Kane, Samantha - Brothers In Arms 4 (43 page)

The other man stopped pacing and turned to Devlin with a blank face. “Yes.” His answer was straightforward, yet gave nothing away.

Devlin smiled. “And Mrs. Witherspoon’s?” He was guessing, but he could tell he’d hit the nail on the head by Knightly’s expression.

“Yes.” Again, no hesitation, no embarrassment. Devlin liked this young man.

“Convenient, that,” Devlin commented slyly.

“We like it,” Knightly said neutrally. His tone was belied by the tensing of his shoulders and neck, the fist at his side.

“Kitty told me,” Devlin supplied, and he watched the other man relax.

“Kitty is very important to us,” Knightly said as he lowered himself into the seat across from Devlin again and took a drink before setting his glass on Devlin’s desk.

“We’d hate to see her hurt.”

Devlin raised his eyebrows in mock surprise. “And you think I could hurt her?”

Knightly tilted his head to the side as he studied Devlin. His scrutiny made Dev want to squirm, but he forced himself to sit there negligently. “No.”

His answer surprised Devlin so much he was unable to mask his shock. Knightly

continued, satisfied at his reaction. “Not deliberately. She was reluctant to offer your help. I think she believes she is protecting you.”

Devlin snorted with amusement. “That sounds like Kitty. The little housecat

protecting the lion.”

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Knightly flashed a grin. “Sophie adores her.”

Devlin smiled companionably at him. “Kitty feels the same about her.”

There was a perfunctory knock at the office door a moment before Rufus opened it and stuck his head in with a grin.

“We’ve got ‘em, guv,” he said gleefully. “Just this morning Lukey and Jack were inquiring where one might sell a young lady quickly.”

Devlin felt relief race through his veins. Thank God it was Lukey and Jack. Those two bumblers shouldn’t be hard to track. He saw his relief mirrored on Knightly’s face.

“Slavers? Are there any in port now?” Devlin asked as he buttoned his jacket and grabbed his pistol.

“Nah, but there’s a ship in Dover with a captain whose not too particular how he gets a passenger or where he takes ‘em. He’ll do the sale on commission.”

“They can’t have made it to Dover yet,” Knightly said, shoving Rufus

unceremoniously out of the way. “I can catch them on the road.”

Devlin grabbed his arm before he was out the door. “Do you need any help?”

Knightly grinned and Devlin realized he’d only scratched the surface of this man.

He’d been right to assume he was deadly at first glance.

“I have some friends who might help.” He looked at Devlin assessingly. “But I’m always willing to make new friends.”

* * * * *

Ian glanced in the window at the dark drawing room, just visible through a break in the curtains. Middleton’s townhouse was completely dark and echoed with emptiness when he pounded on the door. The knocker had been removed, indicating the owner was not in town at the moment. Ian didn’t believe it. There was something about the house that slithered down his spine and made his senses come to attention. Someone was lurking in there.

He noiselessly motioned to Daniel to go ‘round the back of the house and seek

another entrance. Jason positioned himself next to the window, but out of sight, and Brett motioned that he and Freddy were going to go in the opposite direction of Daniel, looking for a way in along the other side of the house. Ian nodded quietly and the three men faded into the night, leaving Jason and him to find a way in here.

Ian silently felt along the window casement for a latch of some kind. He cursed inwardly when it became clear the window was locked from the inside. Suddenly a very thin, very sharp stiletto appeared in front of him and he reared back in surprise.

Jason was grinning devilishly at him as he offered the unique knife. Ian took it with an answering grin and slid the blade upward between the windows, pushing the inner latch up. The window glided open a few inches once it was unlocked, creating a big enough gap for Ian to grab one side and pull it open. He hoisted himself inside and turned to hold up a hand, stopping Jason from following him. He wanted to check out 215

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the house before the others entered. Jason slid back from the window and waited patiently from his earlier position, out of sight but with a clear view into the house.

The drawing room was empty, of that Ian was sure. He cracked the door open and

walked quietly out into the hallway after ascertaining it too was clear. His head whipped around when he caught the very small flicker of a candle coming from an ajar door down the hall. He leaned back into the drawing room and pointed, showing Jason where he was going, then he turned and tiptoed toward the light.

When he was still a few steps from the lighted doorway Ian heard an unmistakable click behind him. He froze at the sound of a pistol being cocked.

“Well, Witherspoon, fancy seeing you here.” The voice was such a shock Ian forgot the danger and spun about to face the other man.

“Robertson! What the devil are you doing here?” He froze again when Robertson

raised the gun menacingly, his eyes gleaming with intent.

“Why, I’m going to kill an intruder at my dear friend Middleton’s house, of

course.” Robertson stepped into the light and Ian knew a moment of true fear.

“I meant what are you doing in Middleton’s house? We thought you were back on

the Continent.” Ian spoke slowly and kept his voice evenly modulated. He had to keep Robertson talking.

Robertson motioned Ian into the lit room behind him with a sharp jerk of the pistol.

“Get in the study.”

Ian reluctantly turned and walked into the study, anticipating the burning blast of a bullet in the back at any moment. Robertson followed and pulled the door closed behind him, although it didn’t latch. Robertson didn’t seem to notice. He motioned toward a chair placed in the middle of the room. “Sit.” Ian obeyed, trying desperately not to antagonize the other man. All he had to do was stay alive until Jason and the others were able to rescue him. He wanted to be rescued above all things. Thoughts and memories of Derek and Sophie flashed through his mind, and his heart stuttered in his chest at the thought of what might happen to them were he to die.

Robertson arranged himself on the edge of the desk, his face glowing in the light of the candle there. He lit the others in the candelabrum without moving the gun off Ian.

The brighter light chased the shadows away from the corners of the room, and Ian saw a flicker of movement outside the window behind Robertson. When he looked back at Robertson the man had picked up a second pistol from one of the desk drawers.

“It’s a brilliant plan, you see,” Robertson told him, his voice chillingly reasonable.

Ian looked at him in bewilderment. What was he talking about?

Robertson shook his head disdainfully at Ian’s lack of response. “My plan,” he said slowly, as if explaining to a child. “Honestly, I don’t know why Middleton was so afraid of you.”

Ian shook his head. He had to get back into the moment, keep Robertson talking so he wouldn’t notice the others closing in. “Tell me. What is your plan?”

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Robertson looked amused at Ian’s sudden interest. “I’m going to kill you all, of course. I came up with it after my botched attempt on Phillip Neville’s slut. I was overly emotional or I never would have failed with her.”

Ian was sickened at Robertson’s tone. He sounded disappointed. Ian had been there after Robertson attacked Maggie. He’d seen her beaten and bloody face, the bruises around her neck. He’d seen the emotional carnage left behind. Ian fought and won the battle to keep his emotions in check. “I see. Why kill us? And who is ‘all’?”

Robertson looked at him coldly. “You mean nothing to me. But your death will

weigh quite heavily on Randall and Richards and that whore.” He got up and began to pace. “They ruined my life, and now they’re going to pay. I can’t get close enough to spit at them, but the rest of you are easy pickings. And how much sweeter my revenge will be as I watch from the shadows as they beat their breasts and lament the deaths of their friends one by one.”

“
You
want revenge?” Ian was dumbfounded at the man’s audacity. “You are the one who fired early in the duel, Robertson. You nearly killed Jason. You knew what the consequences of your actions would be.
You
ruined your life, Robertson. Jason and Tony and Kate were merely your victims.”

“Hardly,” Robertson hissed in anger. “Randall never should have forced the duel.

Over a whore! A mistress! What utter rubbish. He acted as if she were a virgin, when everyone knew very well she was far from it.”

Ian was sickened. “A gentleman takes care of his mistresses, Robertson. You should have looked after Kate, not tossed her to your pack of dubious acquaintances and watched them rape her as you stood by laughing. You used her to assuage your petty jealousies against Jason and Tony. As Kate was his future wife, Jason had every right to call you out.”

“Loyal to the end, aren’t you, Witherspoon?” Robertson’s smile was frighteningly calm. “That very loyalty is what will make your death such a blow for them.” Robertson chuckled darkly. “I suppose it’s only fitting that my banishment to the Continent provided the means of my revenge. It was there I was able to earn the blind loyalty Middleton gladly gives to me.”

“How did Middleton get involved?” Ian was truly puzzled about that connection.

Robertson sneered. “That misbegotten, incestuous bastard? He was a hanger-on in London, before Randall’s accusations drove me to the Continent. When he turned up there, his money was greatly appreciated.” Robertson laughed coldly. “He disgusts me.

He pants after that little sister of his like a dog in heat. Do you know he’s been fucking her for years? Disgusting. I can almost see how you and your lover might seem like a change for the better for your little wife. Almost. But she likes fucking the two of you too much to be considered a victim here.” Robertson shrugged negligently.

“Apparently her brother gave her a taste for the perverted.”

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Ian almost ruined everything at that point. How dare this pathetic worm talk about Sophie like that? He spoke through gritted teeth. “He raped her. Sophie was never willing. All she learned from him was violence and fear.”

Robertson shrugged again. “I don’t really care, to be honest. She’s inconsequential except as a way to make them pay. As she’s probably dead already, it hardly matters. I told those two thugs I hired to kidnap her to kill her, I didn’t care how and I didn’t care what they did with her first.”

“You bastard!” Ian roared as he came out of his chair and lunged for Robertson. He saw Robertson raise his gun and didn’t care.

“Ian, no!” Freddy came at him from the shadows and knocked him aside as the

report of the gunshot echoed around them. It happened so quickly Ian didn’t have time to react. He heard a dull thud and Freddy cried out as they hit the floor together.

“Freddy, are you all right?” Ian asked frantically as he rolled over. Freddy was on his back with his eyes closed and Ian could see blood seeping onto the floor from a wound in his shoulder.

“Damn it!” Robertson screamed. “What is he doing here? Now you’ve done it!

You’ve made me kill a duke! Where is he?” he demanded, quickly crossing the distance between them until he pointed the second pistol at Freddy, the first still smoking in his other hand. “Where you are, that limping sycophant isn’t far behind. I know you didn’t come here alone. Where is Haversham?” He pressed his forehead with the spent pistol as if he had a headache. “I’ll have to kill all three of you. Tell me where he is and I’ll at least make it quick.”

“Over here.” Brett spoke calmly from the open doorway. “You have one pistol,

Robertson. You can’t kill us all with it.” He walked slowly into the room, his limp more pronounced than usual. He spared a glance for Ian and Freddy on the floor. “How is he?”

“I don’t know.” Ian had ripped off his cravat and was pressing it to Freddy’s

shoulder, but Freddy had yet to move. As Ian looked down at him, he saw Freddy’s eyelids crack open slightly and Freddy looked furtively at Robertson. He was

pretending to be gravely hurt. Ian wasn’t sure he’d get a chance to take Robertson by surprise, but it was a good move on Freddy’s part.

Brett spoke again in the same calm voice. “You must know you can’t kill all of us, Robertson. It would be smarter to leave us alive. You’ll have a better chance of escape then. If you kill a duke you know they’ll hunt you down.”

Robertson looked at Brett with narrowed eyes. “Always so smart, aren’t you,

Haversham? Well, it hardly matters who I kill now. You know I had the girl kidnapped and murdered. You know I shot Ashland. That’s enough to put a noose around my

neck, particularly if I let Ashland give testimony against me. A duke’s word, no matter the company he keeps, is enough to hang innocent men.”

“You are hardly innocent,” Ian growled from the floor. “You’ve murdered my wife, you bastard, and I will see you dead.” Just saying the words made Ian’s chest ache so 218

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painfully he could barely breathe. His vision was blurred by tears as he thought of Sophie dying far away, scared, alone, at the mercy of hired killers.

Robertson kept the gun pointed at Freddy. “Shut up,” he growled at Ian. His

narrow look became triumphant. “Clearly my original plan must be altered a bit. I begin to think I shot the right man. If I kill the duke, you all lose a very powerful friend, don’t you? Someone who could smooth the way in society for your tawdry little three-way marriages.” His eyes were gleaming. “He’s so young, so full of promise. Yes, killing Ashland will make Randall and Richards and that slut suffer.”

Robertson stiffened his arm as he prepared to shoot Freddy at close range. Ian was primed to leap up and take the shot when Brett roared, “Stay down!” A shot rang out from the window where Ian had seen movement, which now stood open. Robertson