Guy noted.
He needed no further confirmation that his suspicions were correct. Banfield had planned all this. He’d fired that shot at Astley’s, and when it had failed, he’d set up this elaborate scheme. No doubt he intended for Haviland to take the blame for murdering the Duke of Carlin and his governess. Guy could even make a fair guess as to the motive behind the killings.
Banfield stepped aside, waving his hand at the door. “There is a key in the lock. Lord Haviland must have left it for you.”
“Don’t just stand there. Open it.”
“As you wish.”
The instant the secretary turned toward the door, Guy quietly drew out his pistol. He would come up from behind and take him captive. Then he’d force a confession out of the weasel.
But before he could advance even a step, a black form flew out of the bushes. It landed on the pathway in between them. A long silver claw flashed in the moonlight as the snarling creature pounced on Banfield.
The man spun around, defensively raising his arm. Too late. The beast struck flesh, wresting an inhuman howl from Banfield. With lightning-quick reflexes, the secretary seized the squirming entity, and the claw clattered onto the ground.
Guy stared. A pair of scissors?
Just then, the struggling figures moved into the moonlight. The ethereal glow revealed a dainty face smudged with black. The sight was a hard punch to his gut.
Tessa!
“Let me go,” she cried out, straining against Banfield’s grip.
A cauldron of rage erupted in Guy. His fingers clenched around the stock of his pistol. Only a thread of rationality enabled him to keep a hold on himself. Banfield would stop at nothing, and Guy dared not risk harming Tessa.
Besides, he still had an ace up his sleeve. Two aces, in fact.
“You heard the lady,” he snapped. “Release her. This is between you and me.”
He brought out his pistol and cocked the hammer.
So did Banfield.
The man jammed the barrel of the matching pistol into the side of her neck. “Lay down your weapon, Carlin,” he grated in a voice quite unlike his customary coolness. “Else I’ll shoot her dead.”
Chapter 21
Tessa ceased struggling at the feel of that cold round circle pressed against her skin. One bump of Banfield’s hand could end her life in an explosive flash. Since the mere touch of his body against her back was repulsive, it took all her willpower to hold herself still. For an older man, he possessed a wiry strength, and she hoped Guy would not underestimate him.
But at least she had hurt Banfield. The tip of the scissors had ripped through his sleeve and sunk into his flesh. She could feel the warm blood dripping from his forearm down onto the front of her gown.
The duke stood like a granite statue in the shadows. Though she could not read his expression, the sight of him made her ache with love and despair. She couldn’t see any way out of this standoff, at least not for herself.
Yet she had no regrets for having attacked Banfield. She had caught him off balance and upended his diabolical scheme. He would no longer have the advantage over Guy in a physical fight.
“Shoot him, Carlin!”
“And lose you? Don’t be absurd, my dear.”
To her anguish, he eased back the hammer and leaned down to place the pistol on the ground, shoving it beneath the bushes. Then he straightened again, his hands open, palms up. “There, Banfield. I’m all yours. Now let her go.”
“How touching,” Banfield mocked. “The Duke of Carlin trading his life for a mongrel.”
“The only mongrel I see is you,” Guy said coolly. “I’m guessing you’re my grandfather’s bastard. Quite probably his eldest. Once I hit upon that theory, all the deaths in my family began to make perfect sense. You’ve been eaten up by envy of us.”
“Shut up,” Banfield hissed, his breath hot as a demon’s against her ear. “I would have made a much more dignified duke than you, your father, or any of your uncles.”
“Oh, much better, I’m sure. I never wanted the title, anyway.” Guy paused, his pose still one of surrender. “But you won’t wish to murder me out here in the garden. The noise of the gunshot would wake all the neighbors. Not to mention it would bring Haviland running.”
During this exchange, Tessa could feel tension quivering in Banfield. Now that his scheme had been revealed, he no longer exuded a cold superiority. It was Guy who radiated control despite the dire situation, and she could only pray