With a candle in her hand, she made her way down to James’s study, intending to retrieve the letters Mrs. Denton had sent her father and reread them.
But as she entered the darkened study, she froze.
Mr. North was sitting behind James’s desk, his hair disheveled, his posture slack, and his torqued expression desperate.
He lifted a pistol directly at her.
Should she scream? Cry? Run?
Shock threatened to silence her, and yet her voice squeaked out. “What on earth are you doing?”
He eased to his feet, his pistol still steady. “I wouldn’t make a single noise if I were you. Not a peep. Close the door.”
Hands trembling and without taking her eyes off him, she obeyed.
“Now that we are alone, why don’t you put down that candle, sit down, and we’ll have a little chat.”
Resisting the urge to panic, Cassandra complied. It would not do to lose her head.
The simmering fire’s light reflected orange onto his features. Stubble grew on his normally clean-shaven jaw and sweat glistened on his pallid brow. “Shepard and your beau entered my house. Why?”
She shook her head. “I—I don’t know.”
“I don’t believe you,” he spat back. “Why don’t you try answering me again.”
She summoned courage. “I know what you did.”
“Oh, you do?” He chuckled. “And what was that?”
“You knew about me. You knew I was Robert Clark’s daughter from the beginning.”
“Of course I did. I’ve seen the will. And I was at Robert Clark’s deathbed. Of course I was. I’m the vicar. Men talk on their deathbed. They talk about their regrets. And he talked about you.”
Rage seethed. “Why did you try to hide it?”
“I think you know the answer to that question, don’t you?”
“Your uncle is Edward Stricklin, isn’t he?”
“Yes, he is. I’m Stricklin’s heir.” He flung his arms out, as if amused. “I’m the heir to an inheritance that is entirely dependent upon a young chit never showing up to claim it.”
“So you weren’t being kind to me at all. You were trying to prevent me from finding this out.”
“You are the clever one.” Sarcasm dripped from his tone. “To be honest, I thought you would have figured it out long before this.”
“But why are you here then?”
“Because you are costing me a considerable fortune. That land is mine. Clark owed it to my family. To me. My birthright.” His tone darkened. “I will get what is owed to me.”
“But I have no money. You, more than anyone, know that.”
“No, you don’t. But your suitor does.”
“James has nothing to do with this.”
“James, is it? Well, well. It must be more serious than I thought. But believe me when I say that I’ll get the money I am owed, one way or another.”
She stared at him. Perspiration beaded on her brow, and her breath started to heave in ragged puffs. The reality of the situation, and the truth about how sinister this man was, sank in deeper with each second.
He lifted the pistol once again in a dramatic display, as if taking aim. “Let’s just wait to see what James has to say about that.”
* * *
James and his horse thundered back over the bridge, slicing through the fog, every hoofbeat echoing from the canopy of bare branches and midnight sky. The constable and magistrate were organizing a search for the vicar. His own pulse was racing. He intended to help them with the search. Right after he retrieved his pistol.
Once he arrived in the courtyard, he slid from his horse and jogged to the house and into the corridor toward his study to retrieve it from the chest. The memory of the horrible incident of finding Longham’s body flamed anew. It was not safe while he was out there, vicar or not.
James flung open his study door, but the sight that met him stunned him into stillness.
Cassandra was seated in a chair.
And Mr. North was pointing a pistol at her.
She gazed at him, wide-eyed and pale, but said nothing.
“What are you doing?” James demanded when his words finally returned.
“Did you find what you were looking for?” North asked, his voice unnervingly calm.
James huffed. “What are you talking about?”
“In the vicarage. I saw you. And Shepard. You seemed quite intent upon finding something. So I ask, did you find it?”
“We know what’s happened, North. We know you were involved in Longham’s death. The best thing you can do now is stop this nonsense.”
North chuckled. “That is where you and I differ, Warrington. I see this as exactly the opportunity to right what has been wronged.”
At the sight of Cassandra’s fear, fresh anger seared through him. He would not argue with this man. Not while he had a pistol pointed at Cassandra. “What is it you want?”
“My inheritance. Mine.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“Oh, it makes all the sense in the world. Rest assured, I will get what I am owed. You will see to that. You’re going to give me the equivalent.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Aren’t you?” North lifted the pistol again and clicked his tongue. “A pity. I guess she’ll just have to come with me until I feel compensated, one way or the other. But if we leave, you must know you will never hear from either of us again. So what will it be?”
The reality of this man’s vile words sank in. “You would never get away with something like that.”
North jerked Cassandra up by the arm.
Fresh fear flashed across her features.
James took a step forward, and North tightened his grip on her.
He had to think. His couldn’t reach his pistol. He had some money he could give him and Elizabeth’s jewelry, but it was nowhere near the amount the land was worth. He had to try. “There, there is my strongbox. Behind you. I’ll open it. The contents are yours.”
Suddenly a high-pitched voice cried from the chamber’s entrance, “Let her go!”
They all whirled to see Rachel in the doorway, a pistol of her own pointed at North.
A flurry of activity burst forth.
Cassandra, taking advantage of the break in concentration, pushed on North’s arm, shoving the pistol upward.
It discharged and a bullet hit the ceiling. Plaster rained down on them in heavy, powdery chards.
Cassandra then bit North’s hand. He howled.
Seizing his opportunity, James lunged toward North and shoved him to the ground, pinning him until he could smack the gun away.
Cassandra grabbed the dropped pistol and then rushed to Rachel.
With the weapon eliminated the men continued to fight. They were physically evenly matched, until at length, James landed a punch on North’s jaw and he fell back, stunned. James lunged forward again, turned North over, and pinned his arms behind him. He thrashed, but James’s grip was firm.
“A rope, quickly!”
Within minutes Rachel returned with a curtain tie. With Cassandra pointing the gun at North, James secured him to the chair, and then he took control of the gun from Cassandra.
“Well,” James huffed, his breath heavy from the exertion, forcing North’s stare. “It seems we’ve had quite the turn of events.”