“I’ve no intention of going along with your scheme.”
“As I see it, you really don’t have a choice. I won’t hurt you. I promise you that.” Raibert sounded so reasonable. Until he smiled. “You won’t feel any pain. When I break your neck, it will be quick. And clean.”
Grace didn’t give him the satisfaction of a reply. She edged toward the door. In his arrogance, he’d left it open. If she could make it to the corridor, she could scream for help as she held him off with her weapons. Perhaps someone in the house would hear her.
Perhaps they would help her.
Perhaps Harrison would come after all.
Her heart ached at the thought. Had he been injured? Had O’Hanlon caught him by surprise?
The thought nearly buckled her knees, but she fought through it. She had to survive.
Her pulse thundering in her ears, she silently repeated a prayer.
Dear God, please let him be alive.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Eyes gleaming with bloodlust, Edythe kept her gaze fixed on Grace. “When we return to America, we will plant the seeds of a delicious rumor—perhaps, we’ll let it be known you were the victim of a hex. A spell compelled you to go mad, and you were overtaken with a murderous rage. We will need to take a token, one the authorities will not notice.” Edythe fairly bubbled with macabre glee. “A lock of hair would do nicely…woven into a brooch.”
Her heart thundered against Grace’s ribs. Fear held a tight rein on her voice. She could muster little more than a whisper. “This is madness.”
Raibert’s serpentine smile would have done Lucifer proud. “I’ve learned how powerful a weapon fear can be. Even a grown man, a criminal with blood on his hands, quakes at the prospect that he’s been cursed.”
Grace wanted to avert her gaze, but she did not dare look away. Soon, she’d strike out. She’d catch him off guard and disable him with the fan.
“Are you saying it’s real—you’re a practitioner of witchcraft?”
Raibert cocked his head, studying her. He was enjoying toying with her, much as a cat torments an unfortunate mouse before the kill. His mouth curled at the corners, a malicious light in his eyes.
“The force of suggestion does strange things to a man. Therein lies the true power. As long as those I wish to control believe it to be so, that’s what matters. I must say, I am enjoying this discussion. But I’m afraid it must come to an end. If you cooperate, you’ll make this easier on yourself.”
She curled her fingers around the weighted fan. One step closer, and she’d put it to use.
He lunged, but she darted away. Lashing out at him, she landed a blow to his face.
Crack. The closed fan slammed into the bridge of his nose. Blood streamed down his face. Bellowing in pain, he tried to grab her.
Evading his hold, she slashed brutal blows with the weapon. The fan caught him in the throat. He stilled. Another blow struck him hard in the face, slicing an ugly wound. Blood dripped from his cheekbone to his jaw.
“Drop it.” Edythe’s command was laced with ice. Out of the corner of her eye, Grace saw the flash of light against the dagger. “I’ll cut out your heart.”
Seizing the moment of hesitation, Raibert dug his fingers into Grace’s arm. Pain rippled through her as he wrenched her weapon from her hand and dragged her against his body.
“You will pay for that, you shrew.”
Behind her, Grace heard a little cry that seemed a cross between a gasp and a sob.
Belle stood in the doorway. Her mouth pulled into what looked like a muted scream. Eyes wide with horror, she stared at the man she’d loved. A small, two-shot pistol quivered in her hands.
“Let her go.” The choked sounds of Belle’s anguished voice were scarcely louder than a whisper. “Now!”
“Darling, put down the gun,” he said softly. “You don’t want to hurt anyone.”
“Release her. Or I will kill you.”
“I cannot do that, my love. She wants to keep us apart. She tried—”
“I will pull this trigger,” Belle said, her voice quivering. “You’re responsible for my father’s death.”
“That’s not true.”
“I heard you…you had him killed.”
Raibert dug his forearm into Grace’s throat. “I did what needed to be done. If he’d had his way, we would not be together.”
Tears streamed down Belle’s cheeks. “You murdered my father, you cur.”
“He left me no choice. He would have torn us apart.”
“No. No. No.” Belle spoke the words like a litany. “I was such a fool.”
Keeping to the shadows, her dagger at her side, Edythe moved toward Belle. Grace cried out in warning.
Belle’s eyes narrowed. She pivoted to face Edythe. “So, do you think to kill me? Just as you murdered your aunt?”
Edythe regarded Belle as though she were a mere annoyance. “You’re weak, dear. You won’t kill—”
A gunshot roared in Grace’s ears.
Edythe went very still. Appearing to gulp a ragged breath, she stared at the seeping stain on her pale blue gown.
“I didn’t think you had it in you.” Her life force seemed to ebb. Staring blankly through unseeing eyes, Edythe’s head fell forward, and she sank limply to the carpet.
Raibert’s arm formed a vice around Grace’s throat. Straining for breath, she fought to stay calm. Fought the instinct to struggle against his hold. If she resisted, he could break her neck with one movement. Only the fact she served to shield him from Belle’s gun kept her alive.
“You dull-witted wretch.” Venom dripped from his voice. His forearm tightened against Grace’s airway. A bit more pressure, and she wouldn’t be able to breathe.
“I would have given you anything.” Belle sobbed the words. “I loved you.”
“You’ve ruined everything now. Everything!” Raibert bellowed.
Suddenly, he released Grace, shoving her so hard she nearly stumbled over her skirts. As she righted herself, she grabbed the fan.
Murderous rage making his baritone an ugly growl, he spewed obscenities at Belle.
“Shoot me, Belle,” he taunted, hatred dripping from his tongue. “If you’ve got it in you, you weak little cow.”
Tears streamed down her face. “Please… Please don’t make me do this.”
Keeping his eyes on the woman who’d loved him, he snatched up the dagger that had fallen by Edythe’s unconscious body. “You shouldn’t have hesitated. You’ll have to kill me now, darling. Or I’ll slaughter you both.”
“No,” she murmured. Her hands trembled violently. “Run, Grace!”
Raibert stood between her and the door. Their escape was blocked.
“Pull the trigger. Do it. Now.” Strangely quiet and calm, Grace’s voice sounded peculiar to her own ears. Time seemed to blur as Belle stared with wide, desperate eyes at the man she’d loved.
Belle’s fingers quaked, unsteady as twigs in a fierce storm.
She squeezed the trigger.
The explosion thundered against Grace’s skull.
Smiling like a madman as blood oozed between his fingers, Raibert clutched his shoulder.
“You should’ve killed me,” he said, his voice low and raw with pain. “But you were weak. That was a mistake.”
With that, he caught Grace’s upper arm in a vicious hold. She lashed out with the fan. The weapon crashed into his forearm, but he didn’t release her. His hand clamped tighter, his fingers digging into her flesh. Like a wounded animal, he seemed stronger, more powerful, as if oblivious to pain.
Twisting against him, she wielded the still-closed fan like a bludgeon. With all the strength she possessed, she slammed it into his face. Blood streamed from his nose, seeming to choke him.
She broke away.
Quick as a cat pouncing on a cornered bird, he slashed the dagger in an arc.
The tip caught her flesh.
Pain seared her upper arm.
Crying out in
agony, she jerked away. With a flick of her wrist, she opened the fan. Employing its reinforced ribs as a shield, she dodged another slash of the knife. Then another.
A warm trickle dripped down the length of her sleeve, seeping against the fabric.
Her knees went weak, but she didn’t give in. She darted back, evading another slice of the knife.
Bloodlust flared in his eyes. “I’ll enjoy seeing you die.”
Behind him, she spotted a sudden movement.
Harrison!
A crimson stain marred his white shirt. Had he been wounded? Or was that another man’s blood?
She shoved aside her fear. Harrison was alive.
That was all that mattered.
As he bolted into the room, his gaze locked on Raibert. Gaslight glimmered on the revolver in his hand.
“Throw down the knife and move away from her. Now.” Harrison’s command was low and laced with quiet rage. “Before I put a bullet in your heart.”
Dagger in hand, Raibert spun around. Close enough to Grace that one swift movement would plunge the blade into her chest, he blocked her escape.
He glared at Harrison. “Bugger it, you’re still alive.”
“O’Hanlon got the worst of it.” Harrison leveled the gun at Raibert’s chest. “You had Fairchild killed. I know that. Belle didn’t know what you’d done, did she?”
Raibert sneered. “The simpering fool sees what she wants to see.”
“You had Fairchild killed to get to his money,” Harrison went on.
“What good is an heiress who hasn’t come into her fortune?”
“But Fairchild’s death wasn’t enough. You ordered O’Hanlon to kill the investigator he’d hired. Why did Lowry have to die?”
“The weasel knew too much.”
“He was searching for the MacKendrick dagger,” Harrison pressed. “He’d uncovered evidence against you.”
“The bastard tried to extort money out of me. I couldn’t let him live.”
“And the dagger…”
“So, that’s why you haven’t pulled the trigger.” Raibert laughed, the sound as raw as a scream. “You think I’ll tell you in exchange for my life?”
Harrison slowly shook his head. “I don’t bargain with vermin.”
“That sghian dubh will garner a king’s ransom. Nothing that bastard Fairchild owned could compare to that piece. Even if you kill me, you won’t get your hands on it.”
“You’ve made a crucial miscalculation. You’re assuming I don’t already have it.”
“You’re lying.” Raibert ground out the words.
“Surely you’re not fool enough to believe I came here to protect some tycoon’s daughter. You know what brought me here.”
Raibert’s hand trembled, as if he struggled to restrain himself. “You don’t have it…it’s not possible.”
“Can you be sure of that?” Harrison coolly planted a seed of doubt. “You do know the lady is a skilled thief. She’s a clever one.”
Perspiration dotted Raibert’s brow as he clutched the knife. His upper lip twitched. “You’ll never leave this place, you bastard. Never!”
With a sound more feral than human, Raibert launched his attack.
Like a mad dog that possessed no fear, he slashed the blade. Harrison dodged the brutal thrust.
Terror coiled like a viper in Grace’s belly. Raibert lashed out again, slicing the knife down in a deadly arc. Harrison evaded the strike.
Again and again, Raibert viciously attacked. Harrison’s gaze locked with his. With each step, Harrison drew Raibert away from Belle. Away from her. Protecting them by putting himself at mortal risk.
Fear whipped through her body. The tip of the blade grazed Harrison’s sleeve. Drawing blood. Grace pressed a hand to her mouth to stifle her scream.
Harrison edged away, keeping his eyes on Raibert, waiting his chance.
Finally, he had a clean shot.
He pulled the trigger.
The roar of the gunshot echoed against the walls.
An agonized howl wrenched from Raibert’s lungs. But the cur didn’t collapse. Didn’t surrender.
Hatred blazed in his eyes. “I’ll kill you!” He ground the threat between his teeth as he hurled himself at Belle.
Harrison lunged, putting his body between them.
One brutal punch connected with Raibert’s jaw.
Harrison seized him in an unyielding hold. With quick, efficient movements, he brought him to his knees.
“Grace, bring me the ties on the curtains.”
As she rushed to untie the velvet cords and bring them to Harrison, Mrs. Carmichael entered the room. She went directly to Belle to console the weeping heiress.
As Harrison moved to secure Raibert’s arms behind his back, the cur rebelled.
Harrison’s fist plowed into his gut. And then his chin.
Raibert’s mouth went wide, even as his eyes closed. In oblivion, he toppled to the floor.
“Oh God, Harrison.” Grace reached for him, pulling him close, needing the feel of his body against hers. He was alive. Her prayers had been answered.
With a touch that spoke of tenderness and longing, he cradled her face against his palm.
“Are you all right?” he murmured.
“Yes.”
“And Belle—she is unharmed?”
“Yes.” Grace swallowed a gulp of emotion at the thought of what might have happened.
“Thank God,” he said, pressing a soft kiss to her lips.
By this time, the servants had rushed to the scene. The housekeeper hurried to assist Mrs. Carmichael with Belle while Harrison turned to Raibert. Crouching by the unconscious man, he checked for a pulse. With Grace by his side, Harrison methodically bandaged his wounds, then bound Raibert’s wrists with the velvet cords.
Grace wrung her hands together. “You didn’t shoot to kill. Why?”
“We need to find out what that snake knows.”
“Will he live?”
“Yes,” Harrison said grimly. “At least, long enough to meet the hangman.”
As dawn danced on the horizon, Grace hesitated before entering Harrison’s chamber. A few hours earlier, she’d tumbled into the bed she’d once shared with Mrs. Carmichael while Harrison and the Antiquities Guild agents continued their investigation. She’d managed to drift off only after exhaustion overtook her body. They were safe. She’d no doubt of that. Agents of the Antiquities Guild were stationed about the premises, prepared to see to their protection. But in her heart, she could not dismiss the lingering terror, the sight of Harrison dodging brutal thrusts of the knife, the carnage she’d witnessed.
Her fingers trembled slightly at the ugly memories, but the sight of Harrison standing unharmed before the washbasin provided much needed reassurance. Stripped down to his cotton undershirt, he met her questioning gaze. A haunted expression darkened his eyes to the hue of a forest at first light.
“Are you certain you’re all right? I need to know.”
“I’m fine,” she said, the words not quite a lie. Yet not quite true. Physically, she was unharmed. But after enduring the horrible fear that had permeated every cell of her body as she’d prayed for Harrison’s safety, she sensed a part of her would never be the same.
“And Belle—she is unharmed?” He shrugged on a clean shirt and began to button it.
“Yes.” Grace swallowed hard at the thought of what might have happened. “It’s a miracle you got there in time.”
He’d tasked a young footman with riding over the grounds to make contact with the Antiquities Guild operatives who’d been stationed at the perimeter of the estate. Grace had not even known the agents were there, ready to spring to action in the event of an emergency. They’d rushed to the scene and had taken charge of the investigation, ensuring that Raibert was securely behind bars in the jail at Stirling.
“Indeed.” Leaving his shirt partially unbuttoned, he came to her. His arms enfolded her, warm and strong and gentle. His lips grazed her t
emple. “I could not have lived with myself if you’d been harmed.”
She stroked the curve of his face with her fingertips. Did he have any idea how dear he was to her, how very much she cherished him? She silenced the troublesome thought.
“They tried to drug me,” he said. “Mrs. Carmichael’s drink was also tainted. The fools were too intent on their games to notice we discarded the liquid into one of the unused tankards when they weren’t looking.”
“How did you realize what they were up to?”
“My suspicions about Raibert were heightened when I spotted the necklace Belle was wearing. I can’t be sure yet, but I believe he stole the necklace from a merchant he attacked in Glasgow. Mrs. Carmichael and I needed to keep our wits about us in case Raibert made a move.”
“Good heavens. She adored that necklace. He’d given it to her before they were betrothed.” Grace swallowed against a rush of emotion. “When we left that room, Belle had no idea what Raibert and the others had planned.”
A vein pulsed in his temple. “If I’d known they dared to attempt such a thing, I never would have allowed you to leave my sight.”
“I feel so badly for Belle. Raibert broke her heart.”
“The bastard,” Harrison said, grim disgust coloring his tone. “When I saw him threatening you, I wanted to kill him. I still don’t know if I made a mistake leaving him alive.”
She pressed a kiss to his cheek, almost chaste. “The blackguard will see justice. You did the right thing.”
He stared down at her, holding her so near to his body she could feel the steady pulse of his heart against her breast. “I wanted to toss the cur out of that window. Seeing him hurt you was a pain like no other.”
“It’s in the past now. Mrs. Carmichael bandaged my injury. It was actually rather minor, nothing to worry over.”
“I’ll have to examine it. I won’t rest until I’m positive you’ve been well cared for.”
“There will be time for that later, once we’re back in Stirling.”
He nodded his agreement.
“Leading Raibert to believe you’d found the dagger was a brilliant strategy. But drawing his rage to yourself was a risk you should not have taken.”
Tempting the Highland Spy Page 25
