Chapter 38

CHAPTER 38

I zzie’s maid ran and fetched the chemise her mistress had worn yesterday.

While Archibald, the Astleys, and a dozen of his men from Nettlethorpe Iron looked on, Lady Griselda led Inge to the very base of the rope, then gave her the garment to sniff.

Archibald scarcely dared to let himself hope. He knew hunting dogs were good trackers. But if the kidnappers had stuffed Izzie into a carriage, it seemed unlikely that she would’ve left much of a trail for the pointer to follow.

Holding his breath, he watched as Lady Griselda instructed the dog to “ Such .” Inge immediately put her nose to the ground, sniffing the pavement. Archibald was terrified that she would track Izzie to the edge of the curb, and the trail would immediately go cold.

But instead, Inge started confidently down the pavement, heading away from the Nettlethorpe-Ogilvy mansion.

As one, the group gave a gasp of relief and began trailing the dog down the street.

At the corner, Inge made a sharp left turn, crossing the street and taking them south toward Mayfair. She kept her head down the whole time, her mind on her business, paying no mind to the carriages flying past her in the street.

“By jove,” Harrington Astley said, coming up next to Lady Griselda, “that’s remarkable.”

Lady Griselda waved this off. “Inge is the best tracker I’ve ever trained. This is child’s play for her.”

Inge made another turn, leading them to the opposite side of the square. She marched up to number twenty-seven and would’ve gone right in were it not for the shiny black door barring her way. Inge seemed momentarily affronted but shook herself, then raised a front paw and pointed her muzzle directly at the door.

They retreated around the corner to formulate a plan.

“ Sehr gut , Inge,” Lady Griselda said, feeding the dog a treat from her pocket. “ Braver Hund . You will be having steak tonight, yes, you will.”

Lord Fauconbridge’s face was creased in confusion. “But… is that not Andrew Milner’s house?”

“Andrew Milner?” Lady Morsley asked. “You don’t mean the politician? What could he, of all people, have to do with Izzie’s disappearance?”

Lady Diana and Lady Lucy were jumping up and down.

“She saw him!” Lady Lucy hissed. “In the dark walks!”

“He solicited the services of a”—Lady Diana dropped her voice low—“a woman of easy virtue.”

Lady Lucy turned to her friend. “I had all but forgotten that she mentioned it!”

“Me too!” Lady Diana exclaimed. “It never occurred to me that Andrew Milner might try to have her killed over such a thing!”

“To be sure,” Fauconbridge mused, “he wouldn’t stand a chance of becoming Prime Minister if word of it got out. Not after all the careers he’s ruined on similar accusations.”

“And I suppose that’s all he cared about,” Lady Cheltenham snapped.

Archibald only cared about one thing. “How do we get her out?”

The Bow Street Runner was the first to speak. “Normally, I would knock on the front door and demand to search the house. But Andrew Milner is an influential man, a member of Parliament. In this case, I feel the best course is to go before a judge and obtain a warrant.”

Archibald only managed a snarl, but his words were not necessary, as the entire Astley cohort protested in angry whispers.

Daubney shook his head mulishly. “We must proceed with caution, must follow all the proper channels. Milner could make things extremely unpleasant for me if this turns out to be a false lead.”

“Unpleasant?” Archibald took a step forward. His face must have been terrible to behold, because Daubney, who was two inches taller than him, shrank back. “Do you have any idea how unpleasant I will make things for you if my wife is hurt as a result of your timidity?”

The Runner swallowed. “Well, what would you suggest?”

“I shall knock on the door,” Lady Cheltenham said. “We’ll pretend it’s an ordinary social call.”

“Quite the coincidence for the mother of the woman he’s just kidnapped to turn up,” Harrington noted.

“I say we break down the door,” Morsley offered.

“We can’t just break down the door,” Daubney protested. “It’s bad enough that we’re going in without a warrant!”

Morsley ignored the Runner. “Break down the door and take them by surprise. That’s the way.”

“They won’t be surprised for long,” Ceci noted. “We need something more subtle.”

“We’ll sneak in the back,” Lord Thetford suggested. “We’ll bring Inge. She’ll be able to locate Izzie within the house.”

“No,” Daubney began.

“ Yes ,” Diana said fiercely, giving him such a quelling look that the Runner, who was probably fifteen years her senior, took a step back. “My friend is in there, and if she dies because you were too concerned about following policies and procedures, then with God as my witness, I will make sure the whole world knows of your incompetence!”

Daubney’s brow was creased, but he muttered, “All right.”

Lady Diana turned to face the group. “What we need is a diversion. Mr. Milner is likely watching her like a hawk. We need something enticing enough to draw him away from the room.” She turned and fixed her gaze upon her brother, the duke. “And I know precisely whom we should send.”

Five minutes later, Archibald watched from around the corner as the Duke of Trevissick strode up to the door and knocked. It swung open. He couldn’t hear what the butler said, but the duke’s outraged response echoed down the street.

“Not a good time? What do you mean, it’s not a good time? I sent a note over yesterday, informing Mr. Milner that I would call upon him this afternoon.”

Archibald heard a mumbled reply from the butler.

“You mean to tell me that you didn’t receive my note? I would have thought that a man with aspirations toward being prime minister could manage to organize something as simple as his household. I see that this is sadly not the case.” He raised his nose in the air and sneered. It was an expression that would have looked patently ridiculous on anyone else Archibald knew but somehow looked natural on the duke’s angular face. “Well, go and tell your master that if he wants me to sponsor the Forgery of Foreign Bills Act in the House of Lords, he had better find five minutes to speak to me right now.”

Again, Archibald couldn’t hear the servant’s reply, but the duke was admitted to the house.

“He’s so good at acting pompous!” Lucy whispered.

“He isn’t acting,” Ceci and Diana hissed in unison.

A moment later, the duke’s voice was audible through a window on the house’s corner. “Yes, I would like a drink.” He was speaking loudly, as they had planned, so they could stay abreast of what was going on inside. The group hurried to stand beneath the window. Archibald heard it clearly as the duke asked, “Do you happen to have a 1795 Rausan-Segla? No? Well, try to find something that isn’t swill.”

After a few minutes, the duke said, voice dripping with sarcasm, “Mr. Milner, how kind of you to grace me with your company.”

“I apologize, Your Grace. But this is not the absolute best time.”

The duke hmphed . Archibald didn’t want to risk peeking through the window, but he could picture Trevissick surging to his feet with a condescending glower. “Then I suppose it also isn’t the absolute best time for me to co-sponsor the Forgery of Foreign Bills Act in the House of Lords. Thank you for helping me see that. Good day.”

“You’re considering co-sponsoring the bill?” Milner asked.

“Well, I was .”

“Wait—please, Your Grace. I suppose I can spare just a few minutes…”

“Let’s go,” Harrington hissed.

Archibald nodded to Ceci and Elissa, who were to listen beneath the window. Everyone else scurried around to the back of the house.

The back door came into view, and the group paused. “Should we just go barging in?” Lucy asked.

“Yes, precisely,” Lady Griselda said, shouldering her way to the front of the group. “ Komm , Inge.”

She yanked open the door and strode through. The rest of the group streamed in after her.

A footman appeared at the top of the servants’ stairs, bearing a bottle of wine on a silver tray. He paused, clearly flummoxed by the sight of two dozen well-dressed strangers and one dog striding in through the servants’ entrance.

“You can’t just barge in here!” the footman cried.

Archibald stepped forward, fists raised with the intention of knocking the man insensible before he could raise the alarm, but Morsley laid his hand upon his shoulder. “Wait, Thorpe.” The earl’s face was earnest as he said, “I should be the one to punch him.”

The footman’s eyes darted from Archibald to Morsley, full of alarm.

“I’m a peer, you see,” Morsley continued. “If it comes down to an assault charge, they would try me in the House of Lords. I’ll have an easy go of it there.”

“You realize discussing this does not make things better!” Mr. Daubney snapped. “It only makes the assault premeditated.”

“Fine,” Archibald grumbled, ignoring the Runner. “I suppose you can be the one to do it.”

Morsley squeezed Archibald’s shoulder, then rounded on the footman, fists raised. Like most footmen, this fellow was around six feet tall and broad of shoulder. Still, he did not seem to relish the idea of being punched by the hulking giant that was Lord Morsley.

“Wait!” he cried. “There’s no need to hit me!”

Morsley loomed over him. “Isn’t there?”

“No, m’lord!” The footman set the tray down on a sideboard so he could hold up both hands. “I’ll just sit over there in the corner. You won’t hear a peep out of me, I promise!”

“All right, then.” Morsley pointed a stern finger at him. “But you’d better not make a sound.”

They left Morsley with six of Archibald’s men to guard the back entrance. Lady Griselda gave Inge another whiff of Izzie’s chemise. “ Such ,” she whispered.

Inge paused, then headed toward the front of the house. The group tiptoed after her.

As they made their way toward the front stairs, a door opened, and a maid emerged. She gasped, hand flying to her heart.

Archibald froze. He couldn’t let her sound the alarm, but his every instinct revolted at the notion of striking a woman.

He had just resolved that he would clap his hand over her mouth when Lady Thetford rushed over and gave her a conspiratorial wink.

“Shh!” the viscountess whispered. “It’s a surprise!”

“A… a surprise?” the maid whispered back.

“Yes! For Mr. Milner.” The viscountess, who admittedly didn’t much look like a criminal miscreant in her frilly pink dress, hooked her arm through the maid’s elbow. “Come with me. I’ll explain everything.”

Archibald shot her a grateful look, and they hurried on.

They reached the front entrance. Abruptly, Inge put her head down. Whereas she had been meandering about sniffing the air before, now she trotted up the stairs with resolution in her steps.

As he rounded the banister, Archibald could hear the Duke of Trevissick droning on about the Forgery of Foreign Bills Act from the corner parlor. He hurried up the stairs on tiptoes.

Inge led them up two flights and down a corridor. Two men stood flanking the room at the end of the hall.

“What the hell!” one shouted, seeing Lady Griselda and the dog.

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.”

She was sobbing into his neck. “I was so afraid.”

“ I was so afraid,” he said, voice trembling. “Are you hurt?”

“No,” she said, giving a great sniff. “Just terrified. How on earth did you find me?”

“That was thanks to Inge.” Archibald gestured behind him.

“Inge? Who is…” Izzie glanced over his shoulder, and her eyes flared with comprehension. “Oh, one of the pointers! Of course.” Her eyes sharpened, and she clung to his arms. “You’ll never believe who was behind all of this! It didn’t have a thing to do with the guns being stolen from the Navy. It was—”

“Andrew Milner,” Archibald said along with her.

“Yes! How did you know?”

“Fauconbridge recognized this as his address, and Diana and Lucy recalled that you had seen him in the dark walks.”

“It was the same man who tried to kidnap me while I was on my way to Nettlethorpe Iron. The one who tried to drag me into the carriage. He somehow sneaked into the house. He grabbed me from behind and put a gun to my throat. And then…”

Izzie proceeded to explain how he had forced her to gag herself, pulled a giant floppy bonnet over her head, and taken her straight out the window. “Then he marched me across the square with his gun digging into my ribs. He tied me up in here, and that was when Andrew Milner came in and explained that by this time tomorrow, I would be on a ship of convicts bound for New South Wales.” Izzie shook her head. “I can’t believe he was willing to resort to all of this to save his political reputation.”

Andrew Milner’s reputation was the least of his worries. He had just crossed one of the wealthiest men in England. Archibald was prepared to hire an army of barristers to make sure he spent the rest of his life rotting away in a dank cell.

He’d better hope he never got out of gaol. He needed those thick stone walls for his own protection. Because if he ever met Archibald in a dark alley, he was going to discover the true meaning of pain.

Archibald decided not to mention any of this. Izzie had already been through enough of an ordeal today. “Are you well enough to stand?”

“I am. And I’m eager to leave this place.”

He helped Izzie up. She was immediately enveloped in a bear hug by her very relieved twin, followed closely by the rest of her family. After taking a moment to lavish praise and ear scratches upon Inge, Izzie was ready to depart.

They tromped down the stairs, this time taking no pains to be silent. Locating Andrew Milner proved to be a simple task, as the Duke of Trevissick was still lecturing him in a loud voice.

Mr. Milner, a sallow man with wheat-colored hair, blanched as Archibald strode through the door. He lunged toward a connecting door on the far side of the room, but the duke had the sword he wore at his waist out in a flash and held it against Mr. Milner’s neck. “You, sir, are not going anywhere.”

The rest of the party streamed into the room behind Archibald. Izzie seized his arm. “That’s him!” she cried, pointing toward the butler, who was cowering in the corner with a silver tray bearing a bottle of wine. “That’s the man who kidnapped me today and the one who slapped me across the face.”

The butler wheeled around, sending the contents of his tray flying. He hurried toward a door in the corner, but Lady Griselda, who was the closest to him, managed to grab the back of his coat. He spun back around, raising the silver tray to strike her over the head.

Archibald was across the room in two strides. His fist connected with the blackguard’s eye, and the man went down in a heap.

Archibald hovered over his inert body, fists at the ready. After a moment, Harrington peered over his shoulder. “I, uh… I think you finished him.”

“Is he dead?” Lady Diana asked hopefully.

Harrington bent down and checked for a pulse. “No such luck.”

“More’s the pity,” the duke sneered from across the room, where he was still holding Andrew Milner at sword point.

Harrington clapped a hand on Archibald’s shoulder. “You can stand down now.”

“I’m waiting for him to wake up,” Archibald said tightly.

Harrington tilted his head. “May I ask why?”

Archibald cut him a look that said, Isn’t it obvious? “So I can hit him again!”

Harrington shook his head sadly, patting Archibald’s shoulder. “I’m afraid you finished him in one.”

Archibald turned, glaring at Andrew Milner. “I don’t suppose you’d like to make any sudden moves? Perhaps lunge at me with a knife?” His voice was low and menacing as he added, “I would be extremely glad to have an excuse to hit you .”

Milner’s eyes were showing more white than blue. “I think I’ll pass,” he said in a reedy voice.

Izzie came over and tugged at one of his raised fists. “It’s all right, Archibald. It’s over now.” The smile she gave him was tiny, but he was relieved to see that it reached her eyes. “Let’s go home.”