Chapter 50
Chapter Fifty
Getting into the home was easy. The butler acted unsurprised at his arrival, almost as though he expected Perry.
The frail older man nodded, welcoming him into the foyer.
Forest-green walls were decorated with oil paintings depicting famous battles.
The butler shuffled his feet along, his shoulders stooped, and a light wisp of white hair barely covering his balding pate.
Heavy wood trim met inlaid hardwood floors in a tone that reminded him of the color of tobacco.
The atmosphere was thick with tension, the silence challenging anyone to disturb it.
Perry hazarded a gaze around him as he was led down a poorly lit corridor.
A meager stream of light came from the rooms on either side of the hallway.
Despite the day blazing bright outside, the house gave him the impression he was about to have a meeting with the devil himself.
A shiver ran through him, and a flicker of hesitation made him consider turning back.
Perhaps this had been a mistake. Rather than putting an end to the danger, he may have welcomed it with open arms.
The viscount sat at his desk, unaware of his presence for a moment, as he turned a scornful eye to his butler.
The man clearly resented being interrupted by his servants.
At once, a bright smile covered his face as he perceived Perry moving to stand beside the cowering butler.
Newbridge looked as he always did, his small stature making him appear less threatening, his blonde hair swept to the side, and his ingratiating smile familiar.
His tailcoat had seen better days, though it was possible he dressed down while at home, saving his best clothing for outings.
If money was as tight as Perry had learned, the man needed to be careful.
Newbridge seemed harmless and jovial. This appearance gained him favor in the ballroom, garnering him a few dances and sometimes, looks of pity.
But Perry felt no pity within him. Only hot boiling rage.
“My dear Lord Spencer, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company?” the viscount said, his mouth curving into an easy grin. “How delighted I am to see you again so soon after the Covington Ball. How is your lovely wife? It was enchanting to meet her.”
Newbridge ordered the butler to have some refreshments prepared, remaining silent until the door closed behind the servant.
“Please,” the viscount tilted his head toward the chair across from him. “Have a seat. We must not stand on formalities. Make yourself comfortable. Call me Thomas.”
His heart, refusing to slow, beat a steady rhythm in his chest, feeding the sickening sensation flooding his stomach.
Perry smiled. A chill skated up his spine as he slowly lowered himself into the distressed brown leather chair across from the man.
“How are you, Thomas? I believe I heard rumors of you seeking out a companion for yourself? Has a particular young lady caught your eye?” Perry ventured, hoping to ease into the conversation. Was small talk an effective way to disarm his enemy? He was about to find out.
Thomas sniffed. “Well, I believe the prospects I have met are woefully inadequate, especially in comparison to… Well, we won’t go into that matter.
Perhaps I should explore marriage to a widow; your wife was previously married, was she not?
It was commendable that you took in her child, my lord.
Such a noble gesture,” he said and smirked, the smile failing to reach his eyes.
Heat built inside Perry’s chest at the words.
It was a direct attack. “I like to keep the details of my relationship private. You may assume that I am very pleased with the match. We are well-suited. We bear an affection for each other that was missing in my first marriage.” Perry gave a taunting smile at his opponent. “I am blessed to have a daughter.”
Thomas’s hands curled into fists on the table.
“Well, it is to be expected. Eliza was a much more reserved woman. A proper lady representing her elevated status. Much deserving of the title of countess,” the viscount said, his breath coming more rapidly.
“If only I could find a woman such as her. We were once close, you know. With our neighboring estates, we knew each other quite well. I miss her greatly.”
Perry opened his mouth to speak, but was distracted by a noise coming from the hallway. The butler swept into the room with a tray of cheese and dry cakes. Setting the food on the desk before Perry, the man moved to prepare two glasses from a nearby cabinet.
“Can I offer you a drink?” Thomas offered, raising a brow in question.
Perry couldn’t imagine making this visit take longer, but accepted, in the hopes of allaying any suspicions about the nature of his presence at the home.
He wouldn’t trust anything Newbridge served him, but he could pretend to take the drink as a courtesy.
He rubbed his hand over his chest absently, the dig of the gun in his ribs reassuring.
Turning his attention back to Newbridge, he chose his words carefully.
“I must confess that this is not a social call,” Perry said. “I am in search of the truth.”
The viscount’s gaze flicked from his butler back to Perry. Perry had never noticed how cold Thomas’s gaze was, cruel even. “Your words intrigue me. What information could I possibly give you?”
The way the man’s gaze hardened on Perry made goosebumps appear on his skin.
Newbridge’s eyes narrowed, the uncompromising tightness of his mouth when he eyed Perry giving him away. He could barely restrain his contempt for the earl.
“I’ve come to warn you. Stay away from my family and me, or you will live to regret it.
I have proof that you are behind these attacks on my person.
The proof has been surrendered to a trusted friend who will come for you if you persist in threatening me.
” Perry took the risk of making it sound like his proof was much more solid than it was.
“I have not yet contacted the magistrate, but I will not hesitate, should you come after my family and me.”
If a light deception squeezed a confession out of Newbridge, it would be worth it.
Thomas gave a cold, maniacal cackle that made the hair stand up on the back of his neck. “How droll. Why Lord Spencer, what could I possibly want to hurt you for?”
“That is a truth only you can reveal. I have my suspicions. I took something that you believed belonged to you. Eliza.”
Thomas’s mouth curved into a grin. “I will not lie. I had a fondness for Eliza. But it was hardly something I would kill for. I was simply reciprocating her feelings. Yes, we grew up together. I believe you overestimate my attachment to her.”
Perry snorted, accepting the glass from the servant. The older man then shuffled from the room, leaving them in privacy.
“As I was saying, I cared for Eliza, yes, but that would hardly motivate me to come after you. The better man won, clearly. She would never accept my hand, especially knowing the state of my family’s finances. I accept that.”
“Truly? If the better man won, then why do you cling to this grudge against me? If love was not a motivator, perhaps you had your eye on something more…valuable.”
Thomas’s loud laughter rang through the room.
Startled, Perry pressed his hands on the arms of the chair, preparing himself to leave.
This conversation wasn’t getting him anywhere.
A set of unrecognizable hands pressed down on his shoulders from behind, forcing him back into his seat.
A blackguard who had appeared out of nowhere.
Perry struggled to free himself. His shoulder ached.
“My lord, I am not finished. First, you come in here with the most outlandish accusations, and now, you want to leave before I tell you my side of the story? You are sorely lacking in the etiquette department. Perhaps you need a lesson? What did you expect? To come here and threaten me, then I would make a full confession out of fear?” Thomas scoffed.
“I am not afraid of you. I have you exactly where I want you.”
“What have you done?” Perry asked, his voice breathless and strained. He slowly unbuttoned his jacket, reaching for the gun.
“I am merely seeking what you owe me,” Thomas sneered, his eyes catching Perry’s movement.
Newbridge looked up at the man behind Perry and gave a slight nod.
The larger man took Perry’s arms and yanked him off the comfortable seat.
Dragging Perry to a wooden chair off to the side, he forced him into it like a helpless doll.
Holding his hands behind his back, the large man wound a rope around his torso while Perry struggled against the restraints.
Groping in his jacket for the gun, Perry growled as the thug snatched his weapon and placed it on Newbridge’s desk.
Newbridge moved around the desk, leaning against it and watching Perry struggle.
His stomach sank. He had made a gross miscalculation, and he would pay for it with his life. The only consolation was that his friends were most likely already on their way. Newbridge wouldn’t get away with whatever he was planning.
Newbridge laughed and clapped his hands as he struggled. “What a delightful turn of events! You have made killing you so much easier.”
Pain lanced through his arms each time he struggled. Perry cursed his foolishness.
Newbridge cleared his throat, wiping away tears from his laughter. “You see, I may have exaggerated earlier, but you did take something I wanted very dearly.”
Thomas lifted a stack of papers sitting on his desk and slapped them on the surface of the inlaid mahogany surface.
“You see these? They are bills I cannot pay, debts I will never be able to cover. You know why? When you stole my bride, you stole my future. And yes, I’ve attempted to find another wealthy young woman to marry, but I have failed.
Failed! Because of you. Because of your cursed father, who spread the gossip that my family was on the verge of ruin.
Eliza was my only chance to save my family—and you stole her from me.
” He gave a tortured growl, grasping his carefully combed hair in his hands, tugging up the strands and making his hair stand on end, matching the wildness in his eyes.
“Once the rumors of my dire financial straits began to travel, no one looked at me as a prospect. I was labeled a fortune hunter. Your father made good on his threats to destroy my family when we did not back down.”
“I did not steal her. I did not want her,” Perry retorted, his words thick in his mouth. Bollocks. He pushed against the ropes. They were so tight that they made breathing difficult. If he didn’t get out of this house now, he would be a dead man.
Newbridge stilled, pointing a finger at Perry.
“Oh, see, now that upsets me. How could you not want so valuable a prize? You wanted someone a little more liberal with her passions, eh? More…loose? I never thought you were worthy of Eliza. When I learned that she had died from your neglect and you were already whoring about town, disgracing her memory, I had enough. You and your family need to pay for all that you have done.” The viscount smirked, his gaze flicking to the man standing behind Perry.
Turning, Perry looked up at the powerful beast of a man.
He was not a servant—he was a killer. His mess mop of dark hair and thick beard only increased the air of menace in the man’s black eyes.
His huge hands wrapped around Perry’s neck like a vise, pressing against the site of his wound. He shouted in pain.
The sound of his gun scraping against the surface of the mahogany drew his attention back to the viscount. Perry’s eyes widened as Newbridge tapped the barrel of the gun against his chin and hummed.
“I must admit, your dear wife was lovely enough to bestow her kindness upon me. Your taste in women is commendable. Charlotte felt so good in my arms the other night. I can see the appeal of such a woman. It is a shame what must happen to her. After all, she is innocent in all this.” Thomas gave a soft laugh.
Digging his nails into the ropes at his wrist behind his back, Perry growled. “You stay away from her. I will kill you.”
Thomas snorted. “That is where you are wrong, my lord. It is I who will enjoy killing you. But I am not in a hurry. First, I would like you to feel the agony of having the woman you love die at the hands of another man.”
“I did not kill Eliza,” Perry spat through gritted teeth. He lifted himself against the ropes, his legs pushing him off the ground. He swung the chair around to hit the giant behind him, sending the villain flying back with a grunt.
“Get him, you fool!” Newbridge shouted, lifting the gun above Perry’s head and smacking it on his forehead.
Perry wobbled, warm blood dripping down his cheek from a fresh wound. Strong arms gripped Perry from behind, pushing him back down to the ground.
“Ooh, I am going to enjoy this, Winchester. Say goodbye to your precious countess,” Newbridge said in a sing-song voice.
Thomas raised the gun once again, and Perry braced himself for the hit. He prayed his friends would arrive in time to stop Newbridge from harming his family.
The devil had come to collect his due and no one could stop him. The sound of Thomas’s laugh filled the room as everything went dark.