Thwock. Steel stabbing into flesh made a sickening sound.
Then, as if in slow motion, the blade fell harmlessly from the man’s lifeless fingers and his body toppled forward, landing heavily atop Saybrook’s sprawled form. The impact appeared to rouse him from his momentary stupor. Twisting out from beneath the limp limbs, he eyed the hilt of a carving knife protruding from the man’s back and expelled a ragged breath.
“Thank you,” he croaked, slowly levering to his feet.
“De rien,” muttered Arianna, wiping her red-stained fingers on the remains of her smock. “You saved my life earlier. Now we are even.”
She quirked a sardonic smile, but realized her hands were shaking uncontrollably. Clasping them to her mutilated belly, she slanted a look at the lifeless body. “Oh, merde.” Her words were barely a whisper. “Now I am really in the suds.”
Saybrook bent down and pressed a finger to the man’s throat. “The fellow is dead,” he confirmed after several long moments.
Arianna blinked. “I . . . You . . . you are hurt,” she said, eyeing his slashed trousers, the fringes of charcoal wool now black with blood.
“Just a scratch,” he replied. Sitting back on his haunches, he slowly peeled the mask from the corpse’s face.
“Merde,” she muttered again, echoing her earlier epithet. It seemed exactly the right word to sum up her sentiments.
“Do you recognize him?” he asked.
Arianna nodded grimly.
“So do I.” But before he could elaborate, the hurried thump of boots upstairs warned that all hell was about to break loose.
How long had it been since the first shot? A few minutes at most, she calculated.
“Bolt the door,” he suddenly ordered.
Arianna hesitated.
“Quickly, goddamn it! ” He rushed to the window and checked the back garden. Seemingly satisfied, he turned. “Then hide in the pantry. Don’t make a sound.”
At the moment, he seemed like the lesser of two evils, so she decided to do as she was told.
Tucking the mask in his pocket, Saybrook hurriedly retrieved the pistols and dropped them close by the body. Gritting his teeth, he yanked the knife from the dead man’s back and rolled the body over. “God forgive me,” he muttered, cutting several quick jabs into the fast-cooling flesh before lodging the blade between two ribs.
What was he doing? she wondered, casting a sidelong glance at the macabre scene.
After reordering a few of the other fallen objects, Saybrook rose awkwardly to his feet.
“Open up! Open up!” A fist pounded on the kitchen entrance, rattling the locked latch.
“I’m coming!” Glancing down at his bloodied trousers, Saybrook gave a wry grimace. “I won’t have to exaggerate my own ineptitude,” he added under his breath.
Shooting back the bolt, he flung the door open. “Don’t just stand there,” he snarled at the four guards who were staring in bewilderment at the carnage. “The chef has escaped. I tried to stop him but the damned fellow is as skilled as a butcher. You and you”—he jabbed a finger at the two closest men—“go after him. He fled through the garden. But have a care—he’s armed and dangerous.”
As the pair headed off in pursuit, Saybrook quickly turned to the remaining men.
Crouched in the darkness, Arianna listened to his orders, growing more mystified by the moment. He was saving her from the wolves. But why?
Through a crack in the door, she saw Saybrook grab the nearest man by the arm. “I want you to carry a message to Mr. Basil Henning, at number six Queen Street—and do it with all haste,” he barked. “Tell him that Lord Saybrook needs to see him immediately, but say nothing of what has happened. You are to wait and escort him back here. Understood?”
“Yes, milord!”
Milord? She frowned, feeling even more disoriented.
Saybrook waved the man on his way, and then addressed the last man. “And you are to remain with the Prince Regent. Lock yourself in his chamber, draw the curtains, and admit no one until I come and tell you otherwise.” He paused for a fraction. “Is that clear?”
The man snapped a salute.
“Go!” he ordered.
Drawing a deep breath, Saybrook waited for several long moments before approaching the pantry. He opened the door a touch more but did not enter. “I assume you have female clothing hidden in your room.”
“Yes,” answered Arianna in an equally low voice.
“Get dressed. And pack up any traces of your disguises,” he said curtly. “Be quick about it. When the moment comes, we will have to move fast. In the meantime, stay quiet as a church mouse.”
Arianna didn’t waste any time with questions. Gliding past him with quick, silent steps, she slipped into the shadows of the bedchamber.
“Who the devil are you?” he growled.
“I could ask the same of you, sir.”
He made a face. “A far more pressing question for both of us, Miss Smith, is why Major Crandall, late of the Horse Guards and Lord Grentham’s senior staff, is lying dead on the kitchen floor.”
6
Oh, how I had to laugh when I found another old journal in which the writer debated whether it was Columbus or Cortez who brought the first cacao beans to Europe. My research leads me to agree with his conclusions that Columbus had little interest in chocolate. But a far more delicious discovery was that English pirates who preyed on the Spanish treasure fleets sailing from the New World once burned an entire cargo of cacao beans, thinking they were sheep turds! Sandro will find that story greatly amusing. . . .
4 sticks unsalted butter, cut into pieces
8 ounces unsweetened chocolate, chopped
1¾ cups all-purpose flour
½ cup unsweetened cocoa powder (preferably Dutch-processed)
½ teaspoon salt
3¾ cups granulated sugar
8 large eggs
vegetable-oil cooking spray
confectioner’s sugar (optional)
1. Preheat oven to 350ºF and line 2 mini-muffin tins with liners. Spray liners with cooking spray.2. Melt butter and chocolate in a 4-quart heavy pot over moderately low heat, stirring until smooth. Whisk together flour, cocoa, and salt. Remove pan from heat and whisk in granulated sugar. Add eggs, 1 at a time, whisking after each addition until incorporated, and stir in flour mixture just until blended.3. Spoon batter into muffin liners, filling cups to top, and bake in middle of oven 25 to 30 minutes, or until a tester comes out with crumbs adhering. Cool 5 minutes in tins and turn out onto racks. Repeat with remaining batter.4. Dust with confectioner’s sugar if desired.
“This way—and quickly, damn it.” Wrapping his long fingers around her arm, Saybrook shoved her past the upturned corpse. “You moved fast as a snake earlier.”
Arianna tore her gaze from the slashed shirt linen and pooled patterns of viscous red. Bile rose in her throat but she forced down her momentary nausea with an acid retort. “For which you should be bloody thankful.”
“I’ll compose a suitably sentimental ode to your audacity later.” He inched the door open a fraction and made a rapid survey of the garden. “Let’s go.”
Ungrateful wretch.
Saybrook stumbled on the uneven gravel but quickly steadied his stride and cut through a narrow gap in the ornamental plantings. Despite the labored hitch of his gait, he moved with surprising speed. Arianna found herself hurrying to keep pace.