She held her breath as she waited for his decision. She could only hope it would be the one that left her ungagged. Otherwise, she had no chance to tell Ewan what he needed to know. To help him through this and get them both out alive.
“It’s risky,” Josiah mused. He looked at his brother, but she could tell he didn’t give a damn what Roger thought. The youngest of their set was as much of a pawn in this game as Griffin had been. She wondered if he knew that.
Certainly, Roger didn’t look happy about any of this.
“It would be useful to be able to communicate with that idiot, though.” Josiah rubbed his chin as he mulled it over. “Roger will stand at your side, my lady. If you do anything foolish, I’ll have him put a slug in your skull.”
Roger stepped back, shaking his head. “I’m not shooting her.”
Josiah lifted his gaze, his face twisting. “What?”
“I said I’d help you with Ewan,” Roger said, folding his arms. “Not kill her.”
“You coward!” Josiah sneered as he moved toward Roger in what could only be seen as a threatening pose. Charlotte held her breath. If they fought, perhaps the situation would take care of itself before Ewan even arrived.
But just as Josiah swung on Roger, the younger man cried out, “A rider!”
Josiah turned toward the window that overlooked the front of the house and bit back a curse. “Bloody hell, it looks like Ewan. What is he doing here? My message shouldn’t have even reached him yet!”
Charlotte strained in her seat, trying to see the rider. She caught just a glimpse of him but knew immediately that it was, indeed, Ewan. Which meant he had come looking for her, likely at the shop and Griffin had told the truth about her whereabouts. She was torn between relief and horror.
Relief because he was here and he was coming for her. Horror because Josiah was so unpredictable that this change to his plans might very well cause him to just shoot Ewan on sight.
She shuffled in her chair, making the legs drag on the wooden floor with a squeak. That drew Josiah’s attention to her, just as she’d hoped, and he came toward her, gun lifted to level between her eyes.
She squeezed them shut as he pressed the barrel right to her forehead. “This is a two-shot pistol, my lady. One for you, one for him. Don’t make me use the first one before he even gets to be part of the fun.”
She shook her head. “I-I won’t.”
“Open the door for our brother, Roger,” Josiah called over his shoulder without looking away from Charlotte. “Invite him in to the party.”
Ewan swung down from his horse slowly, never removing his gaze from the house. It was a fine lodge, built four generations ago. He’d always rather liked the place, for it was where he’d gone to hide as a little boy when his father dragged the family to the country.
But now he stared at it and it only caused him fear. If Charlotte was inside, she might already be dead. If she wasn’t, he had no idea how he would find her or what his brother’s treachery would entail. Josiah could hurt Charlotte in so many ways before Ewan even found them, and his heart ached at the thought of not being able to save her.
But to his relief, the door opened and it was Roger who stood there, pointing a pistol at Ewan as he said, “Come in now. Slowly.”
Ewan held up his hands, proving he had no weapon, at least not one he could get to easily. He moved up the stairs, keeping his gaze locked on Roger, and eased past him into the main room of the lodge. He nearly buckled at what he saw. Charlotte was tied to a wooden chair in the middle of the room. Josiah stood beside her, a gun pressed to her temple. Her hands bound cruelly. He could see the pink strain of her flesh between the rough ropes.
But she was alive and seemingly unharmed, and she let out a sob as she looked at him.
“Should I search him?” Roger asked.
Josiah pushed the gun harder against her, causing her skin to go white around the barrel. “No need. He’s not going to pull a gun. He knows what will happen if he does. Don’t you, fool?”
Ewan lifted his chin slightly and nodded. “Your brother is coming around the back,” he signed to Charlotte. “And Matthew will be coming with the guard soon.”
She nodded, though her face showed no relief or fear or anything else. She was perfectly serene and unreadable now, calm in the face of a horrible storm. She said, “He’s asking after my well-being. I’m fine, Ewan. I’m not hurt.”
“Yet,” Josiah corrected, and smiled.
Ewan jolted, for in that moment his brother looked exactly like their father. He had the same cruel bent to his lips, the same spark of anger in his eyes. It almost brought Ewan back to a long-ago time when he’d had no power. Almost. Charlotte kept him grounded.
“It’s allyetat this point, you see.” Josiah sneered. “So, welcome to hell, Ewan.”
Ewan glared at his brother. “Is he letting you translate then?” he signed.
“Ewan wants to know what you’re doing,” she lied. She kept her gaze focused firmly on Ewan’s. The message in her eyes was clear.
