Chapter 36

Chapter Thirty-Six

A little after dawn, Xenia stood with Gigi in the entrance hall. The Blackwoods' bags were packed and waiting in the carriage, and Gigi was dressed for travel.

"Are you certain I can't stay, Xenia?" Gigi's countenance was anxious. "I don't like the idea of leaving you alone."

Although Xenia was touched, she shook her head. "You must go with your family. Your job is to rescue Ethan."

Gigi slid a disgruntled look at the rest of her kin, who came to join them.

"My job will be to wait at the inn while the rest of them free my brother," she said sulkily. "I might as well be here and keep you company."

Xenia didn't want the young woman anywhere near the property when her mama came. "You need to be safe," she said firmly.

"Are you certain you will be all right, Mrs. Wood?" Lord Blackwood studied her. "I share Gigi's concerns, but in the event your mama is watching, we must give the appearance of following her instructions to the letter."

Earlier, Xenia had told the cook, footmen, and maids that, as a reward for their excellent service, the master had given them three days off. Everyone had seemed elated at the prospect and didn't waste time vacating the premises. In case the manor was being monitored, the guards had been instructed to depart as well. Half would meet up with the Blackwoods and assist in freeing Ethan; the other half was to monitor the manor discreetly from afar. At the first sign of trouble, they would swoop in and help to capture Lady Jo and her gang.

"Hopefully, Ethan's old retainers will have found the constable and conveyed our plan," Lady Blackwood added. "Help will be on the way."

Rawlins and his men were to serve as additional reinforcements. Like the guards, the constables were to surveil the manor while lying low.

"According to Owen's reconnaissance, the abandoned farmhouse where they are keeping Ethan is only a few miles away," Lord Blackwood said. "Once we free Ethan, we will return straightaway."

"I will be fine." Xenia managed a smile. "The only thing that matters is Ethan's well-being."

"That is not the only thing, my dear."

To her surprise, Lady Blackwood pulled her into a hug. The maternal gesture swelled Xenia's throat. She had to blink away tears as the other's warmth engulfed her.

Releasing her, the marchioness said softly, "You are more than your past, Xenia. You chose to be more—to be the woman my son fell in love with. Do not doubt yourself, for Ethan never would."

The Blackwoods left. Although she was alone, Xenia did not feel that way. Ethan's family had bolstered her courage, and as she looked around the empty manor, she felt the support of another presence as well. It reminded her that she was the housekeeper: she had given Bottoms House care and attention, and now it would give her what she needed.

She straightened her shoulders, giving a nod.

"You're right," she said. "This is my home. And I will not go down without a fight."

Xenia spent the day setting up reinforcements. She'd learned a thing or two from the years spent under her mama's thumb. Her knowledge of the house gave her an advantage, which she utilized to the fullest. She hated undoing the work that had been done, but the manor could be fixed up again whereas she had only one shot at survival. After she was done setting traps and compiling weapons, she tidied up and left everything looking as it had before. Her housekeeping skills had come a long way, after all.

She spent what extra time she had looking for the stolen goods. She checked all the attic rooms, including the one where the bats had been, and even went to look in the coal cellar. She found nothing. A feeling niggled at her…as if she were forgetting something, but for the life of her, she didn't know what it was.

By the time dusk was seeping through the windows, she still hadn't found anything resembling treasure. Thank heavens for the Blackwoods' plan. By now, Lady Jo ought to have left the farmhouse to come here. Knowing her, she would travel with most of her pack, leaving behind a few men to guard Ethan. If things were going as planned, the Blackwoods would have made their move, and Ethan might already be safe.

Xenia clung to that hope even as the doorbell rang.

Inhaling, she went to open it.

Lady Jo swept in like the mistress of the manor. She wore a frock of forest-green velvet, her braided hair wound like a crown on the top of her head. She'd brought eleven lackeys with her, all armed to the teeth…figuratively speaking, as the brutes were missing most of their pearly whites.

"Good evening, daughter mine," Lady Jo said grandly. "Do you have my jewels?"

"Yes, Mama." Xenia managed to keep her voice even. "If I show you where they are, what is my guarantee that you will set Ethan free?"

"There are no guarantees in life, dear heart." Lady Jo pulled a pistol from her skirts, pointing it at Xenia. "Except for the consequences if you cross me. Now show me the loot, girl, and be quick about it."

Her heart thumping, Xenia prayed that she could buy enough time for the reinforcements to arrive.

"Follow me," she said.

Taking cover behind a hedgerow, Ethan spotted the two waiting wagons parked outside the manor, each handled by a driver. At the farmhouse where he'd been held, he'd counted fifteen cutthroats in addition to Lady Jo. Even minus the two who'd been left to watch him—those bastards were in custody, thanks to his family's rescue efforts—that still left a sizeable number of enemies to deal with.

"In addition to the two parked out front, there are eleven brutes inside," Ethan said in a low voice. "Plus Lady Jo. Rawlins, take your men through the back. My team will take the front. The priority is finding Mrs. Wood and keeping her safe. Is that understood?"

"Yes, my lord," Rawlins replied. "Eyes sharp, men."

The constable and his team kept under the cover of hedges as they made their way behind the house.

Ethan addressed his group. "Papa and Mama, keep watch out here. If the enemy tries to escape with Xenia, stop them."

"You may depend upon us, dearest," Mama said.

A pistol glinted in her gloved hand. While she'd always been vague about how she'd acquired certain skills, Papa had told him and his siblings in confidence that she was a wartime heroine.

"James, Owen, and the rest of the guards are with me," Ethan said tersely. "We'll subdue the drivers first to prevent them from alerting the others?—"

The sound of gunfire jolted him. Xenia. His heart thudding, he sprinted toward the house. His approach startled the drivers, who raised their pistols, but he got a shot off first, catching one in the shoulder. Ferris picked off the other.

"I'll take care of these two," the guard shouted. "Go on, my lord."

Ethan ran to the house, shouldering open the door. His jaw slackened as he took in the chaos and destruction. A brute lay groaning on the cracked marble floor, trapped under the heavy chandelier. Another was holding on for dear life near the top of the stairs, having fallen through a collapsed step. Yet another ruffian was unconscious, sprawled near the base of the staircase. He looked like he'd slipped and taken a nasty tumble down the steps; the soles of his shoes looked slick…with butter?

"This is absolute mayhem," James muttered. "And what the devil is a chicken doing in here?"

The silver-grey hen that wandered by looked equally confused.

As the guards tied up the moaning villains, Ethan sprinted to the drawing room. The door was open, and when he entered, something wet dripped onto his cheek. He looked up and saw an empty bucket suspended by a pulley. He wiped off the droplet, sniffing it.

Linseed oil?

Terrified cries came from the corridor. Ethan and his brothers watched as two brutes in flames ran past the doorway, yelling at the top of their lungs. An instant later, a ruffian came running from the other direction, chased by a furious Brutus, who squawked angrily, attacking with his beak and spurs.

James raised his brows. "Is Mrs. Wood responsible for all this?"

They hurried into the morning room. There, a cutthroat lay unconscious: the large bump on his head looked to be caused by one of the round brown objects scattered around him.

When Owen picked up one of the lumpy projectiles, it looked oddly familiar.

"Where did Mrs. Wood find all these rocks?" he asked.

Recognition dawned. "Those aren't rocks," Ethan said. "Those are her buns."

"Well, she's creative," Owen murmured. "You have to grant her that."

Pride swelled in Ethan. "That's my housekeeper."

In case she needed rescuing, however, he dashed off to find her.

Panting, Xenia hurried through the servants' corridor. She could hear the mayhem on the other side of the wall; her traps were working. She'd managed to give her mama the slip—literally. The butter-coated floorboards had sent her parent crashing into a wall, giving her enough time to dash into Ethan's bedchamber. From there, she'd taken the hidden passageway. It wouldn't take long for her mama to figure out where she'd gone, but at least she had a head start.

On the ground floor, she thought she heard sounds of fighting, and hope knocked against her ribs. Had Rawlins's men arrived…was Ethan safe? She decided to take a risk and check. Arriving at the library, she pressed her ear against the panel. When the room seemed unoccupied, she tried to open the panel—one thing the Hirschfields hadn't gotten around to fixing—and succeeded after several jiggles.

The library remained untouched. She crossed the room to the door; taking a breath, she cracked it open and peered into the corridor. She saw figures grappling at the far end of the hallway…it looked like Rawlins and one of her mama's men.

Help is here.

With a surge of optimism, she looked around and grabbed a heavy volume, intending to throw it at Rawlins's attacker. Yet as she stepped into the hallway, a shot rang out. Rawlins crumpled to the ground. Her mother stood there, smoking pistol in hand.

"Enough games, daughter," Lady Jo hissed. "I'm going to make you pay for your misbehavior."

Xenia ducked back into the library. She managed to get the key in the door, locking it an instant before her mother started pounding on it. She dragged a chair in front of the door as well but knew she hadn't bought herself much time.

"Let me in, you ungrateful wretch!" her mama yelled.

Heart thrashing, Xenia dashed for the servants' corridor…but the panel wouldn't open. The dratted thing was jammed. She tried and tried and couldn't yank it free.

Blooming hell.

The door shook in its frame, Lady Jo ordering her lackeys to break it down. Xenia darted around the room, looking for an escape. There wasn't time to break one of the windows…

Go and hide where I showed you. The male voice from her dream filled her head. She held onto it like a lifeline as it gave her directions. You know how to get in. Ashes raining from walls, a voice coming through a wall of brick…

Suddenly, Xenia remembered.

She ran toward the mahogany cabinet. It was heavy, but she just needed to move it enough so that she could squeeze behind it and hide—in the fireplace. Grabbing one side of the cabinet, she nudged it a small distance from the wall. Dashing to the other side, she evened the distance so that the cabinet's placement would not betray her hiding place.

Exhaling, she squeezed herself into the narrow alley she'd created between the cabinet and the fireplace. She twisted, lowering herself into the fireplace opening and fitting herself inside the little cavern as the door yielded with a loud crack.

"Find her." Lady Jo's voice filled the library. "She's in here somewhere."

As boots thumped on the floor, Xenia curled deeper into her hiding place.

Hurry, Ethan, she prayed. Find me.

The voice that answered was his but not his.

Don't be afraid, my love. Darkness can be a sanctuary.

She felt a ghostly touch against her hand. It guided her fingers over the brick surface of the firebox, fitting them to a subtle indentation. She pressed…and a faint click sounded. She felt something shift behind her…a new opening? A side of the firebox had swung open to reveal a hole just large enough for her to squeeze through. She slipped inside the secret refuge and closed the panel behind her, sealing herself in darkness.

Don't come out until I tell you it is safe.