“Very sporting of you.”

“Damn, but now I'm going to have to send one of those idiots”—he flicked his head toward the outer room—” back out after your wife.”

Charles began to struggle against his bindings. “If you harm a hair on her head…”

“Charles, I just told you I'm going to kill her,” Cecil said with a chuckle. “I shouldn't worry too much about her hair, were I you.”

“You will rot in hell for this.”

“Undoubtedly. But I shall have a grand time here on earth beforehand.” Cecil scratched his chin. “I don't really trust them to do a good job with your wife. I'm amazed they managed to get you here without mishap.”

“I wouldn't call this lump on my head ‘without mishap.’”

“I have it! You shall write her a note. Lure her out of the safety of her home. I understand the two of you have been quite amorous of late. Make her think you have arranged a lovers' tryst. She'll come running. Women always do.”

Charles started thinking quickly. Cecil didn't realize that he and Ellie had already guessed that someone was out to do them harm. Ellie would never believe that Charles would plan a tryst amidst such danger. She would immediately suspect foul play. Charles was sure of it.

But he didn't want to raise Cecil's suspicions by appearing too eager to write the note, so he twisted his face away and spat out, “I won't do anything to lure Ellie to her death.”

Cecil strode forward and yanked Charles to his feet. “She's going to die in any case, so she might as well do it with you.”

“You'll have to untie my hands,” Charles said, keeping his voice sullen.

“I'm not as stupid as you think.”

“And I'm not as dexterous as you think,” Charles shot back. “Do you want my handwriting to look like chicken scrawl? Ellie isn't stupid. She'll be suspicious if she receives a note that doesn't look to be in my hand.”

“Very well. But don't try anything heroic.” Cecil pulled out a knife and a pistol. He used the knife to cut through the rope around Charles's wrists and kept the pistol pointed at his head.

“Have you any paper?” Charles asked sarcastically. “A quill? Ink, perhaps?”

“Shut up.” Cecil paced across the room, keeping the pistol pointed at Charles, who couldn't have gone for in any case with his feet tied together. “Damn.”

Charles started to laugh.

“Shut up!” Cecil Screamed. He turned to the doorway and yelled, “Baxter!”

A burly man opened the door. “Wot?”

“Get me some paper. And ink.”

“And a quill,” Charles said helpfully.

“I don't think there's any of that 'ere,” Baxter said.

“Then go buy some!” Cecil screamed, his entire body shaking.

Baxter crossed his arms. “You ‘aven’t paid me for nabbing the earl yet.”

“For the love of God,” Cecil hissed. “I'm working with idiots.”

Charles watched with interest as Baxter's expression grew dark. Perhaps he could turn him against Cecil.