His outburst baffled Simon. “What on earth are you talking about?”
“You,” Kirk hissed. “You’ve long been the bane of my existence. I’ve tried everything to rid myself of you, but you persisted like the plague.”
“I don’t understand. What have you done?” Thinking back there had never been anything but easy camaraderie between them. No close calls. No attempts on his life or unexplained accidents. What could he be talking about?
Kirk continued on, deep in his diatribe, his face growing red as his anger mounted. “I thought that if you became earl you would resign from the agency. But still, you stayed on, acting as if you held the fate of the entire world in your hands.”
Simon froze, horror sweeping over him. Surely he wasn’t suggesting… He couldn’t even bear to consider the possibility. Kirk paused, something remarkably like pain marking his features as he saw Simon’s evident agony.
“Surely you don’t think your brother really committed suicide,” he said in disgust. “Really, Merrick. And here I was so envious of your abilities.”
Isabella gasped, her hand reaching out for Simon’s.
“You killed Edward?” he managed to croak out.
“Yes. It was rather easy actually. I assumed with you as the heir you would give up the agency and return to Hertfordshire.”
Kirk’s voice turned almost pleading. “He deserved to die. Surely you can see that. He took everything from you. From me. I did it for you, Merrick. So that you would have what was rightfully yours. So that you would retire from the agency and become the earl. So that you and I could remain as we were.”
His face hardened. “But you refused, and I was forced to take more drastic measures. If only you had done as you should have.”
“Don’t you dare say you did this for me,” Simon spat.
Anger wild and hot surged through him until he feared he would explode. That Kirk had killed Edward was incomprehensible. All the years of not knowing why his brother had committed suicide. The anger, grief and overwhelming sorrow. All because of Kirk.
And his father. Kirk killed him as surely as if he had pulled the trigger and shot him. His sadness over Edward’s death had pushed him into an early grave.
Suddenly all the subtle hints about Simon retiring made sense. Time and time again Kirk had tried to persuade him to leave the agency. Had insisted on calling him Merrick when he inherited the title even though for years he had referred to him as Simon. It was a reminder of his new station. His new duties. And represented Kirk’s hope for him to quit and pave the way for Kirk’s treachery.
“Youbastard.” He seethed, barely controlling the urge to lunge after Kirk and wrap his hands around his miserable neck. His rage threatened to spiral out of control when Kirk continued to stare at Simon as if he had done nothing wrong. Simon clenched his fists in an effort to quell the eruption of fury that was imminent.
“If you had just retired to your country estate and done what it is earls do, then we wouldn’t be standing here contemplating the circumstances of your death,” Kirk said wearily. “I had no wish for you to die. My only goal was the princess.”
“What has Montagne offered you?” Isabella demanded.
He cast her a baleful look. “Think you this has anything to do with Montagne? You give him far too much credit. He has only done as he was ordered.”
“Then why?” Simon spat out. “I deserve to know what it is you think was worth my brother’s life.”
“Leaudor is but a tiny piece in the puzzle,” Kirk said with a curl of his lip. “A means to assist the larger goal. Though I could care less what happens as long as I receive payment.”
“So you’ve been plotting against England all these years?”
“I’ve looked after my best interests all these years,” he corrected.
“And how many people have you murdered for your own selfish aims?”
“I lost count,” he said blithely.
“Who recruited you if it wasn’t Montagne?” Simon demanded.
“Yes, I suppose you’d love to know,” he said with a smirk. “After King Fernando was assassinated and the princess disappeared, I was approached by a group of Bonaparte loyalists who promised me a great deal of money if I handed the princess over to them. When you agreed to bear her back to Leaudor, you inadvertently made things much easier for me. I merely sat back and let you do my work for me, and now I step in and hand the princess over to them and collect my hard-earned wealth.”
He smiled smugly—a pleased, self-assured smile—as if he were applauding his ingenuity.
Isabella’s slim hand gripped Simon’s arm tighter. Then she rose from her perch beside him.
“Back down, Princess,” Kirk ordered, waving the gun at her.
