by Fanny Walsh
The bullet flew harmlessly into the air.
Despite having looked so smug and confident with the gun in his hand, the sound of the gunshot seemed to have startled Kent. He jumped and relaxed his grip on the handle, and Duncan ripped it from his hands before Kent had a chance to recover.
Kent lunged then at Duncan and made as if he intended to take back his gun. Duncan was no stranger to guns himself, however, and within seconds he had it cocked and aimed at Kent.
“This is the last time I will warn you,” Duncan said. “Do not move.”
Kent put his hands up, giving Duncan a nasty grin.
“Well, well, look at you, Winstanley. How much of a hero you must feel, arriving just in time to save the damsel,” Kent mocked.
Duncan said nothing. He would not give Kent the satisfaction of responding to his goading.
“If I am being perfectly honest, I did not expect you to come. After all, it is not as if you really love Mary.” Kent said.
“You speak as if you do,” Duncan said, breaking his silence.
Kent feigned a wounded expression.
“But of course, I love her,” he said, his voice dripping with false sweetness. “She is my niece, after all.”
“Then I should hate to think of what you would have done to her if you hated her,” Duncan spat.
“Well, I detest you,” Kent said. “Why do we not find out what I do to people I hate?”
“I believe that I am the one holding the gun, Hillington,” Duncan said.
“And if you shoot me, the authorities will indeed believe you have gone mad,” Kent said, amused. An idea seemed to strike the older man, and his face lit up anew.
“Go on, Winstanley. Shoot me,” Kent invited. “Then, when the authorities arrive, I will explain how you barged in on Mary and me while we were having tea, brandishing a gun and threatening us.”
Kent gave a joyous cry of laughter and rubbed his hands together.
For a moment, Duncan feared that what Kent said might be true. If the authorities did not believe Mary or him, Kent might well convince them that Mary was unwell, and Duncan was mad.
If he succeeded, Mary would be released to her uncle’s care, and Duncan would indeed be sent to the madhouse. He prayed that Theodore had told the authorities everything. If he had not, there was a real possibility that Kent could win.
“I do not see how the authorities could believe that, Hillington. I reported you to them myself,” Duncan lied. “I spoke to them shortly before I arrived.
Kent seemed to believe the bluff. His smug expression melted and transformed into a hideous snarl.
“I will have this,” Kent growled. “And not you, nor anyone, will stop me.” The man let out a loud grunt and made another lunge for the gun. Duncan aimed, very carefully, and shot a bullet between Kent’s feet. Kent stopped moving at once, and his face went white.
“If you move once more, you will not even leave here alive,” Duncan said.
“I will get you, Winstanley,” Kent said. His words were menacing, but his face resembled a sullen young child. “And your little bride, too.”
“You will be unable to do much from behind bars, I am afraid,” said a gruff voice from behind Duncan.
Before Duncan could turn to look at whoever spoke, two constables rushed into the room, grabbing and restraining Mary’s uncle.
Duncan felt relief wash over him, knowing that the authorities had heard Kent’s threat. There would be no way he could convince the authorities that Duncan was the culprit, or that Mary was an unreliable witness.
Kent Hillington struggled furiously against the constables. For a moment, Duncan thought the man might actually break free and make another lunge for him or make an attempt to dash past Duncan while his guard was down and chase after Mary.
Duncan instinctively positioned himself so that Hillington would have to run right through him if he did so, knowing that even if he tried, the resistance his body would give would be enough to slow down the plump older man and allow the authorities to recapture him before he could reach Mary.
“Winstanley, you bastard,” Hillington shouted with rage. “On my life, I swear to you that I will get my hands on you someday, and I will end you.”
Duncan’s eyes sparkled with amusement, but he maintained his stoic expression. The larger of the constables, however, chuckled.
“If you succeed in accomplishing such a feat from your cell, we might consider releasing you,” he jested. The other constable joined in with his companion’s laughter.
Hillington snarled, further enraged by the fun being had at his expense.
“You had best hold your tongue,” he growled. “Do you know to whom you are speaking?”
“Indeed, we do,” said the second constable. “We are speaking to a prisoner, who is no more entitled than any other.”
Hillington blanched at the word prisoner, and for a moment he grew very still and silent. Duncan took no satisfaction from the man’s reaction, but he felt great relief at the same word which had made the man grow pale.
Kent’s silence was short-lived, though he made no more efforts to struggle from the constables’ grip.
“This is not done, Winstanley,” he said. Duncan noticed that his voice had lost some of its earlier certainty, though it maintained much of its malice. “I will be free one day, and I am coming right for you and your silly little bride.”
“Should that day ever come, Mary will be safe and sound, and far from the reaches of your grasp,” Duncan said.
He could have pointed out that, with all the charges that would be brought against him, he would likely die in prison, but he chose not to do so. Mary would now be safe for the rest of her life, and that was all that mattered to Duncan.
However, while he was relieved that Mary would now be safe, he felt no happiness. He knew that Mary had loved her uncle dearly, and now he had been taken from her just like the rest of her family.
He would be glad to see the constables escort Hillington out of the house, so that he could find and comfort her.
Chapter 33
Mary had heard the awful commotion her uncle created as he fought his arrest and yelled furiously at Duncan.
For a terrible moment, Mary envisioned her uncle wresting free from the authorities and shooting Duncan before the constables could recapture him. She was overcome with the urge to rush to Duncan’s side and ensure that her uncle was, in fact, unable to do something so terrible.
However, she felt sure that, since she was the primary focus of her uncle’s insanity, her renewed presence in the room would put Duncan at a much greater risk. She resigned herself to listening closely until the entire ordeal had ended.
Just then, Mary heard the front door thunder open, and loud voices from downstairs. Mary thought for a moment that her uncle might have had accomplices who had come searching for him when he did not immediately notify them that his terrible deeds were finished.
She stepped out of the room and peered over the railing, and saw the flushed faces of her cousins, Samuel and John. It was worse than she had thought; not only did her uncle have accomplices, they turned out to be her cousins. Mary felt faint and foolish for not having suspected as much.
Mary headed for the stairs, but her cousins rushed up the staircase in tandem before she reached the top step, and just in time to see the constables exit Mary’s bedroom, with her uncle in tow.
At the sudden, unexpected confrontation, everyone froze. The constables looked from Mary’s cousins to Kent Hillington, to Duncan and then back to Samuel and John.
At the sight of his sons, Kent’s face changed. The pale but sneering expression vanished, turning into one of fear and wide-eyed innocence.
“My sons,” he said. Mary thought he heard genuine relief and hope in his voice. “Please, you must help me. There has been a terrible mistake.”
The larger constable snickered.
“Mistake, indeed,” he said, but Kent Hillington ignored him.
&nbs
p; As Mary had feared, her cousins jumped to their father’s defense.
“Unhand our father at once,” John demanded. “He is no common criminal.”
“Mary?” Samuel asked, looking at her for some sort of explanation.
Before Mary was forced to respond, the second constable spoke.
“Common, your father is not. Criminal, however, is another story entirely. Caught in the act of a crime in this very room, in fact,” he said, gesturing to Mary’s room.
Samuel looked away from Mary at his father, both his and John’s faces wearing identical expressions of fearful confusion.
“Father, what does he mean?” Samuel asked. John nodded in agreement, looking back and forth between the constables and his father, ignoring both Duncan and Mary for the time being.
Mary felt a momentary flash of anger. How could her cousins pretend as if they knew nothing? After all, how would they have known where to find their father if they were not in on his crimes?
Duncan stepped forward, standing in front of her cousins. Mary became acutely aware that, while she was yet several feet away from Samuel and John, Duncan was directly in their path.
She prayed that they would not turn on him. Even with the authorities present, she very much doubted that the two constables could handle both her cousins and her uncle if a struggle including the three men should ensue.
“Your father tried to kill Mary,” Duncan said, his face mirroring Mary’s doubt at their ignorance.
The twin expressions of incredulity on her cousin’s faces shook Mary’s doubt, however.
“No, you must be mistaken,” John said, addressing the constables but seemingly unable to tear his eyes away from Duncan.
“No mistake. We quite completely caught him in the act,” one of the constables repeated.
“Father?” Samuel asked again. John then looked at Mary, as though trying to assess the truth in the constable’s and Duncan’s declarations.
“Please, my boys. You know I did this for you. For us,” Kent said, his face a mask of desperation and pleading. “We must take our rightful place as the heirs in this family, as we discussed.”
The expressions of confusion on her cousin’s faces deepened. If they were, in fact, in on her uncle’s schemes, they were certainly playing their parts well.
“What do you mean?” John asked. “We never discussed such a thing.”
“Mary refused to marry either of you,” Kent continued. Mary shivered again at the tone of her uncle’s voice, as though he were discussing a casual business matter.
“So, the only way to secure your futures, our futures, is to remove her claim to the fortune and titles by ending her life. You boys know that.”
Kent tried to take a step toward his sons, and Mary gasped. Fortunately, the constables had not let down their guards, and they pulled him back and grasped his arms tighter at once.
“Beg pardon, but we must escort the prisoner from the property,” the larger constable said.
Mary held her breath, expecting her cousins to ambush the constables. To her surprise, however, John and Samuel made no move to intercept the authorities.
They seemed frozen where they stood, hardly even blinking as the constables made their way down the stairs and out the still open front door, with her uncle in tow.
No one spoke a word until the hooves of the horses pulling the constables’ wagon were heard fading from the house. John was the one to speak first, slowly moving toward Mary as he did so.
“Mary, are you alright?” he asked.
Mary instinctively took a step back. With the constables gone, she and Duncan were at the mercy of her cousins and, if they too wanted her dead, they were every bit as much of a threat as her uncle had been.
Duncan moved quickly, getting between Mary and John. John continued looking at Mary.
She was unable to hold back the question that had been nipping at her ever since her cousin’s arrival.
“What do you know of this?” Mary asked. “Of how much of Uncle’s… of your father’s doings were you aware?”
John blinked in surprise, and her question seemed to have broken Samuel from his statuesque paralysis. He moved to his brother’s side, studying Duncan.
“What are you talking about, Mary?” John asked.
“He seemed quite certain that you knew of his plans to get rid of Mary and get his hands on the family’s money and titles.”
Mary watched as the implications of what she and Duncan had said crashed into her cousins. John shook his head fervently, and again Mary found herself wondering if they were, in fact innocent.
“Mary, we love you,” John said. “We would never wish to see you harmed.”
“Uncle said he loved me, too,” Mary said quietly. Both her cousins heard her, however.
“Whatever he has done, we had nothing to do with it,” Samuel insisted. “Please, Mary, you must believe us.”
Duncan looked at Mary, raising his eyebrows inquisitively. He needn’t voice his question; it was clear on his face. Mary looked to her cousins, studying their faces for another moment.
She now felt almost certain that their confusion and growing horror were genuine. They likely had no clue about the horrible things their father had done. Still, she had to be sure.
“You knew nothing of him starting the fire that killed my parents, or his plans to try to kill me so that he would inherit everything that they left to me?”
Both her cousins paled in unison. Mary felt a pang of pity for them, seeing them look so much like heartbroken children at that moment. One question remained, however.
“If that is true, then how did you know to come here looking for him?”
“We did not know, not for sure,” Samuel said, still standing just behind Duncan. “He told us he had errands in town, but he said he would be gone no longer than two hours. When he was gone for more than four, we thought perhaps he had come to visit you, so we came looking. We heard him shouting when we arrived, so we rushed in, thinking that both of you were in trouble. We never for a moment thought…” Samuel trailed off.
She knew then with complete certainty that they had had no part in their father’s horrible affairs.
She met Duncan’s still questioning gaze and nodded slightly. Duncan stepped to the side, allowing Samuel to pass. He did so immediately, and he and John simultaneously reached for her.
Tears of relief, mixed with the grief of having to tell her beloved cousins what their father had done, filled her eyes, and she allowed her cousins to take one of her hands in each of theirs.
With a heavy heart, she recounted everything her uncle had admitted to her, and how he had held her hostage on the balcony, trying to push her over its edge for a second time.
John and Samuel listened in silent horror. Duncan quietly made his way over to her, putting a gentle hand around her arm. She gave him a quick, grateful glance. Her guilt at having to deliver such terrible news grew with every word she spoke, but she knew that her cousins needed to know everything.
She knew that they loved their father, and she feared that, if they did not know every detail, they might fall prey to Kent Hillington’s pleas for mercy and leniency.
When at last she was finished, John and Samuel stood silent and motionless for several long moments. Mary briefly feared that they had been stricken mute from the horrific shock of it all. At last, however, Samuel broke the silence.
“We truly had no idea,” he said, looking at the floor in shame. “There are no words to express to you how sorry we are—”
“Hush, now,” Mary soothed. “I know now that you were both completely innocent, and I beg your forgiveness for doubting that, even for a moment—”
“You would have been a fool to not question our involvement,” John interrupted. “You have no reason to ask for our forgiveness.”
“And you must not blame yourselves,” Duncan added. “None of you could have known the terrible things of which he was capable.”
John l
ooked at Duncan as if truly seeing him there for the first time.
“If it were not for you, Mary would be—” he began, his voice choking with emotion before he could finish.
“But I am not,” Mary said, embracing both her cousins. “I am alive and well, and Uncle can never harm anyone else again.”
John and Samuel allowed Mary to hug them for a moment longer. Then, they reluctantly stepped back.
“I suppose we should go to the station,” John said at last. “If they need anything from us, we should not delay in assisting them in any way we can.”
