A Cold Legacy (The Madman's Daughter 3)

“Ready the horse,” Montgomery called. “We’re leaving!”

A shot rang toward us, and Montgomery cried out.

I skidded to a stop. The sound tore into me as though I’d been the one hit. I whirled around. Blood poured out of Montgomery’s shoulder. A startled-looking officer with a shaking pistol stood a block away, no doubt summoned by the alarm.

“Balthazar, Montgomery’s been shot!” I yelled.

Balthazar steadied his rifle toward the officer, who leaped back to take cover behind a shop. It gave me just enough time to help Montgomery limp to the pony trap. Balthazar tossed me the rifle while he took up the reins.

“Go!” I cried. Balthazar whipped the horse, which tore into the narrow streets while Montgomery winced with pain. I remembered our quick, stolen kiss in the closet. I wasn’t ready for that to be the last.

The trap jostled as we rode onto uneven pavement, and I clutched the rifle harder. The world rushed by, flashes of store awnings and church doors and holiday wreaths. The fog was so thick I could barely make out anything but the buildings on either side of us.

“Are they following us?” I called.

“No, Miss,” Balthazar said. “I would smell their horses.”

It was a small relief, with Montgomery bleeding.

“It’s only my shoulder,” he mumbled, eyes shut in pain. “I’ll be fine.”

“You’ve been shot!”

“It’s hardly the first time.”

Balthazar jerked the trap down a side road, then another. We left the city with no sign of Radcliffe in pursuit, but Balthazar wove in and out of small hamlets to throw them off, just in case. I was vaguely aware of the view changing from city to villages to endless moors, though my attention was far more on Montgomery. Under Balthazar’s lead the horse calmed to a quick but steady speed, and I did what I could to tend to the wound, then stroked Montgomery’s head.

“Another few hours,” I said. “Just hold on. I think we got away.”

“We have to get back to Ballentyne.” Montgomery coughed. “He won’t find us there.”

“Are you sure? The Radcliffe family has lots of connections and resources.”

“So does the von Stein family. He didn’t find us before and he won’t now. Ballentyne Manor isn’t even in Elizabeth’s name. Valentina was the only way he might have discovered our whereabouts, but she certainly isn’t going to tell him now.” He placed a hand over mine, too weak to squeeze it for reassurance. “The rest of Elizabeth’s servants are loyal. As long as we remain at Ballentyne, we’ll be safe.”

I bit my lip, watching the moors pass. “I don’t understand what he wants from us. He doesn’t care about the science; he was only after the profitability. Now that the science is gone, there’s no money to be made from it.”

Montgomery clutched his shoulder. “You did murder three of his colleagues.”

I stared at him. “You think this is about revenge?” It hadn’t ever occurred to me that Radcliffe had considered Dr. Hastings, Isambard Lessing, and Inspector Newcastle anything other than business associates. But there had been that photograph of them as young men in the hallways of King’s College. They had known each other for decades. Had they been close associates? Even confidants? Friends?

“It’s the only thing I can fathom,” Montgomery said. “We could discuss it with Lucy. She knows him better than anyone.”

“She’s been so distraught over Edward that any more bad news will crush her.” I let out a frustrated sigh. “I suppose it doesn’t matter what he wants, does it? As long as we stay at Ballentyne, he won’t find us. Maybe Lucy doesn’t even need to know he’s the one after us.”

Soon Quick appeared on the horizon, and I knew we were getting close. I’d never been so relieved to see the familiar shape of Ballentyne on the horizon. Elizabeth would tend to Montgomery. We’d be safe, once more, within those walls. In a way, it felt like coming home.

Balthazar pulled the pony trap as close to the front as he could and leaped out to help me carry Montgomery to the front door. We put his arms around each of our shoulders, hobbling up the steps. It was strange that Lucy and Elizabeth weren’t already rushing out the front door to help us. Surely they’d been keeping a lookout. But the house was eerily quiet as I pounded on the door.

“Elizabeth!” I yelled. “It’s me. Montgomery’s wounded!”

Montgomery winced in pain. Still, no one came to the door.

“Where would they have gone?” I asked.

I pounded on the door harder, and to my surprise it gave an inch. Unlocked. Fear crept up my back as I pushed the groaning hinges open another inch, just wide enough to peer within.

“Juliet, wait,” Montgomery said. “Something’s wrong. Let Balthazar go first.”

Balthazar pushed open the door, taking a few steps inside. “Hello?” he called.

The only response was silence. He poked his head out again.

“Stay here, Miss. I’m going to check the kitchen and upstairs bedrooms.”

I nodded, pacing slightly, not sure if I should worry more about Montgomery’s labored breathing or the fact that the entire house seemed to have vanished. We waited twenty minutes, then thirty, and still there was no sign of Balthazar.

“I can’t stand this,” I said. “Something must have happened to him. I’m going in.”

Montgomery shot me a look. “Like hell you are.”

“You aren’t exactly in a position to stop me. Stay here and try not to freeze.”

I went to the pony trap and took out a blanket and two rifles. I pushed one into Montgomery’s hand, and then cracked the other one to make certain it was loaded. I took a deep breath and stepped into the foyer.

My boots echoed on the stone floors. The electric lights weren’t working, and the grand fire looked as though it had been out for hours. When I pressed my hand against it, the ashes were cold. I dusted off my hand, heart pounding in my ears, as I headed for the stairs to the second floor with only the mottled light of day through the windows to light my way.

I was halfway up the stairs when a pot dropped in the kitchen, and I whirled around.

“Balthazar?” I called. “Is that you?”

I slowly descended the stairs, crossing the foyer to the rear hallway that led to the kitchen. I kept the rifle cocked and aimed in front of me, though without the electric lights, it was black as night. I could make out only the shadows of doorways off the hall until I entered the kitchen, where a few small windows let in shadowy light.