by Tracy Kay
“You plan on killing us both?” She took another step towards him. Maybe if she could distract him, she could get the knife away from him. Not likely, but she had to try.
“You don’t strike me as being daft, so let us not pretend.” He curled his lip in mild amusement. Like all women, she was predictable. She would beg and plead. He took such pleasure when they begged.
“Why are you doing this?” Joselyn was puzzled by Farrington’s desire to kill her and her brother. She really had believed that Lord Marshall had been the killer. Madeline had been right after all. Why hadn’t she seen that Lord Marshall wasn’t a killer? Why hadn’t Brandon and Nicholas seen it? Why hadn’t they listened to Madeline? They should have listened. She should have listened. She grimaced at herself and answered her own questions: because she wanted this to be over. She had been so wrong. They had all been so wrong.
“Because I can. And I want your land. By killing you and your brother, I can easily get it. No one is going to inquire too deeply into your deaths,” Farrington explained. “You have no family left and no one will care.”
“You don’t have to kill us,” she tried to reason, taking another step closer.
“But I do. Alive, you or your brother could make things unpleasant for me. I can’t have that.”
“I have friends who will look into our deaths.” She was becoming desperate. She had to figure a way out of this. She didn’t want to die. She was getting married. She was going to have wealth, a title, and respectability. She was going to have what Madeline had, maybe more. Finally, she would have everything she wanted. And Jeremy, he was barely a man. He hadn’t even lived yet. It wasn’t fair. She had worked so hard only to lose it all. No, no, no!
“Yes, yes, I know, the Cathcarts. They have been a thorn in my side, but I don’t think they will cause too much trouble,” he remarked smugly.
“Think again, Lord Brumley,” Madeline snarled as she entered the room. “I will cause a great deal of trouble.” Madeline’s anger suppressed her fear, making her voice firm and unwavering.
“Maddy,” Joselyn whispered. Joselyn huffed in relief. She wouldn’t have to fight Farrington. Madeline would do that for her and would fix everything. She could slip away while Madeline had him distracted and Madeline would save Jeremey for her. Farrington would kill Madeline while she got away. Everyone would be sad that Madeline died, but they would have her. After all, she was better than Madeline. She deserved to live, not Madeline. Yes, this was the way it should be. Madeline would die. Joselyn would take her place, and finally, she would be happy.
Looking up in mild surprise, Farrington grinned mockingly at Madeline. “Ah, Madeline Cathcart. An audacious little thing, aren’t you, considering our last encounter. Obviously, you do realize I have to kill you as well.”
“If you manage that feat, which is unlikely, my brothers will kill you in return,” she said calmly, sure of her brothers’ reaction. Farrington would never get away with killing her, this she knew. Also, she knew she had to keep her wits about her despite her fear, which she was not going to let him see. She couldn’t allow his words to get to her. Like a mantle, she gathered her strength around her to shield herself from Farrington’s cruelty.
“I don’t like girls like you. You always over-exaggerate everything, too much talk, and too much bravado. You are no enjoyment whatsoever,” Farrington sneered at Madeline and then gestured towards Joselyn. “But take your friend here. She is perfect. She is the type who cowers when threatened, begs at the appropriate time, knows when to shut up, and knows her place.”
“Enough of this,” Madeline demanded in a steady and sharp voice. She wasn’t about to show this awful man how terrified she truly was of him. “Let them go now and perhaps we can put this behind us.” She glanced at Joselyn who was picking at her dress distractedly, ignoring the events unfolding before her. Madeline frowned, and for the first time, it occurred to her that Joselyn wasn’t quite right in the head. She didn’t react normally to stress. Madeline crinkled her brow in irritation at herself. This wasn’t the time to ponder Joselyn’s psychological stability.
“You are a tenacious creature, aren’t you? Perhaps, I will kill you first,” he threatened. Taking the knife away from Jeremy’s throat, he gestured at her with it, waving it around nonchalantly.
“I didn’t want to do this.” Madeline boldly pulled the gun out from where it was hidden between the folds of her gown and aimed it at Farrington. She didn’t want to have to use it. Her aim wasn’t that good and she brought the gun only to threaten him with it hoping he would let them go. But enough was enough! She was tired of these threats and someone had to put a stop to him.
Farrington grimaced, irritated with the girl. “Before you can use that gun, I will kill the boy.” Again, he placed the knife against Jeremy’s throat.
Joselyn was startled out of her reverie and shook her head in denial. “No!” Joselyn cried.
Panicking, Madeline squeezed the gun’s trigger, her green eyes opening up wide in shock at what she had done. As the sound of the gunshot echoed in the room, the door was thrown open and Brandon, Nicholas, and Stephen came rushing in.
Farrington stepped back as the bullet hit his shoulder. Quickly recovering, he grabbed Joselyn by the arm as she stared at him in disbelief, unable to comprehend what was happening. Twisting her in front of him, Farrington sliced across Joselyn’s neck with the sharp edge of the blade. He allowed her body to slide to the floor as he grinned maliciously at Madeline. “You are next,” he threatened, pointing at her with the knife dripping with blood and disappeared through the door behind him.
Dismissing his shock, Brandon ran after Farrington with Stephen at his heals. Nicholas rushed to Joselyn and sank to his knees. He took Joselyn into his arms, trying to staunch the flow of blood pumping from her throat. It was useless. Joselyn was already dead.
Stephen silently returned to the room and quickly untied Jeremy as he watched his brother hold Joselyn tightly in his arms. He couldn’t believe what had happened, and he didn’t know what to do. He was in shock. They were all in shock.
Madeline dropped the gun from her numb fingers. It landed with a loud thud onto the floor. She fell to her knees beside Joselyn, picked up her limp hand, and held it to her cheek. “Oh, Joselyn, what did I do,” Madeline cried. “I am so sorry. I thought he . . . all this is my fault.”
Free of his bonds, Jeremy placed a hand on Madeline’s shoulder. “Lady Madeline, don’t blame yourself. You didn’t do this. He did. Farrington killed my sister. Put the blame where it belongs,” Jeremy said wisely as a tear slid down his cheek. He kneeled down and put his arm around Madeline. “She wouldn’t want you to blame yourself. This is what Farrington wanted. He planned on killing her. It was all he could talk about,” Jeremy stated with disdain.
As he re-entered the room, Brandon shook his head at Stephen’s unasked question. Farrington had gotten away. Brandon quietly instructed Stephen to get the authorities and placed a hand on Nicholas’ shoulder who shrugged it off without a word. Crouching beside Madeline and Jeremy, Brandon put an arm around each of their shoulders. “Come on, I want you both to go home.”
“But Joselyn . . .” Madeline gestured weakly.
“Nicholas will take care of her.” Brandon picked up the gun and tucked it into the back waistband of his breeches before he led them both out of the room.
Aaron Farrington stumbled into his parlor, breathing hard, and clutching his shoulder. In surprise, Alfred looked up from the paper he was reading. “What happened to you?”
“What does it look like, you fool? I was shot,” Farrington answered testily. “Well, are you going to sit there gawking or are you going to help me?”
Rushing forward, Alfred helped his father to the sofa. “Who shot you?”
“Madeline Cathcart, the bitch,” he snarled.
Alfred stared at his father in surprise. “Why ever for, Father?”
Farrington groaned in exasperation. “The situation got out of
hand and I panicked. I killed Joselyn Parker.”
“You killed a lady?” Alfred asked in bewilderment and sat hard in the chair across from his father.
“Don’t be so surprised. I have killed many times, but I am usually better at covering it up. I rarely make such mistakes. I hadn’t planned on killing her.” Farrington was dissatisfied with himself for making such an error of getting himself shot. When he saw Jeremy on the street, he had seized the moment, not sure what he would do once he had the boy. But impulsively, he took the boy and sent Joselyn a threatening note. He should have known that Madeline or one of the other Cathcarts would have followed Joselyn. Farrington’s threats of killing Joselyn had been bravado. He was merely trying to frighten the boy. He had no idea the threat he had told Jeremy would occur. He smiled to himself. Actually, he was quite pleased with the outcome. With her death, Joselyn ceased to be a problem and the boy would easily be eliminated.
Hmm, what to do with the Cathcart chit? She had to die for shooting him that was for certain. It was simply a question of how and when. He peered at his useless son and snapped, “Get me something to bandage this thing up.”
“I will send for a doctor.” Alfred began to stand but stopped at his father’s enraged voice.
“I don’t have time for that, besides it is only a graze. The girl is a lousy shot, fortunately for me,” Farrington grouched.
“Even so, a doctor should examine at it,” Alfred insisted, waving at the bleeding wound.
“I said no. I need to find out what they are up to. If I know Cathcart, he will try to whisk his sister out of the country and have some ridiculous plot to make me think she is somewhere else. He is probably planning it with Morgan as we speak. The issue is figuring out to whom he sends the girl, Morgan, Spencer or Cassandra. He won’t keep her with himself that is for sure.”
“Or Maxine Stuart,” Alfred suggested, wanting to assist his father, but wanting to stall him from hurting Lady Madeline as well. He sincerely did want to marry her.
“Maxine Stuart.” He pursed his lips and discounted her. “She arrived only a few weeks ago. She won’t be ready to leave yet. She needs to unload her cargo. I wish I knew where the hell Chameleon was. She always seems to arrive unexpectedly,” he mused, forming a plan.
“Last I heard, Father, she was in the Carolinas,” Alfred added, trying to be helpful. He had overheard a conversation between Damon, Nicholas, and Simon at the ball where he learned Maxine had returned and Chameleon was in the Carolinas. At the time, he hadn’t known the information would be useful.
“She never stays in one place for long. You can never count on her to be predictable. I don’t have time to worry about her.” Dismissing her, he changed the subject. “Is your and your brother’s ships ready?” When Cathcart and his cohorts had become a problem for him, Farrington had purchased ships for his sons. The ships had become valuable over the years for spying, keeping track of Cathcart, and for increasing his wealth. He was grateful they were currently in port for his use.
“Yes, like always,” Alfred nodded. “You truly believe Madeline will be sent from England on one of their ships? Isn’t that extreme?”
“It is something Cathcart would do to protect his sister.”
“What if you are wrong?” Alfred was skeptical of this scheme. It made more sense to him to keep Madeline close to home.
“I won’t be,” Farrington grimaced. “Cathcart is predictable,” he grunted as he ripped the sleeve off his shirt to inspect his bleeding wound. “I am going to take your ship and follow whoever leaves first. Most likely that will be the ship Lady Madeline and the boy will be on. The others will be decoys. Your brother will follow the second ship, and you will stay here and keep a watch on things.”
“Who will follow the third ship?” Alfred inquired. He was pleased he wouldn’t be following any ships. He didn’t want to be a part of harming Madeline or her family. He believed his father’s vendetta against the Cathcarts had gone too far.
“No one. It won’t matter. They will all meet at the same place eventually. It is the first ship that leaves which concerns me. That one will have Lady Madeline on it,” he replied absently as he pressed his handkerchief against his wound.
“Are you seriously planning on killing her?” Alfred regarded his father in shock. Madeline was a lady of high status. In Alfred’s opinion, killing her would be foolish, not to mention he thought her the most intriguing woman he had ever known. No woman had ever been brave enough to hit him for his advancements. He liked her spunk.
“No one shoots me and gets away with it. That girl became dead the moment she pulled the trigger,” he snarled with fury.
“She is a sweet girl, Father. I am sure she didn’t mean to shoot you,” Alfred said in defense of Madeline.
“Sweet, my ass. That girl is spoiled rotten. If she wasn’t such a lousy shot, I would be dead and she would be rejoicing. Don’t let her fool you, son. Madeline Cathcart is as tenacious as they come, and she will do whatever it takes to protect her family and friends,” Farrington grimaced. “I am her enemy now, and she won’t be happy until I am destroyed. She may not be a good shot, but she is influential and knows the right people. A few favors and a few words, and no one in England will have anything to do with me. She can strip me of my title, my lands, everything. Madeline Cathcart is a very dangerous woman and she needs to be eliminated.”
“I didn’t realize she was that powerful. She is only a woman after all,” Alfred responded weakly, his hopes of marrying her dashed with his father’s words.
“I didn’t either until I started asking about her. She is very influential at court and the prince favors her. I don’t know how she gained such power, but she has. People either hate her or love her. There is rarely an in-between.” He hated women like her. They were given power by incompetent men who were enamored by beauty and wealth. He curled his lip in contempt. Women had one purpose and that was for a man’s pleasure. It was the proper way of things.
“Then, by all means, we need to kill her,” Alfred agreed half-heartedly. He did not want his father to kill Lady Madeline. If he could stop his father, Alfred would. A woman as extraordinary as Lady Madeline shouldn’t be killed. Alfred knew he could never have her for himself. His father had just seen to that, but he couldn’t let her die either. He rather she become a valued friend and ally instead. Alfred would have to find a way to stop his father without him knowing that Alfred was the cause of his failure.
“Yes.” Farrington inspected his wound, barely paying attention to his son. If he had, he would have noticed the steely, determined glint in his son’s eyes.
“Let me get those bandages,” Alfred offered as he stood, needing to get away from his father.
“Hurry. I want to be ready to leave when they are,” Farrington directed his son harshly. Alfred nodded and left his father to retrieve the bandages.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Damon Spencer watched Brandon roam his spacious cabin aboard The Wayward Wind, the ship Damon had captained for nearly five years. He, Raven, and Conrad sat at a long table cluttered with charts and half-filled glasses of brandy which was located in the center of the cabin, waiting for Brandon to speak. As Brandon paced, he picked up various items around the cabin only to put them down again. Damon frowned. It wasn’t like his friend to fiddle with things. It was a sure sign that Brandon was very distraught, and in need of the solace, guidance, and friendship they could provide him. Damon, Raven, and Conrad watched their friend, knowing that Brandon would talk when he was ready.
Brandon picked up a book lying on Damon’s desk, flipped through the pages without seeing them, closed the book, laid it back down on the desk, and turned to his friends. “Madeline and Jeremy are not safe no matter where they go,” Brandon growled, aggravated by the situation. “If we stay in England, Madeline and Jeremy will not be safe, and if we leave, Farrington will follow us and he will try to kill them. Farrington is going to hunt them down regardless of what we do.”
&nb
sp; “Then we will make it more difficult for him by separating them,” Conrad stated coolly. “Raven and I will take Jeremy. Damon takes Madeline, and you follow Farrington. He is bound to follow one or both of us, as he has two ships available to him, but at some point, he will get tired of the chase and return to England. In the meantime, we play cat and mouse. Between the four of us, we should be able to protect Madeline and Jeremy.” Conrad signaled at Brandon to sit and frowned when he didn’t. “Brandon, leaving England is the best course of action to keep them protected and a way to distract Farrington with the hope of him making a fatal mistake, giving us the advantage.”
“What about Cassie and Max?” Raven inquired, wanting to know where they would be so he would know whether or not to worry about them. They were good at what they did even if it put them in danger from time to time, and as much as he hated putting them in danger, they were important to the Deliverance Society.
“I don’t want them involved,” Brandon declared firmly, continuing to pace around the room and ignoring Conrad’s subtle order to sit.
“Cassie knows Farrington better than anyone, Cat. She will know what he will do first,” Raven reminded.
“I don’t want her or Maxine in danger,” he exclaimed forcefully. He had enough to worry about, and he didn’t want to worry about the women any more than he had to. He wanted them safe.
“Brandon, Raven is right,” Conrad reprimanded. “With two more ships following Farrington, we have a better chance of watching him, perhaps even causing him to do something reckless. Where is Chameleon? She has a way of knowing events before they happen. She would be an asset.”
“She should be somewhere on the American seaboard. Last I spoke with her, she was making a run to Charleston. Although with Chameleon, you never know,” Raven answered dryly.
“Good.” Conrad nodded, pleased that Raven had a general idea where she was. He worried about her; indeed, he did. “We can meet up with her while we are in the West Indies. I can take Jeremy to my plantation and leave him there for the time being. Farrington wouldn’t dare try to follow us there. I don’t think he is going to go after the boy. He is going to go after Madeline and she is the one who will need our protection the most. After we get to the plantation, I will stay with the boy, and Raven will meet up with Damon in St. Thomas while Brandon, Cassie, and Maxine chase after Farrington. With three ships following him, we won’t lose track of him, and there is no way he can get to Madeline.”