Page 94 of A Rogue to Watch Over Me
Amelia’s knees threatened to go weak. “And Helen... you had her killed?”
“I took care of that troublesome loose end with my own hands.” Mansfield’s half-smile chilled her blood. “I could have eliminated her some time ago, but I suspected she could lead me to the Caravelli sketch. Mr. Smith gained her trust. Rather ironic, really. The fortune teller could not foresee that her benefactor meant only to betray her.”
The Lovers.Suddenly, the tarot card made sense. Amelia’s pulse thundered in her ears. “You had no reason to kill her.”
“She left me no choice. I couldn’t chance her carrying tales.”
Amelia gulped a breath, bracing herself against the horror of Mansfield’s cold-blooded confession. But she could not give in to her shock and her fear. “If I give you the drawing, how can I be certain we will not share her fate?”
“Life offers no guarantees,” he said. “But if you make me wait much longer, I will put a bullet in this woman’s brain. Won’t that be a pretty sight?”
Amelia’s stomach knotted. “Very well,” she said. “But please, lower the gun.”
“Get me the bloody sketch.”
“I’ll give you the drawing. It’s here.” She went to the cabinet, angling her body to conceal her actions. “I have it... it’s in here.” Slowly, she opened the drawer. Her derringer lay beneath the pouch that contained the sketch. Her heart hammered wildly. She was a good shot, but with Mrs. Langford in such a vulnerable position, she could not take the chance. Not yet. Not until she’d convinced him to free her.
Careful to conceal her weapon with the pouch, she lifted both from the drawer. With one subtle motion, she slipped the small gun inside the pocket of her jacket.
Holding the bag close to cover any telltale lump in the coat, she turned back to him.
“Let her go. And it will be yours.”
“Show me the blasted thing. Before I lose patience.” He ground out the words.
Summoning every ounce of courage she possessed, she edged toward the fireplace. “I propose a bargain.”
“Bargain?” Mansfield’s voice was raw with scorn. “The time for that has passed.”
“A simple negotiation.” She stood close by the hearth now, near enough to feel the heat of the crackling flames. “Something you need, in exchange for something I need.”
“What in hell’s name would that be?”
“Release Mrs. Langford. Empty the chambers of your weapon. Then, and only then, will I give you the sketch.”
“And if I refuse?”
“If you will not honor this simple request, I’ll know your intentions. In that case, there will be nothing to lose if I toss this drawing—I presume you know its worth—into the fire.”
“You are playing a risky game.” His voice was low, his anger tightly controlled.
“Am I, now?” She fought to hold her voice steady. “The way I see it, the moment I give you what you want, you will have no reason to let us live. But if you let her go, we may be able to come to an agreement.”
He regarded her with cold, impassive eyes. “I was right. You do have far more backbone than Paul ever did.”
She swallowed hard against a sudden surge of fury. He was trying to goad her. If she lost control of her emotions, he would win.
“Do you really think it wise to taunt me?” She dangled the parchment closer to the hearth. “We both know what will happen the moment these flames touch this old, dry paper.”
He scowled. “Very well. We will play the game your way. For now.”
He lowered his weapon and gave Mrs. Langford a vicious shove. Stumbling over her skirts, she rushed to Mrs. Johnstone’s side and knelt beside her friend.
A silent prayer for strength whispered in Amelia’s thoughts. Never had she imagined she would be forced into such a dangerous standoff.
Her heart raced, but she held her focus on Mansfield. “Remove the bullets. Toss the gun away. Now.”
“I think not,” Mansfield said with a chilling absence of emotion. “I’ve come up with a better plan.”
