The Mystery Woman Read Free

extremely limited, but it was the least of her concerns tonight. It was time for her to earn the excellent salary that the Flint & Marsh Agency paid her. She prayed she was not too late.
    Daphne and Euston had been dancing near the French doors when she had last seen them. It was likely that they had slipped out of the room via that route.
    Daphne’s grandmother, Lady Pennington, was on the far side of the ballroom chatting with three other ladies. There was no way to get to her to tell her what had happened without wasting precious time forging a path through the crowd.
    Beatrice had studied all of the exits from the ballroom an hour earlier when she and Lady Pennington and Daphne had arrived. At the time she had concluded that if someone was intent on compromising Daphne, as her grandmother feared, the villain would most likely lure his victim out into the night-shrouded gardens.
    At the end of the dimly lit hallway Beatrice opened the door she had noted earlier. She stepped out into the summer night and paused briefly to orient herself.
    A high wall surrounded the extensive gardens. Colorful lanterns illuminated a section around the terrace, but she stood in an unlit area near the gardener’s shed. The gate that opened onto the narrow lane behind the grounds was not far away. Anyone attempting to abduct a young lady would no doubt have a closed carriage waiting. The ballroom terrace was some distance away from her position. If she moved quickly she could get to the gate before Daphne and her abductor reached it.
    If
she moved quickly and
if
she was correct in her conclusions. So many ifs. It was quite possible that she was mistaken. Perhaps Daphne was at that very moment enjoying a light flirtation with the very attractive Mr. Euston, who intended no harm.
    But that did not explain the disappearance of the scarred stranger. Her intuition told her that it was not a coincidence that he, too, had vanished.
    She set her satchel beside the step, whisked up the hem of her gown and removed the small stocking gun from the dainty holster strapped just above her knee. She hurried toward the gate along an aisle formed by two rows of tall hedges. Her gray dress helped her blend into the shadows.
    When she neared the gate she heard the muffled sound of a horse stamping a shod hoof in the lane on the other side of the wall.
    She came to the end of the twin hedges and stopped. In the moonlight she could see that the gate was partially open. As she feared, a small, fast carriage stood waiting. There would be a second man with the vehicle.
    At that moment she heard the soft thud of rapid footsteps coming toward her through the garden. Whoever had taken Daphne would arrive in a matter of seconds. She could not deal with two villains simultaneously. It occurred to her that if she managed to close and lock the gate, the man with the carriage would not be able to come to his associate’s assistance.
    She rushed toward the gate and got it shut before the driver of the carriage realized what was happening. She slammed the lock into place and whirled around just as Richard Euston burst out of the shadows.
    Euston did not see her at first because he was concentrating on keeping a grip on Daphne, who was struggling valiantly. Her hands were bound in front of her and there was a gag in her mouth.
    Beatrice aimed the small gun at Euston. “Release Miss Pennington or I will shoot. At this range I cannot miss.”
    “What the bloody hell?” Euston stopped abruptly. His astonishment turned to anger. “You’re just the companion. What the devil do you think you’re doing? Open the gate.”
    “Let her go,” Beatrice said.
    “The hell I will,” Euston said. “She’s worth a fortune. Drop that silly little gun. We both know you won’t pull that trigger. You’re a paid companion, not a bodyguard.”
    “I never bluff,” Beatrice said.
    She cocked the pistol and aimed the barrel at Euston’s midsection. He seemed stunned that she actually