Loving a Fearless Duchess: A Historical Regency Romance Book(82)

Penelope sat and listened. Her head was swimming down at the bottom of the ocean. She couldn’t think. The water was so much thicker than the air. Things were coming into her head slowly. She was having trouble keeping up. She just needed to stay alert and stick to the plan.

She was still gagged, and even if she were not, she wouldn’t say anything. She didn’t know what might set him off.

Penelope looked over at the table again. She wished she could take a better look at the tools without Henry noticing. If he knew of one she was looking at closely, he would probably use it on her.

“I’m having such fun trying to decide which tool I should start with while I’m watching you squirm. So many times, I’ve been around you Penelope, and I haven’t been in charge. I need this.

“Oops. I left the saw by the woodpile. Be right back.”

As soon as the door slammed shut behind him, Penelope jumped up, leaving the rope she had cut while in the bedroom on the chair. She ran to the kitchen table and picked up the axe. She didn’t want to use a little knife or some contraption that screwed open and shut; she wanted to wield something substantial.

She gripped the axe and took a practice swing with it. She liked the weight.

Penelope stood against the wall next to the door taking off her gag. She didn’t have to think whether or not she should do it. She knew she had to do it, and she was at peace with it.

The door began to open, and she set herself, her feet apart, and the axe at her waist. As soon as she saw him, she swung. She didn’t give him a chance to see her. He wasn’t looking for her there. She was supposed to be sitting in a chair in the middle of the room.

The axe connected with Henry’s chest. His eyes grew large, and he looked up at her, confused. When Penelope looked at the axe, the tip was embedded a good six inches into the middle of his chest. Blood was beginning to flow at a faster pace than at first.

Henry dropped. Unfortunately for him, he dropped front side down and yelled when the axe went in further. He rolled to the side.

Penelope was through watching. Most likely, he would bleed to death. She didn’t need to stick around for that. She fled the house, still in the night-rail she put on the night before. Now, blood splattered the front in delicate drops that were too small to drip.

Without a backward glance, Penelope left the lodge and found Boney’s horse. With a little difficulty, she saddled him. She led him to a rock where she mounted him astride.

She couldn’t be caught on the open road wearing a bloody night-rail. She took the long way home.

*****

Edward, his riders, and Nash dismounted and tethered their horses. They had agreed to spread out in a semi-circle and slowly walk towards the lodge.

They heard nothing on their approach nor did they see the horse. Nash gave Edward a quizzical look.

At the door, Edward and Nash mouthed one, two, three then kicked in the door and rushed in. Nash, having gone in first, tripped over Henry and landed on the floor. Edward stopped short, staying upright.

He turned and yelled “Clear,” to his riders.

Nash turned Henry over and laughed. There was Henry, on his back with an axe sticking out of his chest.

“Penelope? Are you here? Come on out,” Nash yelled.

Edward turned back towards the door. “Search around the lodge for the Duchess.”

Nash had searched the entirety of the inside of the lodge during that same time. He stopped at the kitchen table and looked at the display.

“I’m thinking she killed him then took off on the horse,” Nash said.

Edward yelled, “Gerald.”

He was standing behind Edward, “Yes, My Lord.”

“We need to track the horse that was here. We need to know where it went.”

“Halt,” Gerald yelled. Then men froze. “Don’t move until I have a print.”

While Gerald tried to pick up tracks, Edward spoke. “Once we are cleared to move, I want you to go back to Edgewood and let everyone know Henry’s dead. We haven’t found the Duchess yet, but I suspect she’s alive, and if she is injured, her injuries are minor. We’ll be tracking her.

“If any of you see her, bring her back to Edgewood and deliver her into the hands of Lady Balfour. Then find me.”

“My Lord,” Gerald said. “I have what we need.”

“Excellent. Everyone move out,” Edward said. “Gerald, Nash, let’s move.”

Gerald bent down and showed Edward and Nash what they were going to track.

Nash was unclear. “Why would she go this way? She knew how to get to the lodge on her own, didn’t she?”

Edward said, “Yes, she did. This is the long way. I hope she’s not panicked that someone will arrest her.”

Nash prodded his horse forward. “I need to find her.”

Edward turned to Gerald. “Let’s let him go.”

Nash rode as fast as he was able on the tricky path. He had to dodge trees and take tight curves.

All the while, he yelled for her. “Penelope, stop, call out, where are you?”

Nash kept going, muttering the whole time about this path. His day had been a nightmare since the moment he approached the front door of Edgewood. He wanted it to be over.

If he felt that way, what must Penelope feel? She was kidnapped, dragged up to this lodge, who knew what was done to her? She killed a man, and now she was on horseback. He hoped she wasn’t running away. There was no need for that.