Chapter 35
“Don’t speak,” Reeves murmured as Bridget drew near. “Don’t say anything.”
She complied, little though she wanted to. What she wanted was to turn around, run back to Emma, and grab her. She wanted to shield Emma’s body with her own. She would take any shots that were fired Emma’s way. Anything was better than sending Emma into the hands of Gareth.
How could Reeves do this?
She looked into his eyes, searching for answers. He made eye contact with her, but only for the briefest moment—then he looked away. It was obvious that he didn’t want to meet her gaze, though why that was, she couldn’t be sure. Was he ashamed of what he was doing?
He should be.
As long as she lived, Bridget knew she would never forget this.
She would never forgive him. How had he made this choice?
How could he be choosing her over Emma? Didn’t he know that she would never have agreed to that if he had asked her?
That she would have been happy to sacrifice herself so that Emma could go free?
All he’d had to do was stay away, and everything would have been fine—fine for Emma, that was, even if not for Bridget.
But he hadn’t. He’d chosen wrong, and now they were all going to pay the price.
Then several things happened in quick succession.
She reached Reeves, and he grabbed her and thrust her behind him. Bridget let out a cry of shock at the suddenness of it—she hadn’t expected him to lay hands on her at all. She stumbled forward slightly and was forced to throw her arms out and catch Reeves around the waist to steady herself.
As she was turned around, she saw past him to where Emma had made it to Gareth. Just the sight of Emma so close to that vile man turned her stomach, and she felt even worse when Gareth reached out and put a hand on Emma’s shoulder.
How dare he touch her! Fury rose within Bridget. Even though she knew she shouldn’t, even though she knew there was a gun, and she was likely making things worse, she lurched against Reeves, trying to make it back to Emma and stop this from happening after all.
A slow smile spread over Gareth’s face—he must realize he’d won—and then he let out a cry, pulled his arm back, and Bridget saw blood there.
Confusion surged through her. What had just happened?
Emma threw off her cloak.
Bridget gasped.
It wasn’t Emma at all.
She had assumed it must be, because of the person’s short stature. She hadn’t even considered the fact that it might be anybody else. But suddenly, everything came clear.
Of course, Reeves would never have brought his beloved daughter into this sort of danger.
Of course, there had been another plan all along.
The person who now stood face-to-face with Gareth wasn’t even a child. It was a man, though a very lean and short one. He had close-cropped dark hair and narrow, nimble fingers. His face wore a wicked smile. And as Bridget watched, he drew back his blade again and drove it into Gareth’s stomach.
Gareth let out a scream of agony and collapsed to the ground.
His hands went to his wound, trying to stop the bleeding.
Bridget could see that his torn shirt was quickly becoming stained with red.
Horror spread through her. It was a relief, of course, to see Gareth taken down.
The situation had certainly turned in their favor.
But she had never borne witness to this kind of violence.
Was she going to have to watch a man die today?
She wasn’t ready for that. She didn’t want to see that.
The small man bent down, relieved Gareth of his firearm, and took a quick step backward, out of reach of his grasping hands.
“I’d lie still if I were you,” he said, his voice dark and low.
It didn’t seem at all suited to his stature.
He ought to have had a childlike voice, not such an ominous-sounding one.
He seemed like a dangerous person, even more so than he had when he’d pulled his knife.
Bridget shivered. I’m glad he’s on our side, whoever he is.
The man rose to his feet and wiped the blade of his knife on the hem of his shirt. Then he turned to face Reeves.
“That ought to do it for him,” he said darkly. “He’s down for the count, at the very least.” He handed the gun to Reeves. “I’d keep this trained on him if I were you, though. Even though he’s down, you can never tell what a desperate man might do. I wouldn’t put it past him to try something.”
“Run out and tell the constables we’re ready for them,” Reeves said, his eyes on Gareth.
“Are you sure you want me to step out? You could send the woman.”
“No, she isn’t going anywhere on her own.
” Reeves’ voice was tight, and Bridget felt a surge of gratitude.
Though she had no desire to stay in this room with the vile Gareth, the idea of separating herself from Reeves now was no better.
He was the only thing making her feel safe.
“I wouldn’t worry, Jasper. I think Norman and I can handle Gareth now that he’s on the ground, and you’ll only be gone a few moments. ”
“All right,” the man said. “But you give a yell if he tries anything.”
He turned and hurried out of the door, shooting a last glare at Gareth over his shoulder.
“Constables?” Bridget repeated.
“Of course,” Reeves said. “You didn’t think I would come here without any backup, did you?”
“Well… I suppose I thought Norman was your backup.” She looked over at the tall man standing in the corner of the room.
He hadn’t moved since they came in, but now he gave her a small smile.
“I wasn’t expecting constables. Not to mention this other man.
I certainly wasn’t expecting him. When I saw Norman, I thought he was the one you had chosen to rely on. ”
“He is,” Reeves said. “But he’s not my only backup.
I wouldn’t have brought him inside if he were.
I couldn’t show all my cards. By bringing him in, I made Gareth believe that this was the whole of my plan—bringing Norman along as my bodyguard.
He didn’t like that, as you saw, but he was able to accept it because he believed he was still going to walk away with what he wanted.
He assumed that Norman was here to protect me, or even to protect you.
But it was clear that Norman wasn’t going to try to attack, or to prevent the exchange from taking place, and once Gareth saw that, he let his guard down again… just as I predicted he would.”
Bridget looked over at Gareth once more. He was panting for breath, clearly struggling to remain conscious. His face had gone gray. She looked away quickly—this was painful to watch.
The door opened once more, and two constables came into the room.
One of them made his way over to Gareth’s side and knelt.
“He’ll survive,” he announced after a moment.
“The blade didn’t damage any vital organs.
There’s a lot of blood, and we need to get him seen to quickly, but he’ll walk away from this. ”
“Well, that’s a bit of a shame,” said the man who had done the stabbing. “I suppose I aimed poorly. I was going for the spleen.”
“Who is he?” Bridget whispered to Reeves.
“A companion from my time at war,” Reeves said. “He was known for his blade work—a bit of an assassin. We’ve been in touch since the war, and I knew that he was the right person to turn to for help today. Of course, it helped tremendously that under that cloak he could pass for Emma.”
He was slightly larger than Emma, Bridget realized now. It had taken some luck for everyone to assume that he was Emma in the first place, and she wondered what Reeves would have done if Gareth had demanded that the cloak come off at once. Thank goodness that didn’t happen.
The constable tied Gareth’s arms behind his back now. “We’ll take him in and have a physician stabilize him,” he said. “But having been caught in the act like this, Your Grace, I feel safe in saying that he’ll be locked away for a very long time. You won’t have to worry about this fiend anymore.”
“Thank you,” Reeves said gravely. “All I want is for my family to be safe, and I no longer count him as a part of that.”
Bridget let out a long sigh of relief as the two constables dragged Gareth from the room. Reeves’ war companion followed behind, leaving her with Reeves and Norman. “I didn’t think you were going to come,” she said.
“Of course I came,” Reeves said. His hands were on her arms, bracketing her, holding her. “I would never leave you to the devices of that man. I never considered it even for a moment.”
“I didn’t want you to come,” she whispered. “I didn’t want Emma to be in danger.”
“She was never in danger,” Reeves said. “I would never have put her in danger, Bridget. I know neither one of us could have lived with ourselves if she had been sacrificed. You wouldn’t have wanted to get away from this situation like that.”
“No,” Bridget said fiercely. “I wouldn’t.”
“And I love you for it,” Reeves said softly. “You love my daughter, and I love you for that. I love you for your courage and for the way you have dared to place yourself in harm’s way to help her find her freedom. You would have done anything to protect her. I’ll never forget that.”
Bridget’s heart soared at his words. He had said he loved her.
She wanted to say it back to him. She wanted to come up with a long and passionate speech that would let him know exactly the way she felt about him, everything she had been thinking and struggling with since the moment the two of them had met.
But words failed her.
So instead, she rose onto her toes and kissed him, the way she had sworn to herself she would do if she was lucky enough to get a second chance at life.
Reeves’ arms tightened around her. In that moment, she forgot her fear and the horror of everything that had happened today.
All that mattered was him.