Page 149 of The Viscount's Seduction
“That gate latch is broken,” Kincaid said. “Farnsworth, come see to that mad horse. I’m out of powder.”
The well-dressed man raised a pistol.
Sirena gasped. “No.” She jerked free, one hand extended, and moved in front of the pistol. “You’ll not put her down.”
“My lady, that horse just killed a man.” Kincaid spoke soothingly, like she was mad also.
She felt Bakeley’s strength next to her.
“She was frightened,” she said, “and rightly so. As was I. She did it because…because I asked it of her.”
Kincaid exchanged looks with Shaldon, and the third man. Aye, ’twas certain they thought she was as mad as the mare.
“Rather like a medieval destrier, Kincaid.” Bakeley pulled her close. “We won’t put the horse down, but we need to move her, love. There’s a barrel of gunpowder in the middle of the stables.”
“I’ll do it my lady.” The footman slid around the man called Farnsworth, and she recognized Johnny, Mr. Gibson’s groom, all done up in fancy livery for their ball.
“She’s been letting me handle her. Upset about all that’s happened she is, and the blood’s abothering her. I’ll get her away from the smell and find her a place with the others. I’ll take good care of her.”
Tears filled her eyes and she blinked them away, pulling open the gate. Banshee nosed her skirt, and she stroked her head. “Thank you,” she said. “You’ll go with Johnny, and he’ll take good care of you.”
She talked and soothed, while Bakeley helped the groom gather the tack and lead Banshee out through the garden instead of the door at the back of the stables.
Donegal’s body blocked that way.
“It’s a pity,” Shaldon said from behind her. “We wanted to question him.”
She sucked in a breath and made herself look.
Bile rose in her. Donegal’s ugly scar was a red, furrowed crater.
“We’ll get that footman to talk,” Kincaid said.
“There was a groom, also,” Sirena said. “If you can find him. He lured me out here.” Her eyes shot open. “But wait, what did the footman do?”
“He made sure Bakeley came out,” Shaldon said.
Dear God.
She touched her Gram’s knot. What a fool she’d been. The vision had warned her, yet she’d fallen straight into the trap over a horse and a diamond brooch. Bakeley might have been killed.
“I’ll deal with this mess,” Kincaid said.
The brooch. Perhaps it didn’t truly matter, as Bakeley said. And yet…it would feed all of Glenmorrow for a long time.
“If you find the diamond brooch, Kincaid, you must let me know.”
“Aye, I will, Lady Sirena.”
Bakeley returned just then and pulled her close. “Come. Let’s go in. Father will see to this.”
“Kincaid will see to it,” Shaldon said. “Don’t blow yourself up, Kincaid.” He followed them out.
“Is it really so dangerous?” she whispered.
“A keg of powder? Yes.” She stumbled and he held onto her. “And that one is probably filled with bits of metal, the better to cause pain and suffering. Donegal wasn’t Irish at all. His name was Dunchatel. He’s a Swiss spy and bomb maker, and one of Father’s old enemies.”
She buried her face in his shoulder. “Oh, Bakeley. I’m sorry. The thought of him luring you out there to kill you…I did think the first time I talked to him he might truly be Irish,” she whispered. “Else I would have told you…”
