Her heart leaped and almost immediately sank again.
Under his protection? Being by his side, constantly? After what had passed between them and what she now knew about him? Tina wasn’t sure she could bear it, even for the sake of staying alive. “I don’t think—”
But before she could continue her protest there was a commotion outside, and the door was flung open.
Mr. Branson was there, his arms pulled behind his back, being manhandled by Will Jackson into the room. Richard hurried over to help, and between the two of them they got the struggling Branson into a chair in front of the desk, facing Sir Henry, who sat on the other side. Mr. Branson looked flushed and furious, but there was something in his eyes that gave lie to his protests.
He knew why he was here, and when his gaze fell on Tina, he suddenly deflated like a pricked balloon, all of the hot air going out of him. Tina watched in fascination as he began to make excuses for his actions, telling the very man he’d tried to shoot that it was his fault.
“This was all mine, Arlington, until you took it from me.” He waved his arm about the room. “Stole it from me.”
“I paid you a good price, Branson.”
“A pittance.”
“You sold because you could no longer afford to hold on to it. I don’t say you were careless with your money or that it was your fault, but neither was it mine that you had to sell.”
Branson opened his mouth to continue the argument, but Richard put a stop to it.
“Enough! Miss Smythe saw you in the library with another man. What is his name?”
Branson’s expression became sly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” But with Richard and Will firing questions at him it didn’t take long for him to give them the answer they wanted. “Sutton. His name is Sutton. I don’t know where he lives—a hole in the ground probably. He’s a thug and a thief, he’ll do anything the Captain wants him to do.”
Richard smiled a nasty smile. “Oh yes? Well now we want to talk to you about the Captain.”
“Don’t know any Captain.”
“Oh come on!” Richard roared.
Tina jumped.
“Do you know what it’s like to spend twenty years in a tiny cell in a filthy gaol, Branson? Or would you prefer the gallows? The noose and the crowds jeering and laughing, the smell of fear as you step out of the cart and climb the steps. Just imagine that’s your last moment on earth; just imagine that’s the shameful legacy you’re leaving your wife.”
r /> Will murmured at her side, “It is vitally important we discover this man’s name, Miss Smythe,” as if he feared she might be shocked.
Richard shot a glance at her, but there was no smile. This was deadly serious stuff. “Tell us who he is, and things might go easier for you, Branson. I might ask for the firing squad instead of the noose.”
“We already have a fair idea of the Captain’s identity,” Will added, and managed to crease his usually amiable features into a fearsome mask.
“Do you now?” Branson muttered.
“Tell us, old chap,” Sir Henry put in, “and I’ll see your name is kept out of this. I know you didn’t mean to shoot at me. I’m quite prepared to let bygones be bygones.”
“Oh God, what a mess.” Branson put his hands over his face, his shoulders slumped, but Tina suspected this was more to give himself time to think than because he was in any way repentant.
Outside they could hear laughter as some of the guests took part in a game of croquet between showers. Horace’s voice rose above the others, declaring himself hopelessly beaten, followed by Charles’s protests.
Branson took his hands away. “I have your word?” he demanded of Sir Henry. “I will not be punished or brought to any kind of justice?”
“My word,” Sir Henry agreed.
Branson nodded. “Very well. The Captain is here, you’re right. His name is Lord Horace Gilfoyle.”
Tina gasped aloud, she couldn’t help it. “Horace?” she cried, her tone shrill with shock and disbelief. “Horace would never—”
“Thank you, Miss Smythe,” Richard cut her off.
Branson was smirking, and Tina had absolutely no doubt he was lying again. Why didn’t the others demand the truth from him? How could they believe such nonsense without a single protest?