The Marquis and I (The Worthingtons #4)(65)

“Weren’t hard.” The lad shrugged. “I knocked on the doors, quiet-like, until a woman answered. Then I asked her name.”

He dragged his hand over his face. So much for not taking stupid risks. “What if one of the miscreants had answered the door or heard you?”

“They’re both down in the taproom.” Jemmy gave him a saucy grin.

“Very well.” Charlotte was right about the boy. “Now all we have to do is figure out a way to get her out of here.”

“Got all night for that. They ain’t”—he slid a glance at Charlotte—“I mean they aren’t coming for her till morning. I heard them say so.”

“I do not want to leave her here all night,” Charlotte said. “What if something happens and they come for her earlier? If he knows his accomplice was caught, he might have told Miss Betsy, and she will arrive as soon as she is able.”

Jemmy looked around Con to answer his mistress. “I don’t think that’ll happen, my lady. The landlady says they always get left overnight to think on their wickedness. I asked what that was, but she told me I was too young to know.”

“Wickedness!” Charlotte spat the word. “If Mrs. Crowe only knew how she was helping perpetuate wickedness.”

“There is no moon tonight. I doubt the woman would want to make a journey in the dark,” Con said, hoping to lessen Charlotte’s concerns.

“That may be true, but I shall not have Miss Cloverly frightened more than she is.” She glanced at Jemmy, her brows drawn together. “Go back downstairs and try to keep anyone from coming up. And if someone does get near the stairs, make a loud noise.”

“Yes, my lady.”

“Oh, there is one more thing,” Charlotte said. “Maisy will be bringing up the tea and water. Perhaps you can tell her that I’m resting and do not wish to be disturbed.”

“I’ll do that, my lady.”

Con watched the lad grin before he scampered down the stairs. At least someone was having a good time.

When they reached Miss Cloverly’s door, Charlotte gave him two of her hair pins, and he began trying to pick the lock.

After what seemed like several minutes, but could really only have been a few moments, she asked, “Are you sure you do not want me to try?”

“You didn’t have much luck the last time.” He knew his answer sounded surly, but they didn’t have all day, and he would make it up to her later. Not only that, but he was more than a little embarrassed that it was taking him so long to accomplish what thieves seem to do so easily.

“I’ve been practicing. I think I know the trick now.” Her tone was sweet, but he thought he detected a thread of steel beneath the honey.

“I have too.” Bloody hell. “Why the deuce is this lock so hard?”

Charlotte leaned over his shoulder. “Most likely, they have not oiled the tumblers in a while.”

What in the devil had she been up to? He eyed her suspiciously. “How do you know that?”

She gave him an exasperated look, as if he’d accused her of doing something untoward. “From my housekeeper. She saw me practicing on one of the attic doors.”

That would teach him to question her. He sat back on his haunches. “So how do we solve the problem?”

Charlotte drew out a small copper bird from her pocket.

“I thought ladies didn’t have pockets anymore. Is that a peacock?”

“I had them made, and it is an oil horn in the shape of a peacock. I borrowed it from our housekeeper.” She stuck the long beak inside the lock. “Now try it.”

“No.” It was time he stopped acting like a stupid male, as his youngest sister would say. “Please.” Con stood and handed the pins to her. “You found the solution. You shall do the honors.”

She graced him with a smile so full of joy he blinked and vowed to find ways to make her smile more often. A moment later, the tumblers clicked, and Charlotte swung the door open.

“Oh, no!” She rushed over to the young woman who’d been gagged and tied to a chair. “However were you able to answer Jemmy?” A very feminine noise answered them. The child had gone on the tone of the sounds the young woman had made. “I understand.”

While they untied Miss Cloverly, Charlotte kept up a low, steady stream of talk. “I am Lady Charlotte Carpenter. My family’s home is a few houses down from where your aunt works. This is Lord Kenilworth, my betrothed. We’ve come to save you. Other than being abducted and tied up, have they harmed you?”

This last question came as the gag fell away. “No, my lady, but I’d like to do a deal of harm to them.”

“I do not blame you at all. We were able to capture one of the blackguards.”

“I’m glad to hear it. The other one thought he got away.”

That would give them some much needed time. “He would have if it hadn’t been for one of the Great Danes,” Con added. “The dog caught him and held him down until the rest of us could get there.”

“There.” Miss Cloverly rubbed her arms, probably to get the feeling back in them. “I told my aunt they were useful. And sweet too.”

“Yes, they are,” Charlotte said with feeling. “Daisy, the female, will be having puppies soon. Perhaps you’d like one of them.”