* * *
She was in a deep sleep when a pounding sound awakened her. Her brain was too foggy to determine what the noise was or where it came from. Cursing, Adam left their bed, stumbled to the door, and cracked it open.
Who would be disturbing them at this hour? She bolted up in her bed, gathering the blankets to cover her shoulders.
"So sorry to be disturbing you, sir," a woman said, "but a gent in the tavern says it's prodigiously important that he speak to you at once."
"You must have the wrong room."
"Yer Mr. Birming'am? Mr. Adam Birming'am?"
"That's right."
"'E said 'e's come from Lunnon. Something important about yer bank."
Adam cursed again. "I'll be right down."
Judging by how much the logs in their hearth had burned, she would estimate it must be around midnight. The candlelight flickered on Adam's lean torso as he slipped his shirt over his head.
"Can I be of any help?" she asked.
"No. Try to go back to sleep." He sat on the bed and attempted to put on his boots.
She got up, came to him, then kneeled on the floor in front of her husband. "Here, let me help."
A moment later, he was donning his coat. His hand on the door knob, he turned back to her. "I'll be right back."
She had just slipped back into their bed when the door to their chamber opened.
"You're certainly back - -." She saw that it wasn't Adam. A strange man with a patch over his left eye stormed into her room.
"You have the wrong room!"
He closed the door behind him and came closer to her. "No I don't, Mrs. Birming'am."
Terror shot through her. Did the man mean to ravish her? She leapt from the bed and backed herself into a corner.
Not the brightest move.
He moved to her. Not tall like Adam, this horrid man was extremely muscular. And menacing. And she did not know how she could protect herself against him. If only she had a weapon.
By the time she remembered Anne Fortescue's brothers' advice about kneeing in the groin, the man with the eye patch had completely backed into the corner with her. She couldn't have placed a book between them. Heartbeat stampeding, she fought him when he tried to tie a large sash around her mouth. He didn't want anyone to hear her scream. Her strength was no match for his. Her cries were successfully muffled.
Good Lord, is he going to kill me? She suddenly remembered about all those mad men Aunt Harriett had told her about in wicked London. She fleetingly thought of the man on the horse who had followed them that day they went to Madame De Guerney's. Had he followed her to Yorkshire?
He lifted her body off the floor and flung her over his shoulders. She tried to scream, but the cloth muffled her sounds. Hadn't Adam said he'd be right back? She prayed he'd come storming through that door and save her.
"I'm getting you out of 'ere right now before yer 'usband gets wise and comes back."
Chapter 17
Where in the devil was the person who wished to see him? Adam went from one downstairs parlor to another, but each chamber was empty. Had everyone gone to bed? What the devil time was it? When he neared the tap room—the last chamber—he heard voices. Not as many as there had been earlier, but at least someone was still awake. There, he would surely find the man responsible for intruding on his sleep.
Interruption of sleep aside, he could not help but to be upset. He thought of his bank as other men thought of their children. It had been his life for the past decade. What could have gone wrong?
One aproned man stood behind the bar; two faced it. All three looked up when he entered the chamber, then they went back to their conversation without acknowledging his presence. That none of them attempted to speak to him told him none of them could be the man who sought him.
He waited for a few moments. When no one tried to approach him, he approached the bar.
"What would you like, sir?" the man behind the bar asked.
"A woman whom I believe works for you awakened me a few minutes ago and told me that a man wished to see me downstairs on a vastly important matter."
The bartender's bushy brows lowered. "Are you certain the woman was one of my staff? No woman has worked 'ere this hour past."
"I'm not really certain. My name's Adam Birmingham. Has anyone been asking for me?"
The man shook his head solemnly. "No one besides these two men has been 'ere in the past 'alf hour."
The other two men nodded in confirmation.
Adam exhaled angrily. What was he to do? His first instinct was to await the man here in the tavern.