Chapter Twenty-Five
Grief crashed over Alex in waves. Stockwell’s confession sickened her. She fought the bitter emotions, the fear that weakened her.
Stripping the feeling from her words, she kept her voice low. “Your father was a good man. He did not deserve any of this.”
“Who are you to judge me? You’re little more than Marlsbrook’s harlot.” Stockwell brandished the knife in his hand, seeming to savor her fear. Chills coursed over her skin, along her spine, but she held her chin high. Damned if she’d give this jackal the satisfaction of seeing her terror.
“If you touch her, I will kill you.” Benedict kept his voice low and steady, even as he took a step closer. Then another. “Don’t think I won’t pull this trigger.”
“You can try.” Menace flavored Stockwell’s words. “But Iwilltake her with me.”
As he spoke, Nelson entered the room. Keeping to the shadows, he prowled toward Benedict. Rivulets of gaslight reflected off the steel of his revolver.
“Benedict, behind you!” she cried in warning.
“Ever devoted, eh, Alexandra?” Stockwell’s mouth twisted in ugly amusement.
Benedict kept his weapon trained on Stockwell. “You won’t pull that trigger, Nelson. You’re not that great a fool.”
“Bugger off,” Nelson sneered. “You’re going to leave this place in a pine box.”
“Is that so?” Benedict’s tone exhibited no fear, no emotion. “This bastard is using you as his attack dog. Have you considered why he’s involved you in this? Only a fool would believe Stockwell intends to give you a cut of the riches.”
“We have a bargain,” Nelson said.
“Honor among thieves? I wouldn’t count on it,” Benedict taunted. “As soon as Stockwell gets what he wants, he’ll leave you to the hangman.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Nelson demanded from his spot in the shadows.
“He’ll say anything to distract you,” Stockwell said. “He’s desperate.”
“I have no reason to lie,” Benedict replied evenly. “You know the truth as well as I do, Nelson. The bastard has taken you for a fool, a mere puppet to do his bidding. From the beginning, he’s engineered this scenario to leave himself beyond suspicion. After all, who would suspect a grief-stricken son? He’s played his cards with cunning and skill, I’ll give him that. And now, all that’s left is to tie up the loose ends and sit back while you’re executed for his crimes.”
Nelson moved closer. Rage filled his eyes. “Shut your bloody mouth before I shut it for you.”
“I am not the one who wants to see you swing,” Benedict went on. “Have you considered your role in this scheme? Any logical man would have hired a common thug to abduct Miss Quinn. But instead, Stockwell sent you. During the light of day, no less. Witnesses have provided your description. You are a known criminal, a smuggler. No judge nor jury would doubt you’d committed murder to conceal your crimes.”
As Benedict spoke, distracting both Nelson and Stockwell, Alex twisted her right wrist hard. Biting back the pain, she squirmed against the rope. Slowly, she pulled through the loop. One arm free. With her left hand, she held the dangling end of the rope, creating the illusion she was still bound. The element of surprise would work to her advantage. Now, if only she could reach the ropes that secured her ankles to the chair. Straining, she reached the knot binding the tethers in place. Her fingertips brushed the cord, grazing the rough surface. Her nails dug into the fibers, tugging at the heart of the knot.
Stockwell slanted her a glance. She stilled. Did he suspect what she’d done?
His gaze swept over her. Her breath caught in her throat. His attention darted to Benedict before settling on the man who’d acted as his henchman.
“You will be the one to meet the hangman, Marlsbrook. That high-and-mighty title won’t do you any good,” Nelson blustered. A note of fear edged his words. Benedict’s efforts to sow doubt and turn the criminal’s allegiance was working.
“I would not be so sure of that. Do you truly believe Stockwell intends to set me up as the guilty party? Are you really such a fool?” Benedict slowly shook his head. “If he has his way, I will be in no condition to meet the hangman. After all, the executioner does not ply his trade on a dead man. It won’t be me on the gallows. You will be the one swinging from a noose.”
Nelson turned to Stockwell. “Is he telling the truth? Tell me, damn it.”
Stockwell eyed him with contempt. “You bloody oaf, he’ll say anything to save her.”
“If you do his bidding,youwill be the one to pay the price,” Benedict said. “But with my last breath, I will pull this trigger and send him to hell.”
His quiet courage instilled her with pride. Her heart was filled with love, even as it throbbed in misery at the thought she might lose him.
“Enough of this,” Stockwell gritted out each word. “Get it over with. Kill him. Then take the bloody map.”
Distrust flared in Nelson’s eyes. He slowly shook his head. “Do your own killing. I’ll settle up with you later. You owe me a debt. And you will pay.”
