“James! You’re hurting me.”
“Pardon,” he said absently, still without taking his gaze from the other man, and dropped her arm. “Now you, Netherly.”
Laura saw that Claude had come into the foyer behind them. He, too, was watching Netherly. What in the world was going on? Mr. Netherly’s eyes flickered from James to Claude, and after a moment’s hesitation, he began slowly down the steps.
James waited. Laura saw that his right hand was curling into a fist. She wanted to blurt out a question—or a dozen—but the silence was too fraught with tension. She dared not distract James.
Netherly paused again on the bottom step, and James tightened all over, like an animal about to spring. At that instant a series of joyous barks erupted from the far end of the hall, and Demosthenes, fresh from his walk, charged down the hall to greet James. Startled, he glanced toward the noise. Netherly seized that moment to leap past him.
James whirled, reaching for the other man, but he was too late. Netherly grabbed Laura and jerked her back against him, one arm holding her tightly against his chest and his other hand encircling her throat.
“Don’t.” He tightened his hand around Laura’s neck, cutting off her air. “I’ll kill her.”
James stopped, raising his hands in a peaceful gesture. “I’m not going to do anything. Just let her go.”
Strangely enough, the uppermost emotion in Laura was not fear, but irritation—beginning with her initial annoyance at James and fueled by her anger—equally divided between Netherly for grabbing her and herself for standing there flat-footed and getting caught. She wasn’t sure what was going on—impossible as it seemed, surely it must be that Tessa’s poet was the man who had tried to kill her—but she refused to let him use her to escape.
“Get away from the door.” Netherly’s words were for Claude, who stood between him and the entrance, but he kept his gaze on James.
James gave a short nod to his brother, and Claude stepped aside. Demosthenes had come to a halt beside James, greeting forgotten as the dog lowered his head, growling, his lip curling up from his teeth.
“Stay,” James told the dog, his voice carefully calm. “He’s not going to hurt her. Are you? So far you haven’t managed to actually kill anyone. You don’t want to murder a woman in front of a houseful of witnesses.”
“No,” Netherly agreed, ignoring the numerous gasps from the spectators down the hall. “So do as I say, and Lady de Vere will be fine. Open the door.”
At a nod from James, Claude opened the front door. Her captor began to move backward, dragging Laura with him. As he stepped into the open doorway, Laura threw herself down and to the side as hard as she could. Netherly’s hand clenched, clamping off her breath, but the sudden violent shifting of her weight sent him lurching against the doorjamb. James sprang forward. Netherly flung Laura at him, then took to his heels.
James caught Laura and bent to peer into her face. She gasped for breath, nodding to assure him that she was all right. They turned to look out the door, as all the other occupants crowded into the foyer behind them, exclaiming and asking questions.
Mr. Netherly was running away across the wide lawn, with Claude chasing him, but neither of them could match the speed of the huge dog that bounded after them. Demosthenes passed Claude and launched himself at Netherly, landing with all his nearly two hundred pounds and knocking Netherly to the ground.
James smiled, his arm tightening around Laura, but he called, “Hold! Dem, hold!”
Demosthenes, standing with his front paws firmly on the recumbent man’s chest, cast James a look so full of disapproval that Laura almost laughed. Claude tried to haul the man to his feet, but Dem was disinclined to budge. Finally, James, who had not yet let go of his tight hold on Laura, heaved a sigh and handed her into his mother’s care, then went to shift Demosthenes off the prone form. He didn’t hurry.
Demosthenes was rewarded with a large meaty bone in the kitchen. Claude and James hauled the wobbling Mr. Netherly back into the house and into the drawing room. Everyone else crowded in after the three men.
James cast a quick glance around, seeking Laura. He could still taste the sick fear he’d felt at seeing her in Netherly’s grasp, the man’s hand around her throat. He had to clamp down hard to keep fury from surging up and overwhelming him. His eyes found Laura standing beside his mother, the two women’s arms around each other’s waists. He wasn’t sure who was supporting whom, but with Walter hovering around them, too, he trusted that Laura was in safe hands.
His business was with Netherly. Shoving the man into a chair, James stepped back, leaving Claude beside his mother’s erstwhile swain, a heavy hand on his shoulder. The man’s eyes flickered around the room, doubtlessly hoping to find support. The room fell silent, but James waited, idly tugging his cuffs into place, letting the tension build in his quarry.