“Callie, don’t.” Gordon lurched to his feet and took the weapon from her. “Killing brothers is a bad habit to cultivate.”
She let him have the pistol without protest. She was shaking from shock and pain. “Are you sure Francis wasn’t in on the plot to kill you?”
Gordon studied his youngest brother. In the flickering firelight, his face was so pale the freckles showed. “I’m sure. He is like his mother as I am like mine. The fatal flaw in Audley men is to be like our late and unlamented father.”
“You . . . may be right,” Francis whispered. “Eldon was clever and could be very amusing, and he seldom sharpened his tongue on me. But he had a cold, ruthless streak. I just didn’t know . . . how ruthless. Did he cause Julius’s death, too?”
“He said he didn’t, but that accidental death gave him the idea of clearing the way to the title for himself,” Gordon said dryly. “So annoying to rid himself of Welham and then have me get in the way.”
“I never knew how much he wanted to inherit. But he used to mock me for my simple rural ambitions.” Francis swallowed hard. “Perhaps I should have guessed from that.”
“Are you going to turn me over to a magistrate because I killed Eldon? As a peer of the realm, I would be tried in the House of Lords and would surely be acquitted.” Gordon sighed, exhausted at the thought. “But it would be a long, drawn out affair.”
“You’ve convinced me that justice was done tonight.” Francis stared at Eldon, then took a deep breath. “I suggest that we throw his body into the fire. It will be assumed that was how he died.”
Gordon gazed at the devastated tower. The flames were dying down, but they would suffice. “That would certainly simplify matters.”
“I have a request,” Francis said uncertainly. “Will you not make it public that Eldon killed Welham and tried to kill you? He doesn’t deserve to have his reputation preserved, but I’d rather avoid a horrible scandal.”
Young Francis was showing himself to be pragmatic and able to deal with harsh reality, traits he shared with Gordon. “If you want to put it about that he died heroically trying to rescue me and Callie, I won’t argue the point. He’s gone. We’re alive.”
Gordon turned to Callie, who had slumped to the ground again. “Will you be all right for a few minutes while we do what’s necessary?”
“Yes,” she said in a raw whisper. “And then, please, let’s go to the dower house. I don’t care if they haven’t finished cleaning it properly.”
“Neither do I.” She was obviously at the end of her tether, with drying blood in her hair and pain in her face. He touched her cheek. “Yes, Catkin. The dower house.”
He and Francis each took one of Eldon’s arms and dragged him back to the burning tower. The flames were diminishing now that most of the flammable interior had been burned through, but the blackened stone walls remained.
“We need to toss him through the door into the cellar,” Gordon said.
Francis gave a grim-faced nod and between them, they swung the limp, heavy body into the fire. It swiftly vanished in the flames. Francis said heavily, “I wish that he’d been a better man.”
“So do I,” Gordon said bitterly. “I was looking forward to having a brother who could be a friend as Welham and Julius never had been.”
After a long silence, Francis said, “You still have one brother left.”
Danger and loss forged unexpected bonds, and Gordon realized that he and Francis had similarities that he’d never shared with his other brothers. “I do, and I hope we can be friends in the future.” He offered a hesitant hand.
Francis took it in a hard clasp and they met each other’s gazes. Yes, in the future they could become true brothers.
Releasing the clasp, Gordon asked, “Are there any other casualties of the fire?”
“No, everyone else was in the lower house. You and Callista were the only ones thought to be dead.” As Francis spoke, the threatening rain finally burst from the sky in a downpour. Francis smiled wryly. “That should help put out the fire. I think the lower house is largely undamaged.”
Gordon shrugged, not caring. What mattered was Callie. He splashed through the rain and gently lifted her in his arms. “Francis, can you arrange a carriage to the dower house for us?”
“Of course.”
As Francis headed off at a fast jog, Callie protested weakly, “You don’t have to carry me. You’ve done enough of that tonight.”
“Never.” He kissed her forehead. “I’d carry you to the ends of the earth, Catkin.”
Releasing her breath in a tired sigh, she burrowed into his arms. “About now, that sounds very good.” The rain was washing soot from her face, leaving it pale but peaceful.
In the distance, Francis’s voice could be heard calling, “Lord and Lady Kingston are safe! They escaped the tower! They’re safe!”
There were shouts and people began running toward Gordon. He tensed, but the faces and voices were relieved and glad.
