“Do you believe Willa won’t tell everyone how you tried to have us murdered in the river? What you have done might taint your son’s chance to inherit the title.”
“Not legally. After all, he didn’t have a hand in my deeds. And people really aren’t all that interested in you, Matt. They will hear about the fire and everyone will believe it was an accident—”
“Except me,” a female voice said.
Willa stood in the door. Matt didn’t know how long she’d been there. He would give her a royal scolding for disobeying his order to wait for the officers of the law.
However, she did provide the distraction Matt needed.
George jumped at the unexpected sound of her voice, and Matt charged. He hit George full-on with his body weight. Matt was younger and a bit taller, but George had the strength of madness.
They fell against Minerva in the chair, knocking her over. Both of them lost their balance. Matt grabbed George’s coat, hanging on and trying to keep as close to him as he could.
George scrambled up. He held the axe with two hands. “Let me go,” he was shouting. “Let me go or I kill her.” He was speaking of Minerva, who was on her side on the floor. He started to swing the axe.
Matt grabbed at his arm and threw him onto the ground, pinning George with his weight. Holding him down, Matt sat up and punched his cousin in the head—once, twice, and George was out, his nose bloodied.
Uncertain if George was bluffing, Matt stayed right where he was, ready to strike again—
“Your Grace?”
Matt looked up and was surprised to see the sitting room full of men carrying lamps.
And there was Willa, helping a gentleman lift Minerva, still tied to her chair, to a sitting position.
Matt started for Willa. He didn’t know if he would give her a lecture on the danger of not listening to him or kiss her silly.
She looked up at him just then—and he knew he wanted to kiss her silly.
Someone untied Minerva and took the gag from her mouth. She burst into noisy tears and held her hands out for Matt. He helped her rise. She was very shaky and he understood why. The old girl had been through a great deal this evening. He himself was exhausted.
His grandmother put her arms around him and sobbed. Matt looked to Willa for guidance. “Hold her,” she mouthed.
In all the time he had been around Minerva, she had never asked for affection, not even the simplest of hugs. He put his arms around her and felt her tension ease.
“He didn’t kill William,” she said between sobs for Matt’s ears alone. “I could have sworn he had. It’s as if I feel the pain of losing my son all over again. I can’t believe William could have just fallen off. He could ride anything.”
There it was, she focused on William and ignored her other son, his father. Or the danger they’d all just experienced.
And yet, Matt heard his father’s calm voice when he said, “Perhaps George did have a hand in it, Grandmother. I’m certain William felt the weight of being the source of the blackmail.”
“I’m certain he did.”
Willa offered a kerchief, which Minerva gratefully accepted. “I believe you should rest,” Willa suggested.
“I would like to rest,” Minerva agreed. “This has been very hard. I didn’t know George was taking me to Mayfield until we were on the road. It was as if he changed into another person. He even hit me and he said vile things. I never knew he felt that way.”
“He hid it well,” Matt answered.
On the floor, George started groaning as he returned to consciousness. Two men picked him up. Matt recognized them as his stable lads.
“I fetched them,” Willa said proudly. “I was waiting as you told me to,” she added hurriedly, “but I worried, and I thought you could use help.”
“Why didn’t they come in here instead of you? Willa, George could have murdered you.”
“But you would have stopped him,” she said with every confidence. “I knew I would be safe.”
He kissed her then. He didn’t care if they had an audience. Such trust must be rewarded.
