He paused only to swipe up the cane before giving chase.
He leapt down the stairs. On reaching the ground floor, he heard a door bang and headed in that direction.
A small narrow room lay to one side of the dining area. Halfway down the outer wall, a door to the garden stood ajar.
He ran for it, aware that Diana was only steps behind him.
“There’s an alley beyond the rear fence,” she gasped.
He went through the doorway at a run, but there was no Herschel waiting to brain him. He paused to swiftly check, but on seeing no one in the shadows, raced on down the path to the gate in the fence.
The gate was unlatched.
He stepped through, and the sound of running footsteps drew his attention to the left. Despite the dense shadows cast by the surrounding buildings, he glimpsed the darker shape of Herschel fleeing in apparent panic.
Toby raced after him.
The cobbled alley narrowed, tacking back and forth as it followed property boundaries. Herschel disappeared around a dog leg.
Toby rushed on. He cleared the last corner and saw Herschel, still some way ahead, reach the open street and rush blindly into the thoroughfare.
Herschel halted and looked around wildly, then swung to face down the street.
He stood there, gaping, and four horses drawing a heavy coach ran over him.
Shocked, Toby halted.
A second later, Diana ran into him, and he grabbed her arms and steadied her, even while his gaze remained locked on the trampled body sprawled on the main road. “Quiet,” he breathed.
She, too, stared uncomprehendingly at the scene before them, illuminated by the streetlights along the larger thoroughfare.
Judging by the sounds of wheels, hooves, and harness, the carriage had halted just along the street.
Silent seconds ticked past. Carriage doors shut, and footsteps, two sets, approached along the street. Heavy-footed steps, long strides. Male.
Two black-leather-coated figures appeared and halted to stand and look down at the almost-certainly-dead Herschel.
Toby stiffened. He felt Diana glance at him, but kept his gaze glued to the scene playing out before them.
The shorter and burlier of the men crouched beside the body, heaved it over, and briskly searched Herschel’s pockets. After a thorough, repeated search, with a disgusted huff, the burly man, whom Toby knew as Koch, flung the side of Herschel’s coat across the dead man’s chest and rose. “He doesn’t have it.”
The taller, older man—Jager—sneered. “Fool!” He nudged the body with the toe of his boot.
Toby didn’t wait to hear more. He and Diana were standing in dense shadow. Carefully, silently, he stepped back, drawing her with him, guarding against any sudden movement.
He didn’t take his eyes from Jager and Koch until he and Diana had retreated around the last corner and the side of a building cut off the view.
Then, with his lips grimly set, he turned, took Diana’s hand, and as fast as he dared, walked silently with her back to the Locke house.
Her fingers trembled in his, but she didn’t make a sound.
Finally, after they’d secured the rear gate, entered the house, and shut and locked the back door, he dragged in a huge breath, then blew it out and, through the dimness, caught Diana’s shocked gaze. “You have two minutes to collect whatever you need to take with you to England.”
Diana stared at him, read the harsh reality in his face, and managed a single nod.
After two seconds of rapidly taking stock, she whirled and raced up the stairs.
She rushed into her bedroom. Judging by the disarranged bed, ripped pillows, dislodged mattress, open armoire, and the three dresses flung on the floor, Herschel had been searching in there when they’d interrupted him.
