Chapter 33

33

B enjamin stared at Mr. Croft, his every instinct on high alert as the truth came crashing down around him. He'd been found out. Genevieve had betrayed him. She and Croft would both have to die in order for him to live.

His pulse spiked on that thought, his only concern the lack of a plan. Acting on impulse would likely be messy, but at least he had one advantage – the fact that everyone knew him to be a cripple.

Which meant there was one way out: kill the pair, then pin Genevieve's murder on Croft. Questions would be asked, most notably pertaining to how Benjamin could have managed to get to her lodgings without his servants assisting. He'd work that out later.

For now, however…

He leapt behind Genevieve, his arm curling around her slim neck while he went for the double-barreled flintlock pistol he kept in his jacket pocket. The choked gasp she produced when he pushed the barrel against her temple turned into a croak when he pulled her flush up against his chest.

"Put the weapon down," Croft growled.

"So you can have the upper hand?"

Croft took a step forward, arms spread wide. "Let the woman go, Lawrence. Killing her will accomplish nothing."

He was wrong about that. Killing her meant he'd have one less opponent.

"It was stupid of me to trust a whore," he hissed in Genevieve's ear as he pulled back the hammer.

A muffled protest was all he allowed her before he squeezed the trigger.

Blood and bone exploded around him and Genevieve's body went limp. He released her while shifting position, training his pistol on his next target as Genevieve hit the floor, the gentle thud she produced a bit underwhelming, all things considered.

"Surprised?" he asked when he met Croft's glare. The man had likely believed he would spare the woman he'd bedded, or at the very least hesitate somewhat before he killed her. Doing so would have sealed his own fate, however, so he hadn't waited and he wouldn't do so now either.

He pulled back the hammer once more, the action cut short by a sharp piercing pain to his chest. Air seized in his throat and his knees went weak. He dropped his gaze to the dagger protruding from his chest.

Croft had thrown it too quickly for him to react. Hell, he'd not even seen the damn thing in his hand and could only wonder at where it had come from. It must have been hidden inside the sleeve of his jacket.

Benjamin drew a ragged breath. His fingers tightened around the flintlock's handle, gripping it even as he staggered sideways, his other hand curling around the hilt of the dagger. He had to get the blasted thing out, but he also had to kill Croft.

"You'll rot in hell for what you've done." Croft's words were like a grim promise, spoken with no small amount of loathing.

Benjamin stumbled backward. His shoulder struck a wall and his legs grew increasingly weak, sliding out beneath him until they lost the strength to keep him upright. He landed on the floor, his throat working to suck air into his straining lungs, the spot where the dagger pierced him like hot coals pushing inside him.

Slumped with his legs spread out before him, he tried to raise the flintlock against his opponent, but was hampered when Croft's foot came down on his hand.

The face of death and destruction leaned in without any hint of pity.

"Here," Croft murmured, pure loathing coating his voice, "allow me to help you with that."

In one fell swoop, he'd pulled the dagger free, the brutality forcing an agonized howl from Benjamin's throat. "Bloody bastard," he choked .

"Pretty words from a man who has murdered at least three people. Care to confess?"

"Go to hell."

"Eventually," Croft snarled, "though I dare say you'll get there first."

There was no forgiveness for the man who was awkwardly propped up against the wall. A hollow sensation devoid of feeling was all Adrian knew as he stared into Benjamin Lawrence's face.

Blood was sprayed across his brow and cheek. It also stained his cravat and the upper left side of his jacket. The woman he'd shot lay but two paces away, her lifeless eyes filled with a silent plea that would haunt Adrian for the rest of his days.

Lawrence had killed her without second thought – a blight not only on his soul but Adrian's too. He'd promised he would protect her. Hell, it had been his damn idea that she send for Lawrence. And when the man had shown up…

Christ have mercy. The poor woman had only been trying to help, and Adrian hadn't been quick enough to prevent disaster from playing out. Which changed things. Lawrence's actions this evening had sealed his fate. There would be no prison or court appearance for him, no time to beg for salvation.

What he'd done was beyond compare – unforgivable in a way that deserved only wrath. So Adrian lifted his foot off Lawrence's hand and retrieved the pistol from his clutching fingers.

"My father will see you hanged for this." A ragged sound wheezing between parted lips. Lawrence's eyes, wide and hateful, followed Adrian's every move as he slowly straightened to his full height.

"I sincerely doubt it." Calmed by the ice flowing through his veins, Adrian pointed the flintlock at Lawrence's head and squeezed the trigger.

The sound of a shot being fired sent Samantha racing for the door to Miss Fontaine's building. She'd arrived only moments before, had not even managed to pay the driver who hollered from somewhere behind her.

Two steps at a time. Up the creaky staircase, her heart in her throat, every terrible possibility playing out in her mind. Yet nothing prepared her for what she found when she burst through Miss Fontaine's door.

Her pulse tripped as she took in the scene: the shattered door hanging crookedly from its hinges, the blood splattered across the wall, and her husband, standing between two corpses with flint in his eyes. It was ghastly.

Ice erupted inside her bones, yet she forced herself forward, her gaze inexorably drawn to Miss Fontaine's gruesome wound. Something inside her contracted, creating a pain that lanced through her heart. This shouldn't have happened. Miss Fontaine should not be dead.

Neither should Benjamin Lawrence, who'd clearly been shot in the head at short range. But without the help Adrian had been expecting, he'd had to deal with the situation alone, though it should not have come to this.

Something must have gone horribly wrong.

She raised her gaze to Adrian's face and was met by a harsh expression. "Where's Murry?"

"He—"

"Don't move an inch." Kendrick's voice filled the foyer, causing the world to shrink around her. She froze, mind racing while working through all possible means of escape. There was a crunching sound as the constable stepped up beside her, a pistol aimed directly at Adrian's chest. "You finally proved your worth, Mrs. Croft."

A sinking sensation pulled at her stomach. She'd led him straight here, and in doing so, she'd made him witness to Adrian's unforgiving nature. There was no denying that he had just murdered a marquess's son – a man the whole world believed to have lost the use of his legs.

Dear God .

Their only chance was to overpower the constable and flee. She stared at his pistol. Could she manage to shove it aside before he fired? Unsure, she hesitated, her breath tight in her breast.

Kendrick gestured with the pistol. Step away from the body . Adrian moved aside. "Drop the weapon, Mr. Croft."

To Samantha's dismay, her husband complied without question. She gaped at him, a tremor sweeping the nape of her neck when he looked straight through her. "Adrian, I—"

"Hold your tongue," Kendrick ordered. "You've meddled enough as it is. If you'll please come with me, Mr. Croft, I'll take your statement at the Bow Street Magistrate's Court."

Adrian stared at Samantha – his wife – and saw the intricate details of the carefully crafted trap she'd devised.

He'd walked straight into it. With his eyes wide open.

Imbecile.

What was it he'd told himself when he'd found out she wasn't the innocent woman he'd thought her to be? That he'd never forgive her. And yet, he'd done precisely that, dropping his guard a little bit more with every confession she'd spoken.

She'd made it seem as though she were confiding in him, as though they were on the same side when nothing could have been further from the truth. She'd still been Kendrick's asset. Everything that had happened just now proved it.

A clammy sensation stole through him, wrapping around his heart and making it writhe in pain. Not that he'd give her the satisfaction of seeing the damage she'd caused. So he bolstered himself against the crushing force with which she'd destroyed him and forced the fury that lurked beneath to the surface.

This he would give her – anger and hate. Not an inkling of the more tender feelings blooming within his soul.

Had he not known better, he might have believed the chief constable's presence surprised her. But he wouldn't make the mistake of trusting her ever again. Once ought to have been enough. He never should have allowed her that second chance. Yet he'd done so anyway, ignoring everything his father had taught him. All because he hadn't been using his brain.

And look where it had led him.

No way in hell would he deign her with a comment. Not after this. So he held his tongue, broke eye contact with her, and strode to the door. Mr. Shaw would hear of this soon enough, but Adrian knew that even his very astute solicitor wouldn't be able to help him out of this. Not when Kendrick himself had arrived in time to see him standing over Benjamin Lawrence's dead body, pistol in hand.

Indeed, there would only be one way out of this mess, and it would be through the hangman's noose.

"You need to come too," Kendrick said, his attention returning to Samantha. "So I can have your version of what transpired this evening."

She glanced toward Adrian, who waited in the stairwell. If he'd wanted to run, he could have. It would have distracted Kendrick and might have given her the chance she needed to overpower him. But Adrian remained compliant, as though the will to fight had been snatched away.

Because he thought she'd betrayed him.

Her gaze returned to Kendrick, assessing, calculating, trying to figure him out. He'd followed her here because he'd known she would try to warn her husband about the threat issued against him. Now he'd know where her loyalty lay and brand her a traitor.

If she went with him, chances were she'd be put in a cell where she would await her sentencing and execution. She flexed her fingers. Whatever his faults, she believed Kendrick would follow procedure. He'd take Adrian straight to Bow Street, then onward to Newgate where he'd await trial. The outcome was certain after what had occurred here this evening. A plan to assassinate him was no longer needed.

Which meant Adrian was safe for the time being.

Her heart settled into a steadier rhythm. She took a step forward as though intending to follow. Kendrick shifted ever so slightly, his attention returning to the man he could not afford to lose track of.

It was a split-second opportunity, and Samantha took it .

Spinning sharply on her heel, she ran, into Miss Fontaine's parlor where she wasted no time in pulling the window open. She was through it in the next instant and climbing up onto the roof, the curses Kendrick shouted at her giving chase.