Chapter Thirty-Five #2
“I believe he’s in attendance tonight,” Mr. Nott continued to speak, but Seth could hardly hear him over the blood pounding in his ears. “Is there anything I should do?”
Seth reminded himself to breathe because it could be nothing. It was likely nothing. But he had to find Cassandra. Sir Reginald was here, and for the safety of all, someone had to be notified without causing mass hysteria.
“I need you to find Lord Blackmoor and tell him exactly what you told me,” Seth said. “Be discreet, but do not tarry!”
“Mr. Reeves!” Mr. Nott called out, but Seth was already taking the stairs two by two, rushing through the halls, moving deliberately through to the ballroom where he caught sight of Lady Jasmine.
Cassandra wasn’t with her.
Don’t assume. Don’t assume.
Before he reached Lady Jasmine, a junior footman grabbed his arm and pulled him behind a curtain.
Grunting, he turned to face—
“Trevor?!”
“Mr. Reeves!”
Dressed in General Martin’s livery, Trevor’s face flushed red, breathing hard. Words left his mouth so fast his tongue tied over them.
“It’sMrs.Reevesshesstrappedinahedgemazewithamanwithagun!”
“Trevor, calm down, breathe. What did you say?”
“That man from Hyde Park! He’s with Mrs. Reeves—he has a gun!”
“Where?”
“The hedge maze!”
No.
Seth grabbed Trevor’s shoulders and shook him. “Was she alive?!”
“Yes, but—”
Heart racing his mind calculated the steps from the ballroom to the hedge maze and there were too many.
Seth bolted through the ballroom.
“What do I do?!” Trevor yelled to him.
Seth shouted over his shoulder, “Tell my brother!”
“Which one?!”
Seth didn’t answer. He ran to the back door.
Guests rushed out of his way with startled cries, but he wouldn’t look back, couldn’t look back.
Cassandra was alone, away from the manor, away from help.
She might be hurt, she might be—no. She’s alive.
Please be alive. Strides lengthening with each step to the door, he begged, please, God, let her still be alive!
Once outside, Seth ran down the terrace steps like a man possessed.
He ripped at his cravat and coat buttons in case he needed full range of movement.
He tiptoed through the hedge maze. As he neared the center, he heard whispering, recognizing the lulling of Cassandra’s voice, and the harsh clips of Sir Reginald’s responses.
“I’ve read e-every one of your s-son’s pamphlets,” Cassandra said conversationally through chattering teeth.
“Don’t talk about him!”
“I finished reading Hellion from Hampshire last night. It might be my f-favorite in the series. He painted such a vivid picture of Sicily, I could taste the salt on the sea b-breeze.”
“I said stop!”
“From his words I know that he was a good man, with a strong sense of justice, h-honorable, and merciful. Wouldn’t he want you to show mercy?”
“He’s not around to ask!”
Seth willed Cassandra to keep talking, to provide a distraction while he planned his next moves.
His hands shook, and he forced himself to think because she was alive now, but as soon as he made his presence known, the likelihood of her staying that way was slim.
As were his options. There were only two entrances to their position, the one he was at now, and the one behind the bench.
He wouldn’t be able to sneak around to the back, he had to face him head on.
Seth removed a muff pistol from his inner coat pocket and transferred it to his hip. It was preloaded with a single round. One shot was all he would have, one second, and if he failed, Cassandra would die. Sir Reginald would kill her, as he had tried so many times before.
This would be the last time.
Sir Reginald had gone mad. He would continue to come for her, waiting in every dark alley and hiding behind every top hat. He wouldn’t stop on his own.
He had to be stopped.
Seth took a step forward. Sir Reginald’s eyes snapped to him.
Ice seeped into Seth’s marrow when he saw Cassandra, sitting with her hands in her lap, loosely covered by a shawl.
Cheeks and nose red, she shook visibly, but she was unharmed.
For now. Next to her, Sir Reginald sat with the pistol that Seth had seen in his dreams, pointed directly at Cassandra.
Seth struggled to breathe, the air sucked out of his chest. With every forced inhalation, he harnessed the resolve of a soldier, forcing the clear-headed calmness beaten into him during training.
Focus. Make the right move. Say the right thing.
Time sped up. His own pistol rubbed against his side as he stepped further into the center.
A lifetime of instructions ran through his mind.
Don’t escalate.
Seth moved forward with both hands in the air.
Sir Reginald stood, lifting Cassandra roughly by the arm. Her cry pierced the silence, filling Seth with the primal urge to defend, to maim, and he fought with himself to stay still.
No quick movements.
She reached for him, but her struggles ceased when Sir Reginald grazed the barrel against her temple. Trembling, she kept her arms at her sides and her eyes clenched closed. With an arm around her shoulders, Sir Reginald used Cassandra as a shield.
Wait for the right moment.
Seth took half a step forward.
“Lovely of you to join us, Mr. Reeves.” Venom dripped from Sir Reginald’s voice.
“We were just discussing my son. You remember him, don’t you?
Of course you do. You remember everything.
” He smiled, baring each of his teeth. “Except for me. When I found out you lived, I thought the authorities would show up at my front door any day.”
Speak softly.
“Release Cassandra, Sir Reginald. She’s innocent.”
In the clearing properly, he allowed his hands to drop and shifted his body. Using shadows and distraction to his advantage, Seth drew his pistol, hiding it in his sleeve. He continued speaking to Sir Reginald as if he were a child.
“This is about Charles, isn’t it?” Sir Reginald sucked in a sharp breath at the name, and Seth moved forward. “I’m responsible for his death. Let Cassandra go, and kill me.”
“Seth, no.” Cassandra sobbed. “Seth, you don’t have to do this. Sir Reginald, your son would not want you to do this!”
Sir Reginald ignored her.
“It’s not enough for you to die. You deserve to suffer! Like my son suffered! Like I have suffered every night since his passing! I have nothing because of you! My family is gone! Why should you get to have one?”
Seth continued to stalk cautiously forward, keeping his voice low and even.
“You’re right… I don’t deserve a family… but Cassandra does. She deserves to go home to her sister… Caroline is seventeen. Isn’t that right… Cassandra?”
Seth held his own pistol against his fingertips and waited.
“E-eighteen in J-January.” Trickles of sweat formed at Cassandra’s brow and fell, one bead catching on the barrel at her temple. “On the t-twelfth.”
“Weeks away.” Seth kept his eyes trained on Sir Reginald, saw his resolve waver with each word, the pistol lowering slowly. “Caroline needs her sister for her debut next year… their mother passed. You remember Catherine Cooper? That’s her daughter in your arms…”
“Stop talking!”
“Her brother… Matthew? He would be lost without her—”
When Seth took another step closer, Sir Reginald wrenched Cassandra backwards, pulling her toward the other exit, putting space between them.
The wind rustled through the hedges, and behind Sir Reginald, Seth saw movement.
Moonlight glinted off a familiar pair of eyes, and Seth stood as still as he dared to not draw attention to the newcomer.
He needed time, and the right angle.
“I said stop!” Sir Reginald shouted.
All he needed was one exact right moment.
“Cassandra didn’t take away your family. I did,” Seth said. “So let her go, and we can settle this between men.”
“Men?!” Sir Reginald’s shrill voice stabbed into the night. “A man wouldn’t have let another burn to death! A man would have some accountability!”
“I did everything I could.” Seth took a step closer. If he reached out, he could grab Cassandra. “I went into that fire prepared to die for him. I wished it had been me.”
The shadow in the hedges stepped closer, but Seth couldn’t focus on them, couldn’t take his eyes off the man in front of him, couldn’t look away from Cassandra.
“That isn’t enough! But it will be when she dies.
” Sir Reginald’s voice shook with the pistol in his hands, breaking down with each second that passed.
He jerked Cassandra out of reach and to his side.
Enraged beyond reason, he was going to shoot her now and the last of Seth’s orders shouted in his mind.
Use lethal force when necessary.
Seth raised his pistol.
I’m the best shot in the country. I’m five feet away. One second. Wait for the perfect second. Focus! And for God’s sake, steady your hands!
“Stand down, or I’ll kill you,” he threatened.
Sir Reginald barked out a laugh, cruel and tortured.
“Yes, that is what you do, Mr. Reeves. You kill people. Well go ahead, I’m dying anyway. Bad heart. Before I leave this world you’ll pay for what you’ve done.” His face split with a victorious grin. “You might kill me, but not before I kill her.”
Cassandra readjusted her hand, showing a flash of silver and black-blood rubies, and Seth realized for the first time that her hair was down.
She held Lord Bolderwood’s hairpin like a dagger in her clenched hand, pointed behind her, and Seth fought the urge to scream at her to stay her hand.
But he couldn’t move, couldn’t draw attention to her.
He could only watch, rooted to the spot as time slowed.
Sir Reginald placed his finger on the trigger at the same time Cassandra raised her arm.
“It’s time to end this. With as long as it’s been since the hunting party, she’s surely with child.” Sir Reginald kept his eyes on Seth. “Now you’ll know how it feels to lose a son.”
Movement in the hedge behind him caught Sir Reginald’s attention.
He swiveled his head to the side, but before Seth could take the shot, Cassandra ducked low and stabbed her hairpin into Sir Reginald’s thigh.
He shrieked. She thrust her elbow into his gut.
Sir Reginald grappled with her, both falling to the ground in a tumble.
Seth raised his pistol but couldn’t get a clear shot.
Cassandra was moving too fast. If he took the shot, he could kill her, and if he didn’t, Sir Reginald would.
His heartbeat deafened his ears. Cassandra was on the ground.
She was on the ground, and he couldn’t move.
He couldn’t breathe. Sir Reginald recovered, holding his bleeding thigh in one hand and his pistol in the other, raising it to her once more.
From behind Sir Reginald, dark hair and ruthless eyes stepped forward.
Another flash of metal glinted. With the stark knowledge of what was about to occur, Seth ducked.
And he prayed.
A percussive explosion rent the air with a thunderous BOOM!
Cassandra screamed.
Jerking forward, Sir Reginald fell to the ground next to her in a spasming heap.
His gun fell out of his twitching hand, landing soundlessly against the grass.
The scent of blood shrouded the air, assaulting Seth’s nose with the sheer force of it.
He gagged when he saw Sir Reginald, bleeding from a wound in the side of his head, gaping and black and—
Seth sank to the ground and wrapped his coat around Cassandra.
He covered her head and pushed her face into his shoulder, holding her as steady as he was able with every ounce of him shaking.
Cassandra grabbed handfuls of his shirt, popping buttons in her effort to get him closer.
All the while, she labored with gulping, wretched gasps.
He tasted salt from her tears as he kissed her cheeks, then slanted his trembling mouth on hers to feel her breath, and he thanked God.
Flailing, Cassandra twisted to see from outside his coat, her eyes darting back and forth.
Seth locked his gaze on hers. “Cassandra, don’t look… no, sweetheart. Look at me. That’s right… only me. That’s it… breathe, love… I’ve got you. You’re safe, you’re safe.”
Her fingers dug into his back hard enough to bruise, as if letting go for a moment would cause him to disappear. But there was no fear of that anymore. Nothing could have torn her from him.
And now, nothing ever would.
Because on the other side of Sir Reginald Thomas’s prone form stood a man with a smoking gun at his side, steam blistering the air, matching controlled puffs of breath leaving his mouth. With a completely blank expression on his face, Lord Matthew Cooper, Viscount Lincolnshire, stepped forward.
“That’ll be the last time someone threatens my family.”