“Your friend, Bentley, has given me quite a difficult time of it,” he remarked. “In spite of this, I’m here for a full recompense of my losses.”
Mara felt her ire growing as she continued to work on her bindings. “He wasn’t ever yours to profit from.”
He held up a finger. “I beg to differ. I was the owner of theFerrymanand Bentley was one of the slaves you helped escaped three years ago. So in essence you stole him fromme.”
She instantly froze. “What?”
“You heard me.” His eyes flashed. “But no matter. I intend to recoup my losses, with interest.”
Mara’s mind was racing with this new information. “I don’t have anything but my haberdashery. You’re welcome to it, just let us go.”
He cocked his head with an infuriating smile. “Do you really think I would care to take over a shop full of fripperies and ribbon?” He shook his head. “I’m a businessman, Miss Miller, and I intend to offer Lord Eversleigh a profitable venture, for both of us.”
“I doubt that,” Lavinia murmured mockingly.
“Oh, I don’t know,” Mr. Larkin returned smoothly. “I think he might be amenable to my exchange—he gives me what I want, and I don’t hurt those he cares about most.”
“You’re mad,” Lyra whispered.
Mr. Larkin grinned. “Perhaps, but at least I won’t end my days as a pauper.”
“I hope my son doesn’t give you a farthing!” Lavinia snapped.
“Tsk tsk,” their captor interjected. “There’s no need to be rude, Lady Eversleigh, especially when you have much more at stake to lose than I do.” With that, he nodded toward the back of the room.
Out of the shadows limped a man Mara recognized as the former captain of theFerryman.It was a face that had haunted her waking hours for years, but his once-intimidating figure had crumpled into a shell of the man he’d been.
But while she was coming to terms with the shock of seeing him again, it was what he dragged forth that captured her full attention. When that familiar, pale hair came into view, Mara gave a strangled cry and pulled at her bonds until they cut into her wrists. “Lily!”
Mr. Larkin smiled in a calculating manner. “I must say it was rather fortuitous when Greeves and I stumbled upon her a few days ago in Lincolnshire. She was quite disoriented and rambling on at this inn about freeing her sister from a madman at Eversleigh Hall. Naturally, I was intrigued, for that name was quite familiar to me. Of course, she was more than happy to accept my assistance.” His grin widened. “However, I have to say she’s been a bit difficult to control these past few days, so I’ve had to subdue her, so she didn’t make a fuss and draw unwanted attention…”
“You bastard!”
About that time, Mara’s ropes loosened enough for her to pull free. Without giving herself time to reconsider her actions, she dove to the floor and grabbed for Davis’s abandoned gun. The second her hand closed around the grip and she spun back around, an ominous click sounded.
Mr. Larkin’s pistol was aimed straight at her head.
His eyes narrowed menacingly, and Mara understood how he’d gotten his pseudonym of the fer-de-lance, for he certainly looked like a snake, coiled and prepared to strike.
“It wouldn’t do to get on my bad side, Miss Miller, especially when the slightest pull of this trigger will see you joining Mr. Davis’s fate.”
Mara cocked her own weapon, her hand surprisingly steady. “Then I suppose I’ll see you in hell.”
* * *
Roarke felt his heart literally stop beating when that gunshot went off, but the relief he felt afterward was rather short lived.
A surreptitious glance inside the parlor had already told Roarke what he needed to know. Mr. Davis’s lifeless body sat in a pool of his own blood, so at least that explained the blast he’d heard. While it was a shame, for it robbed him of the chance to enact his own brand of justice, Roarke considered that it was one less adversary he’d have to contend with.
His mother and Lyra sat tied together on the settee, while an apparent cohort, crippled by the looks of him, held a pale blonde captive that seemed to be unconscious.
But what concerned him more at the moment was Mara, who sat huddled on the floor in the middle of the room, and the standoff that was taking place between her and a new adversary.
Leaning his head back against the wall near the parlor, he realized she’d just made the situation much more precarious for him.
What the blazes was that blasted woman thinking to put herself in such danger? He had to clench his jaw to keep from barging in there and shaking Mara until common sense returned, but until he was sure the rest of the men were assembled, he had to keep a cool head and let this cretin think he held the upper hand.
So after tucking his pistol in the back of his waistband, making sure to draw his jacket over the telltale bulge, he took a deep breath and turned the corner to make his presence known.
