Charlotte sat perfectly still, her pulse roaring in her ears.
‘I grow tired of your games,’ Lord Stanley said curtly. ‘Tell them the offer stands. If they want a deal, it will be on my terms. I want an answer before this house party ends. If not, I shall withdraw everything.’
Wolverton gave a strained laugh. ‘No need to fly into a temper. I shall pass it on. I am sure they will agree.’
‘See that you do.’
Lord Stanley released him, turned sharply upon his heel, and strode from the room.
The door slammed behind him.
Was he truly prepared to kill for her?
The thought left Charlotte stunned. More unusual still was the undeniable feeling of safety that, for perhaps the first timein her life, someone wished to protect her. Quietly, a strange warmth unfurled within her.
In the silence that followed, Wolverton waited.
At precisely ten o’clock came the sound of metal grating against stone... followed by footsteps. Not one set—but two. Charlotte craned her neck, trying desperately to glimpse where they had entered from, but from her position she could not tell. Somewhere along the wall opposite the library door, she guessed.
‘A bit over the top, isn’t it, gentlemen, using the secret passageway?’ Wolverton sounded amused.
‘One can never be too careful. Lock the door—we do not want interruptions,’ came a gruff reply.
‘Of course.’ Wolverton crossed the room and turned the key in the lock.
Though muffled, Charlotte recognised the voice at once.Hamilton.
So she had guessed correctly after all. Hamilton was an Odd Fellow. There could now be no doubt of it.
‘Did you get it?’ another voice asked.
Lord Boulton.
Charlotte hardly dared to breathe as the two men stepped fully into view.
‘I have it. What are you going to do with his diamond pin?’ Wolverton asked.
‘Give it here,’ said Hamilton.
‘Where’s Falcon?’ Wolverton glanced between them.
‘He could not get away from the other guests,’ Boulton replied.
Falcon. That must be the third Grand Fellow, Charlotte realised.
‘Now what are we going to do about Stanley? What did he say?’ Wolverton asked.
‘Falcon’s orders are to get rid of him, same as before,’ came Hamilton’s dry reply.
Boulton gave a cynical smile. ‘We tried poison—he would not drink. His food is guarded. Even Falcon’s hired men failed. The man is impossible to kill.’
Falcon again... who could he be? Certainly one of the guests—they had practically admitted as much.
Charlotte tried not to make the slightest sound, scarcely even daring to breathe for fear they might hear her.
‘Perhaps we need a different approach,’ Hamilton replied. ‘Any ideas?
‘Why kill him at all?’ Wolverton argued. ‘He could be useful.’
