Page 70 of Lady Charlotte and the Lending Library
Cecil pulled a flintlock from his greatcoat pocket and handed it to Ashford. He smiled apologetically to Nathaniel. “It is my only spare.”
“What is the plan?” William asked in a whisper. “How do we save my sister?”
“By sheer numbers,” Ashford replied.
“That’s it?!” William demanded, his voice rising.
Cecil responded, “That is our only choice. The Cheesecake House is some distance off, so there are no structures or trees to hide behind as we approach Landry and his accomplice. There will be no element of surprise.”
A thought came to him. “Have you seen Lord Meers?”
“There is a body next to the lake near where Landry has Charlotte. It is hard to distinguish who it is in the darkness, but I believe it is Lord Meers.”
Ashford shuddered. The man had been a fool to trust James Landry and his ilk. Despite his dislike of the viscount, he’d never wished him dead.
“We have to assume that neither Landry nor his lackey wants to die tonight,” Cecil said grimly, pulling another pistol from his greatcoat. “The man knows I’m a crack shot. It may be hard for you to do, Ashford, but you must allow me to set my sights on Landry.”
He'd seen Cecil in action and knew he was a far better shot than himself. “Agreed, Cecil. Let’s get on with it.”
Ashford walked beside the viscount; Nathaniel and William followed behind. The night air was bracing, the scent of wet mud and grass surrounded them.
Their party made little noise as they walked to the left of the gravel pathway, their footfalls muffled by the lush grass beneath their feet. He’d had no thought to change back into boots, and his dancing pumps were now soaking wet.
A brilliant idea came to him. There was one card he could play to save Charlotte. Landry would have no choice but to release the lady.
Clouds in the dark sky above shifted, allowing wan moonlight to illuminate the scene before them. Not ten yards ahead, a black horse stood, a man in a familiar green cloak holding its leads. Landry stood over Charlotte, who was seated on the ground. From that distance Ashford could see no visible signs the lady had been harmed.
Landry and his man turned their heads as if one.
“Well, well,” Landry said heartily, his voice booming. “We have visitors, my lady.”
Ashford quickly noted the position of the two men facing him. The lackey had a pistol in his right hand as the man’s left hand secured Landry’s horse. The horse was behind the cloaked man and offered no cover. Landry had his right hand in the pocket of his long coat, his left hand hidden from view.
Cecil halted not ten yards from Landry’s party. The viscount whispered, “Stay behind us, Nathaniel, William. If we go down, Charlotte will need you.”
Ashford met Charlotte’s gaze. She had a rag stuffed in her mouth, but he could see no visible injuries. He let out a deep breath and relaxed his shoulders, willing the rage he felt at Landry and his accomplice for holding Charlotte to leave him. The next few minutes could well be the most important of his life.
* * * * *
Charlotte couldn’t believe her eyes. Lord Ashford had found her, and he wasn’t alone. William and Baron Harbury stood behind Ashford and Lord Cecil. She felt relief course through her. Surely Landry and his man wouldn’t try to take on all four men facing them.
“Is that the body of Lord Meers lying by the lake?” Ashford asked her captors.
“He outlived his usefulness,” Landry replied with an exaggerated sigh. He flicked a look at the man in the green cloak. “It seems Lord Meers had second thoughts about what I have planned for Lady Charlotte, so he had to be disposed of.”
She felt a chill go down her spine at Landry’s words. Lord Meers was dead. Was she to be the next to die?
“It looks as if you came here prepared for violence,” Landry said calmly into the eerie silence.
“As did you and your partner,” Lord Cecil replied with a shrug. He raised his arm and aimed a pistol at Landry’s chest. “You know my proficiency with firearms.”
Landry chuckled. “I admit to having lost quite a considerable amount of money betting against you.” He stepped away from Charlotte, pulled a pistol from his coat pocket, and pointed it at her head.
She froze, afraid to move. Afraid to speak. Her gaze caught Ashford’s. He raised his weapon and pointed it at the cloaked man holding Landry’s horse.
“If you harm one hair on Lady Charlotte’s head,” Ashford said gravely, “I will enact the same brutality on your wife and daughter.”
“Would you? I doubt you could find my family. Nevertheless, I don’t believe you have the stomach to harm an innocent young woman.” Landry spoke coolly, his expression one of boredom.
