A Code of Love (The Code Breakers 1) (29 page)

“What have you told Uncle Charles?”

“I’ve told him nothing. He’s been in the study all morning. I thought it best for you to decide.”

“I believe that without answers, it’s best to not to tell him.” Her voice got wobbly. She couldn’t bear to think of Uncle Charles’ reaction to Edward’s disappearance. The boy and her uncle were inseparable.

She climbed the stairs. Her terror for her younger brother, alone and frightened, grew with each step.

Brompton spoke from the foyer, his voice excited. “Lady Henrietta, a note has come for you. It was brought ’round to the servant’s entrance by a street urchin.”

She turned and descended quickly. Tearing at the seal, she read the note. In exchange for the codebook, Edward would be returned.

She didn’t know if she could face this new threat alone. The remembrance of Cord’s tender lovemaking bolstered her resolve. She wasn’t alone. Cord would help her rescue Edward. “I must go immediately. Bring Minotaur around.”

“Please let me go with you or at least wait until Tom can accompany you.”

“No, Brompton, I must go alone. The note is very clear. And time is of the essence.”

“
Come alone, don’t tell anyone…”
Exactly like the message from Isabelle.

With a false bravado, she instructed Brompton as if she were in control, not seconds away from shattering. “When Lord Rathbourne arrives, give him the note. Tell him I’ve gone to the boathouse at the Serpentine.”

Henrietta hurried to her room and retrieved her uncle’s pistol.

Returning downstairs again, she mounted her horse and galloped toward Hyde Park. She nudged Minotaur between two wagons at a busy intersection, teeming with the daily business of keeping the great houses of Mayfair functioning.

She needed to stay focused on the task at hand, armed with the codebooks, a loaded pistol, and a very shaky plan to face a murderer. Her plan was simple: negotiate, give him the codebook, and pray until Cord arrived to deal with the murderer. If Cord didn’t arrive in time, what would she do? There was no question in her mind that she would save Edward, no matter what the cost. She wasn’t going to let anyone hurt her brother. She looked back at the busy crossroad, wondering if the enemy shadowed her.

Chapter Thirty-Four

Henrietta entered the Curzon Gate, following the same route she had taken to meet Isabelle. Hyde Park was busy with the daily parade of fashionable people, here despite the gloomy skies of an approaching storm. How strange to have daily routines continue as her deadly drama unfolded.

She pointed Minotaur to the north side of the lake. Black angry clouds gathered portending a downpour. She shivered in the chilly air and in apprehension. The meeting was at the public boathouse in the middle of the day. Why hadn’t anyone seen Edward’s abduction?

She slowed her pace when she approached the decrepit wood cabin where the boats were stored. Birdsong lightened the heavy silence. She pulled Minotaur to the mounting block and dismounted. She patted the pistol again—she knew it was dangerous to have a loaded pistol tucked into her riding skirt, but so was this entire enterprise.

The place looked deserted—no boaters, no attendants. The door to the boathouse was ajar. She glanced behind her. She couldn’t shake the feeling that someone followed, watching her every move. She pushed the heavy door farther open. It creaked when she put her weight to it. Fear surged through her like a brush fire.

“Come in, Henrietta. I’ve been waiting for you,” The Duke of Wycliffe said.

She couldn’t believe a man of his position was a traitor or would kidnap her brother.

He remained obscured in the shadows. The room smelled of mustiness and the mold of wet cushions.

She stepped farther into the boathouse, her thundering heart the only sound in the small space. A cracked, dusty window gave scant light. She was shocked by the changes in him since the ball. He was dirty and disheveled. But more ominously, he was desperate and dangerous. She could smell his anxiety. His pupils were dilated as if he burned with a fever.

“Ah, I see you’re surprised. I wondered if you or Rathbourne had guessed my role in this intrigue. I’ve overestimated both of you.” His laugh echoed in the void. “Who could imagine your scholarly brother could create such a crisis? Did you bring the damn book?”

“Where is Edward? I won’t give you the book until you release Edward.”

He stepped closer to her in the dim light. The shadows contorted his agitation, his once handsome face now grotesque. “My darling Henrietta.” He lifted her chin with one icy finger. “So fierce. I regret that I didn’t seduce you when I had the chance.”

She gasped and pulled away. “Where have you taken Edward? Give me my brother and I’ll give you the book.”

He grabbed her hand and pulled her against his clammy body. “You believe you can barter with me?” His putrid breath blew across her face. He cupped her breast tightly. “So sweet.”

Outrage coursed through her body. “Stop it. Where is my brother?”

Beads of perspiration beat down his forehead. “Haven’t you heard what happened to Isabelle? She failed me.” He paused, letting his words take effect.

“I’ll give you whatever you want, but let my brother go.” She spoke calmly, not wanting to further bait him.

“The day grows more interesting,” His tone became menacing. “Give me the book, and I’ll consider your fate and that of your brother.”

“I have it right here.” She reached slowly into her reticule. “Yes, right here,” she mumbled, trying to delay him.

He grabbed the purse out of her hands. “What plan are you concocting in that clever brain?” He opened the bag and took out the book. He threw the empty reticule back at her.

“What will you do with the book?” she asked.

“Not decipher secret messages, if that’s what you think.” His laugh was harsh.

He pulled out his pistol and waved it at her. “Enough idle chatter. It’s time.”

“Edward! Where is he?” Primal fear blasted through body.

“Did you notice the boat? You’re going to be joining your brother.”

She froze in panic, her knees locked. Had he drowned Edward? She mustn’t give in to the fear if there was a chance to save Edward.

He pressed the gun to her back. “No tricks or you’ll never see your brother.”

Henrietta moved slowly, weighing her options as her heart beat a frenzied tattoo. She knew she must play along until she found Edward then she would use the gun in her pocket.

He thrust the gun into her back. “Keep going.”

She moved outside, surveying the bushes. Where was Cord?

A ferocious sound pierced the silent woods, then a blur of yellow fur catapulted through the air. The impact of the four-stone dog aiming straight at his chest, knocked the Duke of Wycliffe to the ground. He dropped his gun.

Henrietta seized the pistol and pointed it at the prone man.

Gus had his paws on the duke’s chest, his sharp canines bared. She was grateful for Gus’ growl and intimidating posture. “Good boy, Gus.”

“Henrietta?” Cord ran down the path toward the bathhouse. “Thank God.”

She wanted to run into Cord’s arms but kept her position over the duke. Her nervousness caused her to chatter. “He killed Isabelle. He has Edward hidden. I was to go with him by boat.”

Cord took the pistol out of her hand, kicked Wycliffe with the toe of his boot. “Get up.”

Wycliffe stood, brushing the dirt from his breeches.

Gus sat next to Henrietta and began a slow, insistent whine. She patted the broad head of the dog. “It’s okay. We’ll find Edward.”

Wycliffe sneered. “Rathbourne, I’m sorry you had to discover our little tête-à-tête. But let me assure you, Henrietta was pleased with me.”

Cord lashed out and smashed the duke in the face. There was a cracking sound of breaking bones.

Wycliffe fell sideways and reached down to pull a knife from his boot. “I’m going to kill you.” He plunged the dagger at Cord.

Henrietta pulled her pistol out of her pocket and tried to take aim. She couldn’t get a clean shot off without possibly hitting Cord.

Parrying the duke’s thrust, Cord dodged the knife. Wycliffe lunged forward, the knife pointed at Cord’s heart. Gus lowered himself to the ground ready to attack Wycliffe. She grabbed him by the collar to prevent him from getting caught in the fight. She kept her gun aimed on the fighting men with one hand while her other hand held Gus in place.

Cord leaned backward, barely avoiding the knife aimed at his chest. He twisted his torso, kicking the knife out of Wycliffe’s hand with a swift jerk. He pulled the hammer back on the duke’s pistol and aimed at Wycliffe’s chest.

“Cord, don’t kill him. He has Edward.”

Cord barked. “Get away from here, Henrietta.”

There was a rustle of noise from the bushes. “I’m sorry to interrupt the fun.”

“Lucien?” Henrietta stared at the pistol the comte held in his hand.

Henrietta stepped forward with her pistol aimed back at the comte. “Are you part of this—kidnapping my brother?”

Lucien didn’t appear fazed by her or Cord’s pistol. He walked calmly into the clearing. “I’m not part of the kidnapping, but I know where he took your brother.”

“You bastard.” Wycliffe sneered.

“Please, Lucien. Tell me,” she begged.

“Damn it, Henrietta, get behind me.” Cord kept his gun pointed at Wycliffe and grabbed her by the arm to push her behind him.

“I need to find my brother. Lucien, please tell me where my brother is.”

“Give me the book.” Lucien kept his gun pointed at her.

“You fool. Fouché will never release your sister.” Wycliffe gave a chilling chortle. “He’s probably killed her already.”

Lucien stepped closer and pointed his gun at Wycliffe’s heart. “Unlike Rathbourne, you’re no use to me alive.”

“Go ahead. If you don’t kill me, Fouché will. Fouché will kill us both,” Wycliffe said.

“Henrietta, keep your gun on the duke.” Cord turned his pistol on Lucien. “Drop the gun.”

Lucien fired at Wycliffe’s chest.

The duke fell backward, blood immediately covering his shirt. His face contorted in agony. “You bastard.”

Wycliffe fell to the ground with his eyes open. His chest rattled with one last motion.

Lucien stared at the duke. “It’s all been for nothing. Fouché will never release my sister and I’m a dead man.” A report echoed from the woods into the quiet space. Lucien suddenly fell forward onto the dead duke, a gaping hole in his back from an unknown attacker.

Cord tackled Henrietta to the ground. Her breath was knocked clear out of her, her face pressed into the dust. Cord’s weight on top of her didn’t allow any movement or any breath. She panted.

“Stay down. Someone fired from the bushes.” Cord lifted himself off of her and crawled on his stomach toward the lake. Gus followed Cord.

“Cord, be careful,” she cried.

“Stay down until I signal it’s safe.” With his pistol in his hand, he proceeded toward the sound of the shot.

She couldn’t get the air to move into her lungs. Panic skittered up and down her spine. The dead bodies of both men lay a few feet from her. Her heart pumped frantically. She wanted to scream, to run. Instead, she rolled to her side and searched for her gun. She waited on her side with her gun pointed at the woods.

Cord returned from the bushes with Gus close behind. “The shooter has fled through the undergrowth. The recent rain has made it easy to see his footprints.”

“I’ve got to find Edward.”

Cord reached down and took her hands. “We’ll find him.” He pulled her into his arms and held her tight. She hugged him around his waist, breathing his clean smell and leaning into his warm strength.

“What is that sound?” Cord asked.

Gus stood next to the boat in the water and whined in a pitiful way. “It’s Gus. He’ll lead us to Edward!”

She took hold of Cord’s hand. She needed to stay connected to him.

Cord squeezed back, his heat seeping into her cold hand.

“Gus, find Edward,” she said.

Gus ran back and forth between the lake and the boathouse, his nose to the ground, howling an unsettling cry.

“Edward must be close,” he said.

“You don’t think Wycliffe harmed Edward?” Her voice, like her entire body, shook.

“There would be no reason for Wycliffe to kill Edward. I’m sure we’ll find Edward none the worse for his adventure.” He pulled her close against him. His confidence and soothing voice calmed the panic whispering along her skin.

Gus ran ahead, nose to the path, howling an eerie lament, for the lost Edward.

Behind Gus, they hurried through the bushes on the overgrown path that skirted the lake. She clung to Cord’s hand, although the brush became so thick they had to proceed single file.

Gus ran through the bushes then started to bark frantically.

“Gus must have found Edward.”

Cord turned and put his fingers to her lips to warn her to be quiet. He whispered. “Let me go first to make sure there is no one guarding Edward.”