Duke of Midnight (Maiden Lane #6)(47)

“Give me the lantern and take his head,” Maximus said to Sully, ignoring Ridley.

The first attendant looked doubtful, but he surrendered the lantern readily enough. With a grunt and a bit of swearing, both men lifted Kilbourne’s limp form.

“Weighs a bloody ton, ’e does.” Ridley spat into the straw.

“Less talk,” Maximus said softly. “If another guard comes, I won’t be needing you, will I?”

That shut up the second attendant. They made their way back down the hallway and—with more difficulty—down the staircase. Maximus watched carefully that they didn’t drop Kilbourne, but otherwise didn’t help, preferring to keep his hands free in case more guards showed up.

“Would’ve finished the job if’n I knew you was coming for ’im anyway,” Ridley muttered as they finally made the ground floor.

Maximus slowly turned his head. “You did this?”

“Aye,” Ridley said with satisfaction. “Always were mouthin’ off, th’ whoreson. ’E ’ad it comin’ to ’im, ’e did.”

Maximus looked at Kilbourne, lying near death, his face unrecognizable, and thought: No one deserved that.

“Surprised ’e lived through that first night,” Ridley mused, apparently under the impression that they were now fast friends.

“Really?” Maximus asked in a flat tone. He looked at the rows of cells they passed, the long, wide corridor, perfect for viewing the inmates, and suddenly knew what this place reminded him of: the Tower Menagerie. The humans within this place were used for the entertainment of others, exactly like the exotic animals of the menagerie… excepting that the animals were better kept.

“We gave it to ’im good, we did,” Ridley said in a voice that made Maximus’s skin crawl. “An’ if ’e ’adn’t passed out so quick, we woulda give it to ’im better, if’n you know what I mean.”

“Oh, I think I do,” Maximus growled. They were at the end of the long ground floor corridor now. “Put him down by the door.”

Sully looked at him warily, while Ridley was puzzled. “ ’Ere? ’Ow’re you going to get ’im out the door?”

“Don’t worry your head about it,” Maximus said gently, and smashed him on the temple with the butt of his sword.

Ridley slumped to the floor.

Sully threw up his arms. “Please, sir!”

“Did you take part in this?”

“No!”

Sully might’ve been lying, but Maximus hadn’t the heart to hit him in any case. The gore on Kilbourne made him sick. He bent, took Kilbourne’s right arm, and hauled the big man over his shoulder with a grunt. The man was heavy, but not as heavy as his stature should make him. Maximus could feel the bones of Kilbourne’s wrist, stark and hard. No doubt he’d lost weight in this place.

The thought made Maximus’s mood darker. “Open the door for me.”

Sully ran to do his bidding.

Maximus stepped out, but paused to look over his shoulder at Sully. “Tell Ridley and all the other guards: I’ll be back. At night, when you’re sleeping, when you least expect it. And if I find any more inmates treated as Lord Kilbourne was, then I’ll not ask questions. I’ll simply deal justice with the point of my sword. Understand?”

“Aye, sir.” Sully looked absolutely terrified.

Maximus stepped into the night.

He trotted to the gates with his burden, and slipped through. Outside lay the gardens of Moorfields and, a little way down from the main gates, a waiting horse and cart.

“Go,” Maximus muttered as he heaved Kilbourne into the bed of the cart and climbed in after.

“Are we being followed?” Craven asked as he slapped the reins.

“No, not yet, at any rate.” Maximus panted, trying to catch his breath while watching for pursuers.

“A successful job then.”

Maximus grunted, glancing at the madman. He still breathed at least. What in hell was he going to do with a fugitive from Bedlam?

Maximus shook his head at the thought and replied to Craven, “Only if Kilbourne lives.”

ARTEMIS WOKE TO a soft tap at her door. She blinked and looked around the room, for a moment, confused, until she remembered that she was in her guest room at Pelham House.

The tapping came again.

She struggled out of the warm bedcovers and shrugged into a wrapper. A glance at the window showed that it was just dawn.

Artemis cracked the door open to find a maid, already dressed for the day. “Yes?”

“Beg pardon, Miss, but there’s a messenger for you at the back door. Says he’s to speak to you and no other.”

Apollo. It must be. Trembling, Artemis found her slippers and followed the maid down the stairs and back toward the kitchens. Had Maximus found her brother? Did he still live?

The kitchens were already abustle with preparations for the day. Cooks and maids were rolling out pastry, footmen carrying silver, and a young girl carefully tended the hearth. A great table lay in the middle of the kitchens, the center of much of the food preparation, but at one end a lad sat, a cup of tea and a plate of freshly buttered bread before him. He stood as she neared, and Artemis saw that his clothes were still dusty from the road.

“Miss Greaves?”