Page 99 of Why Do Earls Fall in Love?
“Are you sure he’s not a drunkard? I should like to know what he expects to see, stretched out on the pavement?”
“What?” Charlotte moved to her side to look out.
“See? Right there. Good heavens, he must have fallen and hit his head.” Harriett sounded disapproving. “Is he bleeding?”
Charlotte whirled away and ran out to the entry hall. Alfred was there, in his nook. “The watchman is knocked out. Guard the door.” She ran to the green baize covered servant’s door, opened it and called out. “Margie! Mr. Flemming! We’ll need help!”
Harriett had followed her. “What are you waiting for, you imbecile?” she snapped at Alfred. “There’s a man out there, bleeding to death! Bring him in!”
She brushed past the footman and unlatched the door.
“No!” Charlotte called, turning in time to see what she was doing.
The door pushed open instantly. Hurley stalked in. He held a gun pointed right into Alfred’s face.
“Well done, my dear,” the former steward said to her cousin. He grabbed Alfred and struck him hard on the head, behind his ear. The footman dropped to the floor.
Hurley reached back outside the door to lift a leather bag. He tossed it to Harriett. “Get back in there and get the jewels.”
“She called for help.”
Charlotte fell back as the former steward strode right up to her. Smirking, he grasped her arm. “I should have expected no less. You are, as ever, a damned nuisance, my lady.” He dragged her into the parlor behind Harriett, locked the door, then pulled her over to the window. He parted the curtains and threw up the sash. “Nothing yet.”
He pulled her over to the settee and flung her onto it. Tucking the pistol into his coat, he yanked a knife from his boot. Charlotte cringed. “Don’t move,” he ordered, lifting the knife high. She cowered into the corner as he plunged the knife into the seat next to her.
“Hurry,” he ordered Harriett. Her cousin had pulled a knife from the leather bag and was sawing at the matching chair. “Dig down deep, past the stuffing.”
He was already digging into the batting of the settee. With a grunt of satisfaction, he lifted out a long set of smokey grey pearls. They shone, rich and lustrous in the parlor’s bright light.
Charlotte gaped. The jewels. They had been here all along.
Raised voices and the sound of running footsteps sounded in the entry hall as someone discovered Alfred.
Hurley snagged the leather bag and dropped the pearls in. Harriett had exclaimed in triumph. Now she pulled out a necklace of gold filagree, with a heavy cross pendant. “Toss it in,” he told her, opening the bag.
He reached into the settee again and pulled out more treasure. Charlotte saw diamonds, gold and a necklace crafted entirely of pink topaz blooms.
“Keep going.” He barked the order at her cousin. “There should be sapphire earrings and an entire set of garnets in there.”
He pushed Charlotte onto the floor. “Move. You are sitting on a diamond tiara and more pearls.”
The commotion outside grew as more servants became aware of the tumult. She heard Mr. Flemming’s deep tones. Someone rattled the latch on the parlor door. “My lady! Are you in there?” It was Margie, and she sounded panicked.
Hurley’s knife suddenly pointed at her eye. “Don’t answer,” he whispered. “Where are the keys?”
“I have them.”
“Good.”
He went back to digging out jewelry and she eased the keys from her pocket and tossed them under the settee. Whatever happened, he wouldn’t be getting them from her.
“Move. Let me in.” Elizabeth’s voice sounded just outside the door. “I can pick the lock.”
Harley cursed and stood. “Toss in everything,” he hissed at Harriet. “If you find more before they get in, hide it away. Hunker down in the corner. You were too afraid to stop me. Get away as soon as you can. Your carriage is outside. I have a hack waiting.”
Charlotte watched, sickened, as Harriett nodded.
“I’ll see you shortly,” he said. Reaching down, he hauled Charlotte to her feet and forced her to the window.
“No!” She fought him every step. “I’m not coming with you!”
“You are. You are my ticket for free passage away from London.”
“No!”
He sneered down at her. “I confess, I’ve never struck a woman before, but if there must be a first, then I’m exceedingly glad it is you.”
He raised his hand and Charlotte’s head exploded in pain. The light in the parlor tunneled into darkness and winked out.
