Page 122 of Miss Prim and the Duke of Wylde
Drago wrestled his mind back to the action at hand and nodded. “I want to hear his reasons for what he’s done directly from him.”
Meg studied his grim expression. “He told me what he planned to do, but he didn’t tell me why. You—and George and Harry, too—need to know that. You deserve to know that.”
She turned to hand Ridley’s lead to Maurice, but Drago intervened. “Bring him. He’s a scent hound, and he’s definitely got Thomas’s scent. He might be useful.”
“And we’re not about to stay here,” Maurice added. “We want to see the end of this, too.”
Drago nodded, and the four of them followed Ridley, already straining at his makeshift leash, through the French doors.
Thomas had made it into the trees. Drago and Meg stepped onto the terrace just in time to see the last of the pursuers vanish into the forest to the east of the house.
“Come on!” Closing his hand around Meg’s, Drago jogged with her in that direction. Maurice and Tisdale kept close behind, while Ridley, nose to the wind, bounded ahead.
They reached the trees and plunged into the forest.
Drago knew the entire estate like the back of his hand. He listened to the shouts as, some way ahead of them, the others called out, directing each other as they followed Thomas’s erratic trail. He was tacking side to side, trying to lose them.
Ridley now had his nose to the ground and, with the leash taut, kept Drago and company unerringly on track.
Drago plotted their route in his mind. Thanks to Ridley, who never paused to take stock, they were steadily gaining ground.
Then Drago realized what lay ahead. “He’s going to run onto the cliffs of the old quarry.” He glanced at Meg. “It’s where they dug up the stone for the house, but it’s been unused for centuries.” He looked ahead, gauging the distance. “It’s overgrown, but the cliffs are still there. I don’t think I ever took Thomas that way. He won’t know the quarry’s there.” He thought, then added, “Other than Denton, none of the others will know, either.” In his head, Drago extrapolated the route Thomas was now following. Abruptly, Drago stopped jogging and pulled Meg and Ridley to a halt beside him. “We need to get ahead of him, so to speak, or he might run straight over the edge without realizing.”
Meg looked at the puppy, still straining on his leash.
“Yes, he went that way,” Drago said, “but we need to go a different way.” Increasingly sure of that, he gripped Meg’s hand tighter. “Come on!”
He set off at an angle to the route Thomas had taken. Meg tried to follow, but Ridley stood his ground and whined.
Tisdale scooped up the dog and nodded to Drago. “Go. We’ll follow.”
Drago went, wending his way through the trees, intent on getting to the quarry’s edge before Thomas. His hand still locked about Meg’s, without looking at her, he explained, “We’ll reach the edge of the quarry some way around from where Thomas will, but we should be within hailing distance. We should be able to warn him of the danger before he runs over the edge.”
He was aware of Meg looking at him curiously, presumably wondering why he was so concerned over saving Thomas—the villain of the piece—from plunging to his death. The truth was that some part of Drago’s mind was still grappling with the reality that it had been Thomas—Thomas!—all along. While he accepted that Thomas was, indeed, their villain, the betrayal cut deep. He needed to hear the reason that had driven Thomas to such acts, and for that, he—and George and Harry, too—needed Thomas alive.
The sky glimmered blue through the trees ahead. A minute later, they burst out onto a narrow shelf of clear land that ringed the gaping scar of the quarry. Drago halted, looping an arm about Meg’s waist to prevent her from venturing closer. “The edge is unstable and can crumble away at any time.”
They’d arrived close to the head of the quarry, a little way around the northern rim. The opening to the quarry lay some way to the east, and directly across on the opposite side lay the spot where Drago thought Thomas would fetch up.
He scanned the forest, listening to the crashes and curses and calls as the pursuit neared. Then he glimpsed a body twisting, almost staggering, through the trees.
Drago released Meg and cupped his hands about his mouth. “Thomas! Watch out for the cliff!”
Thomas burst through the last of the undergrowth and rushed on, only to pull up at the last second, literally teetering with the toes of his boots on the cliff’s edge. Wild-eyed, he stared briefly at Drago and Meg, then spun around and frantically looked to either side, searching for some way to escape.
But the others were closing in, more or less in an arc about him.
Drago heard a clatter and saw several small rocks break off from the cliff below Thomas to fall, bouncing and pinging, all the way down to the quarry floor far below.
“Thomas!” Drago yelled. “Step away from the edge.” He waved Thomas back. “The cliff’s unstable.”
His expression utterly blank, Thomas looked at Drago, but instead of moving away from the edge, he swung to face the others as, one by one, they appeared, keeping within the trees but surrounding Thomas’s position.
Thomas stood poised, arms spread for balance, his weight on his toes as if he intended to make a dash one way or the other and break through the cordon.
What he would have done, they were destined never to know.
A sullen rumble was all the warning anyone had. In the next instant, the earth roared, and the cliff beneath Thomas’s feet fell away.
