Questions for a Highlander

by Angeline Fortin

  The town meant traffic and traffic meant they would have to slow. She could call for help. Surely someone would hear her. But would they assist her? People became notoriously blind and deaf when faced with violence. Better to ignore a cry for help than risk their own safety.

  The droning of William’s voice caught her attention and she turned back to him. “What did you say?” She hadn’t even realized he had answered her question.

  “I have bounty hunters from China tailing me and need access to funds, beyond the paltry amount of I have available, to bribe them into calling off their pursuit,” he repeated angrily. “Because of your actions, I cannot even access the monies of the estate since I have been declared dead! It might take years to regain my position so I need you to get it for me!”

  “You stole the vase back?” she asked in amazement, ignoring the bile he was spewing. “Even after you were put in jail for a year, you still stole the vase before you got away?”

  “Of course I took the vase, and another as well, in fact,” he snapped irritably. “I didn’t spend all that time there for nothing.”

  “Incredible!” She blinked in disbelief, shaking her head. “I thought many things about you, William, but I never took you for an utter imbecile!”

  Shaftesbury’s hand flew out and slapped her, throwing her into the side of the window. Groaning against the window frame, Eve saw the buildings of Edinburgh’s government district racing by. As the courts flew by in a blur, Eve gasped at the realization that she knew where they were. And if the courts were near…! She wondered if William had any idea.

  She turned to see him glaring at her and her mind raced. “You were never one for violence, William. Time has changed you.”

  “I told you prison had done that. It changes one’s priorities.”

  Eve eyed the pistol loose in his lap and scrambled for an idea, anything to get out of the carriage quickly before they had gone too far. Her eyes narrowed mockingly. “Oh,” she drawled, “they couldn’t have changed too much if you hadn’t thought to just give back the vase. Truly, what sort of dolt trades his own life for a piece of pottery? Only the stupidest bastard…”

  His hand snapped out again and even though Eve was expecting it, the pain still dulled her senses for a moment. But as she was flung against the side of the carriage once more, she recalled her wits enough to grab the handle of the carriage door and jerk it down. Her weight pushed against the portal as it flung it open and she rolled through the opening. Tensing against the anticipation of more pain, she wasn’t disappointed as she landed on the cobbled road on her back, scraping her hands and arms in an attempt to protect herself against the oncoming traffic when a wagon passed near her head.

  Fighting the pain, Eve forced herself to her feet, desperately trying to untangle her skirts even as she heard William call for the carriage to halt. Scrambling to gain her footing, she started forward and cried out against the shooting pain that raced through her hip. Forcing herself to run, she turned back up the street toward the police station they had passed a couple of streets back.

  As she heard footsteps pounding behind her, adrenaline and panic fed her allowing her to forget the pain as she fled like a startled rabbit. Picking up her skirts, she ran full out as she had as a child in Newport, gaining speed as she went, but still she heard him behind her. Her long legs flashed out beneath her skirts, her pink silk stockings drawing whistles before onlookers realized what was going on. “Help!” she screamed breathlessly as she ran. “Somebody please help me!”

  “Hey there, man!” she heard someone shout behind her. “Leave that lady alone!” A quick glance over her shoulder showed two men in suits trying to detain William on her behalf. Lawyers most likely, they would not be able to hold him for long. Turning her attention back to her flight, Eve focused on the road in front of her even as a shot sounded behind her. Fearing for the lives of her saviors, Eve glanced back again to find the two men now held motionless by the gun in William’s left hand, but in his right was another, pointed directly at her.

  “Stop, Evelyn!” he shouted but Eve turned her back and continued running. He had a pair of guns? she gasped in disbelief. Another shot rang out and the crowd in front of her cowered with cries of surprise and terror, as a bullet hit a lamp post to her right. Every instinct in her body urged Eve to drop down and cover her head like everyone else, but she denied herself as she saw her destination a few buildings ahead, even as the pounding feet behind her grew in volume. He would not shoot her, she tried to reassure herself. He just said that he needed her alive.

  A few steps from the police station, she recognized the man exiting the doors as one of the agents who had come for Francis that morning. The one who had wanted to put Francis in shackles. “You… you… oh, blast it, the killer, the real killer is chasing me!” she flung her arm back, pointing the way. “Help me!” she pleaded.

  The detective took in her dishabille and cast a skeptical glance, ready to dismiss her, before he recognized her. “Lady Shaftesbury?”

  The man’s gaze darted past her and his brows shot up in surprise, but rather than ensure her safety he only frowned and raised his hands in the air. Dismayed, Eve turned to find William not twenty feet away, pointing a pistol at the man.

  “Stop right there, Evelyn,” William gasped catching his breath as Eve inched toward the entrance of the building. “You have only delayed the inevitable, my dear. Now let’s go.”

  Eve eyed the pistol directed at her, aware that the detective stood frozen in the face of the armed man before them. Did William not realize where he was or was he so completely crazed he didn’t care? What kind of insanity was it for him to think this was a good idea? “Look around you, William. Do you not realize where we are?” she tried to reason with him.

  Shaftesbury looked up at the building for the first time and a frown creased his brow. “It matters not. I am armed and they are not. Come, let’s go now.”

  “Are you mad?” she gaped in amazement. “You cannot just kidnap me in front of a police station!”

  “Lady Shaftesbury,” Shaw whispered urgently, fearfully eyeing the man who held him at gunpoint, sensing the villain wouldn’t hesitate to pull the trigger. “What is going on here? Who is he?”

  “This madman is the murderer…”

  Shaftesbury’s hand whipped out again and the butt of the pistol caught her with a glancing blow. Raising a hand to the wound, Eve wavered where she stood.

  “Now see here!” Shaw protested, lowering his hands instinctively in defense of an injured lady. “You can’t treat a lady like –” A shot sounded and Shaw fell to the ground, clutching his shoulder in surprise.

  Aghast, Eve turned to see William shrug carelessly. He had just shot a man without second thought. Clearly he was beyond prediction or expectation. She felt the fear snake back up her spine when he uttered absently, “How tiring. Come now, Evelyn.” He waved the gun, indicating she should precede him. “Let’s move on, shall we?”

  “You won’t shoot me, William. Remember? You need me,” she told him with false bravado since it was clear she had no idea what William was capable of any longer.

  “That is true, but it will not stop me from shooting the good people here if you resist.” He indicated the people huddled against the building or standing across the street, staring at the scene with morbid fascination. “How about her?” he asked, motioning to a young woman crouched in the alley hugging a young girl to her. “Or him?” This one an adolescent boy protecting an older woman behind him.

  He moved the gun back and forth and Eve’s shoulders slumped in defeat, knowing he wouldn’t hesitate to shoot another unarmed innocent who stood between him and his goals. “Stop it, William. I will come.”

  “Peaceably?”

  “Yes, let us just go.”

  Eve marched back up the street as he followed rotating from side to side with a pistol in each hand to keep any would-be heroes at bay. There was no hope at all. Shaw was collapsed directly in front of t
he doors of the police station. His unconscious body now prevented the door from opening, though the rocking of his body indicated someone was trying to push him out of the way.

  The carriage circled back around and now waited for them at the corner. In the driver’s seat she recognized Wilkes, Shaftesbury’s long-time valet, at the reins. She hadn’t seen him since she had fired him a year before. He looked very pleased to see her back under William’s thumb.

  To her surprise, the carriage passed only a few more streets before stopping in front of a neat boardinghouse. Eve knew most of these were rented to single barristers and others who worked the courts. So he hadn’t been at a hotel at all! Little wonder they had failed to locate him! Dragging her from the carriage, William urged her inside, making certain to maintain a discreet entrance in the quiet neighborhood. He said nothing as he escorted her up two sets of stairs and into his small apartments.

  “Hardly up to your usual standards, William,” she bit out nastily, still nursing the sting from the blows to her head and cheek. She weakly took a seat in the chair he indicated and leaned back wearily. Adrenaline depleted, Eve was left exhausted and pinched by her corset after her run. The fight drained from her.

  “I have had to make do with Wilkes’ pitiful savings,” he replied peevishly, moving to a cupboard from which he pulled a small flask of Irish whiskey and, uncorking it, took a long pull.

  “So what now, William?” she asked after five minutes of silence had passed, where Shaftesbury had checked his watch and the window repeatedly. She rose and paced the room as his growing agitation filtered into her. “They’ll be coming for you. It won’t take them long to find you now, you know. There will be a dozen witnesses to point the way.”

  “Wilkes is obtaining train tickets as we speak. We should be out of Edinburgh within the hour,” he told her as he took another drink.

  “Not quickly enough, I think.” He growled at her but Eve ignored him as she cast about for escape. There was no chance she was going to board a train that would take her away from Laurie and Francis. She would fight him with everything she had at that point and damn the consequences. If he managed to get her back home, there would be nothing she could do to save herself from him.

  Watching him tip the bottle up again, Eve thought of running for the door but quickly realized it would be useless. She was done in from her first run. Her legs felt weak and wobbly under her skirts already and not capable of another flight, especially not one down several flights of stairs. A lady in a corset was caged in so many ways.

  She wandered the small room, aware that her husband kept a pistol casually pointed in her direction as he checked his watch impatiently and went to the window, cursing under his breath.

  Trying to think of another way of escape, Eve came upon a crate containing two pieces of pottery packed in straw, so exquisite that they could only be the Ming vases William had stolen. She pulled one from the straw and held it up to the light. It was breathtaking, but hardly worth risking one’s life for.

  “Be careful with that!” her husband bellowed, spitting his liquor onto the floor.

  “You would really kill people to keep this, William?”

  “Let me think…” he drawled sarcastically as he snatched the vase back and packed it into the crate. “Yes! Of course.”

  And he already had. There was apparently nothing he would stop at to have his way with this insanity.

  The room fell quiet while Eve contemplated her situation and Shaftesbury his liquor. When the normal sounds of the streets were overridden by the sound of footfalls on the floors below, Eve’s attention turned to the activity. Voices shouted out below. Then footsteps clamored up the stairs to their floor.

  “They're coming for you, William,” she taunted softly. “Whatever will you do now?”

  “Impossible! How could they have found us so quickly?” Shaftesbury threw open the windows and peered down, accessing the distance and, Eve assumed, the possibility of jumping. “Damn! Where is Wilkes?”

  Doors in the adjacent apartments down the hall were pounded on as the activity grew closer. “Police! Open please!” A voice rang out hollowly through the walls. There was no further sound but Eve knew that William was anticipating the knock on his door next when he leveled one pistol at the door.

  “William!” she protested. “You don’t dare!”

  “Shut your mouth, Evelyn!” he hissed. He cocked the revolver. The click of the lever rang ominously in the quiet of the room. “There is nothing left to do!”

  A minute passed.

  The pounding, when it came, gave Eve a start. “Open the door, Shaftesbury! We know you’re in there!”

  “Francis?” she gasped in surprise when the voice registered.

  William’s head whipped around when he heard her. “So your erstwhile lover has come to your rescue, hmm? This should be interesting.” He turned his attention back to the door as the knob started to turn and the door swung in slowly.

  “Francis, get back!” she yelled as William squeezed the trigger and Francis dodged around the door jam.

  “Eden? What are you doing in there?” Francis shouted. “I’ve got to say I don’t mind ducking when I’m being shot at but I think you owe me an explanation.”

  “I will be happy to give you one soon, but I think you owe me one as well,” she called back as her husband glared at her.

  “Back away, Glenrothes,” William warned. “I will shoot her I promise you, I have nothing to lose now.”

  Francis leaned back against the wall and tried to gauge Shaftesbury’s position within the room. When the underling detective Shaw had been shot in front of the police station, Francis had been taking tea with Gerald Thompson while his bobbies were making inquiries about town in search of Shaftesbury.

  The senior detective had struck Glenrothes as a reasonable man, as he had told the others, and upon reaching the station, Francis had taken a risk on his intelligence and discretion by revealing the truth of the entire matter. From the truth of Shaftesbury’s death and resurrection to his engagement to Eve, her history, to the relationship between Shaftesbury and Vanessa and all the events of the past week including the threats Eve had received from her former husband.

  Thompson had considered the matter carefully before admitting he saw the logic in the earl’s observations and sent a pair of bobbies to the hotel where the countess had died, to question the staff once again. Searching the area, they had found Vanessa’s missing maid and matched her description of her mistress’s mystery man to Shaftesbury. More officers were sent out in search of the suspect.

  While awaiting further information, Glenrothes and Thompson had speculated on the murderer’s motives, but came to the conclusion that revenge would certainly be among them. While they had taken their tea, they had heard the shots fired outside but it had taken several vital moments to clear the front door. Shaw had regained consciousness when they pulled him inside and had given them sufficient information with which Francis, accompanied by Thompson and two other detectives, had been able to question enough witnesses to trail Eve and Shaftesbury to this location. They had met with Richard, James, Jack and a half-dozen of their footmen along the way. They had trailed Eve’s abduction from Moray Place.

  A floor to floor search had brought him and Thompson here.

  He could hardly comprehend that Eve had been so close to him, running away from this bastard, running to him for help and he had failed to protect her. It would not happen again. It would be Shaftesbury’s life or his. That was all there was to it.

  “Shaftesbury!” he yelled. A shot hit across the hall from Francis and sprayed plaster in every direction. Glenrothes waved Thompson back as he raced back from the rooms he was checking down the hall. The detective came stealthily forward until he was at MacKintosh’s side.

  “I take it you’ve found the fellow?” Thompson asked unnecessarily as James and Jack raced around the corner as well.

  The earl nodded and whispered, “He has Ev… La
dy Shaftesbury.” Francis leaned against the wall, worry flooding him and couldn’t resist calling, “Eden, are you all right?”

  “I’m fine, Francis,” she answered but a sharp slap and a cry followed and Francis growled low in his throat, turning to race blindly into the room before James pulled him back. “Caution, Francis,” he whispered. “He might have back up in there!”

  His bodied quivered with the need to act. “I need to do something, anything! What do we do?”

  “He has her hostage. We need to negotiate his demands,” Thompson said sensibly.

  Francis sighed and leaned his head back against the wall. “You’re right. That’s the sensible thing to do, but bugger me, I’m not feeling too sensible right now.” He shrugged quickly out of his jacket. “Are you with me on this?”

  “With you?” Thompson repeated in confusion. “Oh, aye, of course.”

  And with a grating battle cry, Francis charged into the room.

  Chapter 47

  Eve could easily see William was on the verge of another murder and Francis was his intended victim. His usually pale eyes were dark and wild as he visually searched the room for inspiration or escape, she did not know. Fear streaked through her for Francis. While she knew without doubt he was physically capable of defeating William in normal circumstances, she wasn’t sure he could as easily conquer an opponent driven by desperation and lost to honorable combat.

  Following her husband’s example, Eve was looking around the room trying to identify anything that might allow her to help Francis, when a terrifying cry echoed through the room. Francis charged in low, rushing at William so quickly that he had little chance to react. Francis’ momentum threw them both against the wall and it seemed to Eve that the entire building shuddered at the impact. Pulling back, Glenrothes lifted Shaftesbury by his lapels even as the smaller man jerked his arm up still holding the Colt revolver, but the shot went awry when Francis struck at his arm. Drawing back, the Scot struck again with a brutal blow to the other man’s midsection followed by an upper cut to his chin. With an angry grunt, William hit Francis on the side of the head with the weapon he still held in his hand. On the recoil from the blow, he fumbled to pull back the trigger so he might fire again.