumor I’ve been kidnapped will get back to her.”

“I’ll send a message to her that you’re safe. I wouldn’t want your bride to be unduly alarmed,” Bernini said. He handed the loaded pistol to Charles. “Find Gray,” he said, revealing the depth of his concern through the tremor in his voice. “I couldn’t bear to lose that boy.”

Daniel nodded. He turned and tore out of the room with Charles on his heels

He just hoped they wouldn’t be too late.

§

As they approached the closed gates leading to Stansbury’s offices and warehouse, Charles blanched. “That’s her horse.” Daniel spotted her black mount and scanned the area, trying to catch sight of her, hoping she’d burst out from some alleyway. But he didn’t see her anywhere.

His stomach sank. She was already inside. He was certain of it. That damned impetuous nature of hers was going to get her killed.

Daniel jumped from his horse and tied it next to hers. With a grim look at Charles, he turned toward the large wooden doors leading to the courtyard. Would they be locked?

He lifted the latch and simultaneously pushed against one of the large doors with his shoulder. To his relief, it moved. He glanced back to see Charles tying his horse next to Rajah.

Daniel stepped inside, rounding the edge of the large door and entering the courtyard. He raised his eyes to see Stansbury less than two feet in front of him, holding a key.

With a rush, Stansbury threw himself forward, and Huntley danced to one side to avoid the blow. Stansbury rammed his shoulder into the door, but slid his key toward the lock so quickly that Huntley suddenly realized that locking the door had been the man’s goal all along.

Stansbury slid the key into his waistcoat pocket and turned to face Huntley with a broad grin. “Excellent timing, Huntley. I’m glad you’re able to take part in my afternoon’s entertainment.”

“What entertainment? What are you talking about?” he asked, his chest tightening. Why had he let Charles keep the pistol instead of taking it from him? He was defenseless without it.

“Why, I plan to bring down the great Lord Huntley in many, many ways. I’ll make sure everyone knows that your famous Midas touch was just a ruse to disguise your underhanded scheming. I know you started asking questions about me. You ruined my partnerships. You’re the one who told them all to come to my warehouse that day so they’d meet each other. It had to be you. And you’ll pay. You and your wife.”

“Where is she?” Anger made his voice shake.

Stansbury’s face darkened with fury. “That little slut? Why do you even want to claim her? She’s an aberration. An abomination!” Flecks of spittle flew from Stansbury’s lips and landed on his lapel. “She prances around town dressed as a man, showing off her limbs and her hindquarters for everyone to see. Who knows to what depths she’s descended in her degradation? She’s even entered the gentleman’s changing area at Bernini’s Academy.” His eyes gleamed with a sick light. “She’s perverted, but I’ll teach her a lesson. And you, too.”

Huntley took a threatening step forward, curling his hands into fists. Stansbury danced backward, keeping distance between them.

“Lord Huntley has arrived!” Stansbury shouted in a singsong voice. “Would you both be so kind as to step outside? I think he’s anxious to see his whore of a wife!” He looked back at Daniel with a broad grin.

Daniel’s head snapped around to face the only open door leading into the warehouse. He detected a flicker of movement and saw two forms emerge from the darkness.

55 - Don't Trip

Attwood shoved Catherine into the courtyard while keeping the edge of the knife pressed against her throat. She squeezed her eyes shut. The feel of the metal against her throat sickened her. This was nothing like the knife practice session with Daniel.

What if one of them accidentally tripped?

Her eyes flew open.

One stumble and she could wind up with her throat slit.

Don’t trip. Don’t trip.

She scanned the courtyard, searching for Daniel. There he was. Unharmed.

Attwood pushed her forward. Her shoulders were pressed against his chest, but she kept her back arched away from him, wanting as little contact with his body as possible.

“Your wife thought she’d come to your rescue. She planned to take on the two of us alone. Isn’t that precious?” Stansbury’s gaze raked over her, leaving an oily residue all over her body. “She’s either stupid or brave. Or both.”

I’m a little brave. But mostly I’m very, very stupid.

“Catherine. Did they hurt you?” Daniel asked.

“Not yet,” Attwood answered for her. “We thought we’d let you watch.”

Catherine felt the blade dig into her neck. She let out a whimper.

“No!” shouted Daniel.

Stansbury chuckled. “What’s wrong? Do you feel weak? Impotent? Do you hate it when someone else is in control?” He leaned down and pulled a knife from his boot. “Let’s take our little gathering inside, shall we? I’d hate for someone out on the street to overhear us.”

When Daniel didn’t move, Stansbury slipped behind him. “Now,” he said, shoving Daniel in the back with his open palm.

Daniel took a hesitant step forward, then another.

Catherine’s eyes locked with his as the distance between them slowly diminished. She tried to look brave but could feel her lower lip tremble.

He paused in front of her and gave a wry smile of reassurance that went all the way to his eyes and touched her all the way to her soul. The corner of her mouth twitched in response, and a kernel of confidence swelled within her.

“Move,” Attwood said, stepping backward and pulling Catherine away from Daniel. She stumbled, and his arm relaxed slightly, lessening the pressure of the blade. Her knees seemed to give out as she slumped against him.

“Are you afraid, Huntley? Your wife is.” Attwood’s voice oozed condescension.

Daniel’s spine appeared rigid as he stepped through the doorway. Stansbury followed close behind him.

Attwood pressed her forward. As they entered the warehouse, he paused, probably to allow his eyes to adjust to the low light.

Catherine easily saw Daniel just a few feet ahead of her. He glanced at her over his shoulder and noticed Attwood’s hesitation. A spark seemed to light in Daniel’s eyes, and a silent communication traveled between them. He gave her a slight nod.

Daniel abruptly sprang into action. His foot flew out in a kick that spun his entire body around, knocking Stansbury’s knife to the floor where it clattered away, disappearing in the half-light.

Catherine took that as her cue. She grabbed Attwood’s arm with both of her hands and then turned her body toward the blade of his knife, just as Daniel had taught her, tightening Attwood's grip around her neck. Then she ducked down, forcing Attwood’s blade into his chest.

Everything happened quickly. The movement felt nearly identical to the maneuver she’d practiced once with Daniel at the academy and so many times since their wedding; however, when she pushed the blade toward Attwood’s chest, it actually sank into his flesh. It penetrated a couple of inches, and he stared down at it in shock.

Attwood’s eyes bulged. He let out a small cough as he clutched at the knife handle. He pulled at it ineffectually as he tottered sideways, falling against the wall of the warehouse. He leaned his shoulders against the rough boards as he slowly slid down. He continued to tug at the knife between his ribs as he slipped to the floorboards. He coughed with a wet, sickly sound.

She stared at the man on the ground, hearing nothing but a roaring in her ears. Had she pierced his lung? She had heard other fencers describe the same pinkish foam she saw forming at Attwood's mouth. They said it was a sure sign of such an injury. The thought made her feel sick to her stomach.