A Rake's Midnight Kiss (Sons of Sin 2)
Without invitation, Cam took one of the leather chairs facing the gilded baroque table where Fairbrother pored over his latest acquisition. The Harmsworth Jewel. Cam had never seen the troublesome artifact, but Richard had shown him drawings. “My lord, you and I are due a serious talk.”
Fairbrother’s swine-like eyes darted apprehensively around the room. “Indeed?”
“Indeed.” Cam leaned his elbows on the arms of his chair and steepled his fingers. Outrage at the thought of Richard and Genevieve suffering a slow death tightened Cam’s gut, but his façade remained as calm as if he discussed a tenant with his steward.
“We have no mutual interests.”
Cam’s lips curved. Fairbrother’s unhealthy pallor indicated that the smile’s implicit threat hadn’t escaped him. “You don’t consider attempted murder a matter for concern?”
“Attempted murder?”
“Of course,” Cam said almost gently. “When you confine someone as expert in all things medieval as Genevieve Barrett in a crypt, it’s prudent to shoot her first.”
“I have no idea what you mean.” Fairbrother faltered back a step and cast a panicked glance at the closed French doors. Then he retreated with more purpose toward the desk against the wall where he almost certainly kept a gun. “If you truly believe I’ve tried to kill someone, you’d have the law here.”
Cam’s eyes sharpened. “You don’t want to menace me with a pistol. I am Sedgemoor. I have influence you can’t even imagine.”
“You’re the bastard by-blow of a whore mother.”
Cam’s smile remained. Fairbrother would inevitably use the scandal to jockey for advantage. At least the man had stopped edging toward the desk. “Ah, the old gossip. So old it hardly matters. Whereas if you’re hauled before the courts, the scandal will be fresh. Leath won’t relish seeing his uncle tried as a common criminal. And a hanging will quite blot the family escutcheon.”
“I won’t hang.”
“Burglary. Conspiracy. Assault. Attempted rape. Attempted murder. I’m sure those aren’t the only charges. Although they’re sufficient to dangle you from a rope.”
Fairbrother watched him like a rabbit watched a fox. “So why not have me arrested?”
“A lady’s reputation is involved.”
Fairbrother sneered as he came around the table to stand in front of Cam. “No lady worthy of the name.”
Cam’s voice remained calm. “Careful. I won’t sit quiet while you insult Miss Barrett.”
Fairbrother showed no compunction. “We’re at point non plus, then. If you can’t inform the law without soiling Miss Barrett’s name, it’s best to overlook this entire matter.”
“I imagine you think so.” Cam paused for effect. “But gentlemen whose honor is impugned have other remedies.”
Fairbrother laughed contemptuously. “You can’t intend to challenge me, Your Grace. I’ve done you no wrong, and a man of your status doesn’t risk his life over minor peccadillos.”
By God, the man must be half lunatic. He’d filled a catalogue of villainies to shame the Devil. “Believe me, if not preempted, I’d happily face you over the barrel of a gun, but someone with more rights has priority. Sir Richard Harmsworth issued the challenge.”
Bewilderment replaced Fairbrother’s self-satisfaction. “Harmsworth? You jest, sir. I’ve never met the fellow.”
“Indeed you have,” Cam said softly. “He’s familiar to you as Christopher Evans.”
“This is bloody nonsense.” Fairbrother finally abandoned all pretense of civility.
Cam’s tone cooled. “Miss Barrett asked for Sir Richard’s help to protect the jewel.” It wasn’t the truth but it would suffice.
Fairbrother snickered. “He h
elped, all right.”
“I’ve warned you.”
“There will be a scandal if I accept this gimcrack challenge,” he said defiantly, leaning back against the table and folding his massive arms across his chest. Behind him, the jewel glinted malevolently.
“I agree.”