“The bastard at the club—bloody hell, it makes sense now. Where’s the coward hiding tonight?”
“He fulfilled his purpose. Just as you will.”
Gavin’s throat tensed. Anger pulled his mouth taut. “I’ve complied with your demands. Now, release Miss Devereaux.”
“Miss Devereaux?” Lady Ellicott’s brows hiked. “So…you don’t know.”
“What the hell are you talking about? Let her leave this place.”
“I believe you are referring to Miss Atherton.”
His forehead furrowed. “What—”
“She’s right,” Sophie said the words as a confession. “I was not at liberty to tell you—there was still a chance I’d be sent to a secure location on the Continent. I could not reveal my true identity, not even to you.”
“I assume you already know she is a reporter,” Lady Ellicott said. “But she undertook this investigation in the Queen’s service. She is a spy. And you may well have been her quarry.”
“That’s not true,” Sophie protested.
Gavin’s jaw tensed, but he offered no acknowledgment. “Now that I am here, Lillian, do you care to inform me why I have been summoned?”
“It seems we had a common interest. His name was Peter Garner.”
“He was my colleague—my friend. What was your interest in him?”
“I am the one who ordered his death.”
…
Cold fury surged through Gavin’s body, through every cell, every vein. He reined it in, held it under tight control. Anger would serve no purpose. To the contrary, it would prove a distraction. He had to keep his wits about him. Sophie’s life depended on it.
The trust in her eyes gutted him. An emotion unlike any he’d ever felt washed over him. Her faith in him seemed a shield these bastards could not penetrate.
Lillian’s rouged lips stretched wide. “Aren’t you going to ask me why I would do such a thing?”
He clenched his hands at his sides. How could he have ever seen beauty in her cold eyes?
“Nothing you might tell me could convince me he deserved his fate.”
“Sadly, I must agree,” Lillian said. “Mr. Garner was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. He wasn’t supposed to be at Trask’s studio that night. Trask had known to stay away. Valentina had become a problem—one McNaughton knew how to solve. She was still alive when Garner walked in. He came to her defense, but in the end, he couldn’t even save himself.”
“If it’s any consolation to you, the bloke gave me this break in my nose. It’ll never be the same,” McNaughton said with a travesty of a smile.
“He did not suffer,” Lillian added. “I injected him with a serum. The chemical rendered him unconscious. The river did the rest.”
Gavin bit back an epithet. “And the others—why did you decide they had to die?”
Lillian toyed with the cameo pendant at her throat. “I suspected your motives had nothing to do with the supernatural. Miss Beddingham was good enough to provide the proof of your connection with Mr. Garner. We could not take the chance you might stumble upon the truth.”
“What of Eversleigh and Fenshaw?” Sophie asked. “Why were they targeted?”
Lillian’s visage darkened. “They betrayed me. We’d formed an elite society, practitioners of the occult arts. Our plan would have elevated us to the highest ranks of Her Majesty’s inner circle. Persuading the queen to accept communiques from her dear, departed husband would be a simple enough matter. But they were cowards…all but Mr. McNaughton. One by one, they feared discovery. The cravenhearted fools rejected their sworn oaths. The bastards threatened to expose us. They left us no choice.”
The words slammed into Gavin. How many had died because of Lillian’s evil scheme?
“As you might imagine, you will not be leaving this place,” she went on. “I despise feeling as though I’ve misled you, but I do have such an aversion to leaving loose ends.” Moving to the door, she turned to McNaughton. “You know what to do.”
The door closed behind her. Faint taps of her heels clicking on the stairs drifted through the panel.
McNaughton lunged, reaching for Sophie. Gavin whipped forward, blocking him.
“I’ll kill you if you touch her.”
“Now that would be quite the trick,” McNaughton said, coldly evil. “I should’ve slit your throat when we were at the bridge. I was a fool to trust those blokes to do the job.”
The sun’s waning rays glinted off the gun in his hand, a finger on the trigger, the barrel aimed at Gavin’s heart.
“No!” Sophie leaped and crashed against the man’s massive frame. He grunted, stumbling sideways.
A gunshot roared.
Pain exploded in Gavin’s shoulder. The impact tore through him, and he gasped. Despite his agony, he welcomed the searing pain. Dead men felt nothing, not misery, not pleasure. He was alive. Sophie had jarred McNaughton’s aim, sparing his life.
His knees buckled.
Bugger it.
He sank to the floor, struggling to focus his vision.
McNaughton stalked after Sophie. He seized her by the shoulders. With a vicious shake, he shoved her toward the tower wall. Toward the edge.
Gavin pushed himself to his hands and knees. A fresh wave of pain washed over him.
God above, I have to get to her. Have to save her.
His hand closed around the dagger strapped above his boot. He dragged in a raw breath. He’d have one chance…one chance to get this right.
Concealing the knife behind his back, he managed to pull himself upright. “It’s me you need to kill. Not her.”
Still holding Sophie in a viselike grip, the cur snapped his attention to Gavin. “I want you to watch her die. A sight like that would break any man. Not that you’ll have long to think about it before I put another bullet in you.”
“I will kill you,” Gavin vowed.
McNaughton dragged Sophie to the parapet. “I’m shaking in my boots.”
Gavin staggered forward. Spreading his feet wide, he braced himself. Damn his unsteady legs. Blood loss was getting to him. That, and the blasted way his head swam when he looked past the edge of the tower. God above, he hated heights. Just his bloody luck.
This was no time for weakness. He’d steady his limbs. He’d get to her.
He could not fail.
He had to kill the bastard.
He must protect Sophie.
“Let her go.”
McNaughton sneered. “You want me to let her go—good enough, mate. Take a look…we’ll see how well she can fly.”
…
McNaughton’s powerful hands slammed against Sophie’s shoulders. She staggered back. Her back hit the tower wall, stealing her breath and sending shockwaves of pain along her spine. Terror welled in her chest. She heard herself scream, the sound like a stranger’s voice, so very foreign to her ears.
“You shouldn’t have made a fool out of me. I might’ve let you live.” McNaughton eyed her ruefully. “Damn shame an angel face like yours can’t save you. Maybe you’ll grow some wings on the way down.”
He caught her in an unyielding hold. She pummeled his chest. She drove her heel into his foot.
Useless.
Evil gleamed in his pale eyes. He gave her another shake.
Her toes brushed the floor.
A scream wrenched from her lungs.
She punched him hard, slamming into his crooked nose. Desperate to free herself, she clawed at him. Fear seemed a living, breathing entity, swallowing her up.
She curled her fingers around McNaughton’s lapels, digging her nails into the fabric. “If I fall, I’m taking you with me.”
“Damn it, you’re making this hard on yourself,” McNaughton growled. “I generally don’t like to strike a lady. But this time, I’ll make an exception.”
He manacled her wrists with one hand. He reared back with his other arm, his fingers curled into a massive fist.
“Release her, or I’ll k
ill you.” Gavin’s voice had gone raw. Dangerous. “Turn around and face a man, you bloody coward.”
Releasing his grip on Sophie, McNaughton went for his revolver. “I should’ve put a bullet in your gut.”
“Sophie, I love you,” Gavin said. “Always remember that.”
He surged forward. Light reflected off the steel blade in his hand. The dagger plunged into McNaughton’s chest.
Sophie gasped. Wild-eyed, McNaughton covered the sickening wound with one hand. An agonized moan escaped him.
He raised the gun in a trembling hand. “It’ll be the last thing I do, but I’ll put a bullet in your heart.”
He drew back the hammer.
Gavin lunged. The dagger pierced McNaughton’s belly.
McNaughton stared down at the crimson stain spreading over his linen shirt. Gavin wrenched the gun from his limp hand.
“Go ahead. Pull the trigger.” McNaughton’s taunt was little more than a whisper. “All men do what’s needed to survive. You’re no better than me.”
“You’re wrong.” Gavin shook his head. “Sophie, go downstairs. Find something to bind his wrists.”
“You think this is how it ends, with me dangling at the end of a rope?” McNaughton slowly shook his head, his gaze dripping contempt. “Bloody hell. I’ll decide when it’s over.”
With a sudden jerk of his body, he hurled past Gavin. Over the edge.
Sophie’s scream echoed in her ears. Gavin pulled her to him with his uninjured arm, held her to his chest. So warm. So strong and vital. How she loved him. Tears of relief and shock burned her eyes, but she held them in.
Blast it, she would not weep.
“Oh, Gavin, I thought he’d killed you,” she whispered and pressed a kiss to his mouth.
“Come now, Sophie, I’m made of stronger stuff than that.”
“Indeed. As I recall, I’m the one who pointed out your daring,” she said and kissed him again. “I love you, Gavin. So very much.”
The sound of heavy footsteps on the stairs made it to Sophie’s ears. Matthew Colton threw open the door.
He rushed to her side. “Sophie, are you all right?”
Behind him, Mac Campbell surveyed the scene. “Stanwyck, you’ve been wounded. We’ll get you to a physician.”
Gavin brushed his lips over Sophie’s cheek. He took a step forward, only to stagger as his knees gave way.
“Take good care of her, Colton. I love that brave minx—”
His lids fluttered shut. His head pitched forward. Sophie struggled to support his weight as he sank to the floor.
“Oh, Gavin,” she whispered. “Please…please don’t leave me. I love you.”
Chapter Thirty-One
The housekeeper’s cat was going to be the death of him. Gavin dodged the black mouser as it sauntered over the freshly waxed floor, a miniature predator on the prowl. The creature paused for a leisurely stretch and regarded him with enigmatic golden eyes, seeming to contemplate whether to allow him passage through the corridor or sprawl across the space in an effort to block his way.
Gavin leaned against a doorjamb, bracing himself against a fresh wave of pain. The doctor who’d bandaged the wound had declared his chances of a full recovery were excellent, with the caveat that he rest the affected shoulder until fully healed. Damned if he intended to become an invalid. His arm and shoulder throbbed, but that did not mean the rest of his body was suited to unaccustomed leisure.
The door to Henry’s chamber creaked open. Clothed in trousers that appeared baggy on his frame and a shirt that hung loosely over his bandaged chest, the Scot looked to have regained much of his strength. Thank God. His wound had given them all cause for worry.
Henry eyed Gavin. “Bluidy hell, if this place hasn’t turned into a blasted infirmary,” he said. “The only thing missing is a lovely nurse or two to keep me company.”
Gavin scowled. He’d hired on a topnotch nurse to attend Henry and Avery during their convalescence. The no-nonsense matron certainly did not fit Henry’s specifications, but Mrs. Larkin’s competence was unassailable.
“That’s the last thing you need. I’ll ask Farnsworth to bring you some fresh clothing. Nurse Larkin is due at any moment.”
“Oh, there you are, you naughty scoundrel.” The housekeeper hurried down the hall and scooped up the cat. She shot Gavin a glance.
“Mrs. Edson, would you be so kind as to ask Farnsworth to provide Henry with clean attire?”
She wrinkled her nose. “The gent should be aspiring to time in the tub, provided Nurse Larkin approves. Last time I checked, the plumbing in his bath was functioning quite well.”
“True.” Gavin smiled. “Has Nurse Larkin arrived?”
The housekeeper shook her head. “Not yet. But you have another guest. That’s what I came to tell you.”
“A guest?” He glanced down at his wrinkled trousers, haphazardly fastened shirt, and braces. He rubbed a hand over his jaw, over the growth of beard he hadn’t touched a razor to in days. “I’m in no condition to receive a caller.”
“I am afraid I must disagree. You’re looking quite well.”
Sophie. What in blazes was she doing here? Even though Lady Ellicott and her surviving coconspirators were behind bars at the Old Bailey, he’d been informed Sophie would remain in a secure location until all danger from Lady Ellicott’s followers had been eliminated.
He hadn’t anticipated laying eyes on her lovely face for at least a fortnight.
I love you, Gavin. So very much.
How many times had he recalled her softly spoken words as he lay recovering from his wound? Had she truly uttered the words, or had his pain-fogged mind conjured them as an act of mercy?
She came to him, each step carefully measured, as if she were battling a case of nerves. God knew he was. The sight of her set his senses aflame.
Mrs. Edson struggled to contain the squirming creature in her arms. “Shall I see Miss Atherton to your study?”
So, Sophie had informed the housekeeper of her real name. Her secret was out. Had her mission ended, or had they been deemed worthy of her secret?
“I am delighted to see you both up and about.” Sophie flashed Henry a genuine smile. “Please excuse the unexpected nature of my presence here… I have a matter of some urgency to discuss.”
“Sophie, is it safe for you to be here?” Gavin caught her hands in his. “As much as I’ve wished to see you, I wouldn’t chance your security.”
“Matthew Colton is confident the conspirators have all been apprehended. He believes the danger has passed.”
Relief washed over Gavin. “Now that is welcome news.”
“Indeed.” Her smile was soft and muted. “Gavin, is it possible we might have a spot of privacy?”
“Of course.” Amazing, how casual he kept his expression, when what he wanted most at that moment was to pull Sophie into his arms and kiss her senseless. “Mrs. Edson, please show Miss Atherton to the study. I will join you shortly.”
…
Sophie paced the length of the chamber. Tension filled her from head to toe. Why, she might as well have been a canary awaiting a meeting with Mrs. Edson’s cat. After her experience with Gavin at the castle, she’d been set utterly off base. The nature of their relationship would never be the same.
Sophie, I love you. Always remember that.
The memory played in her thoughts, again and again. Had the words he’d uttered in a time of crisis revealed a previously unspoken truth? Then again, in the heat of danger, emotions were heightened and magnified, not entirely reliable indicators of future sentiment.
For her part, the experience had served to clarify her feelings. She loved him. She knew that without the slightest doubt.
Did Gavin truly love her? Or had his emotions cooled as the threat to their lives dissipated?
His feelings would certainly impact his reaction to her news. She’d been offered a tremendous opportunity that would take her away from London for months. Would he explain away
his confession of love as a momentary swell of emotion, wish her well, and send her on her way, leaving her heart in pieces? Or would he tell her he loved her and ask her to stay in London with him?
If he did, what would she say? Could she bear to pack away her dreams in a tidy case and put them on a high shelf, out of reach save for the occasional musing of what might have been? Or could she sacrifice the love she’d found with this daring, infuriating man?
Her heart stuttered at the idea. Quite ironic, that. She should be filled with joy. And yet, she knew whichever path she chose, she’d lose a piece of her soul.
Mrs. Edson slipped in, bearing a tray of pastries and a tea service. She poured a cup for Sophie, placed it on a delicate Wedgwood saucer, then excused herself.
Sophie took a sip of the steaming Earl Grey and moved to the settee. Ah, the memories they’d created on that rather ordinary piece of furniture.
Nearly ten minutes had passed when Gavin entered the study. He’d changed from his crumpled clothing to a crisply pressed shirt and wool trousers. A loosely knotted tie emphasized the blue in his eyes. He hadn’t shaved—no, that delectable growth of beard still coated his chin and jaw—but he’d combed back his hair, highlighting the contours of his face. My, but he was a handsome man. If he’d been alone, she might’ve pulled him close and kissed him, right where he stood. But it wouldn’t do to make a spectacle in front of Gavin’s housekeeper. Heaven knew she’d brought enough trouble into their lives.
“I presume Mrs. Edson has seen to your comfort,” Gavin said, closing the door behind him. Odd, how detached he seemed. It was as if the events of the past several days had never happened. He’d held her and loved her. He’d nearly died for her. But now, he regarded her with a casualness that bordered on indifference.
“She is a dear woman,” Sophie commented, sipping her tea, wishing her heartbeat would stop pounding in her ears. “I am so relieved your recovery is going smoothly, as is Mr. MacIntyre’s.”
He joined her on the settee. His eyes searched hers for a long moment. “How are you, Sophie? I know that bastard hurt you.”
McNaughton’s hold had been punishing, but she’d gone past the pain he’d inflicted. “I am well. I wanted to tell you I’m sorry I deceived you. I could not reveal my true name. I can now assure you that Sophie Louise Atherton is the name bestowed upon me at my christening.”
When a Lady Dares (Her Majesty’s Most Secret Service) Page 30
