All pretext fled at the sight of her blood and Mason ceased his casual stalking.
Quickly assessing Katherine, he noted she was as steady, alert, and resolute as ever. He sensed with full trust that she was prepared to take advantage of any opening he could instigate.
Also, Shelbourne wasn’t a natural aggressor and wasn’t as confident as he appeared. The old man was a sneaky bastard, keeping to the shadows while ordering others to do his dirty work. His preferred methods of operation were deception and manipulation. It was doubtful he had any experience at all in facing overt aggression.
“She is my business, you bloody rotter,” he growled. Curling his hands into heavy fists and rolling his shoulders, he took a menacing step forward. “She’s everything. And you’ve just made a big fucking mistake.”
Instinctively retreating from the undeniable menace Mason presented, Shelbourne took a quick, frightened step back and lifted the knife to direct it toward the greater threat as he yelled, “Stay back.”
But it was too late. The words hadn’t even left his mouth before Katherine—no longer under the blade—ducked beneath his arm and kicked out against the side of his knee. His grip on her arm loosened as he cried out in pain and his leg buckled beneath him.
Mason charged in. Within a second, he had the old man gripped around the throat, lifting him to his toes as he twisted the knife from his grip with his other hand and tossed it across the room.
Glaring into the old man’s grey eyes gone wide with fear and a lack of oxygen, Mason snarled, “I should snap your neck for all you’ve done.”
“Mason.”
Katherine’s soft but stern voice tempered the violence inside him. With a smirk, he drew back his fist and sent it into the man’s gut before allowing him to crumple to the floor, gasping for breath.
Then he turned and, in two long strides, swept Katherine into his arms. Locking one arm around her waist, he cradled the back of her head with his hand, holding her close. She tucked her face against the side of his neck and held him back just as tightly.
It felt like his chest was going to explode with the emotion coursing through him. The rawness of his fear and the overwhelming relief at having her safely back in his arms. He couldn’t let her go. Ever.
His heart gave a lurch when she pulled back abruptly to look up at him with a heavy scowl as she brought one of her hands around from behind his back. Her fingers were smeared with red blood. “You’re injured,” she said sharply. Grasping his coat, she tried to turn him around so she could see the source of the blood.
Mason chuckled and tightened his arms around her. “Just a scratch, luv. Promise.”
The sound of someone clearing their throat had them both turning swiftly back toward the stairs.
At the sight of Warfield, Katherine turned in Mason’s arms to face her cousin more directly. In her mind, he was still another possible enemy. The woman’s bravery never ceased to amaze him.
Mason smoothed his hand down the length of her spine as he murmured assurance. “He’s all right. For whatever reason, the marquess helped me get to you.”
The marquess swept an icy blue gaze over the room before sliding his attention first to Katherine then Mason as he approached them in a casual stride. “Got it all in hand, then?” he asked as looked down at the man on the floor, who was slowly bringing himself to his knees with his head bowed.
“Once again, you arrive just after the work is done,” Mason retorted with a half smile.
Warfield arched a brow. “I wouldn’t have wanted to interfere in your heroics. They’re so impressive, after all.”
Mason snorted.
“Perhaps the two of you can continue your verbal bout another time,” Katherine interrupted. “I believe there are other things requiring our attention. Such as fetching the authorities.”
The two men shared a glance as she swept past them to lead the way back upstairs. Mason followed with Shelbourne, keeping a tight grip on the older man, who didn’t show any inclination to struggle. Something about the gentleman’s behavior felt off. Had the arrogant lord resigned himself so easily to his fate, then?
Upstairs, Mason was happily surprised to find Newton standing watch over the trussed-up guards, some of whom had started regaining consciousness.
“Jack. Good to see ya, mate. How’d you make your way here?” Mason shoved Shelbourne toward the staircase, where the lord silently took a seat. “Don’t move.”
“I caught sight o’ ye hoppin’ into that fancy curricle. I knew ye wouldn’t’ve left the lady unguarded, so I reckoned she was in danger. Being too far back to follow, I stopped for a chat w’ the butler, instead.” The older man grinned. “It took a bit o’ convincin’ but he decided to show me where ye were headed.”
“I’m grateful to you, mate,” Mason said with a clap on the other man’s back.
“What will happen to Lord Shelbourne?” Katherine asked, glancing toward the hunched old man sitting on the stairs.
“He’ll answer for his crimes,” Mason assured.
“Never,” the man gasped roughly. “My sins, my secrets, my darkness...die with me. Loyalty...beyond life...and...death.”
A swift suspicion flared and Mason lunged forward to grasp the man by the shoulder. Shelbourne’s head lolled to the side and his grey eyes stared unseeing up at Mason as a white foam tinged with red began to bubble from his pale lips.
“Fuck.”
Mason released his hold as the lord’s eyes rolled back and his body was seized by violent tremors.
“What’s happening?” Katherine stepped forward in alarm, but Mason turned to block her.
“Don’t watch, luv,” he said gently, looking into her eyes as understanding dawned and horror lit her features. “There’s nothing you can do. It won’t be a pretty death.”
Chapter Thirty
Mason would have preferred to get Katherine out of there and leave Warfield to provide whatever explanation he deemed appropriate to
