Page 81 of The Time for Love
Martin nodded. “He did, indeed, and I saw him as well.”
“Excellent.” Curtin reached for the bolt that secured the door. “Let’s see what we can drag from young Vince.”
Curtin went in. Oliver grinned at Martin and followed.
Martin waited until he heard Curtin introducing himself and his “gentlemen assisting,” then stepped into the open doorway.
Vince saw him immediately. He froze for a second, and his arrogantly cocky expression faded. A certain wariness seeped into his features as Martin closed the door, walked forward, and with a flat and unfriendly gaze directed at Vince, claimed the chair on Curtin’s right.
“Now, then.” Curtin gestured at Martin. “I’m sure you recognize this gentleman.”
Vince fixed his gaze on Curtin’s face. “Never saw him before in my life.”
Curtin huffed a laugh. “Come now, Vince.”
“No. I mean it.” Vince shifted his gaze to Martin and narrowed his eyes. “And he can’t tell you any different.”
Martin quirked a brow and, with languid superiority, retorted, “Can’t I?”
“No, you can’t!” Vince leaned across the table. “You were unconscious the whole t—” He broke off.
“Too late.” Martin smiled. “If it’s any consolation, I was, in fact, conscious. I just didn’t want you to know that.”
“Consequently,” Curtin rolled on, “you will be charged with ordering the abduction of Mr. Cynster here, a member of a major aristocratic family.” Curtin looked up and met Vince’s widening-in-horror eyes and nodded. “Ducal dynasty, as a matter of fact.”
“I didn’t know that! I was told he was just some London gentleman who was sweet on Miss Carmichael, and if we happened to grab him as well as her—” With a visible effort, Vince swallowed the rest of his panicked words. He hauled in a deep breath, then sat back and folded his arms across his chest. “I’m not saying anything more.”
He pressed his lips tight as if to ensure that.
Unperturbed, Curtin smiled. “That’s all right. We don’t need anything more from you, at least not in terms of defining the charges to be laid at your door. Where was I? Ah, yes. You will be charged with abducting Mr. Cynster, and as he is here, ready to bear witness, our case is cut and dried.”
Vince’s unlovely features worked, then he blurted, “You won’t charge me.” He glanced at Martin, and Vince’s expression turned sly. “You won’t want it known there was a lady involved, and if I have to cop to grabbing you, I’ll tell the judge and all in the courtroom about her, too. Lovely piece, she was. Pity to besmirch her reputation an’ all, but if you’re set on trying me…” Vince shrugged. “Well, all I can say is it won’t be my fault if she gets ruined in the process.”
Martin leaned his arms on the table and lowered his head so his eyes were level with Vince’s. “If you wish to see the inside of any courtroom,” he said, his voice low, quiet, his tone utterly deadly, “I suggest you forget you ever laid eyes on my fiancée.”
Trapped by Martin’s gaze, unable to look away, Vince blinked, several times.
Martin sat back and smoothly went on, “However, what whoever it was who put that idea into your head failed to mention is that as my fiancée was withmethe entire time—and your own men will testify to that—there is no scandal to be avoided. All you mentioning her will achieve is to guarantee you a trip to the gallows for abducting a high-born lady.”
Vince swallowed. Even when Martin glanced at Curtin, Vince couldn’t seem to shift his gaze, transfixed by the lethal menace Martin had exuded.
Curtin met Martin’s eyes and, after successfully fighting back a grin, turned his head to gaze levelly at Vince. “As it happens, Vince, we’re very much interested in identifying and having a little chat with the man who gave you your orders, both with regard to the accidents at Carmichael Steelworks and also the kidnapping of those you and your men so unwisely seized.” Curtin glanced at the file open before him. “And I believe there’s a matter of IOUs being used as blackmail to induce a well-born member of Sheffield society to commit a criminal deed, although I believe we’ve enough to be going on with in terms of charges. So”—with Martin having leaned back, Curtin had succeeded in reclaiming Vince’s attention—“let’s get down to the nuts and bolts, shall we? I’m in a position to lighten your charges if you can give us solid information about the man who hired you.”
Oliver added, “We already have a detailed description. We wish to learn the man’s name and where he can be found.”
His gaze on Vince, Curtin nodded. “You must know both.”
Vince stared, blinked, and stared some more as his expression grew bleaker and bleaker.
Puzzled, Curtin arched a brow. “Come now, Vince. That’s not such a great thing to ask.”
When, plainly torn, Vince still hesitated, Martin said, “By giving you the orders he did, this man has used you and your men in a very dangerous game. Dangerous to you and your men as much as to anyone else. It was a hugely risky campaign, but as it was you and your men who would get caught, the man who hired you had little to lose—unless you tell us his name. That will take the weight of the charges off you and your men and lay that weight where it correctly belongs—on him.”
“So,” Curtin gently prompted, “who was it, Vince?”
Oliver added, “All you need to do is tell us his name.”
Vince opened his mouth, then forced it shut again. He looked at the three of them, then shook his head. “You don’t understand. I would if I could, but I daren’t.”
