“Father traveled.” He spat at the ground. “The coward. I worked hard at my studies. But no matter how I tried to comfort her, her response swung between two options: ‘Why can’t you be more like your brother?’ and ‘Why couldn’t it have beenyouwho was sent away?’”
Peyton’s heart broke a little for him. How could it not? “I’m so sorry, Carson,” she whispered. The fire cackled in the silence. “How did you learn the curse was on Alistar specifically? I mean, what did it signify to you?”
“Everyone who is anyone in London knows of the curse on the earls of Griston.” He laughed softly, a chilling sound that obliterated any warmth from the fire. “Mother wanted Sarah Christine to leave Django. Of course, she refused, claiming he was the love her life.” He shrugged.
“I believe he was,” Peyton said.
“Django hated the tenth Earl of Griston, Joseph Spears. All the Romani in England hated him. He didn’t know Alistar. At first, I sought out Alistar to spite Django.”
“At first?”
“Then he paintedWithin the Shadows, and I was forced to stay close. He started raking in the blunt after that scathing review you wrote that showed up inArt News. It was published in 2014. All the while, my family could hardly manage to put food on the table.”
“But he hired you as his agent. Surely he paid you?”
He smiled at her. “We’re talking millions of pounds, my dear.” Gone was the vulnerable child, replaced with the suave mastermind. He rose and sauntered over, standing above her, a giant ready to crush the underling. “So, it’s time for you to die. Mother will surely appreciate the riches your death will reap.”
Panic choked her enough without the noose around her neck. Her fingers and toes were numb, her stomach a coiled nest of vipers ready to strike, and it felt as if the poison from their fangs had already seeped into her blood.
He took up the rope around her neck, pulling her to sitting. It slackened and she coughed, a violent sound that hurt her throat. “Carson, you don’t want to do this,” she croaked out.
“Oh, but I do. Once you are dead, I have no need to follow Griston about.”
Alistar stood in the trees, Tarron at his side. He and the man might have only one thing in common, but it was the most important thing in Alistar’s world. Peyton. Peyton’s love. The situation before them was perilous. Peyton was alive, but her life was in danger. He was sick at how he’d let the curse steal his own life. Sick at the distractions he’d permitted, wallowed in, burrowed beneath.
Never again. Alistar moved out from his place within the trees. “Ah, but there is no need for you to follow me about. Not any longer, Carson.” He raised the pistol. “I have no need of an agent who attempts to kill my future wife.”
Tarron snorted behind him. “You haven’t asked her yet, dickhead.” He spoke softly but remained hidden. He would be the bane of Alistar’s existence, Alistar had no doubt.
His gaze narrowed on the blood across her neck. It appeared it was due to the roughness of the rope, not a knife, thankfully. He eased forward. No sudden moves. Everything rested on handling the matter delicately. Once the police made their appearance, things would grow more dire. Carson had nothing to lose, while Alistar had everything.
Peyton remained as still as an S. C. Beck marble sculpture.
“Drop the rope, Carson.”
Carson laughed, a maniacal trill that iced Alistar’s blood.Nothing to lose.“You can’t really believe I’m that naive, my lord?” He tightened his hold, pulling Peyton clumsily to her feet. “Drop the gun, Alistar. With one sharp tug, I can snap her neck.”
He was right, damn it. Alistar dropped the gun.
“Kick it away.”
What other choice had he? He kicked it away. He lifted his hands in surrender. “Now what, Carson?”
“You’ve always been such a fool, Alistar.”
“You won’t get an argument from me,” he said. “Why kill Peyton, Carson?”
“Haven’t you heard, Lord Griston? I’m an heiress. Apparently, a substantial one. My biological family will inherit on my death,” she said, her voice raspy.
“The opportunity to hang Caitlin Skerry was just too precious to pass up,” Carson said conversationally. “She will be following in her own ancestor’s footsteps.”
“Aren’t you the least bit frightened of the curse I’ll put on your head, cousin?” she said casually.
Alistar marveled at her calmness.
Carson jerked on the rope, tripping Peyton to her knees. “Shut up,” he growled.
“Now!” Alistar said, throwing himself to the ground.
