Another tap sounded at the door, this one fraught with urgency. Connor opened it a crack, then wider as he motioned Bram inside.
“M’lady. M’lo…er, sir.” Bram bent over and braced his hands on his knees, panting hard. “That man? He says he’ll see Dickie sacked and he has been holding Albert for insub… inboard…”
“Insubordination?” Piper supplied.
Pushing his ginger forelock aside, Bram nodded up at them, with his freckles stark against his pale face. “Like mutiny, Albert says, for him refusing to let the duke take Horse. He means to have him whipped.”
Fury reignited in Connor until steam could have literally been rising from him. His body was taut, face afire, and blood pounded in his temples. Hands fisted, what he’d been about before Piper distracted him returned to the forefront of his mind.
“He’ll do nothing of the sort, lad. Never fear.”
With a foul curse on his lips, Connor strode toward the door. Piper leapt after him but it was Temple who caught his arm.
“We need a strategy.”
“I have one. A verra simple one.” And the justifiable anger to excuse anything he said or did.
“Beyond homicide?”
Unable to swallow back the entirety of his deadly wrath, Connor nodded noncommittally. He would guarantee nothing.
“Care to join me?” He directed the invitation to Temple. “Make certain I behave myself?”
“Alas, as much as I’d love to offer my support, Rutledge knows me and what I do. He will be more suspicious if he’s aware of my presence.”
“I want to come,” Piper leapt in. “Albert is very dear to me. I want to know he’s unharmed.”
“I will see that he is,” Connor insisted. “All of this is for naught if ye’re presence is compromised, lass. Yer safety is all that matters.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m getting rather tired of hearing that. There are other things to consider.”
A flash of humor chased across Temple’s eyes. “You MacKintosh men have a way of attaching yourselves to ladies of equally indomitable will. I’ll see what I can do to convince her.”
Piper lifted a hand to Connor’s smooth, freshly shaven cheek and tried once more. “Promise me you’ll do no more than talk?”
A brisk negative shook his head to the side. “I cannae make ye that promise, lass.”
As his hand touched the handle, she offered one last piece of advice. “Then do not underestimate him, Connor.”
He nodded abruptly, his jaw clenching anew. “He’d be best no’ to underestimate me.”
* * *
Satisfied that Piper was in the safest of hands, Connor toyed with his cufflinks and considered his next move as he strode down the hall with Bram trotting alongside. What happened beyond their notice wouldn’t hurt either of them. Temple’s warning and Piper’s entreaty aside—though he admired her sacrifice for his sake—Rutledge deserved more than the slap on the wrist the crown would provide. A secluded island in the North Sea wouldn’t be prison enough to hold the duke or force him to change course.
He’d never given much thought to killing a man. Never had the need. Days ago, the concept had been abhorrent. Unthinkable. Apparently, he’d never had sufficient foundation to rationalize such thoughts before. Now, he had something he’d defend to the death. His own or another’s. That made all the difference. Thrashing the duke no longer offered a satisfactory degree of recompense for what he’d done. Murder, pure and simple, danced freely through Connor’s mind.
As he jogged down the central staircase, he wondered if it made him anything like the duke that he so cheerfully considered it.
A bullet to the head. Knife to the heart. Pleasant fantasies. Alas, he didn’t have a gun in hand or a blade. There must be an armory about where he might find one. On the other hand, using his bare hands might provide far more satisfaction. Then there were other alternatives.
He descended into the main hall only to realize with some disappointment that his favorite among them wasn’t going to be an option. Indeed, none of them were. At least, not at the moment.
A quartet of armed guards were stationed behind the tall, slender man who stood central in the tense scenario.
Rutledge. Blond, with an arresting yet stoic face, he appeared irrationally angelic to have committed the atrocities rumored of him.
This was the man who’d hurt Piper. Who’d instilled fear in her. Who tried to rape her and nearly succeeded. Too bad his guards were unlikely to stand aside and watch him drown the duke in his soup.
