Seducing the Ruthless Rogue

by Tammy Jo Burns

  “Eight o’clock.”

  Cassie attempted to hide the panic that washed over her. She had an hour to dress and get to the Tower.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” she said. “Just a little sad that reality has already intruded into our lives.”

  “Aye, but one thing will not change.”

  “And that is?”

  “That I love you. Cassie, I never thought it possible to fall in love, to trust another like I trust you. Not after being raised by Laird McKenzie. Then you came barreling into my life. Now, I can’t imagine my life without you.”

  “I love you, Mack.” He kissed her once more, leaving her breathless.

  “I’ll be home as soon as possible.”

  “Good.” Cassie remained relaxed on the bed, watching him leave the room. As soon as the door shut, she shot off the bed and rushed across the room. She tore open Mack’s dresser and pulled out a pair of his Cossack pants. She wiggled into them and tied the drawstring. If she ended up having to fight, she could do it much better in pants. Cassie then rushed into her room and found the easiest dress to slip into without assistance. She pulled on a pair of slippers. Then she picked up a handful of hairpins and stuffed them between her lips.

  Cassie retraced her steps, twisting her blonde hair into a knot and ruthlessly jabbed pins into the coiffure, securing it. Those pins she didn’t use, she removed from her lips and dropped on the top of her desk. She found herself digging through Mack’s drawers once more looking for anything that might help her cause. Cassie found a knife and scabbard tucked beneath a stack of his unmentionables and lifted her skirt, securing it to her thigh. She retrieved several cravats and knotted them together.

  She walked to the full glass doors that looked out over the small balcony enclosed by wrought iron railings that were waist high. The wind whipped at her hair, trying to rip it free as she crouched low. The storm last night had abated, but only for the time being. The clouds looked low and heavy as if they would drop buckets of rain at any moment. She tied the cravat tightly along the bottom of the railing, knotting it several times. Cassie threw her leg over the rail until she stood on the outside of it, and carefully lowered herself until she had a firm grip on the makeshift rope. She quickly lowered herself, landing between the hedge and the house. Looking around, she made certain no one was anywhere about before darting down the street.

  ***

  The meeting had just gotten underway when there was a disturbance in the outer office.

  “I must speak to Director McKenzie now!”

  “I’m sorry, Miss…”

  “Presley. Penelope Presley.”

  “Miss Presley, he is currently in a meeting.”

  “You don’t understand. This is about his wife and it is a matter of life or death!”

  Suddenly the inner door flew open and Mack stood in the doorway. “Come in, Miss Presley.”

  “Director McKenzie, your wife is in danger,” she said, but paused when she saw the men sitting around the large table that sat across from his desk, a giant map spread across the top.

  “Go on, Miss Presley.”

  “Director McKenzie, my sister is…is un…unstable,” she tripped over the words.

  “Preston, get Miss Presley something to drink,” Mack ordered.

  “Right away, sir.”

  “Now, you were saying you believe your sister is unstable.”

  “I found this,” she thrust a leather-bound book towards him.

  “And this is?” he asked, taking the book from her.

  “Her diary. She blames your wife for everything that has befallen us. She cannot see how our father was responsible. Whitney, that is my sister, believes she should take everything that matters from your wife.”

  “Sir Graham…”

  “Yes. She admits in her diary that she killed him. But she doesn’t stop there. She sees your marriage as something she will never be able to have now that word is getting out about what father did. It is bad enough that he committed suicide, but that he…”

  “I understand. And when I was nearly trampled by that carriage?”

  “Yes,” the young woman whispered, tears gathering in her eyes.

  “What is she planning?” Mack encouraged the young woman. Out of the corner of his eye, he noted that all the men at the table were also listening closely to every word the young woman said.

  “She wanted to kill you, to make her suffer, but she has written that you are too difficult to get near. You are constantly surrounded by important people, so she has decided to remove the one person she feels responsible for everything.”

  “Cassie.”

  “Yes. She mentions something about adding another animal to the number. She also writes your wife will ‘soar above London’. I just can’t figure out what she is talking about.”

  “When was the last time you saw your sister?”

  “Yesterday morning. She never came home last night.”

  “Gentlemen,” Mack said, looking at the group.

  “Director McKenzie, I’m so very sorry,” Penelope Presley said, fighting tears. “I’ll be praying for your wife.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I’m coming with you,” Gabriel said, as did several of the other men.

  Mack nodded his head and left the office. He raced down the stairs with Gabe fast on his heels. Other booted feet clomped behind them. Both men went to the mews and readied their respective horses.

  “It’s a good thing I talked you into going to Tattersalls that day. Imagine how slow a hack would be,” Gabe shouted over the wind, trying to lighten the mood.

  Mack glared at his brother over their horses.

  “Right, poor taste. Just trying to keep you calm.”

  “I’ll calm down when I have Cassie in my arms again.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “I don’t know. Perhaps I should stop by the house.” At that moment, Mack heard the clopping of horse’s hooves approaching at a dangerous speed.

  “McKenzie,” Bartlett called racing towards them.

  “What is it, man?”

  “Mrs. McKenzie has escaped, and we found this. Chilton said it arrived yesterday.” He passed the note to Mack. “It was attached to a box containing a dead rat.”

  “Bloody hell,” Mack said gravely.

  “Where are we going?” Gabe queried.

  “The Tower of London,” Mack answered.

  The men mounted their horses and rode through the streets of London, weaving among the street traffic and receiving irate shouts. Clouds hung low over the city, blocking out any attempt from the sun to break through. The sky looked ominous and soon they were lit from within with lightning, and thunder rumbled deeply. Fat drops of rain fell intermittently, teasing the people below, making them wonder if a deluge would burst upon them or not.

  As Mack and Gabe approached the Tower of London, they could see a mob gathering and pointing upwards. Mack took a moment to see four people on the parapets of the castle. From where he was, it was difficult to make out the individual figures. They saw someone perched upon the parapet.

  “No!” Mack shouted, but wind ripped the words away from his mouth and carried them away. His heart plummeted along with the person.

  Chapter 29

  “Mrs. McKenzie,” a feminine voice called.

  Cassie turned in the direction of the voice. A beautiful young woman waved at her, a sinister looking smile spread across her face. Could this woman be the one that had turned her life upside down? She cautiously approached, thinking the woman looked familiar somehow. Perhaps they had both been at Mikala’s ball or the Bathurst party.

  “Don’t I know you?” Cassie asked the woman.

  “I am Miss Whitney Presley.”

  “Presley?” Cassie’s brow furrowed as she attempted to put the name and face together. When she did, her eyebrows shot upwards to her hairline. “Your father…” Cassie broke off and tried to take a step backwards. Instead she b
umped into not one, but two beefy bodies. She felt something cylindrical press into both her sides and knew right away they were guns.

  “Mrs. McKenzie, your presence is requested on the parapets,” Miss Presley said. The wind was picking up and whipped both women’s dresses about. “And please do not try anything, or we will have to draw attention to ourselves long before we want. Follow me,” she ordered.

  Cassie felt the gun barrels push heavily into her sides when she failed to move right away. Her independent streak wanted to use every move Chang ever taught her and some he had not. Common sense urged her to err on the side of caution and realize she could not fight all three of them at the same time. Even when she had fought Mack and Bartlett all those months ago, she had disabled first one then the other. No, if she was going to have any chance of getting out of this alive, she had to bide her time and do as they say.

  They entered the tower and purchased passes for viewing the Menagerie. The quartet mingled with the crowd, but broke off from the group upon reaching a side door. Once they went through the door, Cassie realized they were in some sort of passageway.

  “Been here before?” Cassie asked

  “I enjoy watching them feed the lions. They get in such a frenzy. It’s quite exciting. The way they rip the meat apart. The way they fight each other over that last little morsel.” She paused in her speech as they rounded a corner in the passage. “What was your question again?”

  “Have you been here before?” Cassie asked. She wished she were not encumbered by the skirt and wore only the pants from her waist down. It would be much easier maneuvering these steep steps.

  “Oh, yes. Since I frequent here so often, I have become quite good friends with some of the keepers. They have introduced me to some of these hidden passages.” The group kept winding up and up until they finally reached a second door. When Whitney Presley opened it, the wind gusted at them, ripping the door out of her hand and slamming it against the wall with a loud crash. “Don’t be afraid,” she yelled over the wind. “Follow me!”

  Once again, the guns prodded Cassie along. They were out on the wall, and the wind was so much worse up here than it had been on the ground. Cassie kept her focus on the woman in front of her. She had not yet produced a weapon, but that didn’t mean she did not have one.

  “Isn’t it gorgeous up here, Mrs. McKenzie? Look around you. The last thing you will see is all of London at your feet.”

  “Why, Whitney? Why are you doing this to me?”

  “Do not call me Whitney. To you I am Lady Whitney. Do you understand?” The girl approached her and slapped her across the cheek.

  “Yes, Lady Whitney,” she agreed meekly. “Why are you doing this, Lady Whitney?” She asked sarcastically emphasizing the title. This time the blow came to the other cheek. The girl used the back of her hand and Cassie could feel the sting from where her ring had cut her. Cassie reached up and her fingertips came away with blood on them.

  “Don’t be impertinent. You know very well why I am doing this.”

  “I truly don’t,” Cassie shook her head negatively.

  “Whitney, love, just tell her,” the man to Cassie’s right said.

  “Robert, I don’t recall asking your advice.”

  “This doesn’t feel right, Whitney. Let’s just be done with it. We can be on a ship for America by sunset.”

  “Adam,” Whitney said. The girl did not blink an eye when the gunshot sounded.

  Cassie jumped and ducked. She threw her arms up protectively around her head. She looked behind her and saw a crumpled form on the ground, blood flowed from a wound in the man’s temple. His open-eyed stare reminded her of the dead rat she had received just yesterday from this crazed young woman.

  “Give me his gun and get rid of him.”

  The man she called Adam, did as he was told. Now Whitney held the gun on Cassie. Cassie could hear the man’s boots scrape across the stone as Adam drug Robert’s lifeless body to the edge and perched him on the parapet before pushing him over. She heard the faint sounds of screams. Cassie squeezed her eyes shut and prayed she could not hear the thud when he landed at the bottom. Thankfully a boom of thunder sounded, covering up anything else that might have been heard this high up.

  “You want to know why I’m doing this? Why I killed your father? Why I attempted to kill your husband?” Whitney kept a hold of the gun, and Adam moved back behind Cassie, empty handed. Not great odds, but much better than they were previously.

  “Yes.”

  “Because of your father, my family lost everything.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “When my father killed himself that day in the park, it signaled more than the end of his life. His suicide and his act of treason and the kidnapping of your father signaled the end of my family’s good name. For generations to come we will always be whispered and talked about. We will always be known as the treasonous family. Our name is poison among society. We will not have the fortune we should have. I will not be able to marry as I should have. Oh, I have been offered a marriage…to a man they call the ‘Beast of Yorkshire’. Can you imagine what he must be like?”

  “Your father ruined your future, Whitney. He spent your family’s money, but you have a chance at happiness,” Cassie offered.

  “I’ll show you what will make me happy!”

  Something in the other woman’s look gave Cassie the warning she needed. She tangled her foot with the man’s who stood behind her and spun him around, catching him off guard. Cassie felt the man jolt when the bullet made impact with his body. She let him go and he slid to the stone floor of the roof.

  “Adam!” Whitney screamed in agony.

  Cassie didn’t wait to look, she ran towards the open door, leading to the staircase. She was almost there when something, or rather someone, hit her in the back knocking her to the floor. Whitney straddled her back and entwined her fingers firmly in Cassie’s hair. Cassie felt her head pulled back once and slammed forward into the unforgiving stone. Stars sparkled in her vision. When the woman began pulling her head back for a second blow, Cassie pushed herself up and braced herself, stopping the downward thrust.

  “Stop!” Cassie yelled.

  “What?” Whitney leaned down.

  Cassie took the opportunity she had hoped for and slammed her head backwards into Whitney’s face. The woman screamed, loosening her hold on Cassie. Cassie pulled up her skirt, reached for the knife, and began cutting away the fabric. The only thing that warned her of the oncoming attack was a low growl that she barely heard over the wind. She felt herself thrown backwards and the knife went skittering across the roof, far from either one of them.

  ***

  Mack and Gabe raced to where the body had landed. When they realized it was an unfamiliar man they ran to the Tower entrance, pushing people out of their way. The intermittent drops of rain had become more steady. They raced inside and continued to shove their way past people. A man who looked officially attached to The Tower halted their progress.

  “Here now, what do you think you two are doing? We’ll have order here.”

  “We have to get up to the roof!” Mack yelled.

  “No one goes up there. You just hie yourself off now, guv’nor.”

  “I am the Director of the War Office, and I need to get up on the roof.”

  “And I’m the bloody King of England.”

  Mack grabbed the man’s lapels and slammed him into the nearest wall. “I don’t care if you believe me or not, but my wife is up on the roof being held hostage by a madwoman. One man has already been shot and thrown off, meeting his death. Now you will tell me how to get up there, or I will gun you down myself here and now.”

  “I am the Duke of Hawkescliffe, and I can vouch for this man. I would do as he says.”

  The man pointed to his side at a door hidden in the shadows, a belligerent look on his face. Mack released him, as if he carried a dreaded disease that he wanted no part of. The two men tore open the door and climbe
d the steps as quickly as possible. The door leading to the roof hung open, repeatedly slamming into the stone wall. Mack stepped out on the roof in time to see a blonde head sink below the stone. A pair of arms lost their grip and slid across the lower part of the stone parapet. The hands attached were formed like claws, desperately seeking anything to hold.

  ***

  The falling rain made the stones slick, impeding Cassie’s fight for survival. Her lessons she had with Chang should have made this second nature to her, but this was a life and death struggle. Even when fighting with Mack and Bartlett, she had known they would not kill her, but Whitney was insane, and one didn’t know what she might do.

  Cassie turned in her defensive fighting stance and came nose to barrel with a gun. She quickly scanned the roof without turning her head. There was a gun to her left. The knife was in the far corner. And over by the parapet was…

  “Yes, I had my own gun. You didn’t think I would be so stupid as to not bring something? One can just not rely on a man for protection these days, can they, Mrs. McKenzie?

  “You killed my father, aren’t we even?” Cassie demanded, her voice husky with unshed tears. She and Mack had only just realized their love for one another. Were they to lose that now?

  “Even?” She laughed hysterically. “I refuse to marry the ‘Beast of Yorkshire’ and succumb to his cruelty. There are rumors he has killed not one, or two, but three wives. I refuse to be the fourth. It seems if I don’t marry him, I can have no one. So it is really quite simple, my life is ruined, I am going to ruin yours. Mayhap I can comfort your husband in his time of sorrow. ‘The Scottish Bastard,’ isn’t that what they call him? Yes, I think he will do just fine.”

  Anger suffused Cassie, and that was her mistake. She attacked Whitney, who stepped aside causing Cassie to lose her balance. She windmilled trying to right herself, but slipped over the ledge. She twisted just in time to hook her arms on the rock that was growing more wet and slick by the moment. Whitney bent down and tried to pry her fingers up, but Cassie held fast and refused to give up on this life.

  “Let go, you bitch!” Whitney yelled. She lifted the butt of the gun and started to bring it down on of Cassie’s hands. Cassie knew this was her only chance and she had to act quickly. As Whitney brought the butt of the gun down, Cassie let go of the wall with one hand and grabbed the woman’s wrist, tugging on her. The move caught Whitney off guard enough that she went flying over Cassie.