“She shot me,” he squealed. “The bitch shot me.”
“I should have waited until we were married and then I could have inherited your property at least.” Alice came down the steps and handed the pistol to Andrew. “Thank you, sir.”
“Thank you, miss. Good shot.”
Alice shrugged as Ravenwood continued to writhe around clutching his shattered knee. “I was aiming for his bollocks, but I have never been good at hitting small targets.” Cordelia went to her and wrapped her arms around the girl. “Can we go home now?” Alice whispered. “I should really like to go home.”
“I should think so,” a rich aristocratic voice said from the top of the stairs. “Is everyone well? Does anyone need assistance?”
“I do,” Ravenwood moaned.
“I wasn’t addressing you.”
“Your Grace,” Cordelia said, and dipped into an awkward curtsy.
“Miss Perriton.”
“Cordelia. I heard a shot.” Daedalus started down the stairs, missed a step and knocked his brother into the railing as he ran to take her and Alice into his arms. “Are you two hurt? Did he hurt you?”
Archer Colwyn came down the stairs, two sets of keys in his hand. “Who shot the viscount?”
“I did,” Lady Alice said. “Are you going to arrest me, Mister Colwyn?”
“Not at all. For two very good reasons. He needed to be shot. And my betrothed and the other ladies of the literary society would have my guts for garters if I pulled you before the JP.” He tossed a set of keys to Andrew. “Here, lad, let’s get these ladies out of this cellar and back to London.”
“Bloody good idea,” Tall Mary bellowed from her cell.
Daedalus laughed as his brother glanced in Tall Mary’s direction and raised an eyebrow.
“I believe Lady Camilla is holding a late supper for all of us,” the duke said. “We would do well not to leave the lady waiting. Alice, you will be coming home with me, my dear.”
“Really, Uncle Percy?”
“Indeed.” He held out his hand which Alice took after kissing both Daedalus and Cordelia on the cheek. The duke escorted his niece up the stairs as if they were entering a ball rather than leaving a filthy cellar.
Andrew ushered Cordelia’s friends up the stairs. Archer Colwyn stood over Ravenwood and met Daedalus’s fiery gaze. “I know you want to kill him, but Captain El has asked us not to dispose of any more peers for a while. Go. Take the lady home. I’ll take care of this.”
Daedalus helped her up the stairs and out of the cottage. A veritable army of carriages and men on horseback milled about in front of the house.
“Good heavens,” Cordelia said, reveling in the strength of Daedalus’s arm about her.
“My brother does nothing on a small scale,” he said, and helped her into her carriage. When he joined her on the front facing seat, he confided, “But I believe Lady Camilla also had a hand in the assembling of this army.” He tapped on the roof of the carriage and the coachmen turned the horses toward the road back to London.
“You told him,” she said quietly, resting her head on his shoulder.
“I did.”
“Good. There are two things I must tell you, Daedalus.” Already her heart ached, and a bone-chilling cold washed over her.
He shifted in the seat so he could gaze into her eyes. “You can tell me anything, love. You know that.”
She winced. “Ravenwood knows who I am, and he knows that the stories in my books are not the things that I have done, well at least not until lately.” She tried to smile. “The stories in my books are from the lives of the ladies at the Gracechurch Street house.”
“So, how many…” He shook his head vehemently. “That is not my concern.
“Two,” she replied. “You and Ravenwood, and he does not really count.” She shuddered. “I am sorry I lied to you about my experience and my ability to teach you—”
“You did teach me, Cordelia. You have set me free. It doesn’t matter whereyoulearned your skills. It matters that you took the time to teach me, when you didn’t have to do so at all.”
