The Lady Chosen (Bastion Club 1) - Page 149

Mountford panicked. “Wait!” His fingers tightened on Leonora’s arm; he hauled her to him, jerking her off-balance so she fell against him. He brandished his dagger before her face.

“Don’t do anything rash!” Wildly, he looked from Jeremy to Humphrey. “I just want the formula—just give it to me, and she won’t get hurt.”

She felt his chest heave as he dragged in a breath.

“I don’t want to hurt anyone, but I will. I want that formula.”

The sight of the knife had shocked Jeremy and Humphrey; Duke’s rising tones were scaring her.

“I say, see here!” Humphrey struggled up out of his chair, uncaring of the journal that slid to the floor. “You can’t just come in here and—”

“Shut up!” Mountford was dancing with impatience. His eyes kept flicking to Jeremy’s desk.

Leonora couldn’t help but focus on the blade, waltzing before her eyes.

“Listen, you can have the formula.” Jeremy started to come around his desk. “It’s here.” He waved at the desk. “If you’ll—”

“Stop right there! Not one more step, or I’ll slice her cheek!”

Jeremy paled. Halted.

Leonora tried not to think about the knife slicing into her cheek. She closed her eyes briefly. She had to think. Had to find a way…a way to take control…to waste time, to keep Jeremy and Humphrey safe…

She opened her eyes and focused on her brother. “Don’t come any closer!” Her voice was weak and wavery, totally unlike her. “He might lock you up somewhere, and then I’ll be alone with him!”

Mountford shifted, dragging her so he could keep both Humphrey and Jeremy in view but was no longer standing directly before the door. “Perfect,” he hissed. “If I lock you two up, just like I locked the others up, then I can take the formula and be on my way.”

Jeremy stared at her. “Don’t be stupid.” He meant every word. Then he glanced at Mountford. “Anyway, there’s nowhere he could lock us up—this is the only room on this floor with a lock.”

“Indeed!” Humphrey puffed. “A nonsensical suggestion.”

“Oh, no,” she warbled, and prayed Mountford would believe her act. “Why, he could lock you in the broom closet across the hall. You’d both fit.”

The look Jeremy sent her was furious. “You fool!”

His reaction played into her hands. Mountford, so nervous he was jigging, jumped on the idea. “Both of you—now!” He waved with the knife. “You”—he pointed at Jeremy—“get the old man and help him to the door. You don’t want your sister’s lovely face scarred, do you?”

With a final glare at her, Jeremy went and took Humphrey’s arm. He helped Humphrey to the door.

“Stop.” Mountford pulled her around so they were directly behind the other two, facing the door. “Right—no noise, no nonsense. Open the door, walk to the broom closet, open its door and walk in. Close the door quietly behind you. Remember—I’m watching every move, and my dagger is at your sister’s throat.”

She saw Jeremy haul in a breath, then he and Humphrey did exactly as Mountford had ordered. Mountford edged forward as they went into the broom closet directly across the wide corridor; he glanced down the corridor toward the front hall, but no one came from that direction.

The instant the broom closet door shut, Mountford pushed her forward. The key was in the lock. Without releasing her, he turned it.

“Excellent!” He turned to her, eyes feverishly bright. “Now you can get me the formula, and I’ll be on my way.”

He pushed her back into the library. He closed the door and hurried her to the desk. “Where is it?”

Leonora spread her hands and shuffled papers, confusing what little order there had been. “He said it was here…”

“Well find it, damn you!” Mountford released her, ran his fingers through his hair.

Frowning as if concentrating, disguising her sudden spurt of relief, Leonora drifted around the large desk, spreading and sorting papers. “If my brother said it was here, I can assure you it will be…” She continued rambling, just like any of the dithery old dears she’d helped over the years. And steadily, paper by paper, worked her way around the desk.

“Is this it?” Finally opposite Mountford, she picked up one sheet, squinted at the receipe, then shook her head. “No. But it must be here…perhaps it’s this one?”

She felt Mountford quiver, made the mistake of glancing up—he caught her eye. Saw…

Tags: Stephanie Laurens Bastion Club Historical
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