The Strange Case of Finley Jayne (Steampunk Chronicles 0.5)(24)

It was a horrible assumption, one she hoped was wrong, but the second the accusation left her lips, Lord Vincent smiled an awful smile. “Nosy and smart. Never a good combination, my girl.”

Rage swelled up inside her. Who did he think he was, God? “I can’t let you do this. I won’t.” She clenched her fists at her sides.

More of that self-satisfied smirk. “And I won’t allow you to stop me.” Suddenly he had a pistol in his hand, pointed at her head. It was one of those six-shooters like the cowboys in America used. It was deadly, but at least it wasn’t one of his fancy inventions. “I know you’re fast, and much stronger than you ought to be, but even you aren’t faster than a bullet.”

Hadn’t she thought the same thing the other day? “You don’t know anything about me.”

“I know you destroyed my precious horses in a way even a circus strong man would not have been able to. I know you single-handedly fought off men armed with a pistol and knife.”

How did he know exactly what weapons they had? Neither she nor the other women involved had mentioned that—hadn’t wanted to bring more attention to her than necessary.

“You hired them to attack us.” Disbelief dripped from her words. “You could have killed your own fiancée.”

“They had strict orders not to harm Phoebe, but you and Lady Morton, not so much. Don’t look at me like that. I had to know what you were capable of. I had to know what I was up against so I could protect what I’ve worked so hard to achieve.”

“You’re bloody mad.”

“Perhaps. Have you ever been in love, Miss Bennet? No, of course not. You’re but a child. What do you know of love?” He sneered at her, but there was pity in his eyes, as well. “I loved my wife. I love her still. And now I have been given a chance to make everything right. I can make her forgive me.”

“You think she’s going to thank you for shoving her brain in someone else’s body?” He really was insane.

“It will be like having her own body back. Phoebe is the spitting image of Cassandra when she was young. Once I give life back to her, she’ll forgive me for taking it away from her in the first place.”

That was a surprise. Had he killed her? “Lady Morton said it was a carriage accident.”

“It was, much like the one you and Phoebe almost had. We were driving home in the snow, and the horses I’d built malfunctioned. We went over a small ravine. I survived. Cassandra did not.”

“That still sounds like an accident to me.” Not that she felt sorry for the lunatic, but he hadn’t been in control of the situation.

“If I had been more intelligent…” His voice cracked. “If I had done a better job, the horses would not have malfunctioned.”

She shrugged. “They malfunctioned at the park, too. What did you do wrong there?”

He shook his head, scowling. “I don’t know.”

“So, if you’re not ‘intelligent’ enough to make metal horses work, do you really think you can make a brain transfer work?”

Lord Vincent stilled, all of the frustration in his expression melting away to pure, determined rage. “I will bring Cassandra back.” He raised the pistol once more, so that it was pointed right at her forehead. “I will have my wife’s forgiveness, and you will not stop me.”

Some deep instinct told Finley to duck even before he pulled the trigger. As it was, she felt the bullet as it whizzed above her, just inches from her head. She hid behind the metal door of Lady Vincent’s frozen tomb.

“How are you going to explain my death, Lord Vincent? Lady Morton knows where I am.”

“Let her go to the police. They will think she’s mad. And they wouldn’t dare search my house. Even if they did, I could have all of this easily concealed. No one will care about you, Miss Bennet. Or should I say, Miss Jayne?”

Finley didn’t react to the sound of her real name. It didn’t matter how he had found out. All that mattered was getting out of this alive. She shrugged. “Whichever you prefer, my lord.”

His smug expression mixed with irritation. “It’s not as though you are really of noble blood, are you? You’re just some freakish little girl Lady Morton hired because she doesn’t like me.”

“That might have something to do with the fact that you plan to give her daughter a new brain!” Finley shouted.

Another shot. This one bounced off the door. She bolted from behind it and dived behind the surgical table. She had to get to him, overpower him.

He fired off three more shots, each of which ricocheted off equipment. One grazed Finley’s shoulder, drawing blood. She cried out.

“Got you, did I?” came Lord Vincent’s pleased tone. “Come on out, dear girl, and I’ll make your death quick.”

One more bullet, Finley thought. That’s all he has. There was a spindly sort of stand next to her that looked like a skeletal coatrack on wheels. She kicked the base of it and it went flying across the room. Startled, Lord Vincent fired another shot at it.

Six. That was it. He was out of bullets.

Before he could reload, Finley lunged to her feet and threw herself at him. He looked up from shoving more bullets into the pistol with a horrified expression.

She hit him hard, sending both of them crashing into the workbench. The tank shuddered. Lady Vincent’s brain bobbed wildly. Suddenly, Finley knew what to do. There was only one way to end this without either she or Lord Vincent dying.