Ellie quelled a shudder and managed a nod.
Jeffers faintly winced and looked at her father. “I’m afraid that, in accepting your hospitality last Sunday, I did have something of an ulterior motive. I was curious about the Hinckleys and the relationship between you and Masterton. I had no idea he would turn up as well.” His tone turned apologetic. “It’s possible my presence further spooked him—when I left, he came racing after me to warn me away from Hinckley Hall.”
Godfrey grunted. “You being in the vicinity and calling in his loans might have undermined his confidence to some degree, but it was me confirming the painting he’d switched was a fake and saying I intended to speak with the forger that was the ultimate trigger for today’s events.”
Ellie’s father stirred. “Regardless, you both were behaving in good faith and as circumstances required. Neither of you are in any way to blame for Masterton’s actions.”
“He’s an adult,” Harry all but growled. “No one pushed him to steal the Albertinelli or to try to marry Ellie and plot God only knows what else. He made his own decisions—he bears the responsibility for them.”
“Hear, hear,” Pyne said.
Everyone else nodded.
“If I might ask,” her father inquired of Jeffers, “how much does Masterton owe your firm?”
“Just over one thousand pounds.” Jeffers paused, then continued, “Having studied Mr. Masterton’s borrowing habits over the past ten and more years, Thornton and I fully expected to write off the debt. We didn’t believe Masterton would ever pay it—I seriously doubt that, these days, any other moneylender would accept him as a client.”
After a second plainly gathering his thoughts, Jeffers went on, “So that’s how I came to know Masterton, and he, me. Today, he came and found me—he’d guessed I was staying at the inn at Kirkby Malzeard while visiting clients in the area. He told me that all I had to do was go with him, and he would be able to repay the money he owed the firm.” A cynical smile played across Jeffers’s face. “Given what occurred, it seems fairly clear that, despite all I had told him of our firm, Masterton believed I was…I suppose one might say the bully boy for another moneylender like Cawley, and as such, that I would be amenable to using violence to achieve my supposed master’s ends.”
“That,” Ellie said, “is why he kept referring to ‘your master.’”
Jeffers nodded.
Godfrey stirred. “If you had been a bully boy from another moneylender, today might not have gone our way.”
“No.” Jeffers met Godfrey’s gaze. “But luckily, Masterton made a mistake.” Jeffers looked at the others. “So that’s how I came to walk into the attic with Masterton. To everyone’s shock, he then produced a gun and insisted I shoot dead both Lord Godfrey and Miss Hinckley.”
Morris’s, Pyne’s, and her father’s jaws sagged. Eventually, Pyne remarked, “‘Great heavens’ and ‘Good Lord’ really aren’t exclamation enough.”
Ellie’s father’s expression turned thunderous. “That bounder! To shoot people—take their lives—just for money?” He drew in a deep breath and, lips pinched, shook his head. “I always wondered from where he got his funds, but I never imagined—”
“That those funds were actually ours? Got by selling Mama’s painting? By borrowing against—essentially mortgaging—the Hall itself?” Harry looked disgusted. “Bounder is far too weak a word.”
No one disagreed.
Kemp appeared in the open doorway; when Ellie’s father looked his way, the butler announced, “We have secured Mr. Masterton in the room off the scullery, sir. We have also boarded up the external door in the old summer parlor—we discovered the lock had been forced. Mr. Masterton has regained consciousness and is demanding to be set free and, if not that, then allowed to see you, sir.”
“Thank you, Kemp.” Ellie’s father glanced around the circle of faces, then returned his gaze to Kemp. “You may tell Mr. Masterton that we are presently discussing his future. He will be informed of the outcome of our deliberations in due course.”
Kemp very nearly smiled. He bowed deeply. “Indeed, sir.” With that, he turned and strode off, plainly relishing his role.
Ellie glanced at her father. His chair was too far away for her to reach over and squeeze his hand, but from his tone, she knew Masterton’s betrayal had cut him deeply; he was always one to think the best of every man, and Masterton had wormed his way into his affections by playing on their kinship.
Discovering that Masterton had stolen the Albertinelli and had deceived them in so many ways was, for a man as open, honest, and true as Matthew Hinckley, a bitter and distressing pill to swallow.
“We haven’t yet heard what happened after Masterton pulled out a gun,” Morris prompted.
Ellie might have viewed such blatant curiosity unkindly, but she caught the glance Morris—and Pyne, too—threw her father. They knew how he was feeling and sought to distract him and everyone else.
Friends—the three were very old friends.
She looked at Godfrey. He’d seen the silent exchange as well and smoothly said, “Masterton tried, unsuccessfully, to get Jeffers to shoot us. While they argued, assuming the gun would be pointed at me first, I tried to edge away from Ellie, around the wall toward some boxes, but then Masterton saw that I’d moved. He grabbed the gun and shot in my direction, but Ellie”—he flicked her a glance laden with suppressed emotion—“flung herself in the bullet’s path. That’s how she came to be shot.”
“I had intended to push Godfrey out of the bullet’s path, but I tripped and ended in the way myself.” She quickly continued, “Then Harry and Maggie burst into the room.” She frowned at the pair. “How did you even come to be there?”
Harry glanced at Maggie, then said, “You came and asked if we’d seen Lord Godfrey or Masterton, and we hadn’t. We thought it odd they’d both vanished, and after you left, we talked about where they might have gone.”
“I was sitting in the window seat.” Maggie took over. “I went back to reading my book, but then I saw Masterton and Mr. Jeffers walking through the park.”
“We couldn’t think where they were going,” Harry said. “We watched and—”
“We saw them going into the old wing.” Remembered excitement filled Maggie’s voice.
Harry threw her a disapproving look. “We couldn’t imagine what they were doing.”
Undeterred, Maggie blurted, “So we rushed around, into the old wing.”
“We were in time to hear them going up the attic stairs,” Harry said.
“We crept along behind.” Maggie paused, her expression sobering. “When we got to the attic door, we heard Masterton ordering Mr. Jeffers to shoot Ellie and Godfrey. We huddled on the landing and tried to think what to do.”
“But then everything happened at once—a shot rang out, and we ran in to see what was happening and stop it.” Harry faintly grimaced. “Masterton pointed the gun at us.” Harry looked at Maggie, then at his father. “Masterton would have shot us, but Godfrey knocked the gun up, and the shot went into the roof.”