Who Will Take This Man?

“No. This is between you and me.”

“Pity. Their arrival here would have saved me the trouble of going to them, but it matters not. Their hours are numbered.” With a quick movement, he withdrew a pistol from his jacket and pointed it at the center of Philip’s chest. “Unfortunately, you will not still be alive to see them die, but you will die knowing that those you hold dear will soon follow you.”

Philip shook his head. “I won’t allow you to hurt anyone else.”

A sharp bark of laughter erupted from Edward. “Indeed? You cannot stop me. You will not stop me.”

Philip didn’t move so much as an eyelash as he studied his foe. He needed time, had to keep Edward talking. “I’m sorry about Mary, Edward-”

“Sorry?” he repeated in an awful voice. His eyes narrowed into hate-filled slits. “That doesn’t bring her back, now, does it? Nothing will. Not your pity, nor your useless financial gestures. Do you think that money can take her place? Assuage your responsibility? Could money replace the woman you love, Philip?”

The mere thought turned his stomach. “If there was a woman I loved… no.”

“Don’t lie to me. ‘Tis obvious how you feel about Miss Chilton-Grizedale. Of course, I won’t have to actually kill her. You’ve taken care of that for me, by professing your love and asking her to marry you. Who knew that that would activate the curse?” A high-pitched laugh escaped him. “How bloody perfect!”

“You’re not going to hurt anyone,” Philip repeated in a frigid voice.

Edward’s expression turned to one of amusement as he looked pointedly between the pistol and Philip. “I’m afraid I must disagree.”

“Meredith isn’t going to die because I am going to break the curse.”

“So you indicated. How do you intend to do that without the missing piece of stone?”

Philip smiled. “You’re going to give me the missing piece of stone.”

“Again, you are mistaken.”

“You have the missing piece. You wrote as much in your last note. You stole it the night you robbed me. It was in the alabaster box.”

Madness glittered in Edward’s eyes. “It was. I read it. I alone hold the answer to breaking the curse, and I will never share it with you. Never.”

Knee-weakening relief smacked Philip. Edward’s words made it clear that there was indeed a way to break the curse. Now all he had to do was get that missing piece of stone. And survive this encounter. Moving slowly, he maneuvered himself so that his walking stick was directly behind him.

“Show me the stone, Edward.”

Edward laughed. “Oh, I intend to. What better way to make you suffer than to show you that which you shall never have? It’s rather like leaving a man tied in the desert, just out of reach of an oasis.” Slipping his hand into his pocket, he withdrew a stone, half the size of his palm.

Philip’s heart pounded. Without a doubt, it was the missing piece of stone.

“You want to know what it says, don’t you?” Edward taunted. “Well, you’ll never know. You’re going to your grave, Greybourne-the same place you sent my Mary. And I want your last thoughts to be of losing everything you love.”

“Killing my family won’t bring back Mary.”

“But it makes you suffer. Of course, killing your family is not as important as killing Miss Chilton-Grizedale.” An unpleasant smile curved his lips. “An eye for an eye, Philip.”

“You’ll never get away with this. You’ll hang.”

“It matters not. My life is over. You and your curse saw to that.”

His gaze locked on Edward’s, Philip took a half step forward. “Give me the stone, Edward.”

“Don’t come any closer, Philip.”

Philip moved another half step. “Why not? You’re going to kill me anyway.” Another step. Then he looked over Edward’s shoulder, widened his eyes, and shook his head.

“What-?” The instant Edward swiveled around to see who or what was behind him, Philip reached for his walking stick.

Realizing he’d been duped, Edward whirled back around. Philip swung the walking stick, catching Edward across the chest. Edward’s eyes widened in surprise, then narrowed in mad fury, but he quickly recovered, dodging Philip’s next swing. With an inhuman roar of rage, Edward rushed forward, smashing into Philip, sending him crashing against the stacked crates. The walking stick fell from his grasp.

“You bastard,” Edward heaved, trapping Philip against the wall with the full weight of his large body. Philip struggled to move, but ceased when he felt the pistol jammed directly under his ribs. One twitch of Edward’s finger would end his life. He’d heard that insanity drove men to great strength, and Edward was proving that correct. His forearm pressed against Philip’s throat, cutting off his air. Black dots began to swim in front of his face. Knowing it was now or never, he heaved himself forward, throwing Edward back several paces. He grabbed Edward’s wrists. One hand held the pistol, the other the stone. Eyes riveted on each other, they struggled fiercely.

Sweat coating his skin, muscles screaming against the strain, Philip tried to direct the pistol away from him.

“You think you’re going to win this?” Edward ground out, his face only inches from Philip’s. “Think again, you bastard. I’ll see to it that no matter what happens, you’ll not win.”

A dull thud, followed by the sound of Edward’s boot smashing down, turned Philip’s blood to ice.

“The stone is destroyed,” Edward whispered. “And so are you. I hope you rot in hell.”

The pistol fired.

The carriage had just halted outside the warehouse when the sound of a pistol shot rent the air. Heart pounding with fear and dread, Meredith grabbed Mr. Stanton’s arm. “Dear God. That came from inside the warehouse.”

“Stay here,” he said, opening the carriage door and jumping to the ground.

“I’ll do no such thing. Philip is in danger. I can help.”

He slipped a knife from his pocket. “Help? How?”

Jumping to the ground, she hefted her rock-laden reticule. “I’m armed.” She lifted her chin. “And determined. You’re not leaving me here.”

He raised his brows. “You any good with that thing?”

“Would you care for a demonstration?”

They stared at each other for several seconds, then he jerked his head in a nod. “You’ll do. Don’t make a sound, stay behind me, and for God’s sake, don’t get yourself killed.”

Clasping her hand, he led her silently forward. They’d only taken half a dozen steps when she halted and squeezed his hand. Heart pounding, she whispered, “There’s someone in the shadows.”

No sooner had the words left her mouth than Bakari stepped forward, a long, curved knife held in his fist.

“What are you doing here?” Andrew whispered.

“Same as you. Hope to save his life.”

Andrew nodded, then indicated with a jerk of his head that Bakari should bring up the rear. The warehouse door stood ajar, and they slipped in the opening. Moving silently forward, Meredith forced long, slow, deep breaths into her constricted lungs, fighting back her fright. If something had happened to Philip…

Keeping close to the shadows cast by the crates, they crept forward. She strained her ears, but heard nothing save the thumping of her own heartbeat pounding in her ears. When they came to the final corner before they’d reach Philip’s crates, Mr. Stanton stopped. They listened for several seconds, but heard nothing. Then he cautiously peeked around the corner.

She heard his sharp intake of breath, then his agonized groan. “Philip… oh, God… bloody hell.”

Twenty-two