Juan clutched her knees. "You are not listening to me! I am trying to tell you-"
"Does the situation involve any sort of weaponry? Swords? Axes? Firearms?"
"Madre Dios, no-"
"Then I don't want to hear about it. I am very busy at the moment, and as long as no one is in any danger, I will attend to the situation later, when I have time. Is that clear?"
"Of course it is clear, I have not the potatoes growing out of my ears. You must come with me-"
"Is that clear, Juan?" Plum said more forcefully, her frown intensifying.
Juan released her knees, got to his feet, and stalked to the door. "You are being stupid, most lovely lady! I try to tell you, but you will not let me. What am I to do? I do my job. I try to tell you, but you, you would try the saint, you would!"
"Yes, yes, thank you, Juan." Perhaps if word got around that he carried a plague ... no, that had the possibility of harming his wife and children, who were innocent of his sins. Sadly, a plague was out. "You may leave me now. Tell the children I will attend to them later."
"I will never understand you English," Juan said with a dramatic air of one grievously injured. He marched over to the door. "You make the fuss most big about the children, but when they have been kidnapped, you will not listen. I try no longer! Bah, I wash my hands!"
"Fine," Plum said, waving an airy hand and returning to the problem that greatly concerned her. "Water, now there's an idea. Perhaps it could be put about that he is nigh on insane regarding the subject of water. Bedlam would loom before him, and that, surely, is enough to keep anyone in line. It certainly should stop him ... kidnapping?"
Plum was up from her seat the instant the word penetrated her consciousness. Juan, who knew his employers better than he allowed, stood outside the door counting. He opened it just as she raced through.
"I am the butler extraordinary," he said as she flew past him. "The carriage is waiting for you."
"Find Harry," she yelled as she ran down the stairs and across the hall, leaping down the front steps to the waiting carriage. Two footmen clung to the top of the carriage, one of whom was Sam, sporting a dashing white bandage around his head.
Plum didn't give him a thought as she threw herself into the carriage. "Go!"
The door slammed behind her. Plum fell backward as the horses were sprung. Struggling to sit upright, she opened the trap and yelled for the footman. "Ben, what happened? Where are the children? Who has taken them?"
"I don't rightly know, my lady. Sam, he went out to the park with the two men his lordship hired to watch over Miss Thom and the children, and he came home with his head all bloody, raving about someone who attacked them and stole the children. The two men and Miss Thom went after the kidnappers."
"How are we ever to find them in all of London?" Plum wailed.
Sam leaned over to the trap. "They thought I was dead, Lady Rosse. One of the blighters who was standing over me told the others to meet them at the ruins."
"Ruins? What ruins, London doesn't have any ... oh! Vauxhall."
Ben's face reappeared in the square. "That's what we thought, milady. It was the only ruins we could think of in London."
"I just pray we get there in time," Plum said, and sat back to commence some really thoughtful worrying.
"What do you mean my wife wants to hire a murderer? Plum would never do any such thing." Harry stormed across the smoking room at Britton House, a small headache pulsing to life at the back of his head. Noble had to be wrong, that's all there was to it. He must have read Thom's note incorrectly. "She just wouldn't do it."
"According to Thom, she's hoping Nick'll be able to provide her with an introduction to someone who won't mind killing a gentleman she assured him no one will miss."
"That's ridiculous. It's a joke. The two of them are having Nick on."
"I don't think so, Harry. Evidently Thom asked Nick first if he'd do it, but seemed to credit the lad with the niceness of not being a murderer by continuing that if he didn't have the stomach for it, could he please refer someone to her aunt who would."
"My lords, my pardon for interrupting, but there's a man by the name of Juan at the door inquiring for Lord Rosse. He says it is most urgent-"
"Just a minute." Harry held up a hand to the short, round butler who stood in the doorway, and turned back to the man before him. "Do you mean to say that Thom wrote this letter to Nick? It's a joke, man! That's all it can be. She's testing him. You know how women like to do that to men. It's in their blood. No doubt she fancies him, and she wants to see just how honorable he really is."
"My lord, I sense the matter is of some urgency. The butler Juan claims it is life or death."
"Juan lives his life like a melodrama," Harry told Tremayne the butler. "Everything is life or death to him. Pay him no mind for a few minutes, and he'll calm down."
Noble had been frowning into the empty fireplace. He looked up with a speculative air. "I don't think it was a joke or a test, Harry. Thom was very specific that Plum wanted to hire a thug to kill a Mr. de Spenser without being caught. Why would she be so adamant about that if it was a joke?"
Harry stared at his friend in disbelief for a moment, then bellowed, "De Spenser? It's de Spenser she wants killed? Are you sure about that?"
"Yes, that's what the letter said. Would you like me to fetch it? I believe Nick left it somewhere. He's gone off to see if your niece is in the park, to try to get more information about this odd request. I take it you know this de Spenser?"
"Bloody hell, why didn't you tell me it was de Spenser in the first place?" Harry roared.
Noble's face took on the expression of the deepest righteous indignation. "You never asked!"
"Gaaaah!" Harry yelled to the heavens, and spinning on his heel, ran for his horse.
"My lord! Harry, you must hear me out!"
"Later," Harry shouted to Juan as he ran down the front steps, leaping into the saddle.
"It concerns the diablitos!" Juan bellowed after him.
"I'll settle with Plum later for whatever they've done," Harry yelled back.
Juan swore fluently, then made for his own horse, kicking the animal into a gallop after his quickly disappearing employer. "Harry, it is the most important that you stop and listen to me!"
Harry didn't acknowledge the cry of the man behind him. He had more important things to focus on, such as finding his wife and worming out the reason she felt obliged to hire a man to kill a man who was already dead. Could it be a brother she was targeting?
"My lord-" Harry dodged carriages, gigs, people, dogs, horses, children, and all the other assorted obstacles that made up the morning traffic, pulling up only after the words thrown at him made sense.
"The diablitos were kidnapped!"
"They were what?" Harry exploded. He turned his horse and grabbed at Juan's coat as the butler pulled up next to him, hauling the unfortunate servant halfway off his horse. "THEY WERE WHAT?"
"Stole your children," Juan panted. "They are gone to Vauxhall, to the ruins, Sam says. You see? If you had listened to me at first, then you would not be so very angry now. No one listens to me. It is my most tragic fate."
Harry snarled an invective into the man's face, then tossed him back into the saddle and urged Atlas into a gallop oblivious of traffic and pedestrians alike.
"What do you think, Nick? Those men won't hurt the children, will they?"
Nick glanced from Thom's worried eyes to the young woman sitting opposite him. Although he hadn't witnessed the kidnapping himself-and sorely wished he had been present, for he would have given the bastards a good fight-he had come across Thom and India racing down the street bordering the park afterward. "No, I don't think they'll hurt the little ones. They have no reason to-kidnappers only kidnap because they want something in return. They know that Harry will demand proof of the well-being of his children before he pays a ransom."
"I suppose so," Thom said, worrying her lower lip. "And they'll have Digger, assuming
he made it onto the carriage without the men seeing him. I just don't understand why they took only the youngest three. It doesn't make sense."
Nick shrugged, glancing out the window. He wanted to be questioning the footman who currently clung to the top of the hired hackney about what he had seen, but had held off because of the erroneous assumption that Thom would be too distraught to be left by herself. He had wronged Thom on that score-she was worried, yes, but not hysterical. "Tell me again what happened. Everything."
Thom took a deep breath. "We were strolling through the park, as usual. The children wanted to go to Kensington as a change of scenery, so the younger ones were having a little footrace there. One moment then were running and laughing as we approached Kensington Park, the next minute two carriages pulled up, and several men jumped down and snatched up the children. Sam and the two men Harry hired all ran forward, but the other men were armed and struck them all down. Sam was the only one we could rouse, and he said one of the men mentioned meeting at a ruin. Digger ran off after one of the carriages, and I think he made it onto the back without being seen, but I was paying attention to Sam at the time, and I didn't see for certain. India and I chased after them as well, but they were too fast, and no carriages would stop for us! We must have run for fifteen minutes before you found us. Thank heavens you were able to make one of the hackney drivers stop. It's most vexing that they wouldn't do the same for me! We might have been at the ruins much earlier if they had."
Nick thought of the wild figures India and Thom had made, racing down the street yelling like banshees, their hair windblown, their skirts covered in dust, but said nothing.
"What was that? Did you hear something, Malmseynose? Did you hear that slithering noise? I distinctly heard a slithering noise! God's blood, if you've got a snake on your person, I'll have you hung by your cods from the highest tree!"
Max Malmseynose, hired ruffian and primary kidnapper, looked startled at both the thought of carrying a snake around, and the mode of revenge espoused by the gentleman who hired him. "I didn't hear nothing, sir."
"Well I heard something, something slitherish. Be quiet, you little brat! I need to listen, and I can't do that with you sniveling."
Max put a hand out to the right to push the small boy back into the corner of the carriage, giving him a warning look in the process. He felt badly about his role in the children's nabbing since they were younger than he expected. The twins were quiet, holding each other for comfort, while the smaller boy was sniffling and crying for his mama. It was almost enough to break his heart.
Almost.
"I want Mama."
"Shut up," Max said without any real heat.
"Jackson wants Mama, too."
"Keep that little bastard quiet! How can I listen for slithering with him babbling!"
"McTavish isn't a bastard," the older boy said. "A bastard is someone whose mama and papa aren't married, but ours were."
"QUIET!" the man yelled. He took a deep breath, then suddenly jerked his leg up. "There, do you hear it? Slithering! Stop the coach! Stop, I tell you! I won't go one more foot without the interior checked for snakes!"
Max sighed and resigned himself to searching the carriage for snakes while the gentleman paced outside, ranting against the person who thought to make a cruel joke on him. He set two men to watch the children, then turned back to the carriage. Just as he lifted a cushion to peer underneath it, the twins began attacking the men with fists and feet. He turned back to assist the men, but was knocked backward by the flying body of the small boy.
"Jackson!" the child screamed in his ear, climbing him like he was a tree. "Jackson's loose! Jackson!"
From the corner of his eye Max saw a yellow-and-black striped shape slide under the seat opposite. Evidently the gentleman was right. There was a snake in the carriage.
Max sighed again. It was going to be a long, long day.
The trap in the roof of the carriage lifted, and Ben leaned down to announce, "Vauxhall Gardens, my lady. We will take you as close to the ruins as possible."
"Thank you," Plum said, chewing her lip as she watched out the window. "The ruins, what would they want at the ruins? They're not even real, no more than the faux castle and cannons and cascade are real. What on earth can they want at the ruins?"
The carriage came to a halt before Plum could puzzle out an answer. "Which way are the ruins?" she asked as she leaped down without waiting for the steps to be lowered.
"That way, through the long lawn, to the left of the iron bridge, beyond the thatched pavilion."
"Ben, you come with me. Sam, you stay here in case Lord Rosse shows up. You can tell him where we've gone. Are you armed, Ben?"
"Aye, my lady."
"Excellent. Try not to kill anyone unless you absolutely have to."
"Right you are," Ben said cheerfully. The two of them set off at a run across the small, delightful groves, charming lawns, serpentine walks, and shady bowers that made up some of the sixteen acres of the famed Vauxhall Pleasure Gardens.
As they approached the ruins, Sam pointed and yelled that they were close. Suddenly the figure of a man burst from behind a partially standing wall, spinning and yelling and waving his arms around like he was a madman. Clinging to his back was the lithe shape of a tall boy.
"Digger!" Plum cried, and picking up her skirts, dashed toward the pair. It wasn't easy going with crumbled bits of stone, rotted wood, and awkward mounds of grassy earth that had been artfully arranged as part of the romantic ruins, but where there was Digger, there was bound to be the rest of the children. The man Digger was beating about the head caught sight of her and bellowed a warning, then turned and lumbered back behind the wall. Behind her a shout included her name. Plum slowed and glanced backward. Thom and India and a tall, handsome young man were running toward them. She waved and spun back around, catching up to Ben as they rounded the corner of a large piece of ruins. The scene before them was of utter chaos. Plum paused for a brief moment, unable to believe what she was seeing, then with a quick smile and a whoop that rivaled those the children were making, threw herself into the fray.
If the situation had not posed danger to the children, Plum thought as she raised her skirt high enough to kick out at the man who was dragging Digger from his back, it would be amusing. Digger's assailant clutched himself, doubled over, and rolled to the ground screaming something about his unborn children. Digger gave her a cheeky grin and the pair turned to where a ginger-haired man was trying unsuccessfully to tuck Andrew and Ann under his arms. The twins were shrieking and squirming and biting at the man, but Plum didn't stop to lavish praise upon them for their intelligent behavior-she lowered her head and charged across the rocky ground toward the man who had her stepchildren. The cowardly miscreant took one look at her-and the three people following on her heels-and dropped the twins, spinning around to head for the scenic wood that bordered the faux ruins.
"After him," Plum cried to the young man who accompanied Thom, falling to her knees to embrace the twins. "Are you all right? Are you hurt?"
"Mama! Mama help me!" a youthful voice cried. Plum turned from where she was pressing kisses onto the squirming twins, jumping up to look down what was meant to represent a ruined cloistered walk consisting of a few broken archways and fallen columns.
"Digger, take care of the twins," Plum cried as she dashed off. At the far end of the walk rose a large block of stone topped by wildflowers. The ginger-haired man stood next to the stone, a pistol in one hand and McTavish in the other. Movement behind her indicated that Thom and India had followed her.
"Stand back, all of you, or I'll see to it this little bastard goes to meet his maker! You! You the boy's mama?"
Plum walked forward slowly, gesturing behind her back in an attempt to warn the others off. "Yes, I am his mother. You can't want to harm him, it will do you no good. Why don't you take me, instead?"
"Come closer, and we'll talk about it," the ginger-haired man said.
Pl
um turned her head slightly to the right, never once taking her eyes from the muzzle of the pistol pressed to her youngest stepson's head as she slowly paced toward him. "Digger?"
"Yes, Plum?" His voice was as soft as hers.
"Take the others to the carriage. Be very quiet and do not attack anyone. Their safety is in your hands."
"I'd rather stay here with you."
Plum risked a glance to the side to where her stepson stood. He looked just like Harry at that moment, a realization that wrung her heart. "I know you would, but you must think of their safety first."
"All right. I won't let you down."
"Tell Sam and the other men to stay back." Plum stepped forward, her hands spread to show she was unarmed. "Let the child go. He's not as valuable as I am, surely?" ?
"That's as may be, but I was hired to take the youngsters." The man edged nervously around the side of the stone, his grip on the boy's neck tightening as he had to drag McTavish over a small hillock. "No closer now, my lady. I wouldn't want you getting heroic. You, there, in the back. Release my man or I shoot the lad."
Plum prayed that the man who accompanied Thom would do as he was asked. Evidently he did, because a thin, weedy man with two bruised eyes and a bloody nose staggered to the far side of the walk, wiping his nose on his sleeve.
The man with the pistol nodded toward her. "Take the lady, Davey. Hold her in case the gent back there gets any ideas."
"Who is it?" Plum asked in a whisper as the bloodied man limped toward her.
"The gentleman? That's Nick, my burglar," Thom whispered back.
"Tell him to be ready. I will pretend to stumble and fall toward the man with the pistol. You must grab McTavish while the burglar takes care of this one."
Thom stepped away as the hired thug grabbed Plum's arm, snarling an oath under his breath. His fingers bit cruelly into her arm as he jerked her forward.