She stilled herself and asked carefully, “What do you want?”
The someone, a man, demanded, “Where is the goblet?”
Vi didn’t answer immediately, and she heard the sound of a thump and a groan that she recognized as Denny’s from the many times he moaned and groaned in complaint. This time, however, it was in true pain and she heard his knees hit the floor. Vi was instantly afraid for her friend. A bit for herself if Denny’s presence meant no one knew they’d been taken.
“Don’t be stubborn, woman,” the man snapped. “Where is the goblet?”
“Don’t tell him anything, Vi,” Denny shouted and then grunted again. With a weak gasp, he breathed, “Bloody hell.”
Vi didn’t answer. Instead, she demanded, “What are you thinking?”
“Did you search the car?” the man holding her demanded.
Vi heard a groan from Denny and she tried not to think about what it meant.
“Of course I did,” a second voice answered.
“Nothing?”
“I would have told you,” the second voice groaned.
A third person said, “They’re going to see the auto and come looking.” This voice was younger and had a slight rasp, and he sounded far more worried than the others.
“She’s notoriously unpredictable,” the first voice said. “It will take time for them to be truly worried.”
Denny laughed even though she could tell he was in pain. “That’s what you get for your devilry, Vi.”
Denny groaned again and Vi tried to jerk away from the fellow holding her but failed. His fingers dug in hard, and she had little doubt they’d leave bruises.
“You don’t want to hurt us,” Vi tried. “You don’t want my husband to filet you.”
“I already have,” the man said. There was the sound of another thud and Denny groaned.
“By Jove, man,” Denny yelped. “Would you stop? We don’t have your cup. Obviously.”
“Oscar?” Vi asked and a sudden silence told her what she needed to know. She couldn’t see them and they couldn’t see her expression, so they didn’t know they’d given themselves away.
“Where is the goblet?” he demanded again. “We know you had it today.”
“We don’t have the cup now,” Vi snapped. “So, what’s your plan?”
It was obvious where it was if Vi and Denny didn’t have it and reasoning must have caught up with the three who were holding them. Vi heard another thump and another groan. This time the sound of a body hit the floor.
“Do I have to hit you as well,” the man holding her threatened, “or will you remain here like a good girl?”
Vi didn’t bother to answer the fiend, but she intended to show him exactly what kind of ‘good girl’ she was. Before she could move, however, someone grabbed her wrists and bound them and a moment later, a wooden door slammed shut.
Vi yanked at her wrists and she had enough give to snake them under the hood over her head and shake it off. She bit at the loosened bonds and got them off her wrists and then rushed to Denny. He was on the ground and unmoving.
“Denny,” Vi groaned. She knelt next to him, checking his pulse. She felt the beating of his heart and turned him onto his back.
He groaned and Vi gasped. “Denny? Please be all right.”
He didn’t awaken, but he was breathing and not bleeding. She pressed her hands against his face in apology and then pushed up to her feet. Denny needed help.
She turned and took in her surroundings. They were, she thought, in one of those outhouses near the side of the garden. Vi tried the door, but it wouldn’t budge. The vague memory of noises after they’d tied her must have been the men locking her and Denny into the shed.
She muttered an insult and turned, taking in the small window.
“It seems, dear Violet,” she told herself, “you haven’t finished climbing out windows today.”
The light was low, but there was enough to see that they were in a gardening shed. It took a moment to find a heavy shovel. She slammed it through the window, knocking out as much of the panes of glass as she could.
“Hello!” she shouted. Her voice was rougher than she thought it should be.
No one replied, so Vi grabbed the hood that had been placed over her head to protect her hands as she crawled through the window. When she was half-free, Vi saw someone heading towards her end of the garden. Someone had heard her. She laughed in relief when she recognized the footman and tried to call, “Johnny.”
Her voice was weakening from the pressure of the window frame on her abdomen, however, so she slithered out of the window and landed hard in the dirt before she could shout again, “Johnny!”
“Mrs. Wakefield?” She heard the shock in his voice and rolled onto her back. Her dress had ripped, and her forearms were bloody as she pushed up onto her hands and knees. Johnny reached her and pulled her up.
“What happened?” Johnny gasped.
Vi shook her head and lurched towards the shed door. “Help me with this door. Denny is inside.”
“Ma’am?”
“Denny!” Vi shouted as though Johnny would understand if she was louder. Then she saw Jack coming out of the house. “Denny! Jack, help! It’s Denny!”
Jack knew the tone of Vi’s voice when she was in true distress, and he rushed towards her. As he ran across the green, she shouted, “Denny’s in the shed, Jack. We were ambushed.”
“Is he alive?”
Vi nodded and tried to answer at the same. Jack reached her and then moved past her, kicking at the jammed door.
“Call a doctor,” he ordered.
Vi gasped and hurried past Jack, running for the house with the gait of an injured antelope. She staggered up the steps and through the door when Johnny caught her when she would have fallen.
Of course Jack meant for Johnny to run to the house, not her, but it was too late now.
“Mrs. Vi!” Hargreaves gasped. Vi took his arm, leaning on him. She must have injured her ankle.
“The telephone,” she
