She was brought back to the moment only by the baron’s sudden bellow, and she stood abruptly, coming over to see what was the matter.
She smiled grimly over his shoulder. There were rows and rows of velvet, with indentations where jewellery should have been.
Instead, it was all empty, and beyond, where there should have been a wall, a door opened into darkness.
Chapter 20
Xander blinked his eyes open, trying to focus on what was in front of him.
But everything seemed to be swimming, hazy, while in his ears was nothing but a hum, his head dully aching when he tried to turn it to look around.
He attempted to stand, but when he was unsuccessful, he realized that he was tied to a chair, with his hands bound behind him and his feet tied to the bottom.
“It’s no use.”
Damien’s voice — coming from behind him.
“The ropes are too strong. And there’s no one left to come to save us.”
Xander shook his head despite the throbbing and blinked again, this time his eyes focusing through the dim light to see Arie sitting across from him, his mouth set in a grim line as he stared at him from the chair in which he was equally bound. So all three of them were here — Damien behind him and Arie across from him. His heart began to pound as he thought of Juliet, alone in the house. He hoped she would know to escape, to take Annabelle and get away from here, jewels or not.
“It was a trap,” Arie grunted, obviously as displeased with himself as he was with anyone else. “As soon as we were out of sight of the house, Shiplack held me by gunpoint. The two of them brought me here, to this cottage.”
“Before coming back to find us,” Xander said grimly as the memories began to return.
He recalled opening the closet door to find the jewels spread out before them. He and Damien had quickly filled their bags, but when they turned back to re-enter the tunnel, they found Mrs. Shiplack had been waiting for them, dual pistols levelled and a look in her eye that said she wasn’t a stranger to using them. Xander had turned to see if escape through the bedroom was possible, but when he had turned, Shiplack had been waiting with a shovel. He must have hit him in the back of the head.
Now here they all were.
“Did they take the jewels?” Xander asked Arie.
“They did. Although if it’s any consolation, much of what they have are Juliet’s paste and pinchback.”
He grinned at that, but Xander wasn’t amused. This was not the time to joke, especially when it came to Juliet’s careful planning, which they now had completely ruined.
“Why the long face, Xander?” Arie continued, tilting his head to the side. “You’re usually the one who has a word of encouragement, who tells us all that it’s going to be all right.”
“Maybe I would,” Xander said, the rage that had begun to boil within him now threatening to spill over the edge, “if it was just us here. If I knew that we would be able to get out of this alive and well. If Juliet wasn’t inside, at the mercy of the men who somehow managed to trick all three of us!”
“I thought you decided that we were just using Juliet to help us with this scheme,” Arie said, arching an eyebrow in that way of his that Xander usually found amusing but today only caused him irritation.
“I lied, all right?” Xander burst out, trying to jump from the chair, forgetting about the tight binds for a moment. “I wanted you to go along with the plan, to not leave her behind again. I knew that if you thought I was still planning on taking her along, you would cut us both out of everything.”
Arie grinned smugly.
“Ah, Xander. Did you really think you could lie to me?”
“Lie to you?”
“I knew you made it all up, that you were still planning on going along with her. I was only hoping that if I showed you benevolence, you would realize where you true loyalties should lie.”
“Don’t you understand?” Xander asked in exasperation. “I don’t need to split my loyalties between you and her. If you would only accept how I feel about her, then there would be no cause for deception. There would be no cause for lies. I could be myself, with you and with her, and not worry about what else might come.”
Arie subjected him to an assessing stare, without artifice in his gaze. But before he could respond, Damien cut in.
“As much as I believe that the two of you should certainly sort through all of this, I’m not sure that this is the right time to do so. We’ve been given time alone — perhaps we best make a plan?”
“I’ve got one,” Xander said, nodding his head. He may have been verbally sparring with Arie, but he still knew what he had to do. There is no question about it, no thought process, just instinct — he had to escape and protect Juliet.
Before they could take any action or discuss anything further, however, the door of the gamekeeper’s cottage opened, and in walked Mr. and Mrs. Shiplack.
“Well, well, what have we here?” Mrs. Shiplack asked, walking into the room with a feline grin on her face. Gone was the empty-headed, ill-treated wife, and in her place a partner, an adversary. Xander braced himself, for those who could so easily deceive were often the most dangerous. He was well aware from his own experience.
“They came too close. Got into the safe,” Shiplack grunted as he followed her, a matching pistol in his hand. “We’re to take care of them.”
“Just what, exactly, is that supposed to mean?” Arie asked from his corner.
“You shut your mouth. You were never supposed to be involved.”
Xander glanced at his brother, wondering what had caused the others to become suspicious of him in the first place.
As though he had heard Xander’s question, Shiplack continued. “I received word from London. There was no such art dealer as you. You lied to the baron, and he blamed me for it.”
“Well, you were the one who found me and brought me to Wilington’s attention, so I suppose he was right to do so.”
“Enough!” Shiplack shouted as his face turned purple, and Xander noted that the man was not able to keep his anger under control. “Continue and I will gag you.”
He turned back around to Xander and Damien. “As for the two of you, you are no one. Footmen. No one will miss you. But you know, I don’t blame you for trying to take Wilington’s collection. Hell, I tried to myself.”
Xander did his best to rub the ropes of his bonds against the chair. Once a man started confessing, it meant that he had no fear his captive could ever tell another. It wasn’t a good sign, and they had to get out of here before it grew too late.
“Why didn’t you?” Damien asked, obviously trying to keep Shiplack talking, to buy some time.
“I tried. Couldn’t get into the damn safe,” Shiplack said with a self-deprecating laugh. “Besides, the baron upped the price tag as well as my portion of what I’d receive. I earned it, after all. Helped him buy the jewels for less, by tricking the man who sold them to him, then found him a man who would pay more than they were worth.”
“Or so you thought,” Mrs. Shiplack added, and Shiplack turned his red face toward her.
“Enough.”
Mrs. Shiplack’s eyes narrowed, worrying Xander as he realized she might be far more dangerous than her husband.
“I have plans,” Shiplack said, his eyes gleaming. “I’m to be Wilington’s equal partner on everything. Once he dies, I’ll receive all of his collection.”
“All except that which will go to his heir,” Xander pointed out, and Shiplack walked over to him, leaning down overtop of him.
“You’re wrong. This will not be entailed.”
Xander shrugged — or, at least, tried to.
“So you think. But do you know for sure what the baron has planned? Maybe you are just a vain acquaintance, a man he is using to get what he wants.”
“That is not true!” Shiplack lashed out. “We are friends — good friends. And we are leaving together. We are all going to Bath — me and the missus, with Wilingt
on and his woman.”
His eyes gleamed at the mention of Juliet, and Xander’s fingers drew themselves into fists, although he retained his control.
“I see,” Xander said with a slow nod. “Well, I hope the best for you. Say, how about this. Release us, we will go on our way, and you will never see us again.”
The Shiplacks looked at one another and laughed before Shiplack advanced upon him. “I think not.”
Xander looked down the barrel of the pistol, trying desperately to determine just how he was going to find his way out of this mess. The one thing he knew for certain was that if he ever did so, the only thing he needed once he left was Juliet.
“One last question for you.”
“Very well.”
“Where are the jewels now?” Xander asked, tilting his head as though he was simply curious in the answer.
“What do you mean?”
“Do you even know where they are? Or has the baron hidden them on you? Do you really think he will share them with you?”
“Of course I know where they are,” Shiplack said indignantly. “I took them from you myself. I haven’t even told Wilington yet. They’re hidden in this very cottage, on the other side of the wall, underneath the bed. Once we do away with you, we will inform the baron that we have found them and are ready to leave.”
“Does Wilington even know they are here?” Xander asked, wondering if there was any chance he could divide loyalties. It seemed the only possibility out. Perhaps Arie or Damien were having better luck with their ropes.
“Not yet. He was going to collect them himself, but then I happened upon you.”
“Ah, when you were going to come steal them for yourself,” Xander said, beginning to see the entire plot. Wilington and Shiplack were working together, yet he had the feeling that each of them had been planning to double-cross the other. “How interesting, then, that you don’t believe he would ever do the same to you.”
“That’s enough talking,” Mrs. Shiplack said, walking forward and taking the gun from her husband. “If you can’t shoot them, Stanley, then I shall do it myself.”
“Before we begin shooting, perhaps we best discuss why I have an empty closet.”
They all stopped at the voice that filled the doorway. The baron began to walk into the room. His steps were slow and his eyes were cloudy, but he still seemed to understand just what was happening in front of him. Xander tried not to react when he saw that Juliet followed behind him, even as he wished that she was as far from here as possible. This was no place for her, and he could only hope that she would stay out of the way, or, better yet, find a way to escape.
But of course, Juliet chose instead to put herself in the midst of the danger.
“Mrs. Shiplack,” she said with surprise in her voice. “What are you doing here? Are you well? I thought you had to return home.”
“Don’t believe everything you see, princess,” Mrs. Shiplack said, her lips curling into a smile before she turned to her husband. “Let’s finish this business so we can leave here with the jewels.”
“Speaking of,” the baron said, his lips peeling back away from his teeth, “where are they?”
“They tried to steal it all,” Shiplack said, pointing to Xander and Damien. “We found them, hit them over the head, and brought them down here.”
“Well done,” the baron said, and Xander cringed. He was hoping to grow distrust between the two of them, not strengthen it. “And where are the jewels now?”
“They are well hidden,” Shiplack said with obvious attempted nonchalance, and Xander’s optimism increased a notch. Perhaps Shiplack’s trust had ebbed after all.
“Where are they, Shiplack?” Wilington growled, his patience going the way of Shiplack’s trust. As they argued, Xander noted Juliet begin to circle around the room, away from the baron. He tried to shake his head at her, to motion at her to leave, but she was no longer paying him any attention.
“Before we decide that,” Shiplack said, “I think we best come to an agreement on just what I am to receive from their sale.”
“We already did that.”
“It’s not enough. Not after everything I’ve done.”
“They are my jewels!” The baron was sputtering now, and Xander was concerned that the man was going to drop to the ground. Somehow he didn’t think this is what the physician had in mind when he’d told him to rest. “And your buyer,” he pointed at Arie in disgust, “is nothing! No one!”
Juliet had completely disappeared now, the others in the room too distracted to notice that she had left. Xander prayed that she was escaping, finding a door and getting herself away from here. If nothing else, he would try to give her, as well as Annabelle, time to leave.
“They may be your jewels, but you wouldn’t have bought them at such a low price if not for me. And while this buyer may not have worked out,” he waved toward Arie, “I will find you another who will. I deserve a much higher percentage.”
Wilington walked over to Shiplack, pointing a finger in his face. “You ungrateful son-of-a-bitch.”
Mrs. Shiplack lifted the pistol, pointing it now toward the baron instead of Xander, which was far preferable.
“Take that back,” she ordered.
“Oh, and what are you going to do?” Wilington asked, his ignorance about the intelligence and cunning of women blinding him to what Mrs. Shiplack was capable of. “You are not going to shoot me. You do not know how.”
“That,” she said, pulling back the hammer, her eyes narrowing, “is where you are wrong.”
There was a deafening boom in the air, gun powder flying everywhere after Mrs. Shiplack pulled the trigger. Xander cringed, waiting for the smoke to clear, and for Mrs. Shiplack to turn on him.
“Enough of all of this,” she snapped now, showing no remorse at what she had just done to the baron, who was now lying prone on the ground. “Stanley, collect the jewels. I’ll take care of these three as you obviously don’t have it in you.”
Shiplack began to back out of the room, clearly as afraid of his wife as the rest of them, while Xander exchanged a horrified glance with Arie. His brother always had everything, every eventuality, so carefully planned. To see such stark terror on his face told him one thing — Arie had no plan. And there was obviously no reasoning with Mrs. Shiplack. They were without options.
Mrs. Shiplack turned toward him, apparently deciding that he would be first to go. She narrowed her eyes again, bringing him into her sights, and Xander said a prayer for his soul, ending with the hopes that the Lord would watch over Juliet and ensure she had a good life.
Then the gunshot sounded and he could see and hear no more.
Chapter 21
Juliet took a breath. And then another. She began to lower the gun, which was shaking in her trembling fingers, before she hesitantly crossed the room, scared of what she was going to find.
While perusing the cottage she had found a back room, and in one of the bags packed to leave, a pistol. She had learned to shoot a gun many years ago — and it wasn’t the first time she had aimed one at a person.
But she had never shot to kill. And while she knew how to use a pistol, it was not as though her aim was particularly true. She could have just as easily killed Xander as Mrs. Shiplack, and she had no idea how she would ever live with herself if she had.
Just as she took a step closer toward the bodies and the chairs, footsteps sounded behind her, and she whirled around, lifting the weapon as Shiplack re-entered the room, his eyes widening when he saw Juliet standing with the gun.
“It wasn’t your wife who fired the shot,” she said, shocked at how even her voice was. “I suggest you put down that bag.”
Shiplack did as he was told, his mouth opening and closing but no sound emerging. Juliet still couldn’t see what was within the room, as the light outside was dimming and the smoke too thick in the air. The only one she could see was Arie, so with the gun trained on Shiplack, she crossed to him and began to work at the kno
ts that bound him to the chair. She wasn’t particularly successful one-handed, however, and she nearly cried out in relief when Annabelle ran through the door of the cottage.
“Juliet!” she said, her hands on her knees as she had apparently expended a great deal of energy in getting here. “I have to tell you—”
She stopped abruptly when she took a moment to see all that was before her, but Juliet had no time for explanations.
“Untie Arie,” she said, and Annabelle nodded and got to work as Juliet kept the gun on Shiplack, even while she heard a moan from the middle of the room. Her heart beat more rapidly than it was likely ever supposed to as she wondered who was lying injured, but there was nothing she could do until she had more help. After what seemed like hours instead of seconds, Arie was free, and he walked over to her, taking the pistol from her, having to slowly remove each of her fingers which she hadn’t realized had been gripping it in a vise.
“I’ll take that,” he said, more gently than she knew he was capable of.
The moment he had it, she forgot everything else as she flew across the room toward Xander. The smoke had begun to clear, although they were losing light as time ticked by.
“Xander,” she cried out, crossing to where he remained slouched in his chair. Her actions were panicky as she began to pull at his bindings, and soon Annabelle was beside her, helping her, her motions much calmer than Juliet’s. Once they had Xander free of his bindings, she caught him in her arms, seeing a red trickle of blood at his forehead that caused her to panic, until she heard his name being screamed aloud — before realizing that it was coming from her.
As she laid him on the floor next to a moaning Mrs. Shiplack, she saw all her worst fears coming true — she had shot him. He was dead because of her, and she would never be able to forgive herself. Suddenly, a wave of understanding overcame her, as she realized — now far too late — why he had left her in the first place. When it was she who had been shot, when the bullet had gone through her leg, Xander had been beside himself. And now she knew what it felt like.
A Jewel for the Taking: Thieves of Desire Book 2 Page 15