Page 94 of A Conspiracy in Belgravia
“I’m here to say good-bye.”
“What good-bye?” Her voice was rising—she couldn’t control the volume of her speech. “Are you going somewhere?”
“No, you are.” He dropped a velvet pouch on the console table just inside the door. “I brought your jewelry.”
Through her stupefaction, understanding was beginning to seep through. He knew. He knew everything. It was all over. “How did you know?”
“You haven’t been as careful as you should have,” he said blandly. “You thought I would never suspect you.”
“How long? How long have you suspected me?”
Her voice was still rising, while his remained quiet and even. She hated that almost as much as she hated being found out.
“Does it matter? I know the truth. At least three people are dead because of you.”
She heard herself laugh. “They’re dead because they chose to dodangerous things. And people who choose to do dangerous things sometimes don’t come home.”
He sat down stiffly, as if his back, too, bothered him. “Several times when I was abroad, I almost didn’t come back. Were you hoping I wouldn’t?”
“Does it matter now?”
A trace of sadness shadowed his eyes. “No, you are right. It doesn’t matter now. Just go.”
Just go?Did he not know her at all? She pulled out the pistol she’d brought in her handbag. “If I leave, you’ll never let me see my children again. Better I kill you and carry on as a grieving widow.”
He seemed neither surprised nor discomfited at the sight of a firearm aimed at his forehead. “Nobody will believe you a grieving widow. Also, should a gunshot ring out, you’ll never leave this place except in custody. There are men stationed both on the street and on the other side of the door leading into the hotel. There are no other exits. You kill me, and our children lose both parents.”
She chewed the inside of her lip.
“Not to mention that Bancroft is on his way. You fall into his hands and there will be no public murder trial for you—you will only wish you had one. If I were you, I wouldn’t waste a moment.”
The pistol shook. Was this really the end? Had she worked so hard and endured so much forthis? “I have despised you for a long time. Everybody else understands a Society marriage for what it is. But you, nothing less than true love would do for you, would it? Well, I’ve had enough of your ‘gentlemanly’ reproach. Long may you rot in hell.”
“The carriage outside is at your disposal,” he said, his tone as mild as ever. “I wouldn’t, however, try to go home and abduct the children. They are already elsewhere.”
Her finger tightened on the trigger, the last bit of metal resistance giving away.
He moved not a muscle. “Remember Bancroft. This is your only chance to flee. Once he has you, I will not be able to intercede on your behalf.”
Her entire arm trembled. It would be beautiful, the sight of a bullet shattering that thick skull. What wouldn’t she give to see it.
A scream left her lips.
He only stared at her.
She shoved the gun back into her handbag, grabbed the pouch of jewels, and ran out. She couldn’t allow herself to fall into Bancroft’s hands. She couldn’t. That would truly be the end of everything. As long as she still had her freedom, this would prove to be only a temporary setback.
A minor defeat before the major victory to come.
Lord Ingram slowly unclenched his hand from the revolver in his pocket.
He, too, was now shaking.
The children had been removed from the town house, that was true. But there were no men outside ready to leap to his assistance, and he would not inform Bancroft of her departure until twenty-four hours had passed.
He owed her this much, the mother of his children.
Twenty-two
