“I would not waste your time with such folly. I know you wouldn’t do it. You can keep her if you wish. I merely want the estate, the Kirkby estate.”
“That is not in my power to give,” Nathan replied, moving quietly from where he had stood when they entered the room to a new position.
“I think it is, in a way. Though I doubt you could force her to sign. She always was headstrong. Even more so than her father,” Dunkeswick said. “I tried to persuade him that such a fortune should not be left to a woman. Other great estates are passed on through the male line only, why should Kirkby differ?”
“And he disagreed,” Nathan said, moving again to a new position.
In the darkness, the two brothers would be constantly trying to pinpoint him by the sound of his voice. He was doing the same but with far more practice than they. The sound reached him of a pistol being cocked. Stamford, no doubt.
“He did. He would not be persuaded to change his will.”
“So, we took steps to ensure our inheritance.”
“I know all about it. You murdered him,” Nathan replied.
“We arranged for the accident that would take his life,” Stamford replied. “Where the devil is he? I can’t see a thing. Eugene, can we not light a lamp or draw the curtains?”
“Be silent!” Dunkeswick hissed. “There is not a shred of evidence against us.”
“Or against you for the murder of Kirkby’s solicitor who refused to cooperate in the theft of Gemma’s birthright.”
“Accidents are commonplace. Especially when arranged,” Stamford said mockingly.
“Will you be silent!” Dunkeswick roared. “Enough of this! We require a witness to a declaration that our cousin is insane. With that, we can legally acquire the right to make her our ward and her inheritance will be ours. Your signature as a Duke would carry a great deal of weight. Sign the declaration or you will never see Emily again.”
“Very well. Where may she be found?”
“Your signature first,” Dunkeswick said.
There was a rustling of paper.
“Marshall? Light, please,” Nathan said.
He had positioned himself so that he stood directly behind Stamford, judging by the voices. The darkness in the room was calculated to disorient the two men – put them off balance, particularly Stamford. He was the one most likely to be armed, most likely to use his weapon. As he gave the command to Marshall, Nathan had already reached out. Stamford turned and the barrel of the pistol slapped into Nathan’s hand. He tightened his grip and wrenched it away.
“What the devil!” Stamford cried out, clutching at his wrist which had been twisted in the process.
“I am not armed. So, you need not be either,” Nathan said calmly, uncocking the pistol and opening the pan to let the powder spill to the floor.
“This man is a blasted wizard!” Stamford snarled.
“No, brother. Just a very clever blind man. I am holding out the paper, Your Grace,” Dunkeswick said icily.
“Marshall, take it and confirm its contents,” Nathan said, tossing the pistol aside.
He waited as Marshall crossed the room and took the paper.
“It is an affidavit confirming that you have witnessed Miss Stamford in bizarre behavior to the detriment of her own wellbeing and that you believe she is mentally incompetent. Already signed by a man bearing the title of Doctor, though I am not familiar with the name.”
“A very gifted consultant from London,” Dunkeswick said.
“A pen if you please, Marshall,” Nathan said.
As Marshall moved in the direction of a bureau in a corner of the room, Nathan smiled politely.
“You must understand, gentlemen, that while I consider you to be blackguards, I have no personal grudge against you. I merely wish to ensure that Miss Carlisle is safe. What you have done to secure your fortunes is no business of mine.”
“I understood that you cared deeply for our cousin.”
