Lethbridge’s hand began to shake again.
“Better yet, we won’t tell Darington,” William hurried on. “I’ll cover the debt.”
Narrow, suspicious eyes regarded him over the pistol.
“What did you need the money for? Perhaps I can cover that as well,” William added, his voice the calmest he could muster.
“I invested in trade. A storm sank the fleet.”
“That’s rough luck,” William said. “We’ve all been there. I understand.” Would the man ever put down the pistol? To Lethbridge’s left, the door to the record room inched open. William caught a flicker of pale green fabric and silken limbs.
Lethbridge shook his head. “Why should I settle for some when I can have all?”
Arm holding the pistol bobbing and shaking, but generally pointed toward William, Lethbridge eased open the drawer he’d fumbled with earlier. He pulled out a fresh pen. His eyes dropped to the closed inkpot. He frowned. He leaned across the desk, arranging pen, ink and one of the stacks of papers on the left edge.
The door to the record room inched wider. Relief assailed William as he recognized Lanora. Shock followed hard behind. She held a pistol, pointed toward Lethbridge.
“You will have to sign it,” Lethbridge said. “I can’t open the ink.” He shook the pistol again for emphasis.
William wanted to roar in frustration. Did either of them realize how deadly the weapons they held were? What mad reality had he stepped into? He should have brought a pistol of his own, so he could put an end to this.
“Sign what?” William asked as calmly as he could manage. He didn’t dare look full at Lanora, or he’d give her away. What she planned to do, he had no idea.
“The unsigned will. The one leaving Madelina everything, and giving her into my care. Sign as your father. Try to make it convincing. Your life depends on it.”
William started toward the desk. Lethbridge was a fool. This was William’s chance. The desk wasn’t that wide. When he reached for the inkwell, Lethbridge was his.
“Don’t sign it,” Lanora cried, leaping from behind the door, pistol at the ready.
Lethbridge jumped. He swung toward Lanora. William lunged across the remaining distance to the desk, ignoring the pain in his side. Quicker than William would have credited, Lethbridge turned back.
“Get back,” he squawked.
William went still. The pistol was just out of arm’s reach, pointed at his face.
“Lower your pistol, Mr. Lethbridge, or I’ll shoot you,” Lanora ordered.
“Lower yours or I’ll shoot him,” Lethbridge countered without taking his eyes from William.
“For God’s sake,” William growled. If this kept up, someone was going to get hurt. Now that he was sure Lanora was safe, he didn’t give a damn about Lethbridge, but there was every chance that, once bullets began flying, Lanora could be injured.
A slow smile spread across Lethbridge’s face. “I propose you shoot Lord William, my lady.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she said.
“A lover’s spat. Not that anyone will know. You shoot him, and it will be our secret.” Lethbridge’s words dripped oil.
“I will not shoot him, but I will shoot you if you don’t put that pistol down.”
William took some satisfaction in the certainty of her tone.
“I think you will shoot him, when you learn how he’s deceived you.”
“I know about the list. I know about his mistress. We have no secrets.”
Now, Lanora’s sureness knifed into William’s heart. Lethbridge was alive with glee. William’s pulse raced. What did the attorney know?
“Then you must also know that Lord William never lived in Egypt with Mr. Darington. He lived on the poorest streets in London, as a beggar. He and his whore of a mother. She didn’t go mad, she ran off, and took him with her.”
