“Yes, but you’d have Ashton’s millions to spend.”
Roman silently prayed he could keep Black talking and get him to lower his guard. No matter what, he had to keep him from shooting Judith, even by accident. In Black’s state of mind, who knew what he might be capable of?
Finally, everything was coming around right for Norbert Black. All his life he had known he was destined for greatness and wealth. He had been beyond excited when James Ashton spoke of making him his heir. He had come up with this as he shared his plans for the Ashton Block in downtown Minneapolis.
“I will have you in a position that willallow you to honor my wishes and benefit from themat the same time,”Ashton had assured him long before deciding to bring Judith into his life.
It wasn’t Bert’s fault that the old man changed his mind. Everything that had led up to this moment was a hodgepodge of good and promising, as well as frustrating and intolerable. In the early days, Bert had felt confident that he could become invaluable to the man and win his absolute trust and confidence, but that wasn’t the way James Ashton did business. He trusted no one. Ever.
Judith was another story. She was a beautiful woman with great compassion and trust. He could have a good life with her. He just knew he could train her to be what he needed. She was smart and capable. They could accomplish a great deal together. Maybe they’d move back to Philadelphia. He really had no desire to remain in Minneapolis, and in Boston, his father and brothers would only make his life miserable. Oncethey knew how wealthy he was, they’d be after him for money. They’d believe that Bert owed them. But he owed no one.
“You really don’t need the gun anymore,” Judith said from where she sat watching him.
He stood at her left side, gun in his right hand, the barrel still fixed on her. Of course he wouldn’t shoot her now. Turner had relinquished his claim on her. If only Bert had known that Turner was causing such problems. It was no wonder that she wouldn’t agree to courtship with Turner confusing her.
Where was that valet? He’d gone to get a bridal gown for Judith. They couldn’t be expected to marry if she was still clad in black.
“Where is Winchell? Why is he taking so long?” Bert felt a growing sense of discomfort. What if Winchell had run off to bring the police? It hadn’t occurred to him before now that the man might do something underhanded like that. Bert had been so happy about Judith agreeing to marry him that he hadn’t thought of the servant being deceptive.
“Where is he!” Bert’s raised voice brought Judith back to her feet. Her action took him off guard, and he nearly fired the gun. “Sit!”
“Please stop waving that gun around,” Judith said, shaking her head. “You’re making me positively sick to my stomach with worry.” She put a hand to her abdomen.
Bert considered her a moment, then calmed. “I’m sorry. I just don’t want to be made a fool of. Winchell should have returned by now. There’s no call for him to take so long.”
Judith smiled. It was such a pretty smile, and one intended only for him, not for Dr. Turner.
“Bert, there’s a lot to be done. They’ll have to sort through my things to find the proper dress, and then there are the undergarments and shoes. It will take a little time to gather everything together, and if the gown needs to be pressed, then that will also take time.”
He hadn’t thought of that. Of course, it all made sense. Confusion muddled his mind, and that never made for good reasoning. He needed a drink.
“Pour me a drink,” he said, looking at the doctor. “Ashton keeps the liquor in that cabinet over there.” He pointed to the cabinet near the entry to the billiards room.
Roman nodded. “What would you prefer?”
“Whiskey. Just whiskey.”
Turner crossed the room with a backward glance at Judith. Bert felt his ire rise. “Don’t look at her. She belongs to me. She’s going to marry me. You heard her say as much.”
“I did, indeed.” Roman went to the cabinet and opened the door. “You’re a lucky man, Mr. Black. Mrs. Stanford is a kind and gentle soul. You really shouldn’t frighten her so. It could cause her to suffer apoplexy or something much worse. Fear takes a terrible toll on our bodies.”
Bert frowned and cast a glance at Judith, who was still standing. “Please rest, my dear. Perhaps a sherry would help?”
“I don’t imbibe in alcohol, Bert. I just don’t like being frightened, and guns have always upset me. They’re very dangerous and can go off without warning. I would feel so much better if you would at least uncock your revolver.”
He really could hear the fear in her voice. “Very well.” He raised the pistol to point upward and eased back the hammer while gently pulling the trigger. But his thumb slipped, and the gun went off, sending a bullet into the ceiling overhead.
Judith screamed, and Bert dropped the gun. Complete confusion washed over him. What should he do? He could take Judith in hand or reclaim the gun, but he could hardly do both. Already she was running toward the far door. Bert tried to move, but he couldn’t. He didn’t know what to do. Nothing made sense.
21
“Stop!” Bert yelled as he reclaimed the revolver.
Judith froze in midstep and turned. “I feared that gun might go off again. You could have hurt someone,” she chided. “There’s no call for guns. Please put it away.”
She hoped he would be sane enough to register what she was saying. He was clearly confused about the reality of the situation. Judith kept calm, hoping she could keep him distracted enough to refrain from any more gunplay.
“I didn’t mean to frighten you, Judith.” He looked for a moment at the gun and then to where Roman still stood by the liquor cabinet. “Bring me that drink!”
