Page 67 of What a Widow Wants

The creak of the barn door sent tension flooding through Fanny’s entire body. Motionless, she listened for additional rasping of the ancient hinges. The wind might have picked up enough to swing the door back and forth. Such a sound would likely have awoken her. As she was about to release the breath she held, the whisper of voices froze her heart and sent fear licking through her veins.

Men’s voices, louder as they came through the door, on the far side of the room where she and Ella lay.

“I can’t see anything.” A man with a gruff voice whispered loudly in the darkness.

“Quiet, ye daft nigit.” The insistent voice was quieter, but held more menace. “Yer wanna give ’um notice so they can squawk?”

“Let’s get on with it. I told you I didn’t want to get wrapped up in crashin’ no woman.”

The third man’s words sounded ominous, especially the part about “crashin’ ” a woman. Fanny didn’t know what that meant, but it didn’t sound like it boded well for her. Breathing shallowly so as to make no noise, she prayed the three would simply miss them in the dark and move on.

“We wouldn’t be in this pickle, Tom, if you’d been on time,” the menacing voice growled. “I tole ye t’ meet us at the Chequers at noon. Then we’d be to the dancin’ tree well before the carriage arrived.”

Fanny’s heart beat quicker. These ruffians had planned to meet at the same inn she’d been at. Worse, their mention of the “dancing tree” shot dread through her. That was how she had described that one tree to Ella. Dear God, were these men after them?

“I couldn’t help it that my wife’s family arrived at dawn.” The gravelly voiced man sounded put upon. “I was lucky to escape when I did. Her mother is a rare harpy. Coulda had me choppin’ wood and fetchin’ water most of the day.”

“But if you hadn’t been late, my fine fellow, we woulda been at the dancin’ tree afore the bitch got there. But you were late so we had to follow her. We coulda done our work and been home afore now.”

“Go explain that to my wife, then. Tell her I had to leave her and her god-awful mother to go throttle a woman.”

“You’d better hope you can explain it to Mr. Davies if we don’t find them.”

Clenching her teeth to keep from crying out, Fanny forced herself to lie still even though fear had seized her in a death grip. Davies had arranged for these men to accost her and Ella. The ever-present question was why.

“That’s one thing I don’t like, Mick. Doin’ for a woman, well, that ain’t too bad, but killing a child just don’t set right with me.”

Please let them leave. Please let them leave. Fanny swallowed convulsively and prayed harder.

“Mr. Davies said the marquess particularly wanted the brat crashed, but don’t you worry none, Jack.”

Fanny could hear the evil smile in his voice.

“I’ll do for the kid. Then we’ll all do for the highflyer.”

Theale. Theale wanted them dead. Had he taken her words as truth, that she would advertise the circumstances of Ella’s birth? Or did he simply want to erase the blot on Stephen’s name permanently? Her brother-in-law must have run mad to think he could get away with this.

“You look over in that room to yer right, Tom. Jack, you check up in the loft. Mebbe they climbed up there t’ get off the floor. I’ll look about down here. Wish there was a moon tonight.”

“How d’you know they’s even in here, Mick?”

“We follow’d um from the dancin’ tree, noddy. Where else they gonna go, up a tree? This is the only place they coulda gone to sleep for the night. Now get to it.”

Quick fumbling sounds ensued as one of the ruffians shambled off to the right. Another set of footsteps moved restlessly, eventually retreating until that man shuffled out of the room. That left the menacing man, who moved off to the left of the pile of hay. He hadn’t discovered it yet.

The man lumbered around and Fanny lost track of where he stood. Finally, the creaking of a ladder told her one of the ruffians had gone to the loft.

Forced to lie still in the dark, unable to even attempt to flee or find a better hiding place, Fanny prayed harder for the men to leave. Rustling in the hay on the far side of the pile made her hold her breath. One of the men had found her hiding place. Would he find her? She couldn’t tell for sure, but she prayed none of them carried a lantern. If she were lucky they might miss her and Ella in the dark.

Suddenly the rustling stopped and someone’s footsteps scraped the floor as they moved away from her. Fanny released her breath slowly. Complete silence descended upon the barn and she sent up a prayer of thanksgiving.

A hand clamped down on her leg and jerked her out of the hay.

CHAPTER 29

Fanny screamed as one of the ruffians pulled her from her hiding place.

“There you are, milady.” The smug voice of the menacing ruffian sent a shiver of fear running through her. “Right naughty of you to hide from us. Tom, Jack, I got ’er. Bring the lantern.”