Chapter 21

A loud percussion boomed outside the ballroom, causing everything but the musicians to go silent. When Phileas turned to check on Katharine after the first shock of it. He saw Rebecca leave the lady with her guard and head his way. The nearest window showed fireworks flying high into the air from the staging area, shattering the darkness of the night. Andrew came up behind them. It started with just four or five rockets. Then The sparks from that set off others.

"I had best see what that is about," Rebecca said before walking off.

The two men turned from the window. Katharine and her guard were missing. Before Phileas and Andrew could decide which way to turn, two young men Phileas did not know came asking if the guard had taken their cousin to some safe room.

Phileas did not know how he was so certain, but he knew something was now terribly wrong. "Who are you, and where did they go?" He demanded.

The two men turned out to be Katharine's cousins. They said the guard took her up the staircase. They all ran up the grand stair led by Phileas.

Sir James and three agents saw them running and joined them. Together, eight made quick but quiet work of a search of the upper floor. There were several corridors off the hall. Sir James opened one door on his side of the hall, an empty sitting room. It had a balcony with a stair heading down to the lawn. The door to the balcony stood open. Just as he turned to report his find, a muffled report came out of the darkness outside. The ex-soldier had a sudden sick feeling cut through his gut. Sir James quickly called the others to his position. They descended and scattered, looking for signs.

Scanning the yard, Fogg was the first to see a tall man forcing a woman to a stand of trees. She was wearing a dark dress with a shimmer of gold coming off the skirt. He and four others headed out to intercept them. Phileas recognized Agent Paine, the one they had entrusted the lady's life to forcing Katharine into the trees. Once under the cover, he threw her against a tree and turned away from him.

Phileas bolted forward as an arm went up. He grabbed it, pulling it and the agent away.

The agent turned, breaking Fogg's grip.

One agent with Phileas stepped up, taking a swing at the man's jaw. He connected, but with no apparent effect.

The would-be killer swung his knife in a wide arch, catching the retreating man's hand across the knuckles.

While he fended off the injured agent. Phileas saw one of Katharine's cousins come up on Paine's right. Sir James came on him from behind. Paine's head was twisted hard to the right.

Paine went down like a sack of flour. The injured agent checked for a pulse. There was none. Sir James viewed his work for only a moment before stooping down to check the dead man's coat.

The injured agent asked him what he was doing.

"I heard a shot just before we came down the stairs," he said.

"A shot!" Phileas took stock of the scene. He had one injured man. Everyone else appeared well.

Katharine had been held away from the fight in the arms of Lord McCollum. He was still holding her, shielding her from the sight of her now dead attacker. "Are you well?"

Pulling her head up to meet his eyes, she nodded her head.

Sir James finished his search and shook his head. "No gun."

"Did you catch her?" Katharine said.

Phileas spun around. "Catch who?"

Katharine spoke Robertson's name a few times but could not finish her thought. Phileas understood. "Where?"

Phileas ordered her relatives to take her home. He then ran with Rebecca's three agents to where Katharine had told him. They found the door… locked from the other side. It was too heavy to force open. With a loud oath, Phileas headed around the side of the building until he found another entrance. It led into the ballroom from a courtyard. He and the agents had to traverse the dance floor before backtracking through the building to the back stair door.

A young man who had been looking for Rebecca cross the room to Phileas as he crossed the dancefloor. Julian quickly introduced himself. "Katharine asked that I tell you about the woman who shot Robertson. She said the two of you have seen her before."

After getting the description, Phileas did a quick look around. The room was packed with women in fine ball gowns. "Dove gray was a popular color this year, and over half were blonde." He remembered the small woman who spoke to him at Lady Bucknum's house. She would be hard to find in this crowd. Fogg put two men on the coach door to watch for anyone of that description and took the other two with him to look for Rebecca.

Rebecca had gone to the fireworks staging area to investigate the commotion. It was just on the other side of the grounds, past the fence line. Twenty yards away they found her, minus her ball gown, in her fighting suit defending herself against two men welding pipes and another pushing her into a corner. He and her agents joined the fray and overcame two easily. Rebecca, now with even odds, took care of the other. A quick jab to the shoulder and her attacker stumbled back. One circle kick to the head sent him sprawling.

"Thank you," Rebecca said to those around her.

"You're welcome," Phileas answered. "Who are they?"

"I was wondering the same thing," Rebecca said. "They did not introduce themselves but do not come from the ball, not dressed for it." She bent down and checked through the pockets of the one she had just dispatched. "Nothing."

An agent with Phileas was holding one of their men to the ground. He was the only conscious one. His first answer to their questions was, "Go to hell."

"That's not nice," the agent said. A little more pressure on the man's arm and backbone with a knee and he became more polite and cooperative.

"Tall bloke over there hired us. He set off the fireworks to bring you and her out." Asking more, He gave them everything he had.

Rebecca retrieved her dress as they got their answers. "When did these things overlap each other? Just such poor timing, or is someone else after us?"

"Is Katharine alright?" Rebecca said.

"On her way home," Phileas said. He then related what had happened while she was gone. "Who was the woman?"

Rebecca thought for a moment. "I didn't know her. She made conversation with us and offered to tell you where we were."

"We had better get back."

Phileas helped Rebecca straighten her dress.

Once back inside, they checked the guards on the coach door. They had stopped all coach traffic to keep the woman from leaving. No one fitting the description had tried to leave.

Rebecca sent a note with an agent to find Chatsworth fast.

Phileas called a coach for them. There was no point in staying. They would find out who the woman was first thing in the morning. Chatsworth had set an appointment with Lady Bucknum. She would divulge her high society friend to him.

Fifteen minutes from the embassy on a quiet street, the coach lurched to a stop. A shot was fired, and their driver gave a shout. Neither one carried a gun. The only serviceable weapons Rebecca had were her throwing knives.

More shots, from behind them this time… Someone called to them. "Fogg! Miss Fogg! You can come out now!"

Fogg recognized the voice. It was the agent he had left with the two men who attacked Rebecca. He stepped out of the coach and found him rushing to him. "Good to see you again, sir," the agent said. "Alive that is."

"A most satisfactory thing for me, too."

"David Campbell, sir," he said. "The man Miss Fogg knocked out came back to consciousness. He is a Prussian assassin for hire. A call for your heads was made yesterday. I brought some men to catch up to make sure no one collected your bounty."

Rebecca stepped out of the coach. She looked over the fallen assassins. "This one I know. You should know him too, Phileas. Serbian, I think. Well, aren't we popular tonight?"

"You have my undying gratitude, sir," Rebecca said to the agent.

"The very least I could do for a fellow agent and friend of the family," Campbell said, giving Rebecca a bow.

"Do we know you?" Rebecca said. She looked to Phileas for help to place him.

"No, you have mistaken me," Campbell said. "The duchess is a distant cousin. I understand from another at the ball that you and she have become quite good friends. Excuse me, please." He left them to give orders to the others for the disposition of their attackers. Most were injured, but alive.

"More relations," Rebecca said. "Katharine has more cousins."

Phileas helped Rebecca back into the coach. "Let's get home. Chatsworth will want to see us right away."

Sir James had headed into the halls for the door Katharine told him of. He found the back stairway. There was no light. He called down first. Not getting an answer, he walked into the darkness.

His boot found Robertson's bulk crumpled near the door. He was still breathing.

Sir James squatted down and turned him over to his back and got a pained curse for his actions.

Robertson's eyes opened wide on him as the old marine grabbed him by the coat. The grip relaxed when James called to him.

"My Lady?"

"Safely on her way home," James said. "Old man, you had me worried."

"Just a scratch," he said. "It hurts like hell, though. You would not have a bottle with you?" James smiled and shook his head. He went back up the hall, scrounged for lamps and supplies. He returned, handing over a decanter small enough to fit in a pocket, and tore a few table clothes into strips for bandages.

By the time he was done, the bleeding had slowed, but not stopped. "I am going to get help. I will never get you out here by myself."

"You do that," Robertson said. "I will just rest a bit."

To be continued