by Beers, Laura
“Let Jane go free, and I won’t shoot you.”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” Kerley said. “She’s heard too much and is a part of this now.”
Lord Evan cocked his pistol. “Then you’ll die.”
“A part of me already died in that French prison,” Kerley confessed. “Now it’s your turn.” He turned towards the guards. “Shoot them.”
A shot echoed throughout the hall, and Jane watched a guard drop to the ground, dead. It was promptly followed by another shot and a second guard was hit.
“Blasted Runner,” Lord Evan muttered under his breath.
The lone guard pointed his pistol towards the doorway where the shots had come from, a panicked look on his face. Only a moment later, another shot was fired, killing him.
“Sorry!” a male’s voice shouted through the doorway.
Lord Evan stood tall. “Now it is over, Kerley!”
Rather than respond, Kerley spun on his heel and ran from the room. Lord Evan turned towards Jane. “Stay here. I need to go after him.”
“I want to go with you.”
He frowned as he glanced over his shoulder. “It’s dangerous.”
“I don’t care.”
He must have realized she would follow him anyway. He reached down to his boot, pulled out a muff pistol, and extended it towards her. Then, he reached for her other hand, muttering something about his stupidity in arming such stubbornness.
Together, they raced from the main hall and up the stairs after Kerley. They arrived on the roof and saw Kerley standing near the edge, the pistol tucked against his side.
“Step away from there,” Lord Evan ordered as he pointed his pistol at him.
Kerley looked at him blankly. “We both know my fate if you arrest me, and I refuse to have my hanging be a public spectacle.”
“You did murder Hannity and Miss Polly, and are guilty of forging banknotes,” Lord Evan said. “All of those crimes are punishable by death.”
“What of you?” Kerley asked. “You may as well have killed me the day you left me in France.”
“There is not a day that goes by that I don’t regret that choice,” Lord Evan said. “We saw you were slashed and shot and assumed you were dead.”
“You were wrong!” Kerley exclaimed. “You left me!”
Lord Evan took a step closer and lowered his pistol. “I know, and I was wrong. But you must allow me to make this up to you.”
“How could you possibly do that?”
“I don’t know, but we could come up with a solution together.”
Kerley took a small step back, his heels hanging over the edge of the roof. “It’s too late for me. I’m a dead man, one way or another.”
“I refuse to accept that.”
“After everything I did, you’d still help me?” Kerley asked skeptically. “Why?”
Lord Evan tucked his pistol into the waistband of his trousers. “You and I were friends once, and I failed you,” he said. “I won’t fail you again. I promise.”
Kerley laughed loudly. “All I did in that French cell was plot my revenge, and now you’re asking for my forgiveness?” He brought his pistol up. “I should kill you.”
“I won’t stop you,” Lord Evan said resignedly. “We both know I deserve it.”
Kerley stared at him for a long moment, indecision crossing his face. “You would just let me shoot you?”
“I would.”
A smirk came to his face. “You are an even bigger fool than I thought.”
Knowing she couldn’t stand by and watch Corbyn being shot, Jane raised her muff pistol and shot at Kerley, hitting him in the center of the chest. Kerley looked at her in surprise as he stumbled backwards and fell off the building.
Lord Evan rushed over to the edge of the roof and looked down towards the street. After a moment, he turned solemnly towards Jane. “Don’t come any closer,” he ordered. “This is not something you should see.”
She nodded her head in response, unsure of what she should say at this moment.
“Jane,” Lord Evan said as he came towards her, “are you all right?”
“I am,” she replied, pleased that she’d found her voice.
“Did he hurt you in any way?”
She shook her head. “He did not.”
Lord Evan was clearly relieved. “I’m happy to hear that,” he said, stopping in front of her. “But I am sorry that you were forced to kill Kerley.”
“I couldn’t just stand by and let him shoot you.”
“You saved my life, Jane.”
A playful smile came to her lips. “I think it was only fair, since you have saved me on multiple occasions.”
The sound of pounding boots was heard before Baldwin and Oliver appeared at the top of the steps.
They both ran to Jane and firmly embraced her. “So, you both are spies?” she asked after they stepped back.
Baldwin and Oliver turned stunned expressions towards Lord Evan.
Lord Evan put his hands up in front of him. “I didn’t tell her,” he defended. “Kerley did.”
“We can explain,” the brothers said in unison.
Jane laughed. “Do Madalene and Emmeline know?”
“They do,” Baldwin replied, wincing.
“Does Mother know?” she asked.
Oliver shook his head. “No, she doesn’t.”
“I see,” Jane murmured. “I think it might be time that you told her.”
Baldwin gave her a curious look. “May I ask why you have a muff pistol in your hand?”
“I needed it to save Lord Evan’s life,” she replied.
Her brothers turned their stunned expressions towards Corbyn. “Is she telling the truth?” Baldwin asked.
Lord Evan nodded. “She is,” he responded. “Jane saved my life.”
“I’m impressed, Sister,” Oliver remarked. “I didn’t even realize you knew how to use a muff pistol.”
“Madalene taught me how to use one,” Jane shared.
“She did?” Baldwin asked with a lifted brow.
Jane smiled. “You will find that I am not the useless girl that you believe me to be.”
Baldwin wiped his hand over his face. “I believe I may have underestimated you.”
The Bow Street Runner she had seen with Lord Evan in Hyde Park stepped onto the roof and addressed Lord Evan. “Your agents have secured the building,” he said, “and I ensured that Sanders was bound and gagged before handing him over to them.”
“Thank you, Stewart,” Lord Evan replied. “May I ask what happened with the delay of your shot at the guard?”
Stewart gave him a sheepish look. “I wasn’t in a good position, and I had to quickly relocate to a better one,” he admitted. “I didn’t want to take a chance that I might miss.”
Lord Evan stepped closer to him and extended his hand. “I would be honored if you would consider becoming an agent of the Crown.”
“You want me to be a spy?” Stewart asked.
Lord Evan nodded. “You may require some extensive training, but I think you would be a good fit for our agency.”
A bright smile came to Stewart’s face as he shook Lord Evan’s hand. “Is the pay better?”
Lord Evan chuckled. “No, the pay is horrible.”
“I’ll do it,” Stewart replied.
Baldwin shook his head. “I never thought I would see the day that Corbyn accepted a Bow Street Runner in our ranks.”
“Nor I,” Oliver concurred.
Jane arched an eyebrow. “Why is that?”
“Because Corbyn hates Bow Street Runners,” Oliver shared, smiling.
Baldwin placed his hand on her shoulder. “We should get you home,” he said. “I have no doubt that Mother is beside herself with worry.”
“That would be for the best,” Jane agreed.
Lord Evan met her gaze. “Would it be possible for me to call upon you tomorrow?” His next words rushed out. “Just to ensure you are all right.”
&nb
sp; She offered him a timid smile. “I am amenable to that.”
“Wonderful,” Lord Evan declared. “Would you care for me to escort you to your coach?”
Baldwin interjected, “Oliver and I will see to that.”
“Quite right,” Lord Evan said. “I suppose that would be for the best. I need to control the situation before the constable shows up and ruins everything.”
Stewart walked to the edge of the building and glanced over. “You may want to hurry. A large crowd has assembled around Kerley’s body.”
“How distasteful,” Jane murmured. “I have never understood the fascination of gawking at a dead body.”
“Nor I,” Lord Evan agreed.
Baldwin offered his arm. “Shall we?” he asked. “I would prefer it if we departed before anyone notices us.”
“I couldn’t even imagine what the gossips would say if they caught wind that we were here,” Jane commented.
“Precisely my point,” Baldwin remarked. “Reputations have been ruined for much less.”
Jane glanced over at Lord Evan and caught him staring unabashedly at her. “Goodbye, Lord Evan,” she said, her cheeks growing warm.
Lord Evan bowed stiffly. “Until tomorrow, my dear.”
Chapter Nineteen
The sun had just peeked over the horizon as Corbyn sat in his office and wrote up his report to Lord Daniel. He had a hard time focusing on the task at hand because his mind kept wandering towards Jane. He was counting down the moments until he could see her again, and to ensure she was unharmed by the recent events.
The door opened and Lord Daniel stepped into the room. “Did you have to kill Kerley?” he asked bluntly.
“I didn’t kill Kerley,” Corbyn said. “Lady Jane shot him in the chest, and he fell to his death.”
“Why didn’t you stop her?”
“I wasn’t given the chance.”
Lord Daniel sighed. “I suppose we should be thankful that we didn’t have to take this case to trial,” he said.
“As am I,” Corbyn agreed. “I am almost finished with your report, sir.”
“Excellent,” Lord Daniel responded. “I have no doubt the Home Secretary will be interested in reading it, as well.”
“I assumed as much.”
Lord Daniel frowned. “I’m sorry to hear about Sanders.”
“As am I,” Corbyn said. “I was surprised that he was turned so easily.”
“He’s not the first person to have his head turned by the promise of a fortune,” Lord Daniel stated.
“That is true.”
Lord Daniel tapped the desk with his finger. “You have earned a few days off.”
“I’m afraid I don’t have time for that.”
“Of course you don’t,” Lord Daniel said in an amused voice. “But I encourage you to make time for it.”
“Perhaps another time.”
Lord Daniel chuckled. “I knew hiring you was the right call. I have never met anyone who works harder than you.”
“I will take that as a compliment.”
“You should,” Lord Daniel replied. “It was meant as one.”
“Thank you.”
Lord Daniel walked over to the door and stopped. “Just don’t let life pass you by too quickly, Corbyn,” he advised. “You deserve to have a life outside of this office.”
“I believe I’ve found one, sir.”
“That is good to hear, and I hope that Lady Jane will make you very happy.”
Corbyn stared at him. “How did you know I was referring to Lady Jane?”
Lord Daniel smirked. “You are not the only one who uses deductive reasoning,” he said before leaving.
Corbyn returned to his work and finished the report in short order. Once he folded the paper, he decided he needed to go on one errand before he called on Jane.
He left the building and hailed a hackney. It wasn’t long before he arrived at his family’s townhouse. He exited the coach and extended a few coins to the driver.
As he approached the main door, it was opened, and Mott greeted him as he stepped into the entry hall.
“Good morning, milord.”
“Good morning,” Corbyn replied as he handed him his top hat and gloves. “Is my mother awake?”
“Yes, she is,” Mott confirmed. “She decided to take breakfast with His Grace.”
“Excellent. I shall go see them at once.”
The butler tipped his head. “Very good, milord.”
As Corbyn started across the entry hall, his brother stepped out from one of the rooms.
“If it isn’t the prodigal son,” Simon mocked.
Corbyn stopped in front of his brother. “I see you aren’t drunk this morning,” he said. “That’s a good sign.”
Simon frowned. “What are you doing here?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” he asked. “I’m here to see Father.”
“That’s nice of you,” Simon muttered.
Corbyn eyed his brother curiously. “Whatever’s the matter with you?”
“It’s Beatrice,” Simon replied. “Now that Catherine has moved out of the townhouse, she wants to move in with me.”
“What did Father say?”
“He said ‘absolutely not’,” Simon revealed.
“I should say so.”
Simon sighed. “But Beatrice is rather insistent,” he said. “She is tired of her rented rooms being all the way across Town.”
“You already know my thoughts on that matter.”
“Yes, my noble brother does not think one should have a mistress,” Simon jested.
Corbyn shook his head. “You cared for Catherine once,” he said. “Just imagine how she must be feeling at this moment.”
“I wouldn’t know, because she retired to our country home.”
“Because of your actions.”
Simon tossed his hands up. “What would you have me do?” he asked. “Demean myself and chase after my wife?”
“Yes.”
“Am I to have no pride, then?”
“There is no room for pride when dealing with matters of the heart.”
Simon huffed. “I daresay you have become far too sentimental, Brother,” he said. “Catherine is not one to easily forgive.”
“She is your wife and deserves to be treated with respect,” Corbyn pressed.
“And what of Beatrice?” Simon asked haughtily. “You would have me be so cold and unfeeling as to cut ties with the mother of my children?”
Corbyn gave his brother a pointed look. “You are a fool, and I do not have time to be caught up in your misery.”
“You think I am miserable?” Simon asked.
“I do,” Corbyn said. “I believe you don’t know what you want.”
Simon put his hands up. “In due time, I will be the next Duke of Weatherby, and this will all belong to me.”
“But will that make you happy?”
“Yes!” Simon exclaimed. “How could you even imply that it wouldn’t?”
“I do believe I gave you too much credit, Brother,” Corbyn said. “If you will excuse me, I need to speak to Father.”
As he brushed past his brother, Simon put a hand on his shoulder. “What do you mean you gave me too much credit?”
“Happiness does not come from material things,” Corbyn revealed. “It comes from within.”
“That is ridiculous,” Simon exclaimed as he lowered his hand to the side. “That’s what poor people say.”
“Perhaps, but I have discovered what truly makes me happy.”
“Which is?”
Corbyn smiled. “Being in love.”
Simon knitted his brows together. “Who exactly are you in love with?”
“Lady Jane Radcliff,” he revealed.
Simon let out a loud laugh. “I daresay Lady Jane will never give the second son of a duke a chance,” he said. “You have no title or fortune.”
“I would agree with you,” Corbyn responded. “I am not worthy of her, but that won’t
stop me from offering for her.”
“I am beginning to think that you are the fool, not me,” Simon scoffed.
“Perhaps, but it is a risk I am willing to take.”
Simon shook his head. “I wish you luck.”
“I appreciate that.”
Corbyn headed up the stairs towards his father’s bedchamber. He knocked on the door and waited to be invited in.
“Enter,” his father said.
As he opened the door, he saw his mother sitting next to his father’s bed with a book in her hand. His Grace was sitting up in bed, his back resting against the wall.
“Evan,” his mother greeted, rising. “What a lovely surprise.”
“I have come to check on Father,” Corbyn said as he stepped further into the room.
“That is so thoughtful of you!” his mother gushed. “Isn’t it, Andrew?”
His Grace nodded. “It is,” he replied in his usual gruff manner.
“Have you had breakfast?” his mother inquired.
“I haven’t.”
“Would you like me to request a tray?”
Corbyn put his hand up. “That won’t be necessary,” he assured her. “I was hoping to speak to you both about an important matter.”
His mother returned to her seat and gave him an expectant look.
Corbyn walked over to the window and leaned back against the windowsill. “I have decided to offer for Lady Jane Radcliff.”
His mother clasped her hands together. “What wonderful news!” she exclaimed. “I adore Lady Jane.”
“I assumed you would be rather pleased,” Corbyn said with a smile.
His Grace spoke up curtly. “I would like to speak to Evan alone.”
“As you wish,” his wife replied, rising.
After his mother left, closing the door behind her, Corbyn turned his attention towards his father.
“Come sit by me,” his father encouraged.
Corbyn straightened from the windowsill and sat down on the chair next to the bed. He didn’t speak as he waited for his father to say something.
“I wanted to thank you for saving my life,” his father finally said.
“That isn’t necessary.”
“But it is,” his father insisted. “You risked your own life for my sake.”
“Your attacker wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle.”
His father’s eyes glistened with tears. “I believe I have underestimated you, my son,” he admitted. “I have never seen someone act with such bravery.”