Page 51 of A Lady's Wicked Revenge
Jerome Arnold nodded. “As did I.” Though he was but a slim, spindly man of middle age, he folded his arms in what was likely the most imposing posture he could manage.
Sir James sneered. “Colin, please see our guest to the door. He is no longer welcome here at this evening’s festivities. Miss Hann can be escorted back to her room, where she will collect herself until such time as I am ready to speak with her.”
Colin folded his arms, chin raised defiantly. His stepfather received this like a physical blow, and Colin could see the man stagger backward in a daze. “I see. So, you’ve all betrayed me, then.”
“Us?” Diana barked, stepping closer to Sir James in an outraged posture. “After you confess to murdering your own family, to stealing from your ward, youdareaccuse anyone else of disloyalty?”
His moustache twitching erratically, Sir James’ eyes jumped from Jerome to Diana and back again. “I … I don’t know …” he stammered. Colin could see that the man’s knees were shaking, his balance clearly unsteady.
“Sir, perhaps you should sit down for a moment,” Colin said gently, reaching out for his stepfather’s shoulder to guide him to a chair.
The older man lashed out with a fist, nearly connecting with Colin right in his jaw. “Unhand me, traitor! Don’t you lay a hand on me, or so help me, I’ll …”
“Sir James,” said Jerome Arnold in a quiet yet firm voice, all eyes turning to the old bookkeeper. “There is no need for violence this evening. None of us wish for blood to be shed, especially among family.”
Diana snarled, “Nomoreblood, you mean, you—” But she was silenced by a gentle raise of Jerome’s hand.
“Whatever follows is in the hands of God and the King’s justice,” Jerome continued, his steady voice seeming to have a pacifying effect on the aggravated gentleman. “You should know that I’ve sent for the authorities, and I expect armed representatives of the law will be arriving shortly. When that occurs, I will do my best to ensure you are escorted away as discreetly as possible, to maintain your dignity and preserve the safety of all—”
“No!” blurted Sir James, recoiling from the man’s words as a cat scalded by boiling water. He backed up until he was pressed against the far wall, hands held up in a desperate attempt to defend himself. “No, no, no! Judas! Betrayers, all of you!”
Colin eyed him warily, watching Sir James’ eyes search the room for anything that could be used as a weapon. Before he could say anything, he saw Diana step closer, a look of vicious judgement flashing in her eyes. She opened her mouth to loose another accusation at her villainous guardian, but before any sound could issue forth, the man reached out to something on his desk and charged at her.
“Diana, look out!” Colin shouted, rushing forward and pushing her out of the way with his shoulder. Even as she landed roughly on the floor, he saw something glitter in his stepfather’s hand, which lashed out towards his face.
Someone screamed just as Colin caught Sir James’ hand, stopping a wicked-looking letter opener just before it could plunge into Colin’s heart. The older man moved faster than Colin had expected, and even as he held the dagger away from its mark, Sir James brought up a fist into his stepson’s chin.
Colin grunted and staggered backward, dazed. Trying to recover his bearings, his eyes fell upon a shape moving towards the prone form of Diana sprawled on the floor, and before he knew what he was doing, Colin swung out his foot. It connected with something hard, and there was a sickening thump as Sir James fell headlong onto the floor.
In a flash, he was upon Sir James, protectiveness of Diana filling his limbs with the strength of ten men. Sir James fought like a madman, his limbs lashing out savagely, but Colin held him fast, pinning his arms and legs to the ground with his own body weight and holding his stepfather by the collar there on the floor. Jerome and Diana stood by, paralyzed by this violent display.
“You wretched dog,” Sir James spat, his mouth red with blood. Hate roiled in his eyes as he looked up at Colin. “I ought to have let you and your bitch of a mother die in the streets. To think I wasted my precious time and money trying to teach a cur like you how a man is supposed to act.”
Colin’s breath came fast and heavy, and he felt his fists shaking even as he held his stepfather firmly in his grasp. He was overcome with a powerful desire to smash the man’s head against his desk or to pummel him until his evil words were stopped … but in three heartbeats’ time, he instead let the man drop against the floor, where he lolled helplessly with his head half-propped against the foot of his desk.
“You taught me better than you know, sir,” Colin said, wiping away a trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth.
Grunting with pain, Sir James sat up with his back against his desk. He dabbed a sore place on the back of his head and recoiled at the blood he found staining his fingers, then cast a malignant look at Diana, who had climbed back to her feet.
“I suppose you’re happy now, aren’t you?” Sir James snarled. “Now that you’ve turned everyone against me somehow, you mean to take everything I’ve worked for, all for—”
“Uncle James, it’s time for you to stop talking,” Diana snapped, a regal tone in her voice that Colin had never heard before. To his surprise, he saw that these few brief words silenced Sir James immediately, and the older man’s eyes were wide with fear.
“James!” Colin turned to see his mother, Priscilla, entering the room with her hands wringing a silk handkerchief in consternation. She stood in the doorway, her eyes fluttering in confusion, as she took in the scene of chaos in her husband’s study. “My God, what’s happened?”
Jerome Arnold stepped forward as he straightened his tie. “Missus Leeson, I’m afraid there’s something you should know. If you’d like to step outside here, I’d be glad to explain everything …”
“No.” Colin’s voice was firm, his posture tall, though he felt himself crumbling inside. He approached his mother and offered her his hand, guiding her to an empty chair by the fireside even as Sir James looked on with hatred in his eyes. Priscilla allowed herself to be helped into a seat, though she seemed on the verge of tears.
“Mother,” Colin said softly. “We’ve … just discovered that Sir James has done something terrible.” He drew in a long breath, closing his eyes as he searched his mind for how to give voice to the unspeakable. “Mother, Sir James had Diana’s parents killed. He arranged their carriage wreck and has been stealing Diana’s inheritance ever since she was brought here.”
“What?” Priscilla asked in a barely audible voice. She struggled to draw breath, looking at her husband with fearful eyes. “I … no, James. No, it’s not true. It can’t be. It’s not possible; you would never do such a … Tell me it’s not true, James, that you didn’t …”
Sir James took a breath that became a pained hiss, and he turned himself away from his wife’s eyes as he grumbled something incoherent under his breath.
An agonised, inhuman moan issued forth from Priscilla’s throat. She pitched forward in her seat, and Colin reached out to catch her before she collapsed onto the floor. But just as quickly as this spirit had come upon her, she seemed to fade into a cold numbness. Her face transmuted into a stiff, placid mask, though tears still rolled down her reddened cheeks.
“It was the night of that terrible storm this past April, wasn’t it?” Priscilla asked blankly. “That was what you were talking about with that awful Bertrand fellow, why you and he spoke so late into the night. I knew you were involved in something for the worse, James, but your ownsister?”
