“Liar!” Alaina exclaimed, but Christopher was already a few steps ahead of his cousin.
Christopher pointed his pistol directly at the end of Charles’s nose, pushing him back into the study, and assessing the scene around him. An ugly bruise marred the perfection of Alaina’s temple, a raised welt partially disfiguring her face.
“Are you ok, my dear?” Christopher asked, not changing the sights of his gun, and continuing his advance on Charles. In a few steps, Charles was forced to again sit in the chair at the study’s desk, this time with none of the smugness.
Alaina met her husband’s eyes with elation and fear and touched her fingers lightly to the contusion, wincing. “I am as ok as I can be. It hurts, but I am otherwise unharmed.”
Assured of his wife’s health, Christopher turned his eyes back to his cousin, not once moving his pistol off its target. “Lucky for you, cousin, my wife appears to have survived your manhandling with just a bump and bruise. Otherwise, you would already be dead.”
“But it was not me!” came Charles’s plea, but before Alaina could present another counterargument, they all heard a bang of the door against the stopper and the subsequent ricocheting vibrations of the large wooden panel.
“You bastard,” came a snarl from Mr. Reid, who was resting on the door jamb for support as blood slowly dripped onto the floor, seeping through his jacket.
Christopher surveyed the man, amazed he had survived the altercation upstairs. He had been unconscious only moments earlier. His right arm hung unnaturally at his side, blood streaming from his fingertips, and his left arm folded inside his outer coat. Christopher assumed it was an attempt to stem the blood from his shoulder.
Felton finally worked up the strength to stumble into the room, walking unsteadily in the direction of the desk and settee. Alaina managed to find enough strength to move off the couch and over to Christopher, who had stepped into the corner of the study to stay clear of Felton.
Felton’s wheezing filled the study. “You said we could both find better fates with a simple kidnapping, but now I find myself with blood on my hands again for you while you try and save your hide at my expense. At every turn, you have thwarted my ambition: you lied to me about the success of your business, and then you put Lady Barbara over me like a lovesick swain. So in cahoots you were with the lady that I had to remove her from the equation! And now you try and convince your cousin that you are the innocent party!”
Charles seemed paralyzed in his seat even as Felton closed in on his position. “You harmed Lady Barbara?”
Mr. Reid shouted, “I had to! You would have handed over everything I did, everything I earned, to satisfy your love, or lust, for her.”
“But it was not like that. I do not even love her, you have to believe me!” came Charles’s plea.
Mr. Reid now stood less than a foot away from the chair Charles occupied, and sneered. “I have certainly met a lot of two-faced blokes in my life, but you, sir, take first prize. Say goodbye.”
And with that, the hand in his coat came free to reveal a pistol, and another volley of shots rang out in the hunting lodge.
To Alaina and Christopher’s surprise, Mr. Reid crumpled to the floor, and yet a blossom of blood could be seen on Charles’s white shirt, exposed by his jacket, just where his heart would be. A quick glance at the door revealed that Graham had somehow made it down the stairs and reloaded, all while dragging his wounded leg. He slowly lowered himself to the floor almost in a complete slide, as Christopher stepped over Felton’s body to get to his cousin, being sure to check that the man was actually dead this time, the hole in Felton’s head leaving no room for doubt.
Charles was sputtering by the time Christopher got to him. “You know, you always had it so easy,” Charles struggled, blood and spittle spraying as he talked. “Never had to worry about anything, never worried about money, never had a vice, you even got lucky when you married a woman who actually loves you. Even had a mother who was honorable, though I doubt you know much of that.”
“What?” came Christopher’s question, the marquess feeling powerless to stem the flow of blood from his cousin’s chest.
“You were too young, really,” Charles started, coughing a bit, as blood splattered his lips. “My father found a love note in my mother’s things, some London season when we were young, and she somehow convinced him that she was helping your mother hide an affair. Your father refused to believe him, each brother accusing the other’s wife of infidelity. Turns out it was my mother’s own deceit and shame that tore this whole family apart.”
Stunned by the deep family secret, the only word Christopher could muster was, “Why?” It seemed he had misjudged Charles’s character entirely. And to think, he had always wanted Graham and Alaina to form a close bond with his remaining family member. How foolish he had been.
“Why kidnap my wife and hold her for ransom?” Christopher asked again.
Charles choked, coughing up blood as he tried to answer. “Every man has ambition and vices. And I was unfortunate to be surrounded by those with bad ideas of how to achieve my goals, money and power,” came the answer, so simple, and yet perfectly summing up the mayhem he had wreaked. It seemed that humans were always reduced to basic, uncomplicated reasons and motivations, no matter how complicated the situation appeared.
And with that Charles took his last breath, an anticlimactic gurgle before his body gave way to the damage wrought by Mr. Reid’s close-range shot.
A hush fell over the room and Graham struggled to remain upright against the doorjamb, closing his eyes against the pain. Christopher surveyed the carnage, still in shock at what had transpired in so short a time, and at what he had learned. Tears of terror and relief flooded Alaina’s eyes, and she brought her hand to her chest in an attempt to steady her beating heart. She closed her eyes, and a tear escaped onto her cheek as she quietly sobbed.
“We really do have the worst pair of cousins, Christopher,” Graham said, breaking the silence. “I will be the first to admit that I always disliked Charles, but never could figure out why. Now I can at least put to rest any guilt I had.”
Alaina was first to react to Graham’s injury, and she scrubbed away tears as she made her way over to the duke to provide aid. “I would have to agree with you on that account, Graham.” Alaina stated, touching his arm as Christopher applied pressure to the wound on Graham’s leg.
Graham turned his glassy eyes toward Alaina and studied her face for just a few moments before turning his attention back to his friend. “You know I would only take a bullet for you or your lovely wife. You owe me now.”
“And how should I repay you?” Christopher questioned.
“I am sure my love story will be something grand with highway heists and such, so I will call in the favor then,” Graham said weakly, attempting a smirk to Christopher and then Alaina, before fainting from the pain and loss of blood.
Alaina grasped Christopher’s arm in worry, but Christopher was quick to reassure her. “He has just passed out from exertion. From what I can tell, Graham has lost a fair amount of blood, but not too much. The wound is largely superficial. We do need to get him back to the manor house as soon as possible and get him proper medical attention.”
