To Seduce a Sinner (Legend of the Four Soldiers #2)(93)

Mr. Horn knocked all the papers from the desk. They fell in a scattered heap, some of the smaller papers fluttering like landing birds. “A letter. My letter. Vale stole it from me. Where is it?”

“I . . . I don’t—”

He pressed closer to her, the gun between them, and caught her face in his left hand, squeezing painfully. His eyes sparkled with tears. “He’s a thief and a blackmailer. I thought he was my friend. I thought . . .” He squeezed his eyes shut and then opened them to glare at her and say fiercely, “I’ll not be ruined by him, do you hear? Tell me where the paper is, where he might’ve hid it, or I’ll feel no sorrow in killing you.”

Melisande trembled. He was going to kill her. She had no illusions that she would live through this. But if Jasper came home now, he might be killed as well. That realization marshaled her thoughts. The farther Mr. Horn was from the front door, the more time Vale would have to realize the danger when he returned home.

She licked her lips. “His bedroom. I . . . I think in his bedroom.”

Without a word, Mr. Horn grasped her by the back of the neck and shoved her into the hall ahead of him. The pistol was still pressed to her side. The hall seemed deserted, and Melisande gave a prayer of thanks. She didn’t know how Mr. Horn would react to a servant. He might very well shoot anyone he saw.

They climbed the steps in tandem, his hand pinching the back of her neck painfully. At the top of the stairs, Melisande turned and her heart nearly stopped. Suchlike was just coming out of her room.

“My lady?” Suchlike said in a confused voice. She looked from Melisande to Mr. Horn.

Melisande spoke rapidly before her captor could speak. “What are you doing here, girl? I told you to have my riding habit sponged and pressed by noon.”

Suchlike’s eyes widened. Melisande had never spoken to her so harshly before. And then things got worse. Behind the maid, Mouse poked his nose out of the room and scrambled into the hall. He raced toward Melisande and Mr. Horn, barking madly.

Melisande felt Mr. Horn move as if to pull the pistol from her side. Mouse was at her feet now, and she acted quickly, kicking poor Mouse away. The dog yelped in pain and confusion and sprawled onto his back.

Melisande looked at Suchlike. “Take this dog with you to the kitchens. Do it now. And make sure you ready my riding habit, or I’ll dismiss you this afternoon.”

Suchlike had never liked Mouse, but she scrambled forward and hastily scooped the terrier into her arms. She ran past Melisande and Mr. Horn, her eyes filled with tears.

Melisande exhaled when the maid was out of sight.

“Very nice,” Mr. Horn said. “Now where is Vale’s bedroom?”

Melisande pointed to the room, and Mr. Horn dragged her toward it. She had another leap of fear as he opened the door. What if Mr. Pynch was inside? She had no idea where the manservant was.

But the room was empty.

Mr. Horn hauled her toward the dresser and began throwing Vale’s neatly folded neck cloths to the ground.

“He was there when they tortured me. They tied him to a stake and held his head so he had to watch. I almost felt more sorry for him than for me.” He stopped suddenly and inhaled. “I can still see those blue eyes of his filling with grief while they burned my chest. He knows what it was like. He knows what they did to me. He knows it took the British army two hellish weeks to deign to ransom us.”

“You blame Jasper for your wounds,” Melisande whispered.

“Don’t be a witless fool,” he snapped. “Vale could no more help what was done to him than we could help what was done to us. What I blame him for is his betrayal. He of all people should understand why I did what I did.”

Having emptied the chest of drawers, he dragged her to the wardrobe. “He knows what it was like. He was there. How dare he judge me? How dare he?”

Melisande saw that his eyes were ice-cold and determined, and the sight froze her with terror. Mr. Horn was cornered, and it was only a matter of time until he found that she’d lied.

BY THE TIME Jasper made it home, his heart was nearly pounding through his chest with fear. He flung his horse’s reins to a boy and leapt the steps without waiting for Pynch. He threw open his front doors and went in, only to skid to a stop.

Melisande’s maid was clutching Mouse and weeping in the hall. Surrounding her were Oaks and two footmen.

Oaks turned at Jasper’s entrance, his face drawn and lined. “My lord! We think Lady Vale is in trouble.”

“Where is she?” Jasper demanded.

“Upstairs,” the maid gasped. Mouse wriggled hard in her arms, trying to get down. “There’s a man with her, and oh, my lord, I think he has a gun.”

Jasper’s blood froze in his veins, painful ice crystallizing. No. Christ, no.

“Where did you see them, Sally?” Pynch said from beside Jasper.

“At the top of the stairs,” Suchlike said. “Outside your rooms, my lord£ rode .”

Mouse finally gave such a desperate lurch that she gasped and dropped him to the floor. The dog ran to Jasper and barked once before scampering toward the stairs. He jumped to the first step and barked again.

“Stay here,” Jasper said to the servants. “If he sees too many . . .” He trailed off, not wanting to say aloud the awful possibility.

He started for the stairs.