Page 73 of A Duke Under Her Spell
“Short of blowing it up that door is not going to move,” Alexander growled. “We have no choice but to turn back.”
“No, I will not…” Felix’s words faded away as an idea dawned. “You said nothing short of blowing it up.”
“Yes…”
“So that is exactly what we will do.”
“And how do you propose we go about performing this miraculous explosion without the proper materials?”
“Gunpowder and fire.” Felix held up his pistol and torch to punctuate his words. “One of the men was carrying a matchlock instead of a flintlock. I can use the powder in the pan. It is not enough to make an actual explosion, but it might be enough to damage the door.”
A light dawned in Alexander’s eyes and he smiled wickedly in approval. “Oh, yes,” he nodded his head. “I very much enjoy the way you think.”
Felix withdrew a handkerchief from his vest pocket and poured the powder from the matchlock onto it. He then twisted the powder up into the cloth and wedged it into the wooden seam of the door. Placing the torch against the fabric, he stepped back and watched it burn. The flash was blinding in the darkness; though not explosive, it did make a bit of noise and sections of the wood fell away.
Felix peered up through the hole and found that a chair had been wedged up against the trapdoor handle, but the disruption of the gunpowder had caused it to move just enough that they could push the door open. Felix and Alexander gave the door a mighty shove and the chair moved the rest of the way off of the door. The door flung open and they warily climbed up into the dark empty room.
“He is too big a man to fit into the walls. He must be in the manor house itself. We cannot be too far behind him,” Felix stated. Walking over to the shelf on the wall, he pulled the hidden lever and the wall slid open. Felix pushed the wall out of the way and entered the servants’ stairway.
“It is a large residence. He could be anywhere,” Alexander retorted, looking about them for any sign that the man they sought had come through. “Where is he?”
“We must enlist the aid of my household.” In the very next breath Felix’s mind turned to the other precious woman in his life. “Mother,” he whispered. Taking the stairs two at a time he raced for the Dowager Duchess’s bedchamber. Opening the door, he found the Earl standing over the Dowager Duchess with Mrs. Snow attempting to pour a vile of liquid down the Duchess’s throat.
“We already tried poison and that witch saved her life. It is time to move on to more immediate measures,” the Earl was saying to Mrs. Snow, and pushing her out of the way, he placed a pistol to the Dowager Duchess’s head.
Felix leapt forward roaring in rage, “No!”
“Stop, or she dies,” the Earl commanded pulling the Dowager Duchess’s body up to shield his own from possible harm. The Duchess choked and gasped, spitting out the liquid that Mrs. Snow had poured into her mouth. Mrs. Snow grabbed a second pistol from the Earl’s other hand and pointed it at Felix.
“Mrs. Snow, how could you?” the Dowager Duchess gasped out in little more than a whisper. “I trusted you.”
The Earl laughed. “Yes, and it very nearly cost you your life. You did very well, my love,” he praised Mrs. Snow.
“My love?” Felix repeated in confused disgust.
“Yes, Agatha and I are lovers. We have been for some time now. It was nothing at all to convince her to betray her mistress. Agatha and I have been poisoning your mother all along. If it were not for that awful witch’s efforts to save her, your mother would have died long ago, you would have married Cordelia as your mother’s last dying wish, and Blackleigh Castle would have been mine by now,” the Earl replied. “As it is, none of you will make it out of this alive. I may not have the treasure, but I will take comfort in knowing that I caused you great pain before I kill you.”
“You harm one single hair on my mother’s head and there will be absolutely nothing stopping me from killing you where you stand,” Felix threatened raising his pistol to be level with the Earl’s head.
The Earl pressed his cheek against the Dowager Duchess’s tear stained cheek and grinned. “Shoot me and see what happens. You would kill your own mother in an effort to kill me? Now who is the depraved one among us?”
“I am nothing like you,” Felix hissed, knowing that if he did try to shoot the Earl it would most likely hit his mother instead. It was simply too close to risk it.
“Quite so. Were it not for you and your efforts at heroism your young witch would not be dead,” the Earl taunted. “At least not yet. I would have killed her eventually,” he sneered gleefully.
“Marybeth is dead?” the Dowager Duchess sobbed out in question.
“Nay, she is not, Mother. The Earl speaks lies with his every breath.”
“If she is alive, she will not be so for long. There is no possibility that she would have survived a gunshot wound of that magnitude.” Nodding to Mrs. Snow, the Earl urged her to take action. “Kill him, Agatha. Kill him and I will take you with me. We will live happily together upon my estate.”
“Oh, Bernard,” Mrs. Snow’s eyes glowed with the fervor of a young lass in the first throws of love, though she was far from being such. She steadied the pistol and squeezed the trigger. A shot rang out, bouncing off of the walls of the Dowager Duchess’s bedchamber. Felix waited for the pain, but it never came. Mrs. Snow’s eyes flew open in surprise and then went glassy. Her knees buckled out from beneath her as a crimson rose bloomed across her chest.
Chapter 33
Mrs. Snow dropped to the floor, dead on impact. Felix caught the flash of metal in the lamplight as Alexander stepped forward into the room, his pistol smoking ever so slightly from having been recently fired.
“Agatha!” the Earl shouted as he watched her die before his very eyes. “You!” the Earl accused swinging his pistol up at Felix in anger. “You killed her!” He let the Dowager Duchess fall back to the bed in his grief.
