Page 103 of A Rogue to Ruin
Jumping to his feet, Rafe whipped his knife from his boot and started toward another villain. Glancing around the folly, he counted four men on their feet with the fifth on the ground. Plus Selina and Beatrix, who were wielding their own knives.
“Come at me!” Rafe yelled, trying to distract the men from his sisters. And yes, Beatrix was his sister in every way that mattered, in a way that blood, such as that which he shared with his uncle, did not.
Two of the men turned their attention to Rafe. One called, “Flank him!”
Rafe was ready for them. He held up his right arm as a shield while wielding the knife in his left. That his left was his dominant hand usually gave him an advantage, as his opponents weren’t expecting that.
Holding off one with his arm, he lunged toward the other, aiming his knife for the underside of the man’s chin. While the one man’s blade sliced through Rafe’s sleeve and nicked his flesh, he caught the other’s jaw. Unfortunately, he moved fast enough to avoid real damage.
With a low growl, Rafe threw his leg out and tripped the man who’d cut his arm, sending him to the ground.
“Rafe, I have a pistol!” Beatrix shouted.
“Use it!” he called.
The report of the weapon filled the night air as one of the men fell to the stones.
Suddenly, there were more people, and a moment later, the remaining three brigands were on the ground.
Harry stood over them, pistol in hand. “You’re all going to face the magistrate. I work for Bow Street.”
One of the men swore.
Rafe moved to stand next to Harry. “Where is Anne?”
The trio stared up at him but said nothing. He bent down and grabbed the one on the left by the front of his coat. “Tell me where she is, or I will cut out your entrails and make you eat them.”
The color drained from the villain’s face as he looked wildly toward Harry. “Ye can’t let ’im do that.”
“I don’t think I can stop him. After all, he’s only trying to prevent you from escaping. Who are you working for?”
“No one,” snapped the man in the middle.
Rafe dropped the first man and transferred his attention to the one who’d just spoken. “You just happen to find yourself dressed like Quality in the middle of a ball to which you weren’t invited with the intent of luring me away.” He put his foot on the man’s neck. “Who are you working for?”
“I’d tell him if I were you,” Harry said blandly.
Eyes wide, the criminal blurted, “Lord Stone. He took the chit with him.”
Rafe pressed his boot down. “Where?”
“Ivy something,” the man croaked.
“Ivy Grove,” Rafe said as he turned and started from the folly.
“Wait!” Harry called, grabbing him by the arm. “You can’t go alone.”
“I don’t care who comes with me, but I’m goingnow.”
Anthony and Jane arrived with their host, Ripley. The latter man frowned as he surveyed the scene in the folly. “Bloody hell,” he muttered.
“Ripley, we need horses,” Harry said.
The marquess nodded. “Tell the head groom at the stable I said to saddle whatever you need.”
Rafe started toward the house. He was only vaguely aware of the stable’s location, but he’d find it. He ran, but not at the sprint he’d used to get to the folly.
“This way,” Harry said, bumping his arm as he ran by.
