Page 59 of Much Ado about a Widow

“Lulu, attack, attack. Give no quarter!”

Furious growling turned into yips and tearing cloth.

Georgie dove for the candle on the bedside table, struck the tender, and lit the wick just as Travers’s screams renewed in volume. She lifted the light over the other side of the bed to find Lulu growling, her teeth sunk into the backside of Travers’s breeches as, still screeching, he attempted to crawl away.

“Oh, no, my lord. You will face the music in full force.” Leaning down, Georgie grabbed the chamber pot from beneath the bed, lifted it high, and brought it down with all the might she could muster on top of the earl’s head. It shattered into a thousand tiny shards, drenching the man as he lay prostrate on the floor.

The door to the corridor burst open. Rob and Jemmy raced into the room, the candle in Rob’s hand flickering as they tried to look everywhere at once.

“Georgie!” Her brother glanced from the body on the floor to her, his face blank and pale.

“Georgie!” Rob started toward her, only to be met by the still growling Lulu. She’d relinquished Travers’s breeches, although around the tear in the seat Georgie spied a red stain spreading.

“Lulu, stop. Come.” Georgie sat up on the side of the bed, wiping her eyes with shaking hands. The past few minutes had been a blur of terror she still couldn’t quite comprehend.

Lulu sailed up the stairs onto the cover and sat beside her mistress.

Georgie wrapped her arms around the spaniel and dissolved into tears.

“My love, are you hurt?” Rob tried to make his way to her, but Lulu bared her teeth at him, and he stopped. “If he hurt you . . .”

“No, he didn’t have a chance to.”

“What happened, Georgie?” Jemmy had made his way to the bed.

“I don’t quite know.” She sniffed and let go of Lulu. All she wanted was Rob’s arms around her. “I was asleep, and I woke up when someone got into the bed with me.” She used her sleeve to wipe her eyes. “At first I thought it was y . . . you, Rob.”

“What?” Jemmy rounded on his friend, fist clenched. “Why would she think you would come into her bedchamber, St. Just?”

“Jemmy, if you don’t stop that I’ll tell Lulu to bite you.” Opening her arms to Rob, Georgie sent a silent plea.

He darted forward, disregarding both dog and brother, and swept her up in his arms. Cradling her, he carried her to a chair, and sat, Lulu at their feet. “Shh. It will be all right. I’ve got you now. No one will harm you, ever again. I swear it on my life.”

She burrowed deeper into his embrace, resting her head on his neck, safe at last. Slowly her heart began to calm.

“Georgie.” Dropping into a chair next to them, Jemmy peered at her, concern in his face. “Can you please tell us what happened? Travers managed to sneak into your room?” He frowned at Rob. “How is that possible?”

“My first thought is that someone let him in, but I’ve always considered my servants loyal.” Rob’s tone was grim. “So I pray that is not the case. I will make inquiries to see if that avenue is unfounded. And there is another, very plausible explanation. The smugglers’ tunnel.”

“A smugglers’ tunnel?” Jemmy blinked. “You really were a pirate?”

“Not until I stole your sister’s heart away, I wasn’t.” Rob kissed her head.

“Rob was about to show the tunnel to me when we discovered you and Elizabeth and Lord Travers had arrived. Where is it, Rob?”

“In the larder, behind a false panel. It slopes directly down to the bottom of the cliff. There’s a hidden entrance there where the smugglers would bring the goods.”

“How would Travers know about that?” Peering at the unmoving earl, Jemmy frowned.

“He probably plied one of the old timers with drink until he talked about the good old smuggling days and learned about it that way.”

“But how did Travers know what room I was in?” An even better question than how he’d gotten into the castle.

Rob shrugged. “I have no idea. Perhaps he bribed a servant? We have several who live in the village and come in to work during the day. An extra coin would be quite tempting to some of the poorest. We shall try to pry that out of Travers when he awakens.”

Georgie looked over at the downed peer. He hadn’t moved a muscle. “Do you think he’s dead?”

“Dead? Who is dead?” Elizabeth rounded the corner of the doorway, her dressing gown flying out behind her, and stopped short. “Oh, dear Lord. Is Lord Travers dead?” She wrinkled her nose. “What is that odor? It smells like—”