“Finlay, do something!” Sophia grabbed his arm as her pulse soared. “Mr D’Angelo is almost goading Maud to shoot Jessica.”
“D’Angelo knows what he’s doing.” Finlay patted her hand. “But we’re about to make the situation more troublesome for Maud.” He threw a glance at Mr Archer. “You’ll enter the room with us, but take one step in the wrong direction and I’ll kill you myself.”
“I can reason with her,” the rogue replied, “get her to stop this nonsense if you let us leave Blackborne. We’ll return to India, and you’ll never hear from us again.”
Did he think to escape punishment after everything he’d done?
Finlay made no reply. He was true to his word and would never make false promises. He knocked gently on the drawing room door. “D’Angelo? We’ve returned.”
“What! Don’t let them in!” Maud exclaimed. “If you open that door, I’ll shoot. I swear.”
Mr Archer cursed. “Let me speak to her before she kills someone.”
Finlay nodded.
“Maud!” Mr Archer moved closer to the door. “It’s Bartholomew. Mr Cole knows there has been a misunderstanding. Let me in so we can discuss our return to India.”
Silence ensued.
“Do you not want to tell them the truth about their father?”
Their father? Clarence Draper was an honest man, and so Sophia knew to expect more lies.
After some muttering, the click of the latch preceded D’Angelo opening the door. “Maud could grace the stage with her distressed damsel routine,” D’Angelo grumbled, looking somewhat ashamed he’d lost control of the situation. “She caught us all by surprise.”
“Where did she get the pistol?” Finlay openly expressed his annoyance. “I thought Mrs Friswell checked for weapons.”
“Maud must have hidden it earlier in the evening. She asked to use the bourdalou behind the screen. Blent and I stepped into the hall briefly. That’s when she grabbed Miss Draper.”
D’Angelo moved aside, and Finlay gestured for Mr Archer to enter first.
“Anger burns inside like an inferno,” Sophia whispered.
“Give me the pistol hidden in your muff,” he said firmly. “It’s unwise to wield a weapon when suffering heightened emotions. Trust me. You do not want a man’s death on your conscience.”
Sophia hesitated.
“Have you fired a pistol before?”
“Never.”
“I can shoot a man in the heart from two hundred yards.” He held out his hand, palm up. “Give me the pistol.”
Sophia drew the pistol from her muff and placed the weapon in his hand. “They must pay for their treachery. All three of them. Do you hear me? I want retribution for Jessica’s lost years.”
He inclined his head. “You shall have it. You have my word.”
His gaze of assurance wrapped around her heart. Finlay would keep his vow.
They moved to step into the room—heaven knows what horrors awaited them tonight—but she touched his arm and said the only thing he needed to hear.
“Should anything happen to either of us, know this.” She paused. “I’m in love with you, Finlay. I’ve always been in love with you.”
Sophia didn’t wait for a reply. Now he knew the depth of her feelings it was time to deal with Maud. Conniving didn’t begin to describe the woman who’d sobbed hysterically and claimed to be in fear of her life. But her schemes would come to nought.
Yet one look at Jessica’s fear-stricken eyes dashed Sophia’s hopes. Maud held her in a choke hold, the muzzle of a pocket pistol pressed to her temple. For seven years, Goodwin had held his finger on the trigger, too. One mistake with his dosage could have ended Jessica’s life.
“Don’t come any closer,” Maud kept repeating.