Hisgazeburned intoAtticus, where the fires of angerand perhaps a bit of madnesswereshiningbrightly. “You tried to take one woman from me, but I won’t let it happen again.”
“Ah, yes…” Atticus grinned cunningly, knowing it would make Locklyn even more furious. And that’s what he wanted. An angry man seldom thought clearly. “You must be referring to Josephine.”
“Damn your eyes!” Spittle flew from Locklyn’s mouth. “You knew I loved her and yet, you seduced her away from me until she had no choice but to marry that idiot, Stuart!”
Atticus lifted a brow. “And you thought that by killing her husband that she would be so grateful and come running into your arms for doing her such a service?”
Durmor’s eyes narrowed to slits. “She played me for a fool and when I decided that I would forgive her transgressions so we could be together, she still spurned me, even though I told her I loved her!”
“Women can be so fickle when it comes to matters of the heart,” Atticus scoffed.
Locklyn resumed his struggles, but when his bounds held tight, he glared at his captor. “Laugh now, Clare, for while you imagine you have the upper hand, I can promise you that you won’t steal Fallon from me. My mother wants her and I intend todeliver.”
“Why would Martina wish for Fallon’s return?” Atticus crossed his arms, appearing bored with the conversation, when he wassuddenlyattuned to every word his prisoner spoke.
“BecauseMary Reading washersister, the bitch who ran off with my father!”Locklyn’s face twisted into something harsh, almost malicious. “We were practically shunned after the scandal, but by the time motherthoughtto achieve retribution, she learned that Mary had already died.”
Unsettled,Atticussaid slowly,“So she decided to takeherrevenge out on hersister’sdaughter.” He scrubbed a hand down his face. He couldn’t believe he’d been as duped as the rest of societyand hadn’t discovered the truthbefore now. Even the similarities that had escaped him before now becameclear.But then something occurred to him. “But why would Francine pretend to be Fallon’s aunt?Howdid she benefit by this little charade?”
Locklyn’s face twisted as if the very sight of Atticus disgusted him. “I guess you’ll have to ask her,” he snapped. “I’m done talking when you’re nothing more than a coward,who played at being a privateer instead of serving their country.”
While suchaccusations used to hit their mark, Atticus had discovered something about himself while he’d masqueraded as the Raven over the past several months. He might be many things, but he wasn’t a coward. He just chose to pick his battles and use his talentsto supporta cause he could truly believe in. Thedepravationof an entire population had struck a chordwithin him, whereas later, he’d learned thattheskirmishEngland had participated inwith Russia had not settled well with many of his fellow countrymen.In fact, many had applauded his choicenotto fight in the Crimean War.
Atticus sat forward and enunciated his words clearly. “I don’t recall you taking up arms and rushing across to the continenteither.” Locklyn glared at him, but said nothing, for he couldn’t debate the truth.Atticus got to his feet. “And now, Locklyn Durmor, while I shall confess all my sins in good order, the time has come for you to standaccountable for allof yourmisdeeds.”
With a snap of his fingers, the roomwas filled with a mix of Royal Irish Constabulary, as well as several, British, red-coated soldiers. They surrounded Locklyn, whose eyesnearlybulged from his head. “What is the meaning of this?” heshrieked.
Atticus looked down athim. “The Crown thanks you for your invaluable information, Mr. Durmor, but I regret to inform you that you are under arrest.”
“On whatgrounds?”
He rather enjoyed watching the man squirm. “You are charged with high treason to the Crown in your role as the Raven, and after what you just revealed, possibly murder as well.”
“What are you talking about?” Locklyn’sface was a mottled shade of red. “I have never even seen the man!”
Atticus noticed that he didn’t discredit the murder.
One of the soldiers stepped forward and held up a document. “Then why does this have your signature on it?”
Atticus watched Locklyn’s faceabruptlydrain of all color as he stared at the item in disbelief. “It’s a forgery, you fools! That’s not my signature!”The ruthless expression he wore would have been rather humorous for Atticus if he hadn’t been so pleased with the outcome. Locklynwaspaying for his crimes, but he hadalsomade it possible for the Raven to disappear.
The ropes binding Locklyn to the chair weresevered,astwo soldiers walkedforward to grab each of his arms. They forced him to his feet where hecontinued to plead his innocence. “This is an outrage!” he cried, his focus darting around for some sort of assistance. But when his gaze strayed to Atticus, his eyes lit with hatred. “This isyourdoing! I wouldn’t be surprised ifhewas the Raven!” he ranted.
Atticus stiffened slightly, but one of the other soldiers scoffed. “Mr. Clare has been nothing but helpful in tracking down the bandit’s movements. It was through hisknowledgethatwe found theRaven’s ship, which had convenientlysailed into harbor at the same time you happened to come ashore, Mr. Durmor. And with the additional evidence on board, I don’t see a long trial at the Four Courts in Dublin for you. Now, let’s go.”
“But Iarrived in Galwayon board theSeductive Lady!” Locklyn shrieked. “Just ask the captain—”
“That’s enough,Raven.”With a prominent shove to his back, Locklyn passed Atticus with animosity seething from his every pore. Butwhen he whipped his head around for one last rebuttal, he was theonlyone who sawAtticussmile back.
Chapter Eighteen
Fallonhad rolledoverin bedforthe countlesstimewhen there was a furious pounding on the front door downstairs. Frowning,shetied her robeabout her waist while shewalked hesitantly into the hallway. Mrs. Hinks opened a door on the opposite end,andfastening her own covering, she strode out of her room with purpose.
“What’s going on?” Fallon asked, wide-eyed.
“I don’t know,” Suzanne said severely. “But I intend to find out.” She headed downstairs and Fallon followed behind at a more sedate pace.
Lingering near the bottom of the staircase, she watched as Mrs. Hinks opened the door. “Mr. Thomas, what isthe meaning of—”
