His Wicked Charm. Candace Camp

stopped. Lilah climbed in after him. Con cast a glance at her, and for a moment Lilah thought he was going to protest her presence, but he only turned and called out an address to the driver.

      He looked nothing like he usually did, his eyes as fierce as they were normally laughing, his mobile face stern and set, his body taut. He had undergone the same transformation two months ago when he had raced to free his twin.

      Lilah wanted to ask him about Anna’s bizarre pronouncement. Anna seemed the calmest of all the Morelands, but nothing could have been madder than her staring eyes and terrifying words. Yet Con and his brother Reed, while alarmed, had not appeared surprised. Moreover, it was clear that Con believed what she said, dashing off immediately to his mother and sisters.

      But that was absurd. Wasn’t it? Anna couldn’t have actually seen something happening in another place. No doubt Lilah and Con would arrive at their destination to find the women unharmed and exactly where they were supposed to be. They would all laugh over it. “Anna must have had a nightmare. It was her headache. One often has strange dreams when one is ill.”

      Con shook his head. “She saw it.”

      That was nonsense of course, but she didn’t want to argue when he was so worried. “Why would anyone want to harm the duchess?”

      He cast her an eloquent glance.

      “Well, yes, the duchess could have antagonized a number of people over the years, but surely not enough to harm her.” Lilah frowned. “Do you think the police arrested the suffragists? For simply standing in front of someone’s house?” She realized that now she was talking as if it had really happened.

      “Lord only knows what they were doing. But no, I doubt it was the police,” he replied grimly.

      The carriage had been traveling at a fast clip but now, after careening around a corner, came to an abrupt stop. Lilah looked out the window and saw a number of women milling about in the street in front of a stately residence. Signs were tossed here and there, and everyone was talking excitedly. A policeman was arguing with one of the women, and several other women were clustered around something on the sidewalk. Was that a body?

      Con let out an oath and threw open the carriage door, running to the constable. Lilah cast another quick glance around as she stepped down from the vehicle. She could see none of the Moreland women.

      “Here, now!” The cabdriver protested at Con’s abrupt departure without paying him.

      “Stay here,” Lilah ordered crisply. They would need transportation home as soon as Con found his family.

      She caught up to Con at the side of the policeman. He was barking questions at the man. “What the devil happened here? Where is the duchess?”

      “Wh-who? I don’t know, sir! I just arrived.”

      The woman who had been talking to the constable, a solid woman dressed in the style of the rational dress movement, let out a snort. “You’d do better if you tried listening, young man.”

      “Mrs. Ellerby.” Con moved to the woman’s side.

      “Lord Moreland! Thank heavens you’re here. They attacked us!”

      “Who?”

      “The police, most likely.” She turned to glare at the unfortunate policeman, who began to splutter.

      “No, there weren’t any uniforms!” another woman put in.

      “It was a gang of ruffians! I saw them. All in black, with masks on.”

      “Oh, Ernestine, what rubbish,” Mrs. Ellerby declared. “There weren’t any masks, just caps pulled down so you could barely see their faces.”

      “They might as well have been masks.”

      “Mrs. Ellerby,” Con said through clenched teeth. “Where is my mother?”

      “She’s gone! They drove up and jumped out and grabbed them. The duchess and her girls, all of them—except for Lady Raine.” She gestured toward the women hovering over the thing on the sidewalk.

      “Megan!” Con went pale and whipped around.

      It was a body. Lilah’s breath caught, and she ran after Con. The women stepped aside at Con’s approach, revealing the woman on the ground. It was indeed Megan, but she was now sitting up.

      “Thank God. Megan.” Con scooped Megan up and set her on the low stone wall that edged the property. He squatted down to look her in the eye. “Are you all right?”

      “Of course she’s not all right.” Lilah sat down beside Megan. “Why do people always say that?”

      Dirt and grit decorated Megan’s dress. There was a large red spot on her cheekbone, and the skin around it had started to swell. The other side of her face was scraped and dirty. Her hat hung down, barely anchored by the long hatpin, along with strands of reddish-brown hair. Her eyes had a glassy look that worried Lilah. Lilah pulled out her handkerchief and began to gently brush the grime from Megan’s face.

      “Megan.” Con took one of her hands. “Say something. Anything. Tell me to hush, even.”

      That brought a faint smile to Megan’s lips. “I’m fine.” She cleared her throat and straightened. “Really. I—I’m just a little woozy. I think I hit my head.” She gestured toward the back of her head.

      Lilah twisted around to look and let out a gasp. “Con! Her hair is bloody.”

      Con was instantly up and bending over Megan. He pulled out a pristine white handkerchief from his pocket and pressed it gently against Megan’s wound. His voice was as gentle as his hand as he went on, “What happened, Megan?”

      “I heard someone scream, and I turned around. And I saw these men—they’d grabbed Kyria, so all the others were trying to stop them. I ran to help, but I was too far away. So I picked up some rocks and started throwing them at the man Thisbe was fighting. Olivia was trying to free Kyria. Then he came after me and punched me.”

      Lilah saw fury light up in Con’s eyes, but he kept his voice even. “He knocked you down?”

      Megan nodded, then winced at the movement. “Yes. I hit the ground. I remember that but nothing afterward. I must have hit my head when I fell. Next thing I knew, I was lying on the ground and Miss Withers here was trying to awaken me.”

      Con looked at the other women. “What happened after that?”

      “Those men threw all of them in the carriage and took off. They were gone before any of the rest of us could move a muscle. I’m so sorry.” Tears sprang into Miss Withers’s eyes. “I wasn’t any use at all.”

      “Which way did they go?”

      “Down the side street.” She pointed.

      “They turned left at the first street,” one of the other women offered. “Then they were out of sight.”

      Con shoved the handkerchief into Lilah’s hand and took off at a run.

      “He won’t see them. They must be long gone.” Lilah watched Con as she held his handkerchief to Megan’s head.

      “That won’t keep him from trying,” Megan replied, a thread of amusement in her voice. Lilah looked into Megan’s eyes and saw that they were clearer.

      Con stopped at the end of the block and stood for a long moment, looking to his left, before he loped back to them. With Lilah’s help, Megan rose to meet him.

      Con’s jaw was set and his eyes blazing. “Lilah, take Megan back to the house. I’m going after them.”

      “How do you intend to do that?” Lilah asked. “You don’t know where they’ve gone.”

      “I’ll figure it out.”

      “That sounds excellent,” Lilah said crisply, taking Megan’s elbow