e, the hairs prickling at the back of her neck. She held her breath. Where was it coming from? Could it be the robbers coming back down the stairs?
"Mistress Elizabeth!" she heard Hastings call out from behind her. It nearly made her jump. "Mistress Elizabeth, where are you?"
"Here, Hastings! Hurry!"
A moment later, she saw a light approaching. Hastings came toward her with a lantern and what appeared to be a battle-ax.
"Good Heavens!" she exclaimed. "Where did you get that?"
"Master Henry had it hanging upon the wall," said Hastings, who had recovered somewhat, although he still looked a bit unsteady. She could see now that he was not a young man. He was about her height, thin as a rake, bald at the crown, with wispy white hair that stuck out from the sides of his head. "Would that I had this in my hands when those misbegotten wastrels broke in here!" he said, giving the battle-ax a shake. "I would have shown them what for!"
"Be quiet, Hastings! Listen!"
He stopped. The thumping noises continued.
"Do you hear?" she asked. "What is that?"
"The other servants!" he said after a moment. "In the kitchen!" He led the way and she followed.
They found them tied up in the kitchen. They quickly released the two women, who were frightened, but otherwise unharmed. They lit some candles and together all went in search of Henry Mayhew and Mistress Winifred, whom Elizabeth assumed to be the woman that Portia had told her about not long ago, the one who was going to be her stepmother. They soon found her in an upstairs bedroom, tied up and gagged and stretched out on the bed.
"Oh, my Lord!" cried Hastings when he saw her, and he nearly dropped the lantern. Elizabeth, however, ran immediately to her bedside with the two other women, and they soon had her untied.
"Are you all right?" Elizabeth asked her, helping her sit up. She hesitated. "Did they hurt you?"
Winifred shook her head as she massaged her wrists. "Nay, they did not molest me," she replied with surprising frankness.
"'Twas not me that they wanted."
"What do you mean?" Elizabeth asked.
"They took Henry," Winifred replied. She glanced at the servants. "Why are you standing there and dithering? Get some light in here! Look around the house and see if they have taken anything. Go on, now! Be quick about it!"
As the servants quickly moved to follow her directives, she turned to Elizabeth. "I would be much obliged if you would tell me who you are, young woman, so that I may thank you properly."
"My name is Elizabeth Darcie."
"Henry Darcie's daughter," Winifred replied, nodding. "Well, I am most grateful to you, Elizabeth. How did you happen to come here? Is anything amiss with Portia?"
"Nay, Portia is well," Elizabeth replied. "That is, she is still mired in her grief for Thomas, but when I left her, she was otherwise unharmed. You do not suppose those men…" She trailed off, unable to finish articulating the appalling thought that had just occurred to her.
"I do not think. so," Winifred replied, getting to her feet. "They demanded to know where she was. They were most insistent, but neither Henry nor I would tell them. Henry stubbornly refused to speak., so, fearing that they might ham him, I told them that she had run away from home and that we did not know where she was. They then took Henry and departed, after tying me up and carrying me upstairs. And save for the soreness in my ""'fists and ankles where they bound me up, they did not harm me in any way."
"Well, thank goodness for that, at least," Elizabeth replied. "I must say, you have been very brave through all of this."
"Brave?" Winifred snorted. "I was terrified out of my wits. I feel like sitting down and having a good long cry, but there is not time for that. I must try to think how to help Henry." She balled her hands up into fists. "I cannot, I must not, be weak now. I must keep my wits about me. These were no ordinary robbers, to be sure. They kept wanting to know where Portia was. I can only suppose they meant to abduct her and hold her for ransom, and failing to find her, they took Henry, instead, thinking to make me pay for his safe return."
"Perhaps not," said Elizabeth tensely.
Winifred gave her a sharp look. "What do you mean ? What other reason could there be?"
Elizabeth took a deep breath. "These men sound like ruffiers," she replied. "Men who knew what they were about. And unless there were things stolen from your house, 'twould seem to me that they came specifically for Portia and her father. If they truly meant to abduct Portia and hold her for ransom, then when they failed to find her here, why take her father? Why not take you in her place, and thus force him to pay for your safe return instead?"
"Indeed, why not?" Winifred replied. She shook her head. "I do not know. But why else would they have done what they did?"
"Perhaps because someone seeks revenge for the murder of Thomas Locke," Elizabeth told her. "Namely, his father, Who I have been told is one of the masters of the Thieves Guild. Thus, 'tis fortunate that you told them you did not know where Portia ,vas. However, they may not have believed you when you said that she ran away, and now that they have taken her father, they may try to force it out of him."
"Then before anything else is done," said Winifred, 'we must get Portia out of your house and hide her somewhere."