Unable to hold himself back any longer, Drake shot the man in the foot. “Good heavens, my pistol accidentally went off. How dreadful.”
Amidst Rum’s howls, Mr. Osbourne cleared his throat. “Yes. Dreadful when that happens. Perhaps you should have its mechanism checked.”
Drake tipped a nod while noting with no small amount of satisfaction that Catherty had started frothing at the mouth like a rabid animal. “Yes, Mr. Osbourne. I shall have it checked at my first opportunity.” He stepped forward and shoved the barrel of his unspent gun against the side of Catherty’s head. “I need only one of you alive to find her.”
Catherty paled considerably. “West of here. Between Grange in Borrowdale and Derwentwater.”
“You lie.” Broadmere shoved his pistol to the other side of Catherty’s head. “How could they possibly get that far in such a short amount of time?”
“That is where they were to go,” Catherty said through clenched teeth while holding his head extremely still. “Ask for the Beans. The locals can guide you there.”
“If she is not there,” Drake said, “I shall return and kill you…slowly.”
“Your Grace.” Mr. Osbourne cleared his throat again. “Lord Wakefield. We shall keep these four in the roundhouse until we return from Grange.”
Reluctantly, Drake stepped back and slowly lowered his weapon. Broadmere did the same.
Reloading his pistol, Drake noticed the magistrate stayed behind as his men dragged the injured Rum from the room along with Cathertyand the two guards. “Once Lady Felicity is safely returned, I shall answer whatever questions you might have regarding my assumption of the title to Wakefield.”
“I shall have no questions, my lord,” Mr. Osbourne said, his expression grim. “I was in search of you when I was directed here to the inn.”
“In search of me?” Drake finished loading his pistol and tucked it back into his belt. “You had already become aware of my fraud?”
“You are not a fraud, my lord. The sixth Earl of Wakefield was found dead in your garden earlier today. Your butler, Yateston, heard gunfire. When he investigated, he discovered the earl with a self-inflicted wound that proved most fatal. I was fetched to the scene immediately and can confirm without a doubt your uncle ended himself, since witnesses here at the inn and also Broadmere Hall provided us with a most reliable alibi for your whereabouts.” He dug in his pocket for a moment, then pulled out a note. “And then there is this. It was pried out of his hand when we examined him.”
Try as he might to feelsomethingabout his uncle’s death, Drake felt nothing at all. Not anger. Nor relief. His uncle’s suicide was but one more facet of a man Drake realized that he had never known at all. He opened the parchment to find four words written in the center of the page:Now you are real.He crumpled it and threw it into the hearth, where enough smoldering coals remained to catch it afire. As far as he was concerned, it was too little, too late. He would never be real, and nothing as insignificant as the title would ever excuse how he had hidden the truth from Felicity and put her in harm’s way.
“Thank you, Mr. Osbourne.” He offered the man a polite bow, then turned to Felicity’s brother. “Shall we leave now?”
His expression unreadable, Broadmere nodded. “Definitely.”
“I shall come with you,” the magistrate said with finality. “They have surely left people there to guard her, and who is to say how many scoundrels you shall face?” As he escorted them from the parlor, henodded as though speaking his thoughts aloud. “We shall bring a few of my men as well.”
“We are leaving immediately,” Drake said. There was no time for niceties. “And you must not deplete the forces guarding Rum and Catherty.” Even after Felicity was safe, he still had grim business to finish with those men.
“Our forces will not be depleted,” the magistrate reassured him. “Binnocksbourne will not go lightly on those who would harm a daughter of the Broadmere family.”
Drake wasn’t surprised at the sentiment, especially when it came to Felicity. A kinder, more caring woman could never be found. He swallowed hard and lengthened his stride. He had to save her. Not only so he could apologize but also assure her he would never trouble her again.
“We will not reach her by nightfall,” Broadmere said as they took to their saddles.
Drake spurred his mount onward. “Then darkness shall be our cloak.”
*
Curled on apallet in the corner, Felicity stared out into the darkened room lit only by the remaining coals still glowing red in the hearth. Both Edmund and Mrs. Bean’s snores drowned out the gentle chirp of the crickets outside the door and window. Both had been left open to coax inside some of the cool night air and dispel the oppressive warmth still coming off the stone fireplace that not only heated the cottage but also served to cook all the meals.
She tried not to move too much and cause her chains to rattle. It was silly, she supposed, to worry about disturbing her captors’ sleep. But the Beans were not bad people. They were merely trying to survive and had been as kind to her as the current situation allowed.Their fear of the vile Mort and his brothers was palpable, and Felicity completely understood. She harbored no doubts whatsoever that those men were capable of any cruelty.
A heavy sigh left her, and for what seemed like the hundredth time, she tried to wad the thin pillow to a more comfortable angle under her aching head. Mrs. Bean had cleared away the blood and promised that the split and the large knot left behind by the terrible blow would soon heal. Felicity’s fear now was what had happened to Merry. She knew her sister and could just imagine an enraged Merry giving no thought to her own safety as she jumped into the fray to save her.
Please let Merry be safe.
She tried to close her eyes and think of happier thoughts, but at the moment, she hadn’t the strength or the mood to bring any to mind. She was a prisoner, her sister could be wounded or worse in a ditch, and this was all because of the man she had trusted with her heart. A choking lump of emotions knotted in her throat, making her squeeze her eyes shut tighter. She had always sensed there was something more he wasn’t telling her, other than he was penniless and in dire need of a wife with a dowry, but never had she imagined such a grandiose lie as impersonating a peer. It was inconceivable.
But he said he loved me.It had seemed so real when he had said it, and their first kiss. She pinched the bridge of her nose and pressed the corners of her closed eyes, determined not to cry. She had to be the greatest fool that ever walked the face of the earth. Had he been lying about his love for her, too?He rejected the dowry.But had that been merely a gesture? Grand talk to impress her and her family? Would he have eventually accepted it afterallowinghis resolve to be worn down?
In truth, the only lie of omission of which she had previously been aware was that of his financial state. Would he have told her if she and Merry had not peeked into his garden that day? His supposedly proposing to countless women according to their dowries had been acruel lie cooked up by the mean-spirited Nedia and her gaggle of friends. Felicity couldn’t very well blame Drake for that misunderstanding.
