He blanched, opening his mouth to call for help.
I pounced.
It was too easy, grabbing him around the shoulders, pinning his scrawny arms to his side. The blade bit into the soft flesh of his throat.
“It’s time to learn what you’re made of,” I laughed softly.
I pulled him down the beach in the opposite direction from where we’d come from. He walked with stilted steps, not trying to jerk away, but not willingly cooperating. The boat I had stashed was still moored to the shore.
“Get in.” I gave him a shove.
He tried to scramble away, but I pulled out my gun. “I wouldn’t.”
The front of his beige pants bloomed with an acidic stain. The fucker pissed himself.
With a sigh, I pocketed the blade, still holding the gun. “Get in the fucking boat.”
He did.
Unfastening the boat, starting the motor, and casting off the shore took less than five minutes. My gun stayed trained on the Brit, who didn’t make a sound. I jumped into the vessel, working the fishing sloop out to the mouth of the point. It wouldn’t fare well in rougher waters, but it would serve for the purposes I had in mind.
Cutting the engine, I let the tide pull us along. “Time to start talking.”
“About what?” The words trembled as they fell off his lips.
I pulled out my phone and set the video to record. “Tell me how you designed a plan to become the next Earl of Heartdown.”
The spineless jellyfish caved. Steven began to ramble. I asked probing questions, forcing him to spill the ugly truth. The story was classic, a tale as old as time. This brother envied his sibling. Without putting in the work, he wanted to reap the rewards showered upon another.
“And where does Archibald Loring fit into this?” I demanded.
“He helped me with the contracts to take over the family companies,” Steven explained, seeming confused why I asked about the lawyer. “He also made sure the inheritance terms were met.”
“He didn’t help you kill your brother?” I already knew he hadn’t. Archy didn’t like the messy parts of business.
Steven shook his head. “That was me.”
“And how much are you paying for these services?” I pressed, ready to drive the matter home.
He muttered a number.
“That’s a pretty high sum for legal advice,” I mused. “You sure that attorney fee doesn’t cover something else?”
“No!” Steven insisted.
I frowned. That wasn’t the answer I was looking for. Loring was up to something. I hadn’t figured out what that was. The exchange of power, the largepayments, they pointed to something. I felt it. An uneasy squelching sensation gnawed at me.
“Why were you paying Loring so much money?” I repeated. This point needed to be driven home.
Steven narrowed his eyes. “Who are you?”
“Answer the question.” I brandished the gun off camera. “Now.”
With a resigned sigh, Steven caved. “I needed a bride to become the next earl. Loring supplied his daughter as part of the negotiations.”
“You tried to buy a bride. What if she didn’t play along?” Each word was torture. I wanted to sink my fingers into his chest. Rip out his beating heart with my bare hands.
“Loring assured me that she would do whatever he asked her to,” Steven admitted.
