by Maya Banks
“But why kill the viscountess? She was a wonderful person. She didn’t deserve what happened to her. She was your wife.”
“She got in the way,” he said simply. “Now be silent. Your constant chatter won’t prevent your fate.”
Gray had inched over while the viscount was talking and now shoved Jenna behind him. “Put the gun away,” he ordered.
Jenna clung to his back, and his arm came around to pull her closer to him. She took comfort in his strength, felt bolstered by his touch.
“Your sacrifice is admirable,” the viscount sneered. “It matters not which of you I get rid of first.”
“Put the gun down, Father.”
The viscount whirled around, a look of shock on his face. His hand wavered, the gun shaking. His mouth fell open when he saw the pistol Stuart wielded. “What are you doing? How did you get here?”
“I followed you.”
Jenna stepped from behind Gray ignoring his attempts to keep her behind him. She stared at the scene unfolding before her in stunned disbelief. Stuart, looking as he hadn’t looked in years, stood in the doorway pointing a gun directly at his father. Gone was the flowery attire, the nasal whine, the foppish hairstyle. Here was a large, intimidating man. And he looked angrier than she’d ever seen him in her life.
He moved forward, the gun never wavering in his grasp. “I didn’t want to believe you were a traitor no matter how much the evidence pointed in that direction. I didn’t want to believe that you killed my mother, though I got to her just after she fell down the stairs, saw the pain of betrayal in her eyes.”
“Silence!” the viscount ordered. “You fool. Stupid bloody fool! I did it all for you. So you’d have something to inherit.”
“You are the fool,” Stuart spat. “Do you even know how much I hate you? Despise you? I want nothing from you. How could you think I would ever agree to something so evil?”
“Agree? Of course you would agree.” The viscount aimed the gun momentarily at Stuart but apparently decided his greatest threat wasn’t Stuart at all, but Jenna and Gray, and jerked the gun back to them. “Why wouldn’t you agree?” he railed at Stuart. “It was to your benefit. Do you honestly want to inherit a meaningless title? One that is bankrupt? Money is what matters, my boy. Not power, not prestige. Money.”
“The game is up,” Stuart said in a deadly cold voice. “We’ve shadowed your movements for several years now, but Jenna has found what we’ve been unable to.”
“We? Who the deuce is we?” The viscount purpled with rage as the realization seemed to settle over him that his son was not as he seemed.
Jenna was reeling with shock of her own. Despite the immediate danger of her situation, she couldn’t stop the flow of questions from her lips. “Stuart.” Her soft voice drifted across the tension-laden air.
He turned his head, his eyes filled with a multitude of emotion. Regret. Shame. Anger. Betrayal. She nearly flinched away from the raw pain that raged across his face.
“Stay out of this, Jenna. It doesn’t concern you.” He looked back at his father.
“Were you a part of this? Did you have anything to do with your mother’s death? With the attacks on me?” She had to know. Perhaps this wasn’t the best time, but with a gun trained on her chest, she might not get another.
Stuart’s voice softened. “No, Sprite. All I’ve done has been for the soul purpose of exposing my father. I prayed there wouldn’t be a need for me to marry you, to embroil you in this whole thing, but if it was necessary to prove my father a traitor and murderer I was prepared to do it. But I never did anything to hurt you.”
“I don’t understand. The act, the clothes. Why?”
He laughed a short dry laugh, no real humor reflected. “I would think it obvious. Who took a man as ridiculously turned out as I was seriously? No one looked beyond the foppish façade. Didn’t concern themselves with hiding anything from me, because they thought me an imbecile.
“It was easy to adopt the role. No one questioned it. It made getting information easy. Even my father fell for it.” He stared murderously at the viscount. “You were too smug and self-assured to ever dream I’d taken a post with the English Crown.”
The viscount’s face whitened then his cheeks bulged as he sought to control his rage. “You traitorous Satan’s spawn! How dare you defy me, betray me? How such an ungrateful seed sprung from my loins I cannot credence.”
Stuart laughed which caused the viscount to puff more angrily. Jenna watched the sparring, her head going between the two enraged men. Gray’s hold on her arm tightened and he whispered urgently in her ear, “When I signal you, run for the door and don’t look back.”
She gave a brief nod to show her understanding.
“You’ve a lot of nerve calling me a traitor. I wasn’t selling our secrets to the French. I didn’t throw my wife down the stairs because she found me out. I put my entire life on hold just so I could brand you for the traitor and murderer you are,” Stuart hissed. “I became a person I despised, that others despised and reviled, and I did it so I could have the pleasure of making you pay for murdering my mother.” His voice broke.
“A finer woman never lived, and you killed her. And for what, money? You didn’t deserve to breathe the same air as her.”
“I’ll kill you too,” the viscount threatened. “I won’t let you get in the way of what I’ve worked so hard for.”
“Choose wisely. There are three of us, and you have but one shot.”
Uncertainty flashed over the viscount’s face, and Jenna held her breath. “Get ready,” Gray murmured.
Then a slow sinister smile slid over Lord Dudley’s face. “You won’t kill me. Not your father.” In a sudden movement he yanked his outstretched arm, took aim at Jenna and fired.
Pain rocked her. Her knees buckled and Gray caught her before she fell to the floor. She heard another explosion and out of the corner of her eye she saw the viscount fall. Then all went black.
Gray caught Jenna as she fell, shock and fear assailing him. He glanced over at the viscount who had slumped to the floor, a mixture of pain and amazement etched in his face.
Stuart rushed over to where Gray held Jenna to him, trying to staunch the flow of blood from her shoulder. He stripped off his shirt and thrust it at Gray. “Take this, I’ll summon the physician.” He strode to the door and was nearly knocked over as Thomas barreled in. “Send for a doctor immediately,” Stuart ordered. “Lady Jenna’s been shot.”
A multitude of questions burned Gray’s lips, but he stifled them and concentrated on the rapidly spreading bloodstain on her dress. He couldn’t lose her. Not this way.
He heard Stuart walk back over. “Your father?” He let the question hang in the air.
“He’s dead,” Stuart said in a voice devoid of emotion. He squatted down on Jenna’s other side, his face drawn with concern. “Can you tell if the bullet went through?”
Gray shook his head, refusing to loosen his hold on the cloth for fear her blood loss would be too great.
Stuart dragged a hand through his hair in agitation. Worry clouded his eyes, and he drew in shallow, rapid breaths. He looked up at Gray again. “Can you manage alone? I need to summon my superiors. I must get this mess cleared up about my father before word gets out. I do not want this to destroy Jenna’s family. I must remove my father’s body from the premises.”
“Just who are your superiors?” Gray couldn’t help but ask.
“I am part of a special branch of the His Majesty’s service devoted to ferreting out traitors to the crown. We’ve managed to apprehend most all of the suspected Napoleon sympathizers from years past, but never had the evidence to implicate my father.”
Gray shook his head. Stuart was right. No one had ever seen past his outer façade. The perfect agent. Anger that Jenna had been caught in the middle made him shake. She was innocent. The anguish she’d suffered because of Stuart’s family was unpardonable.
“When is that doctor going to arrive?” he demanded, his frustration mounting as he observed the blood-soaked shirt Stuart had given him. Jenna’s pallor was increasing, and she hadn’t stirred since she’d lost consciousness.
“It’s been but a few minutes. He’ll be here in a moment,” Stuart reassured, though his voice cracked as he observed Jenna’s unmoving body. “I must go, but I will return. Take care of her, Douglas.”
Gray heard the footsteps as Stuart left the room, but he never took his eyes off Jenna. Why hadn’t he kept her firmly behind him? It should have been him that took the bullet, not her. If she died, he would never forgive himself. His actions would be responsible for the death of two women. Raw pain washed over him as the memory of Roslyn’s death came rushing back. He wouldn’t allow it to happen again. He couldn’t survive this time.
Relief edged some of his panic when the physician rushed into the room several long minutes later. He was shoved aside as the doctor set to work examining her.
“The ball is still inside her shoulder,” the doctor announced. “I’ll have to remove it.”
“But will she survive?” Gray demanded, too afraid to hear the verdict.
The doctor frowned. “I think it’s likely she won’t suffer any ill effects if I can control the blood loss. She’s lost a lot thus far. I will have to go in and remove the ball and hopefully it will be an easy procedure.”
“So you can’t guarantee she won’t die.” His voice caught in his throat. God, she couldn’t die.
“I will do the best I can to save her.” He looked around the room, his frown deepening. “This is not an environment I can work in. We must move her so I may perform the surgery.”
The physician looked over at Gray. “Is this her home?”
Gray nodded.
“Then I need her removed to a bedroom.”
With extreme care, Gray curled his arms underneath her limp body and slowly rose. For a moment, he held her close to him and the tears began to fall, wetting his cheeks.
His throat swelled so tight that he feared he’d be unable to breathe. He pressed kisses to the top of her head, praying fervently that she’d open her eyes. He inhaled the scent of her hair, closing his eyes as more tears slipped from his lids.
A piercing scream from the doorway jerked his head up. His heart sank as he took in the distinguished looking couple standing in the drawing room door.
“Get your hands off my daughter,” the earl roared.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Gray tightened his hold on Jenna. Her parents had obviously just arrived back from their travels judging by the amount of luggage piled in the foyer. Sebastian and Quinn shoved their way into the drawing room, and Quinn let out a strangled cry as he saw Jenna’s limp body.
“What have you done to her, Douglas?” Sebastian shouted.
The countess rushed over, cupping Jenna’s face in her slim hands. “My God, what has happened?” she cried.
Her gaze lit on the viscount’s body behind him and she screamed once more, her hands flying to her mouth in horror.
“Put my daughter down,” the earl growled again.
“I can’t do that, my lord,” Gray said bleakly.
“The lady has been shot,” the physician interjected, hurrying to stand in between the earl and Gray. “I had instructed this gentleman to carry her to a bedroom so that I may perform surgery.”
“This way,” the countess choked out hurrying to the doorway.
Gray made to follow her, gingerly bearing Jenna with him. The earl and his sons stood rigidly as he walked by as if it took every ounce of will power not to trounce him.
It mattered not. The only thing that mattered was Jenna’s survival. He would walk through the fires of hell if necessary.
The physician mounted the stairs behind him, all the while shouting directives to the servants to collect all the necessary items for the surgery.
The countess swung open a room he assumed to be Jenna’s, and he gently laid her on the bed, taking care not to disturb the heavy bandage on her shoulder. His heart sank when he saw how much blood already shown through.
Her mother knelt by the bed, stroking Jenna’s hair and weeping softly. The physician quickly explained to the rest of the family gathered that he must perform surgery to remove the ball from her shoulder. He then ordered them from the room, asking only for the maid to remain and assist him.
Gray resisted, standing defiantly by Jenna, his hand gripping hers. The doctor looked sternly at him. “Out with you, young man. I can’t help her unless you are out of the way.” His face softened as Gray stared mutely at him. “I’ll do everything in my power to save her.”
Gray stumbled out of the bedroom, flinching when the door shut behind him. He looked up to see four sets of eyes boring holes through him.
“What have you done?” Quinn demanded, his eyes as red-rimmed as his mother’s.
The earl raised a hand effectively silencing his youngest son. He advanced menacingly toward Gray. “Who are you, and more importantly what have you done to my daughter? And why is Viscount Dudley’s body lying on my drawing room floor?”
Gray held his gaze unflinchingly. “I didn’t shoot her.”
“But if it weren’t for you I rather doubt she would be in this position,” Sebastian said accusingly.
“What are you talking about?” the earl demanded. “Will someone tell me what the devil is going on?” He seemed dangerously close to exploding.
“Let’s retire to the garden,” the countess suggested in a pleading voice. “We are standing in the hall outside her room and all this arguing can’t be good for Jenna.”
“You’re right, of course, my dear,” the earl said in a softer voice.
“After you,” Sebastian said belligerently, gesturing for Gray to precede him down the stairs.
Sighing in resignation over what would be a tense scene, Gray followed Jenna’s parents down the stairs. They turned in the opposite direction of the drawing room, past what looked like the earl’s study and out the French windows to the garden.
The earl rounded on him as soon as they were out the door. “Now, I’d like an explanation. Who are you and how do you explain two shootings in my house?”
Gray stared defiantly back at the earl. “I am Grayson Douglas. Viscount Dudley shot Jenna in your drawing room.”
The four reacted in shock and the earl looked as if he’d been struck full in the face. “Say that again?”
“Viscount Dudley shot your daughter.”
“Why would Lord Dudley shoot the woman his son is betrothed to?” the earl asked in disbelief. “And in my home no less!”
“Was it an accident?” Lady Penbury asked anxiously.
God, what would he tell them? If he told them what went on, they would demand to know how he was so acquainted with the details of Jenna’s betrothal, and more importantly how he came to be at their home when Jenna was shot.
“No, it wasn’t an accident, my lady. He meant to kill her.”
A collective gasp echoed through the small garden. The countess swayed precariously, and the earl drew her into his arms to steady her.
“Why?” the earl bit out. “And did you shoot the viscount?”
Gray let out a heavy sigh. This was indeed a complicated mess. “Stuart shot his father after he shot Jenna.”
“Dear God, why?” Blatant incredulity etched the earl’s face. “Start from the beginning and don’t leave anything out.”
Gray slowly began with Margaret’s visit to him earlier that morning and his rush to make sure Jenna was in no danger. He related the scene he had burst in on then Stuart’s arrival and Jenna being shot. When he finished, the earl and countess were both pale.
Even Sebastian and Quinn were speechless.
“I have many, many questions, most of which will wait until I’ve spoken with Stuart, and the viscount’s body is no longer lying on my floor,” the earl said. “But the one m
ost pressing in my mind is how you came to be acquainted with Jenna, and why a maid from my household would go to you when she thought Jenna to be in trouble rather than enlisting the aid of her brothers.”
“I am not sure you want me to answer that, my lord.”
Anger flared in his eyes. “Don’t bandy words, Mr. Douglas. If I didn’t want to know, I wouldn’t have asked.”
“Very well.” Gray studied the four figures in front of him, seeing the mixture of worry, anger and confusion on their faces. Her brothers were already glaring at him, and Sebastian stood with his arms crossed, tapping his foot expectantly. “Jenna and I became lovers in your absence.”
The earl exploded forward even as the countess’s face twisted in horror. Gray barely had time to duck the fist the earl threw at his face. It grazed his chin and snapped his head back.
“You bastard!”
“Pen! Stop it at once,” the countess cried, grabbing his arm before he could throw another punch.
“Leave off,” he growled at his wife. “Did you not hear what he said? He’s seduced our daughter like a common whore.”
“He said no such thing,” she said softly. “He said they became lovers. It hints at participation on the part of our daughter. At any rate, wouldn’t it be better to hear the whole of the story before you resort to brute force?”
“Devil take it, Catherine! What would you have me do, pat him on the back?”
The earl’s jaw was working furiously as he sought to control his anger. Gray eyed him cautiously, ready to fend off another blow. His gaze flitted over Jenna’s brothers who were standing a lot closer to him than they had been a few moments ago.
“I merely wish to hear the full story before the beating takes place,” Lady Penbury said calmly.
The earl sighed in exasperation but unclenched his fist, uncurling his fingers and flexing them. “Well?” he demanded, staring venomously at Gray. “What have you to say?”
“Nothing, my lord. I’ve said all I am going to say. If you need to hear more, it must come from Jenna’s lips.”