Primrose turned to run but was grabbed from behind by her skirts. Seizing one of the pots close at hand, she swung around and broke it against the face of the man hanging on to her skirts. He let go of her to clutch at his bleeding head with one hand and she read her murder in the furious gaze he fixed on her.
She was yanking her skirts free of his grasp when Jenson stumbled into the room, so pale that she feared he was about to swoon. Right behind him stood Mrs. Jakes who looked as angry as she did afraid and Primrose’s heart sank. It did not surprise her when Mrs. Jakes was shoved into the room and Augusta appeared behind her, a pistol pressed hard up against Mrs. Jakes’s back.
“You, m’dear, have been a very great nuisance,” said Augusta.
“I do so beg your pardon for that, Aunt, but I cannot but wish to avoid your plans for me as they appear to be very unpleasant ones.”
“Carl, stop moaning and get her.” Augusta looked at Primrose. “You really do not wish me to shoot Mrs. Jakes, do you, dear? So, be a good child and come quietly.”
Mrs. Jakes let out a soft moan and dropped, her whole body going limp and tumbling to the floor with surprising grace. Primrose almost laughed at the way Augusta nearly fell on top of the woman. Mrs. Jakes was not small and had almost succeeded in taking Augusta down with her. Primrose rushed toward the back door that led out into the gardens, frantically wondering where everyone was for they had to have heard all the noise. Right behind her she could hear the man chasing her down. She yanked open the door and caught a brief glimpse of everyone riding off toward Courtyard Manor and Geoffrey before she was wrenched back against the man called Carl.
He wrapped one arm around her neck and slammed the door shut. Primrose did her best to fight free of his hold, her flailing feet connecting several times with his legs. Then pain exploded in her head and she fell into a black emptiness.
“You better not have hurt her too badly,” snapped Augusta as she watched Carl drag an unconscious Primrose back toward her. “I need to be able to talk to her and she needs to be able to make sense.”
“She will wake. I did not hit her that hard. Where do you want her?”
Augusta looked around the room and pointed to a sturdy chair set by a worktable covered in pots and small gardening tools. “We need to get her to the church. Secure her and then help me get these two old fools locked up with the other servants.”
Chapter Eighteen
As they left Willow Hill, Lilybet looked back toward the house and thought she saw Primrose attempt to run out of a side door to join them. Then she was gone and Lilybet frowned even as several visions ran through her mind. She looked at Bened, opened her mouth, and then shut it. Instinct was screaming at her not to say anything to him about the danger Primrose was in. She wanted to tell that voice to shut up but she had come to trust it too much. Shaking her head, she decided it was Geoffrey and his family that they needed to save first and then she would warn them all about the trouble Primrose was in.
Once near enough to the manor to finish the trip on foot, Bened led everyone right up to the house. He signaled Bevan whose gift would come in very handy at the moment. “Need to see inside this room. The enemy is in there. We need to know if the family is as well.” While Bevan did what he was so good at and looked into the room, Bened moved closer to Lilybet who stood quietly and scowled down at the ground. “There is one man in the kitchens keeping the servants from escaping. I wish I could tell you how many servants but I cannot feel them as I can someone who is a threat.”
She nodded. “The gifts all have something like that, something you wish they would do but never do. Sometimes they also do things you wish they would not especially if they make you follow what path they want you to and not the one you think you should. Do you want me to go help them?”
Deciding that now was not a good time to ask her what she meant, Bened nodded. “As soon as Bevan is done and we know who is in this room I want you to head toward the kitchens. Once we strike out, if we can, the servants may need help but it is certain the enemy you must seek out will do one of two things.”
“Turn on the servants or run for his miserable, stinking life.”
“Exactly.” She did, he realized, have a somewhat military mind and that made this all that much easier. “We do not want him to do either. Do you think you can judge which way he will turn at the right moment?”
“Aye. Close to the kitchen as I will be, the fear of whoever he has trapped there will give me enough of a connection I may well see what to do or what I am supposed to do.”
“Good. Just do not put yourself in any serious danger.” Because Simeon would want to kill me, Bened thought to himself, but kept silent.