“I saw his body the next day. Head severed. Body riddled with bullets. I didn’t know, but it proved to the council I was loyal.”
Felton didn’t lower the gun, even as shock overtook him. Gladstone didn’t confess to attacking Cecilia, but to getting Felton’s partner killed.
Jeremiah Gladstone was the informant that Felton had been looking for in 1811.
“You’re a double agent? Gladstone, do you know how many people died because of your leaks? The council has been heavy-handed in its reprisals. And Johnson has a little boy who will never see his father because he came along to make sure I got back safely.”
Gladstone backed up. His rifle was slung on his back. If he reached for any part of it, Felton would blow a hole through him.
“All this time I thought my cousin was merely sowing his seed in the Caribbean. You’re a traitor to England.”
“When I saw you in that ballroom in Stabroek, I knew my dealings had been discovered, but then you acted like a libertine lord and won the hand of the daughter of one of the wealthiest men in Demerara. I was spared because you chose to act the fool.”
“The fool?” Felton raised his weapon and shot him in the arm. Then quickly reloaded. “Gladstone, you will die today. I have license from the Crown on behalf of Johnson. But I will kill you for what you did to Cecilia and then do something to your body for Helena.”
Gladstone was on the ground, wrenching off his cravat to staunch the bleeding. “Cecilia? What did she say?”
“That you hurt her.”
“That’s a lie. I never touched her. I’m going to bleed out, cousin.”
“You may prefer to bleed out than your head being blown clean off.”
“I swear on my father’s life that I didn’t touch Lady Gantry. I only tried to humiliate her. She never once looked my way. Just had eyes for you and Tramel.”
He shot at him again. He missed on purpose so that a few of the fine pellets would pepper the man’s coat sleeve.
“She’s made you crazy because of what I did to her sister. I never touched Lady Gantry.”
A chime went off in Felton’s head. The gonging of truth. He eased his finger from the trigger. “Admit to your crime and tell me why.”
He dropped his head. “Mr. Thomas died before paying the dowry. The uncles would give no money. I was married with no money for it. Then she was with child. What was I to do with that?”
“Gladstone, you used her up and sold her.”
“I’m a blackguard, but I couldn’t bring an island woman and babe with no money to show for the trouble. No brown children would be accepted as a Gladstone.”
Felton realized what Cecilia had meant. Gladstone was Noah’s father, but Cecilia wasn’t the boy’s mother, Helena was.
“You shot me. You’re going to forgive me. We are blood, Gantry. My cousin. No one has to know.”
“But I know. Cecilia does. Liverpool will know.” Felton raised his gun.
Gladstone backed up to the cliff.
The sounds of the waves below could lull a soul to sleep, but not one set for revenge. Putting his finger again on the trigger, he aimed the flintlock. “You were trying to marry my sister. What misery would you’ve caused her?”
“That one might’ve been a misery to me, but I still need a dowry.” His cousin fell to his knees. “I want forgiveness. You can’t do any worse than the torture to my soul. Helena was the most trusting woman, so kind. And I betrayed her in every way. Turn me in to the Department of War and the Colonies or kill me now.”
Gladstone was untrustworthy and a traitor. Felton should finish him off, but his aim was never good being this emotional. He’d have one more shot before the hunting party returned and Gladstone could confess to being hunted.
Along the winding road that followed the cliffs, a carriage rushed toward them.
Reluctantly, he’d waited too long, Felton again lowered his gun.
“You may have gotten a reprieve. The Department of War and the Colonies will deal with you.”
The carriage door opened, and Cecilia bounced out and ran toward Felton. “Don’t have to kill him for me. He’s not guilty of rape. Not of me.”
