up, he didn’t know.
He wanted to kiss her. But he needed to focus. A kiss now, in this moment, would feel too much like a permanent goodbye. So he nodded instead. “If he comes out that door, aim for his heart.”
Her lips quirked. “I always aim for the heart.”
He smiled at her. Then he made eye contact with his batman. The man didn’t have to say a word to communicate his intent. If Edgewood came through the front door, Trower would shoot him before anything could happen to Ellie.
Nick and Marcus left them and walked to the house. They held their pistols openly; this wasn’t the time for subtlety. “Shoot first, or ask questions first?” Marcus asked in a low voice.
“Ask questions. I was ready to kill Norbury. It doesn’t seem right to kill Edgewood without a conversation, since we could be mistaken again. But if he sees both of us, with guns, I doubt we’ll have to ask anything before he shows his hand.”
Marcus nodded. Nick knocked on the door. When a manservant answered, he took one look at their guns and held up his hands.
“Where is Edgewood?” Nick asked in a low voice.
“In the dining room, my lord,” he stammered. He pointed through the drawing room toward another set of doors. The house was small enough, and old enough, that the main rooms were all interconnected.
Damn. Nick gestured to Marcus. “Wait in the drawing room. I’ll go around to the door that leads to the kitchens. As soon as you hear my voice, come in through the drawing room door.”
He left before Marcus could argue. The footman led him to the back of the house. “Keep the servants away,” Nick ordered quietly. “And make sure the dowager stays upstairs.”
The footman nodded and backed away from him. Nick eyed the closed door to the dining room. He felt a rush of nerves, followed by a deadly sort of calm. The world seemed to slow down, just for a moment. Everything became focused on that door knob and the moment that lay beyond it.
He opened the door. Edgewood sat at the table, just as Nick had remembered him — impeccably dressed, oozing charm, seeming at ease with the world. He looked up from his plate. His blue eyes were shocked. Nick saw a swift, instinctive rush of hate before Edgewood regained control.
“Lord Folkestone. How pleasant to see you here,” he said.
Marcus rushed through the other door as soon as Edgewood spoke. Edgewood turned toward him, raising his hands as though he were the only sane one in the room. “And Mr. Claiborne. Another pleasant surprise. Is there some service you require from me?”
He was utterly calm. Too calm. Norbury, who was innocent, had been petrified. Edgewood seemed amused, as though two men with guns drawn were just a game to him.
“You know why we’re here, Edgewood,” Nick said. “You have two choices. A one-way trip to Van Diemen’s Land, leaving tonight. Or a public hanging at Newgate and a box in potter’s field. What’s your preference?”
Edgewood leaned back in his chair. “You already fired me. Am I really so irksome to you that you must further ruin my life?”
Nick leaned against the door frame, pretending to be as calm as Edgewood. “You deserved to be let go. But if I had known that you would continue to plague me, I would have had you arrested instead — you should have been grateful that all I did was fire you.”
“As though anyone there would have cared,” Edgewood said with a laugh. “Half the men in the East India Company were doing something illicit — skimming profits, taking bribes, or exploiting villages. If I had worked for them instead of you, I could have been rich by now.”
“You were more than comfortable.”
“Comfortable? In India?” Edgewood scoffed. “There isn’t enough money in the world to make that hellish place bearable. No white women, little entertainment, a fever every fortnight. In some ways I was relieved when you sent me home. Perhaps you would have hated it, too, if you had grown up with the higher classes as I did.”
Nick knew when he was being baited. He didn’t rise to it. “It’s a shame that all your class made you such a bad shot. All those times you missed me in India, and then you come here and shoot a maid and your own valet rather than either of us.”
Edgewood’s jaw ticked. “Not that I am admitting to anything, but I couldn’t have been