“So much for not sounding the alarm,” I muttered.
The sound of footsteps came behind us but I didn’t dare look back, not once, as we ran through the inn’s gardens and the maze of alleyways behind the fine shops. My eyes watered in the freezing air. At last we rounded a corner, where Balthazar waited with the carriage ahead.
“Ready the horse,” Montgomery called. “We’re leaving!”
A shot rang toward us, and Montgomery cried out.
I skidded to a stop. The sound tore into me as though I’d been the one hit. I whirled around. Blood poured out of Montgomery’s shoulder. A startled-looking officer with a shaking pistol stood a block away, no doubt summoned by the alarm.
“Balthazar, Montgomery’s been shot!” I yelled.
Balthazar steadied his rifle toward the officer, who leaped back to take cover behind a shop. It gave me just enough time to help Montgomery stumble to the pony trap. Balthazar tossed me the rifle while he took up the reins.
“Go!” I cried. Balthazar whipped the horse, which tore into the narrow streets while Montgomery winced with pain. I remembered our quick, stolen kiss in the closet. I wasn’t ready for that to be the last.
The trap jostled as we rode onto uneven pavement, and I clutched the rifle harder. The world rushed by, flashes of store awnings and church doors and holiday wreaths. The fog was so thick I could barely make out anything but the buildings on either side of us.
“Are they following us?” I called.
“No, miss,” Balthazar said. “I would smell their horses.”
It was a small relief, with Montgomery bleeding.
“It’s only my shoulder,” he mumbled, eyes shut in pain. “I’ll be fine.”
“You’ve been shot!”
“It’s hardly the first time.”
Balthazar jerked the trap down a side road, then another. We left the city with no sign of Radcliffe in pursuit, but Balthazar wove in and out of small hamlets to throw them off, just in case. As night grew I was vaguely aware of the view changing from city to villages to endless moors, though my attention was far more on Montgomery. Under Balthazar’s lead the horse calmed to a quick but steady speed, and I did what I could to tend to the wound, then stroked Montgomery’s head.
“Another few hours,” I said. “We’ll be there by morning. Just hold on. I think we got away.”
“We have to get back to Ballentyne.” Montgomery coughed. “He won’t find us there.”
“Are you sure? The Radcliffe family has lots of connections and resources.”
“So does the von Stein family. He didn’t find us before and he won’t now. Ballentyne Manor isn’t even in Elizabeth’s name. Valentina was the only way he might have discovered our whereabouts, but she certainly isn’t going to tell him now.” He placed a hand over mine, too weak to squeeze it for reassurance. “The rest of Elizabeth’s servants are loyal. As long as we remain at Ballentyne, we’ll be safe.”
I bit my lip, watching the moors pass. “I don’t understand what he wants from us. He doesn’t care about the science; he was only after the profitability. Now that the science is gone, there’s no money to be made from it.”
Montgomery clutched his shoulder. “You did murder three of his colleagues.”
I stared at him. “You think this is about revenge?” It hadn’t ever occurred to me that Radcliffe had considered Dr. Hastings, Isambard Lessing, and Inspector Newcastle anything other than business associates. But there had been that photograph of them as young men in the hallway of King’s College. They had known each other for decades. Had they been close associates? Even confidants? Friends?
“It’s the only thing I can fathom,” Montgomery said. “We could discuss it with Lucy. She knows him better than anyone.”
“She’s been so distraught over Edward that any more bad news will crush her.” I let out a frustrated sigh. “I suppose it doesn’t matter what he wants, does it? As long as we stay at Ballentyne, he won’t find us. Maybe Lucy doesn’t even need to know he’s the one after us.”
As the sun rose, Quick appeared on the horizon, and I knew we were getting close. I’d never been so relieved to see the familiar shape of Ballentyne. Elizabeth would tend to Montgomery. We’d be safe, once more, within those walls. In a way, it felt like coming home.
Balthazar pulled the pony trap as close to the front as he could and leaped out to help me carry Montgomery to the front door. It was strange that Lucy and Elizabeth weren’t already rushing out the front door to help us. Surely they’d been keeping a lookout. But the house was eerily quiet as I pounded on the door.
“Elizabeth!” I yelled. “It’s me. Montgomery’s wounded!”
Montgomery winced in pain. Still, no one came to the door.
“They must be awake by now,” I said. “Where would they have gone?”