Page 98 of Under the Earl's Wicked Spell

“Then we’ll lure him out.” Rafe looked towards the beach. “Take him away from everyone else. Leave him vulnerable.”

“And us, if you’re thinking what I think you are.”

“I’m willing to take that risk. Lieutenant Millinchip deserves to know why he was shot, and I want to know who asked him to do it.” Rafe flexed his fingers in his gloves. “I’ll go and knock on the door. You get ready to grab him.”

“All right. But don’t get ahead of yourself. We don’t want him to run.”

“I doubt he’ll be able to run in a straight line if he’s drunk.” Rafe stepped around his friend. “Let’s get this over with. It’s colder than I thought it would be.”

The sooner they did this, the sooner they would have the answers. And Rafe might be able to find out who was trying to kill anyone who knew what happened that day.

Rafe tiptoed up to the front door, waiting until Charlie was in position. Then he knocked. Nobody seemed to react inside. Rafe wanted to knock louder, but at this time of night, the children were going to be asleep. He didn’t want to wake them up.

He knocked again. A moment later, there was the sound of shuffling feet and the sound of someone bumping into something. Rafe adjusted his hat so he couldn’t be seen clearly when Asante opened the door. He didn’t want the man to run immediately. The door opened, and the large scowling face of the man they were looking for popped out into the night air.

“What do you want?”

Rafe looked up and smirked.

“I’m sure you know what I want, Asante.”

“What?”

Before Asante could react, Charlie had grabbed him and pulled him out of the house, pressing him up against the wall. A knife appeared in his hand, close to Asante’s throat.

“We’re going for a little walk,” he whispered. “And if you scream, you won’t be coming back on your own two feet.”

It was then that Rafe saw the realisation dawning. A moment later, the fear set in. He knew who they were. Rafe shut the door as quietly as he could.

“Let’s go.”

***

“What do you want from me?” Asante demanded as they dragged him along the beach. “This is kidnapping!”

Charlie snorted.

“If it was kidnapping, we would be taking you a lot farther than the end of the beach. And we wouldn’t be letting you go afterwards, either.”

“Letting me go?” Asante sounded disbelieving. “I know what you people are like.”

“Our people?” Rafe stopped walking and swung the man around to face him. “What do you mean by ‘our people’?”

“Savages from America,” Asante sneered. “You’re like wild animals when you’re let loose. I’ve met your kind on the battlefield against Napoleon. They weren’t the best-behaved soldiers. Always causing trouble.”

“And you think you’re the picture of a perfect gentleman, do you?” Rafe snapped back. “You think you can be better because you’re English?”

“I know I’m better.”

“Well, I’m English, too. And I’m an Earl. So your little remark falls down there, doesn’t it?” Rafe nodded at Charlie. “Where do you want to take him, Charlie?”

“Behind the rocks. We’ll be just out of sight, and then if he screams, nobody’s going to really hear it over the sea.”

“I like the sound of that.”

Asante tried to pull away, but the knife Charlie still held at his throat didn’t move.

“What are you going to do?”

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