Page 18 of Greystone’s Legacy (To All The Earls I’ve Loved Before #5)

"Be careful with Miss Wynstanley," Montague warned in parting. "Sebastian has developed an unhealthy interest in her. I've heard him speaking with Father about how inconvenient it would be if you managed to sire yet another heir to the earldom, and he's convinced you mean to marry her."

Freddie's hands clenched into fists. "If they dare threaten Hester..."

"Then you'll need these documents more than ever." Montague stepped back into the shadows. "Good luck, cousin. I'm glad you survived. The earldom needs a Grey with actual honour."

Watching his cousin disappear into the darkness, Freddie felt the weight of the portfolio like lead in his hands.

Here was everything needed to destroy Edmund and Sebastian, to avenge his parents and secure his inheritance.

Yet the victory would taste bitter, knowing how it would tear his family apart.

But there was no choice. Edmund had made his decisions, and now must face their consequences. Tucking the portfolio securely inside his coat, Freddie took a circuitous route home, planning how best to protect both Montague and Hester from whatever desperate schemes his uncle might attempt.

Hester rather thought London's Mayfair too artificially manicured for her tastes, but this morning she appreciated its predictable order. The neat rows of townhouses and carefully tended window boxes offered no hint of danger as she walked to the milliner's.

Perhaps she should have waited for the maid to accompany her, but Hester had grown weary of being constantly chaperoned. In Wales, she regularly walked miles alone across the mountains. Surely a short journey through fashionable London posed no real threat.

She realised her mistake when the hired carriage drew up beside her, moving at an unnaturally slow pace. Before she could quicken her steps, two men emerged from a nearby alley. One was Lord Edmund Grey himself, his thin lips curved in a triumphant smile.

"Miss Wynstanley," he said smoothly, "allow us to offer you a ride."

Hester's heart thundered, but she kept her voice steady.

"No thank you, my lord. I prefer to walk.

" Why, oh why had she not put her pistol in her pocket?

She knew why; her own vanity. The cut of her gown would have been ruined by the pistol's heavy weight.

How she wished she was wearing one of her old Welsh woollens instead of this useless, fashionable muslin!

She turned to retreat, but a second man blocked her path. Sebastian Grey's handsome face wore an expression that chilled her blood.

"I'm afraid we must insist," Lord Edmund stated. "For your own protection, naturally. These streets can be quite dangerous for a young lady alone."

The irony might have made her laugh, had terror not closed her throat. Hester's gaze darted around the surprisingly empty street. Where were the usual crowds of servants and shoppers?

Sebastian reached for her arm. Hester reacted instinctively, employing a trick learned from dealing with aggressive rams during shearing season.

She ducked down and grabbed his leg, yanking his knee up sharply.

Startled and off balance, Sebastian fell backwards with a yelp, windmilling his arms and taking his father down with him.

Their shock gave her the moment she needed. Hester gathered her skirts and ran, not toward the main thoroughfare where their carriage could easily overtake her, but down the narrow service alley between two townhouses.

Years of scrambling over Welsh mountainsides had given her both speed and sure-footedness. She heard Sebastian curse as he scrambled up and pursued her, his boots sliding on the damp cobblestones.

The alley opened onto a mews filled with carriages and stables. Hester darted between vehicles, her country-bred nose automatically cataloguing the smells of horse, hay, and leather. A groom looked up in surprise as she passed.

"Help!" she cried, but Sebastian's voice rang out behind her.

"Pay no mind! My cousin's ward, having a fit of hysteria. We'll handle it."

The groom's momentary hesitation was all they needed. Hester kept running, her mind racing faster than her feet. She needed somewhere they couldn't follow with a carriage, somewhere her practical knowledge might give her an advantage.

A half-open door revealed stairs leading down to a coal cellar.

Hester ducked inside, hoping they would assume her too fastidious to enter such a filthy space.

The cellar was pitch black, but her fingers found the rough texture of coal against one wall.

She crouched behind a pile of it, controlling her breathing as she'd learned to do when stalking shy ewes.

Heavy footsteps clattered on the stairs. "She must be here somewhere," Sebastian's voice growled. "Get a lamp."

The yellow glow of a lantern illuminated the cellar. Hester remained still, knowing her dark hair and grey pelisse would blend with the shadows if she didn't move. Growing up in a draughty old house had taught her every trick of hiding from light sources.

"Search thoroughly," Lord Edmund commanded from the top of the stairs. "We cannot risk her reaching Freddie with tales of this attempt."

Hester watched Sebastian's boots move past her hiding place. When he reached the far corner, she gathered herself and sprang up the stairs, taking them three at a time. Lord Edmund grabbed at her but she ducked under his arm, her shoulder striking his chest hard enough to send him staggering.

Out in the mews again, she ran, turning corners at random, desperate to stay ahead of her pursuers.

She could hear Sebastian's feet pounding behind her, but she could also hear him gulping for air – he did a great deal less exercise than she on a daily basis, she suspected.

He might be faster than her, with his longer legs, but if she could just stay out of reach she thought she could outlast him.

Turning another corner she found herself, blissfully, on a street she recognised. Berkely Square was just ahead, and the refuge of the Burrowes townhouse. Racing across the square, heedless of shocked faces staring, she ran pell-mell up the steps and pounded on the door.

The door opened and she practically fell into the butler's arms. Looking back, she saw Lord Edmund pulling Sebastian into their waiting carriage, which sped away before she could point it out to any witnesses.

"Good heavens, miss!" The butler helped her to a chair in the hall. "Shall I send for a doctor?"

"Lady Burrowes," Hester managed between gasping breaths. "Please... I must speak with her immediately."

The lady appeared within minutes, her usual dignity forgotten as she rushed to Hester's side. "My dear girl! What has happened? You're white as a ghost! And… is that coal on your gown?"

Hester related the whole adventure, her hands shaking as shock began to set in. Lady Burrowes' face grew grimmer with each detail.

"Unconscionable," she declared when Hester finished. "But not, I fear, unexpected. They are growing desperate."

"But why target me?" It didn't make sense to Hester.

"Because Freddie cares about you." Lady Burrowes' words were blunt. "Anyone with eyes can see it."

"And he's noble enough, and foolish enough, that he'd give himself up to them to save me," Hester whispered, the truth dawning on her. Lady Burrowes did not reply, but her knowing look confirmed Hester's suspicions.

As a maid helped her remove her coal-dusted pelisse, Hester reflected on the morning's events. She had escaped through luck and rural-learned skills, but Lord Edmund's attempt proved how desperate he had become. And if he would risk such a brazen attack in broad daylight, what might he try next?

More worrying still was the revelation that her presence in Freddie's life endangered him further. How could she justify remaining in London, knowing she provided his enemies with another weapon to use against him?