Page 81 of The Unfortunate Debutante
“Before you pull the trigger,” he tried again, “who gave you the order to blow up Grange Gardens?”
He could see the indecision on Stone’s face.
“Lord Revett told us to stop the growing skirmish,” Stone finally answered, “by any means necessary.”
“By killing thousands of people?” Simeon asked. “That was your plan?”
Stone sneered. “No, I’m…” His gaze shifted to over Simeon’s shoulder. “What the devil is that man doing?”
Looking over his shoulder, he saw Pembrooke dumping a bucket of water onto the basket, dousing the flame. He took advantage of the distraction to remove his pistol and turned back to face Stone.
“You’re under arrest,” Simeon declared, pointing his pistol at Stone’s chest. “Drop your weapon.”
Stone’s eyes narrowed as he shouted, “Never!”
The moment Stone’s finger twitched on the trigger, Simeon discharged his pistol, hitting Stone in the chest. With a loud grunt, Stone toppled down to the ground.
Pembrooke ran up and stood next to him. “The fire is out. I doused the gunpowder barrels with water as a precaution.”
“Good thinking. That will prevent them from igniting,” he remarked.
The roar of multiple gunshots went off in the distance.
“What the blazes was that?” Pembrooke asked.
Simeon turned his head towards the noise. “I don’t know, but it sounded like it came from a few blocks away.”
They took off sprinting and didn’t stop until they arrived at the ghastly scene, causing their steps to falter. Bodies were strewn along the ground, and a growing crowd was on the pavement, whispering and pointing in fascination. A few men were assisting the wounded to stand as they moaned in pain.
They approached cautiously until they saw a bruised and bloodied Lord Downshire standing over two bodies with a pistol in his hand.
“What happened?” Simeon shouted as he headed towards the marquess.
Downshire tucked the pistol into his waistband and wiped the blood off his face with the sleeve of his shirt.
“These imbeciles were no match for me.” He turned his head towards the coach as he cradled his left arm in his right hand. “I don’t suppose you know how to drive a coach?” he asked.
“I do. I worked undercover as a driver for an earl a few years back,” Simeon replied. “But first, what the devil happened here?”
A pained look came over Downshire’s expression. “Peter abducted Emma.”
“Lockhart did this?” Simeon roared.
“He did. We were ambushed, and Emma sacrificed herself to save me,” Downshire explained, wincing. “But Lockhart had no intention of letting me live. He waited until his coach pulled away before his men tried to kill me. It bought me enough time to formulate a plan.”
“Which was?”
“My plan was quite brilliant really. To overpower the men and avoid getting killed,” Downshire huffed.
Simeon pointed towards Downshire’s cradled left arm. “You’re injured.”
“It is nothing,” the marquess admitted. “I’ll send for a doctor later.”
Glancing up the street, Simeon asked, “Which way did they go?”
“That way,” Downshire said, pointing towards a side street.
Simeon turned towards Pembrooke. “You reported earlier that Lockhart’s residence is unknown,” he started, “but that’s when we were looking in London. He probably secured a house nearby that would allow his guards to go unnoticed. My guess is in the woods.”
