Chapter Twenty-Four

The two of them ran quickly down the long flight of stone steps that fronted the Villa August, Pip’s mind working feverishly, and Allegra following her husband without hesitation.

“Thank God, there’s Chuffy Henderson’s carriage—I know Grimes.” Pip sprinted for a neat carriage and pair drawn off to the side of the gravel.

“Grimes—it’s an emergency. Tell Chuffy I’m borrowing his nags and let Vivian Kendall know we’re off to Falworth Manor.” He shouted the commands as he leapt into the driver’s seat and untied the reins.

Allegra threw herself onto the squabs and closed the door as it swung inwards. Grimes waved a hand and went running off to the Villa. Kneeling on the seat, she called out of the window to her husband, who was trying to control the horses yet make the best speed possible.

“Follow this road—I know the way—but it’s going to be a bit of a rough ride.” She grabbed onto the strap as the carriage lurched slightly over a pitted patch of road.

Following Allegra’s instructions, Pip slowed the team after about fifteen nerve-wracking minutes.

“Stop here,” ordered Allegra.

“But Falworth is over there.” He pointed to a grey stone edifice, which loomed between some rather spindly evergreens. No lights were showing.

“I know. But we can get in through a side entrance—that way we don’t have to alert Charles that we’re here. Believe me, I know this house only too well. Trust me on this.” Allegra put all the confidence she could muster into her voice.

Tying off the reins, Pip jumped down and helped her out of the carriage as thunder rumbled in the distance.

“I trust you, Ally. Show us where to go?” He held out his hand to her.

She tried to ignore the lump in her throat that threatened to choke her as she realised he trusted her with not only himself, but with Grace as well. It took quite a man to place that much faith in a woman’s directions. Yes, her husband was quite a man.

Pausing for a brief glance around, she got her bearings.

“There’s an old passage. This way...” She took a path parallel to the house towards a large clump of overgrown bushes. “It doesn’t look as though anyone’s been through here for years.”

She tugged and pulled at a few branches to reveal an ancient, battered wooden door that was peeling and missing a hinge.

“This will bring us into a small passage just off the main hall—from there we can figure out where he’s taken Grace.”

Pip’s heart was in his throat, but he fought to remain calm. Something distracted him and he turned to catch a glimmer of light in one of the windows.

“There, did you see?” he whispered. “They’re in there, all right. I think you should stay here...” A snort from his irate wife quickly interrupted him.

“Look, Pip, I know that house like the back of my hand. That kind of knowledge is going to be very important. Don’t be an idiot and waste it.”

It took less than a second for him to accept that she was correct. He nodded and then pulled the last branch away and cautiously eased the old door ajar so that they could squeeze through.

The passage was damp, dark, and cobwebby, but Allegra resolutely led the way with confidence—obviously familiar with every bump and turn. “Watch your head, here, Pip—it narrows before the door at the end,” she whispered.

He obligingly ducked and slowed his pace a little until they both came to the end of the passage. A few missing bricks allowed a brief flash of lightning to illuminate them, and Pip looked at Allegra.

“Let me go first...” he breathed into her ear. “Just in case.”

“I know which way to go,” she countered.

“You can still tell me when we get to the other side. But I need to know you’re safe behind me, Ally. If anything happens, run out of here and get help as fast as you can.”

“You go first then,” said Allegra, deliberately refusing to acknowledge the rest of Pip’s instructions.

Stooping nearly double, he gingerly pushed the door, grimacing as it protested his movements with a soft squeak. The hallway beyond was dark.

“Stay close.” He whispered the words as he eased through the tight opening and entered the house, bent over at a rather uncomfortable angle.

Which was very convenient for the man with the huge knife who was waiting silently behind the passageway door.

“Don’t move an inch,” came a rough and ugly growl.

Allegra gasped at the sound and froze.

“I have a knife against his Lordship’s aristocratic throat—I’m sure you wouldn’t want his death on your conscience—so come on out of there whoever you are—slowly...”

She peeked around the door to see Charles Falworth brilliantly lit for a brief moment as the storm neared and the lightning flashed more often. He held a viciously long blade against her husband’s throat.

“Well, well. You brought the bitch with you, my Lord. I should have known she’d be butting in. That’s most convenient, of course. You’ve saved me the trouble of going and getting her.”

“You have me, let her go,” said Pip, in a level voice.

“Heh heh heh. Oh no, I don’t think that’s a good idea.” He giggled, the sound of his laughter chilling Allegra to her marrow. This man was well past the point of rational conversation.

“I knew you’d come in this way, Allegra, you stupid bitch. Always so predictable. ‘Don’t do that Charles...I don’t like that, Charles...’ always whining. Lousy between the covers, ain’t she?” He tightened his grip on Pip’s throat as if trying to squeeze out an answer.

Pip merely grunted, and Allegra wondered how he could keep control over his emotions. Only the sight of that blade at her husband’s neck was holding her back from leaping on Falworth and clawing his eyes out.

“She thought I’d forget about this old way in, but I knew...yes, me, I knew you wouldn’t forget. You were always thinking about things, weren’t you, Allegra? Always bloody thinking, when you should have been paying attention to your duties as my wife and spreading those delectable thighs of yours.”

He gave another of his shrill high-pitched giggles as he pulled Pip along, knife firmly against his throat. Ally gasped silently as a flash of light revealed a trickle of blood soaking Pip’s white cravat. The weapon was sharp and hideous.

“Have you taken her by the backdoor yet?” he asked crudely. “I never got around to that, but I’ll bet she’d be good ridden that way—wouldn’t have to see those reproachful eyes, making her master feel like he’s less than a man.” Falworth curled his lip at her. “We’re going into the library, Allegra, you remember where that is?”

“Yes, Charles.” She answered quietly, hoping to calm him down a little with the sound of her voice.

“You wanted more books in there, didn’t you? Always wanting something...”

She moved silently, amazed at the hatred pouring out of Charles Falworth and directed at her. She had honestly believed that she’d been the best wife she could under the circumstances—perhaps she had indeed made some mistakes.

Then a flash of lightning illuminated Pip’s face, and the mixture of pain and fear she saw there was for her.

No. She knew she’d done nothing wrong.

Bravely, she raised her chin, and the emotions in her husband’s eyes settled down to a cold, hard anger focused on Falworth.

Thunder rumbled hugely throughout the decaying house as they made their way through a small anteroom to the main entrance hall. Everywhere Allegra looked, the lightning flashes revealed dust and neglect—clearly the current Lord Falworth never came to his country estate.

Briefly she wondered about the servants who had been left behind, but all thoughts were driven from her brain as they neared the library and light spilled out into the darkness.

“Here we are,” sang Falworth in a high voice. “Now the party can get started.”

He pushed Pip into the room, knowing Allegra would follow. She stopped dead at the sight before her.

Grace was sitting on a spindly chair next to a fireplace with her hands obviously tied behind her. Her delicate shawl had been formed into a makeshift gag and was bound tightly around her mouth. Her eyes showed a combination of terror and anger, but what really crushed Allegra’s heart was the vicious bruise on the side of Grace’s face and the fact that her right eye was beginning to swell.

What kind of man could hit a woman like that? In the next second, the answer came to her—one who was completely insane.

Someone was going to have to put an end to Charles Falworth.

Pip was having much the same reaction to the scene.

“Falworth is going to die tonight.” The thought was uppermost in his mind, as they entered the room and he looked at his niece for the first time. He judged the distance between his captor and a small table—if he could just stumble slightly...

The knife tightened on his neck and the trickle of blood resumed, as if in answer to his thoughts.

“Well, my Lord,” sniggered Falworth. “Why don’t you come and sit by your lovely niece?”

“Oui, My so-handsome Lord. Why do you not seat yourself?”

A fresh voice made both Pip and Allegra jump, and Pip’s heart sank as he saw none other than Madame emerge from behind the door, holding a large and ugly pistol in her hand.

She raised the weapon and placed it firmly against Allegra’s temple. “On ze chair, My Lord, or zis room is going to get some new—how-you-say—decorations?”

Pip had no choice.

Moving to the chair opposite Grace’s, he sat and meekly permitted Falworth to tie his wrists behind him. Charles was thorough—those knots were tight and sweat stood out on Pip’s forehead as he unobtrusively tested the strength of the cravat which served as his bindings.

“Oh, don’t waste your strength, my Lord,” giggled Falworth. “I’m very good at tying knots. The sailors taught me, and then some of my wonderful Indian friends. I really did spend time in India, you know... Did you know that, Allegra?” His eyes were unnaturally bright as he rambled.

“Such a pretty place. Would you like to see it? Maybe I’ll take you someday, if I still want you after I’ve finished playing with you for a while.”

He strolled towards Grace.

“Don’t touch her again.” snarled Pip, fuming against his helplessness.

“Tsk tsk... Mustn’t tell the host what to do, that’s rude. She...” he tipped his head at Grace, “...tried to do that too. What is it with you Allenbridges—you just won’t learn your place, will you?” He stopped and stared at Pip, helpless in the chair. A small smile crossed his face, and he lifted his hand, bringing it down hard. The hilt of the knife smashed into Pip’s face.

Through the blinding pain, Pip heard a cross between a scream and a sob forced from Allegra’s throat, and Falworth turned to her .

“Doesn’t look so handsome now, does he, Allegra?” He glanced briefly at Pip. “But I see you don’t want him hurt...how about this little thing?” Falworth walked over to Grace, grinning at her as she writhed on the chair.

“No, Charles no...” Allegra took a step forward.

“Do not move.” The command came as Madame’s pistol once again pressed against her temple. She could do nothing but watch as Falworth bent over Grace and forced his hand into her bodice, roughly fondling and pinching her delicate young breast.

“Falworth,” yelled Pip, to no avail, as Charles’s hand kept up its violent assault on the gentle curves. He reached for her skirts and pulled them up over her knees.

Tears flowed from Grace’s eyes, but she kept her head and aimed a solid kick at his shins. She missed, but distracted him enough that he removed his hand from her body.

“Be done wiz zis foolish play Charles—we have a task.” The commanding voice of Madame echoed round the room, followed by a loud crash of thunder. It was impressive, rattling the rafters and pulled Falworth’s attention away from Grace, bringing him to Allegra’s side.

“Right as always... Back to business.” He eased one hip onto the small table as if nothing had happened, and stared at Allegra, eyes bright and focused on her from within his savagely burned and scarred features.

“So, Allegra, where is it?”