Chapter Thirty
The barrel of McNaughton’s revolver brushed Sophie’s flesh in a cruel threat. She held herself rigid, refusing to give in to her fear, but an instinctive flinch betrayed her. His eyes gleamed, excited at the prospect of her terror.
He’d backed her to the very edge of the stronghold’s tower. In her peripheral vision, she glimpsed the countryside beneath the turret. Steadying her breath, she pressed her palms against the sturdy brick parapet. Her mind raced, desperately seeking some means of defense. She could not let McNaughton force her over the edge. She’d have no chance of surviving such a brutal fall.
“Are you quite certain you won’t accept my proposition?” Lady Ellicott feigned a frown. “With Rebecca gone, I need someone with connections to keep me informed, to do little…favors…from time to time. The arrangement could prove exceedingly lucrative for you.” Amazing, how reasonable the woman sounded even though, clearly, she was mad.
“Rebecca is dead… You had her killed. Not the most promising of arrangements, I’d say,” Sophie argued.
“She could not be trusted. Far too emotional, what with her moping about over that man. If she’d been motivated by the money, we could have retained our confidence in Rebecca, but the element of spite in her character was too strong. It was only a matter of time before she talked, if only to wound Campbell.”
“I will not agree to a deal with the devil.”
Lady Ellicott gave a little shrug. “Very well. I could spare you all of this unpleasantness. You wouldn’t even need to be here when we kill Stanwyck.”
“You do not have to kill him. He is not your enemy.”
“I cannot risk Stanwyck revealing what he’s learned. He is a threat to our plans, and as such, he’s left me no choice.” She sighed. “Miss Atherton, you have no idea who the enemy is in our world. There are forces you would never comprehend. Trask possessed a remarkable mystical talent. Such a tragedy he chose to squander it on parlor tricks and greed.”
“You attended his gatherings. You were there…with McNaughton and the men he killed.”
“Clever girl.” Lady Ellicott seemed genuinely pleased. “I do believe you would be an asset to us. I do hope you will reconsider before Mr. McNaughton loses patience. In any case, you are correct. I was impressed with his medium, the one who pretended to be Russian. As if anyone would believe her atrocious accent.”
“You are Beatrice…Beatrice Hathcock.” The pieces of the puzzle were forming a whole.
“Yes. I certainly could not attend Trask’s sittings without employing an alias. You recognize the significance of the name, don’t you?”
“You played that character on the stage.”
“Indeed. That role was my finest performance. I do miss the nights onstage, those glorious years before I married Alistair. Now that was indeed a deal with the devil. My youth and my beauty, bartered to a clod of a man who’d been born to a title. But it will all be worth it in the end. Soon, with my help, Lord Ellicott will be the most powerful man in Britain. I will manipulate that power, and the dolt won’t even realize what is happening.”
“Did you kill those men? And Trask?”
“No.” She smiled. “Mr. McNaughton had that pleasure. Other than the one fellow—I truly regretted he had to be eliminated. McNaughton’s associates drugged him insensible and tossed him into the Thames.”
A rider on horseback approached from the east. Not Gavin, she silently prayed. Let him leave and go far from this place. She had known the danger going into this mission. She would endure her fate, without the pain of Gavin’s death to compound her own misery.
The steed galloped at a breakneck pace. And then, the hoofbeats stopped.
The thud of boots on the stairs announced the rider’s approach.
“It appears Professor Stanwyck has decided to join us. How very remarkable. I’d never taken him for a man who’d risk his neck for a woman.”
Shock washed over her. Had Lady Ellicott been one of Gavin’s paramours? The thought of him lying with this blackhearted woman sliced into her soul like a dull blade.
Steadying her breath, Sophie stripped the emotion from her voice. “You are acquainted with the man?”
“We were close…at one time.” Lady Ellicott’s eyes narrowed. “So, you’ve reformed him, have you?”
Bitterness laced Lady Ellicott’s tone. Did she suspect Gavin harbored feelings for Sophie? Would that make her all the more dangerous?
Sophie met her razor-sharp gaze. “I assure you I’ve done no such thing. If the man is here, he seeks revenge.”
McNaughton moved to the door. Lady Ellicott admonished him to stand down.
“That is no way to greet our guest. There will be time for that later.”
Gavin stepped through the portal. His eyes locked with Sophie’s for the briefest of moments. An unreadable emotion blazed within the sapphire depths. He had not come for revenge.
He’d come for her.
Misery pierced her heart. He’d put himself in danger. If only he’d stayed away.
He turned his attention to Lady Ellicott. Recognition flared in his eyes. His gaze dropped to the gun in her hand, then rose to the placid mask of her face.
“My God, it’s you.” Derision shaded his tone.
A venomous smile pulled at Lady Ellicott’s mouth. “I must say, this is a pleasant surprise. I wasn’t entirely certain you’d accept my proposition.”
Confusion flickered over his features. “What is the meaning of this?”
“I think that is rather apparent.” Lady Ellicott leveled her revolver at his chest. “Now, I’ll ask you to cast aside your pistol. Surely you did not come unarmed.”
Gavin removed the Webley from its holster and placed it on the ground. McNaughton secured it at his side.
“I’ve done my part,” Gavin said. “Now, let her go.”
“So gallant. Highly unusual in this day and age.” Lady Ellicott’s mouth thinned. “But then again, she did save your life…after my brother-in-law dosed you with my little concoction. I suppose it’s only fair.”
“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 kill 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.”