Page 34 of Lyon’s Obsession (The Lyon’s Den Connected World #91)

Theodora was not to learn what he intended to say, for a figure stepped out upon the porch of the cottage found at the end of the lane.

When the man left the shadows, Theodora noted that the occupant of the cottage had painted his face all black, which was most odd, but there was nothing she could do at this point.

The man wore a dark set of clothing, as one might wear for the theater and a cape with a white satin lining.

Dora’s mind flashed to a similar man, only his cape had been lined with red satin.

Richard Orson had spotted the stranger in Covent Garden the night Dora’s brother had rescued Lady Emma Donoghue.

They had all assumed the stranger outside the Covent Garden bordello had been Mr. Palmer, the Donoghue butler, who Richard had finally killed in order to save Lady Emma, but the coincidence was not lost on Theodora.

The cape lifted and fluttered in the breeze. That movement mixed with the stranger’s casual, debonair stillness and the early afternoon shadows added a touch of sheer horror to the scene.

“You did well, Almano.” The man tossed Count Almano a bag of coins. “You may assist Lady Theodora to the ground and then leave.”

“What do you mean to do with her?” Almano asked.

“I must kill her, merely as a warning to others,” the man said.

“But people will know I was the last to see her alive,” Almano protested.

“Then I suggest you use the coins in the purse I presented you and book passage out of England,” the man instructed in mocking tones.

“Now, do as I say, or you may join the lady in her punishment. We cannot leave all the untidy ends you have created untied,” the strange man said with a small lift of his lips in apparent pleasure, but he had obviously forgotten the paint, which cracked slightly, presenting him the appearance of a fractured plate.

“Leaving Lord Duncan’s daughter alive would be untidy. ”

Almano tugged her from her seat and used a knife to cut off her reticule. “Forgive me, my lady,” he said. He climbed back in the gig and set it in motion.

“Now what?” Theodora asked. Fear had lodged in her chest, and she could barely breathe, but she attempted to remain sensible. Her tormentor appeared excessively calm, indeed, downright casual about the idea of killing someone.

“How do you believe we should proceed?” he asked in a casual nonchalance, which sent a chill up Theodora’s spine.

“Would you prefer to die quickly or do you mean to fight me? If you want my opinion, I imagine you will fight. Such would be part of your father’s teachings, would it not?

Truthfully, I pray you fight. It will make my task all the more interesting. ”

“You are insane,” Dora accused.

“Insane. I have been called so on more than one occasion, but, generally, by the person I have in my sights. You believe a person is insane if he does not agree with your estimations of sanity, but I consider insanity aligned with genius. Or with possessing a dream. Some people would believe your obsession with Lord Marksman insanity.”

“What does Marksman have to do with any of this?” Theodora demanded.

“You should wonder on the possible solutions to your many questions while we take a walk. You may lead, my lady.” He tilted his head to the left to indicate the direction.

“Where are you taking me?” Dora asked as she took several steps along the path he had indicated, while wondering how she might survive this encounter.

She should have put up a larger fight when Almano had stopped her on the street, for she knew something of the man’s deceptive nature and his temperament, thanks to both Mrs. Dove-Lyon’s suspicions and her own.

Yet, Theodora had been played a fool by Lord Marksman again and again, and her mind had been too diverted to consider Almano might do more than curse her for leaving him on a nearly empty road to walk back to London, rather than what he executed, which was to force her into his carriage with a gun held at her side.

Every man she had ever trusted, including her father, had never once considered her capable of choosing who she loved, and, she supposed, they were all correct.

“I am thinking an earl’s daughter would choose an Ophelia-like death, so as to make your passing more believable, we shall walk down to the river.

A drowning is so deliciously acceptable, do you not think?

We shall make it appear a suicide. You are not a Catholic, are you?

” he asked with a shrill cackle that sounded more feminine than Theodora expected, but the words that followed were truly masculine in nature and purpose.

“When your body is recovered, it should destroy your father. Lord Macdonald Duncan will know his first great loss.”

“My father experienced his first great loss with the death of my mother, Lady Elsbeth Duncan,” Dora countered.

“Shut your filthy mouth!” the man growled and gave Theodora a hard shove in the back, sending her to her knees. “Stand up, bitch,” he said as he grabbed a handful of her hair to pull her upward.

As they approached the point which Winston had described, Alexander had taken the lead, but the count had been easily delivered into their hands.

The man had seen them too late to stage an escape, and Alexander had caught the bridle of the horse pulling the gig as Duncan aimed his gun at Almano.

“Where is she?” Duncan demanded in a voice Alexander had rarely heard his lordship use.

Fear covered Almano’s face. “Do not expect me to ask again. I would prefer to kill you anyway as you dared to aspire to my daughter. Three. Two.” Duncan cocked the gun with a quick flick of his thumb.

“On the right. A half mile,” Almano said as he raised his hands in surrender.

“Fetch her, Marksman,” Duncan ordered.

Alexander did not argue. He knew Duncan would take out his frustration on Almano and then place the man in custody, a bit worse for the wear.

Instead, Alexander kicked his horse’s flanks and laid out over the animal’s neck.

He knew the gelding was exhausted, but he would see to its care once Theodora was located.

“Please, God,” he said as he urged the horse onward.

“Permit her to be alive and not defiled.” Then he amended his plea.

“Let her be alive. We will deal with the other, if necessary. Though the idea of someone touching Theodora will likely kill Duncan…”

He spotted a newly mowed area and then an open gate, and so Alexander slowed his horse just long enough to look for the house, but it was not visible from the road.

He could be riding into a trap, but there was nothing he could do to prevent disaster, but to be prepared.

“Whoever has arranged this display of power will likely see me before I see him.” As he came closer, he walked the horse, so as not to signal his approach with the sound of the animal’s hooves.

Though he looked about and saw nothing from the ordinary, his heart worried he was too late.

Had Almano killed Theodora and left her here to rot?

At length, the house came into view, and Alexander dismounted to approach on foot.

The man in black had directed Theodora along a narrow path through the woods surrounding the house.

She had forgotten there was a tributary of the Thames in this area—the River Lea began in Bedfordshire, in the Chiltern Hills, and flowed southeast through Hertfordshire and into Greater London to meet the Thames at Bow Creek, though the man proudly told her so as he spoke of her death in the river.

Although her captor called her a variety of derogatory names, Dora set herself a reasonable pace so she would not be so winded when she attempted to run away from the man.

When the time came, it would be necessary for her to be in a position to fight.

Within a few minutes, they exited the woods, and the land sloped downward towards the river.

The house had been closer to the stream than she had expected.

A small pier reached out into the river, though it had missing boards and looked too flimsy to support both her weight and that of the man who still held a gun on her.

“The water is quite deep at this time of year,” her captor taunted.

“Lots of rain, but you know London’s weather, likely better than do I, Lady Theodora.

With your skirts and the pelisse and all, it might be difficult for you to stay afloat.

Moreover, I hope you have noticed the current is quite swift? ”

“You truly mean to do this?” she demanded.

“Naturally. I wish your father to suffer, and what better way than to kill the last of Lord Duncan’s family, just as he killed the last of mine. When the authorities discover you, perhaps they will think you knew a broken heart and either accidentally fell in or jumped.”

Alexander approached the house on silent feet before looking in windows to learn where Almano had left Theodora.

Hopefully, the man had simply tied her up, but Alexander was not confident the man did not have an accomplice, which would necessitate more care.

Otherwise, he would have stormed the house immediately.

At last, he found an unlocked door and entered the kitchen at the back.

Steadying his breathing, Alexander began to search first one room and then another, only to find nothing but a messy kitchen and filth everywhere, but no Theodora.

“Demme! Could Almano have tied her to a tree in the woods? There is only a lean-to. No barn.” With a sigh of determination, Alexander set out for the woods.

He must discover wherever Dora had been hidden away from Duncan before the man arrived.

Duncan would likely destroy the house board by board and Heaven help whoever assisted Almano in this crime!

Disapproving of Theodora’s stalling, the man caught Dora’s arm and forced her to lead, keeping her before him. She stepped tentatively on each plank, not confident it would hold her weight. The pier swayed and groaned, and Theodora braced herself in case it collapsed.

The man shoved her forward, but Dora had learned more than one trick at her father’s knee.

Instead of taking another step along the wooden pier, she hiked her skirt as if she needed actually to view her steps, before she spun out of her captor’s way, her leg clipping his knee and knocking him to the side, as she dropped to her knees to make it harder for her captor to move her if and when he came at her again, but Dora’s heroics had not been necessary, for a streak of orange and red fire flashed before her eyes.

An explosion of sound followed. Her captor staggered backwards, arms windmilling, but the man’s lack of balance won out and he fell into the rushing water to be carried downstream in an imitation of a dead raven.

Dora looked up to view Alexander on the edge of the pier, a gun still in his hand.

“Come, love,” he said as he reached his free hand to her.

Theodora began to weep. This was her dream, minus the gunfire and the rickety pier.

She held her place for several heartbeats before she rose unsteadily before staggering across the pier and falling into Alexander’s open arms.