Leopold grinned. “That we are. Shall we rejoin the duchess? I do not wish us to be separated for long.”
Her smile vanished. She nodded primly, held her hand out to Edwin, and headed for the door. Leopold followed, bemused by Mercy’s younger sister. She was as changeable as the weather. One minute hostile, then the next almost on good terms with him. It seemed to him that she couldn’t work out precisely whether she liked him or not. At least, she didn’t view him as her enemy for the moment. However, it would not pay to relax around her. He could easily offend her without trying.
He glanced up when she stopped suddenly, blocking his way forward. He looked over her shoulder to see Mercy, sitting regally in a high backed chair across the room. She smiled. Yet tears rolled down her cheeks. His heart ached. The poor darling woman. She had so much strife in her life that he wondered if his staying at Romsey might be better. Could he make her life easier?
“Please do take a seat.” She indicated to the chairs opposite.
He frowned. Why was she behaving as primly as her sister? Why had she moved the chair so far away from its usual placement? Leopold moved ahead of Lady Venables. Mercy didn’t so much as twitch at his approach. When he got closer, her eyes slid downward and to the side. He followed where her gaze drifted and saw a pistol digging into her ribs.
“Don’t come any closer. Give me the boy.”
The harsh male request shocked Leopold and then his anger destroyed the shock. While he’d been gone, Mercy had been set upon. If she was harmed, he’d tear strips off the man. He couldn’t place the unrefined accent, but a common thug held Mercy at gunpoint. Behind him, Blythe gasped and he heard sounds of struggle. Leopold flung his hand backward, moving to step between the stranger and Edwin, to stop them advancing further into the room. “Hold him. Keep him safe.”
Leopold approached Mercy. “Show yourself, coward.”
“Oh, I’m no coward,” a deep voice rumbled. “Just prudent. Rumor has it you travel armed. Put it down on the floor, if you please.”
Leopold put his hand in his pocket, and then remembered he didn’t have the piece on him anymore. He’d given it to Mercy for her protection, but it appeared she’d not had time to use it. Was it hidden in her gown?
He withdrew his hand, and spread them wide, palms out from his sides. “I am unarmed.”
A wild mane of tangled blonde hair appeared around Mercy’s shoulder then disappeared again. The man, some years younger than himself Leopold thought, was dressed no better than a common sailor.
“Are you all right, love?”
Mercy nodded, then winced as the pistol was dug deeper into her ribs.
“Get on your knees,” the stranger ordered.
Leopold closed his eyes briefly, his mind sifting through possibilities and strategies. In that position, he’d never stand a chance of getting Mercy away to safety. The stranger would win. He shifted a little to try to get a better glimpse of the man behind Mercy. Although he was mostly hidden behind the chair, Leopold judged him to be of average height and build. If Mercy was out of the way, Leopold would be a match for him in a fair or dirty fight. Except for the scoundrel’s speed when he moved. If he ran, Leopold would never catch him. Leopold wouldn’t make that mistake again. “Who are you? What do you want here?”
The stranger laughed. “Nothing from you. Nothing you’ve got to give would ever change things.
Only their deaths can make me whole again. Bring me the boy.”
Not a chance in hell. Leopold shifted his weight subtly from foot to foot. There was no way he would allow Mercy to suffer any more of this when he had the strength to protect her. He met her terrified gaze, let all the love he felt for her show in his eyes, and silently said goodbye.
The only way to stop this was a frontal assault and hope Mercy could flee to safety. There was no other way that he could see. He took a deep breath. “Over my dead body.”
He charged.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Mercy shrieked as Leopold rushed forward, murder in his eyes.
“You,” he growled as he reached her, but then pushed Mercy from her chair as he passed, shoving her to the floor and out of danger. “You bloody little beggar.”
“No, don’t,” the stranger cried out as they crashed to the floor. “You’ll ruin everything.”
A gunshot rang out, making her ears ring, and the sounds around her became muted. Mercy covered her head, but then couldn’t bear not knowing what was going on. She turned around and lifted her head. Leopold had her attacker flat on his back, fists wrapped around his throat.
Mercy glanced around wildly and saw that her son and sister were safe on the far side of the room, huddled behind a large chair, eyes wide with terror. She relaxed for a moment, but then Blythe dragged Edwin into her arms and fled with him, crashing through the door as if demons chased her.
“Mama,” Edwin screamed, struggling against Blythe’s grip.
But Mercy couldn’t follow him. She couldn’t take her eyes off the men longer than a second; Leopold was choking the stranger beneath him and his frantic attempts to gain his freedom worried her. What if the villain fought free? She glanced at the door. They were gone. Thank heavens Blythe had taken Edwin away. She would hide him again and comfort him until Mercy could join them.
“I should wipe the floor with you,” Leopold growled, drawing her attention to him again.