Brotherhood 02 - Broken Promise (25 page)

The minutes crept by with agonizing slowness and Austin didn’t move from his position in the corner of the room. Loud voices and laughter drifted up from the celebration still going on below, but so far no one had ventured up the stairs. The only sound he heard was Jonathan’s soft snoring.

Sarah’s words played over and over in his mind. He’d lost her. When this night was over, she would go with Jonathan to Penderly Manor and he would probably never see her again. Memories of her body pressed to his, her lips touching his, and the dark ebony of her gaze would be all that remained of the woman who’d stolen his heart.

He let the back of his head rest against the wall and planned what he would do next. There would always be work for him in St. Giles and the slums of London. Violent crimes never ceased to take place there. He could bury himself in solving the cases no one else would touch. He would take risks no one else would take because he didn’t care about the danger. A life or death outcome wasn’t important.

Austin stood straight and listened again. This time he thought he heard something. He held his breath and listened again.

A muffled sound came from somewhere beyond the door. A second later the knob turned and the door slowly opened.

The intruder crept into the room as if he knew he’d find Jonathan alone and sleeping. He closed the door with a soft click then stood without moving for several long seconds.

He was intelligent and crafty, not careless like Austin hoped he’d be. Instead of rushing in to make his move, he stood in the dark for several minutes, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. When he could see, he looked around the room, then stepped forward.

He walked softly as he crossed the room. His intent was clearly the small bed where Jonathan slept.

Austin tightened his grip around the pistol in his hands and waited. Timing was everything now. Surprise him too soon and he’d deny he intended to harm Jonathan. Wait too long and Jonathan could be in danger.

The intruder lifted his arms and placed his hands on the railing that surrounded Jonathan’s bed. Austin waited for his next move. When he lowered one hand into the bed, Austin stepped out from his hiding place and lifted his pistol.

“Pull your hands away from the baby and don’t move.”

The intruder bolted in surprise, then lifted his hands and held them in the air. Austin lit the nearest lamp and let the light spread through the room. The soft glow illuminated Wesley Dunstan’s shocked expression. “Now, step away from the crib.”

“What’s the meaning of this?” Wesley asked, staring at the gun in Austin’s hand in wide-eyed disbelief. “I simply came to take a look at the child.”

“Move!” When Dunstan moved away from where Jonathan slept Austin walked across the room and opened the door. That was the sign he’d arranged to tell Gabe he’d caught the assassin. It wasn’t long before an army of guards were in the room and a thunder of footsteps rushed up the stairs.

“You caught him,” Gabe said, clasping Dunstan’s arms behind his back.

Sarah was the next person to rush into the room. She ran to Jonathan’s bed and gathered the sleeping babe into her arms.

“You were supposed to stay away until everything was over,” he said.

“Everything is over. You’ve caught him.”

He wasn’t surprised to see her. When had she ever run from danger? She was always in the middle of it.

“Very well,” he said, knowing that arguing would do no good. “Take Jonathan to your room and keep him there.”

Sarah stepped through the crowd and was gone.

“What’s the meaning of this, Penderly?” Jasper Dunstan asked his brother. “What are you accusing Wesley of doing?”

“Attempted murder, Jasper. I’m accusing your son of trying to kill my grandson.”

“What?” Leonora Dunstan cried out, rushing to her son’s side. “Have you lost your mind?”

Jasper Dunstan stepped forward. “Surely you can’t believe Wesley would try to harm a babe?” He looked from his brother to his son. With each passing glance his face lost more of its color.

“You don’t know how I wish I didn’t, Jasper. But he did. Twice.”

“Twice? How? When?”

“The first time, shortly after Jonathan was born. Miss Bentley fought off the assassin he hired. The second time, just a few weeks ago. Miss Bentley stepped in front of my grandson and took the bullet that was intended for him.”

Leonora Dunstan staggered and Harrison moved a chair close so she could sit.

Jasper Dunstan anchored his hand against the nearest piece of furniture and looked at his son. “Say something, Wesley. Tell them you didn’t try to harm the babe.”

Austin kept his gaze focused on Wesley Dunstan. Something about his expression confused him. Something about the look of incredulity didn’t fit. Austin expected to see guilt, or at least contempt at being discovered. Instead, Wesley Dunstan’s face paled with shock, his mouth agape in disbelief.

“Tell them, Wesley,” Jasper Dunstan demanded again. When his son said nothing in his defense, Dunstan turned to face his brother. “Why would you suspect Wesley? He didn’t even know about Jonathan. None of us did.”

“Unfortunately, he did, Jasper. He’s the only person other than Miss Bentley who knew Jonathan existed. When Gregory died, I sent Wesley to Wakemoor to discover what he could about the accident. He came back and reported his findings to me. He would have known then that there was a babe. But he said nothing. He didn’t tell me I had a grandson because the babe would replace him as the next earl.”

“No!” Leonora Dunstan cried out. “Tell them, Wesley. Tell them you would never kill a babe!”

Her pain-filled voice echoed in the crowded room and Jasper Dunstan rushed to his wife to place a comforting hand on her shoulder. The gentle gesture caused Wesley Dunstan to flinch. The emotion wasn’t something Austin expected from a killer.

He studied Wesley’s features closer, searching to find a hint of arrogance or an admission of guilt. He scrutinized the glint in Wesley’s eyes for any sign of bitterness or jealousy great enough that he’d resort to murder. Those emotions were absent. What he saw was sorrow, regret, and an emotion much deeper than Austin could read.

He turned his gaze to Gabe and saw his friend felt the same. Something wasn’t what it seemed.

He took a step toward Wesley Dunstan and stood close enough that the young man leaned back. “When did you first discover Lord Penderly had a grandson?”

Dunstan’s eyes closed as if he needed the separation to decide what to do, how to answer.

Austin grabbed the young man by the cravat at his throat and roughly pulled him closer. “When!”

Dunstan wasn’t prepared for such an outburst and was physically startled. His mother issued a small cry. His father took a step toward them as if he intended to protect his son. Austin shot Dunstan an angry glare and he thought better of his actions and stepped back.

Austin clenched his fists around the material of Wesley Dunstan’s dinner jacket and pushed him toward Gabe. Gabe twisted Dunstan’s arm behind his back and lifted. The young man flinched in pain.

“When?”

Dunstan looked to the Heavens, as if searching for a divine answer, then whispered. “Tonight. I found out tonight, when my uncle made the announcement.”

The Earl of Penderly stepped forward. “That’s a lie! I sent you to Wakemoor. I asked you to make sure Gregory had been properly buried.”

His gaze dropped to the floor. “I didn’t go. There was an emergency on one of the estates that required my attention. I thought that was more important.”

Austin nodded and Gabe let go of Dunstan’s arms. The young man staggered back.

Austin leveled Dunstan with a lethal glare. “Who went in your place?”

Wesley Dunstan hesitated. He looked at his mother, then his father. His eyes darted from one to the other with helplessness. Finally, his shoulders sagged in resignation and he buried his face in his hands. “Stew went for me. He didn’t want to, but…I made him.”

Austin searched the room, frantic to find Stewart Dunstan.

He wasn’t there.

…

Sarah rushed from the room with Jonathan in her arms. She was giddy with relief. They’d captured the killer and Jonathan was safe now.

She couldn’t stop the bubble of happiness from bursting forth as she laughed, then lowered her head and kissed Jonathan on the cheek. “You’re safe now, sweetheart. No one will ever hurt you again.”

She entered her room on feet that glided with a lighter step than they had in months. Jonathan was safe. She’d never have to worry about his safety again.

She lifted Jonathan in the air and swirled around in celebration. She pulled him close to her when the door closed behind her, and turned. Stewart Dunstan stood across the room from her with a knife in his hand.

“You seem unusually happy tonight, Miss Bentley. Is there a reason for your high spirits?”

A wave of fear washed through her and she clutched Jonathan closer as she made a frantic dash across the room. Before she could reach a second door, he crossed the room and grabbed her arm. He clasped his fingers around her flesh and yanked her toward him.

The sharp pull on her wounded shoulder sent shards of blazing pain through her.
She fought him as desperately as she could while holding on to Jonathan. She couldn’t let Dunstan take him.

Dunstan pulled her harder and when she continued to struggle, he swung his arm through the air. His fist slammed into her jaw. She fought to stay on her feet.

“Don’t fight me,” he hissed, “or the brat dies right here.”

Fear raged inside her. This couldn’t be happening. Austin had the killer. He sent her away with Jonathan because he thought she’d be safe. “Please, don’t hurt Jonathan. He’s just a babe.”

Stewart Dunstan laughed a malicious growl. “He isn’t a babe. He’s Penderly’s heir.”

Sarah wasn’t sure how that affected Stewart. He wasn’t next in line for the earldom. Wesley was.

She considered talking to him, trying to reason with him, but knew it would do no good. He was past all rationale. He was desperate, frantic to conclude what he’d failed to accomplish twice before.

He pressed the knife to her throat and pulled her across the room. When they reached the writing desk he shoved her against it. His fingers dug into her flesh, his grip a vice around her arm.

She cried out in pain but he ignored her pleas. He pulled out the chair and shoved her toward it. “Sit. Get out a paper and pen and write.”

“Write what?”

“Your farewell note. A note telling your lover that you can’t bear to hand the babe over to Penderly. That you intend to keep him and that you’re going to take him where he’ll never be found.”

“No one will believe that,” Sarah answered.

“Then you’d bloody well better convince them or you and the brat will die right here.”

Sarah looked into Stewart Dunstan’s face and a shiver raced down her spine. His features were hard and pinched with fury. His face was a dark mask and there was a crazed look in his eyes. She looked at him again and he smiled. The look was that of a bloodthirsty predator.

“Please, don’t do this. It’s not too late. If you let us go, I promise I won’t—“

“Shut up and write!”

Sarah shifted a sleeping Jonathan in her arm and picked up the pen. She dipped it in the ink well and held it over the paper Stewart placed before her. “What should I write?”

“You’re an intelligent woman. Write whatever you want. Just tell Landwell you’re taking the babe where he’ll never find him.”

Sarah started writing and thought of Austin. She prayed he’d realize what was happening. But how could he? He thought Wesley Dunstan was the murderer. He thought Jonathan was safe. Sarah knew she’d have to figure out a way to save Jonathan herself. She needed time.

“Captain Landwell will never believe I took Penderly’s grandson. He’ll never believe—”

“Shut up!”

Before she could protect herself, his fist swung around and connected with her face. The room spun in dizzying circles as her head snapped to the side. She couldn’t lose consciousness. Jonathan’s life depended on her staying alert.

“Now, write!”

She looked at the bundle in her arms. She didn’t know how he could, but Jonathan still slept. He was tired from the long day of being held, of being played with by his grandparents. Of being kept up to make an appearance at dinner. Thankfully, he slept now. She didn’t want to think what Stewart Dunstan would do if he woke and cried.

Sarah placed the pen on the paper and wrote a short note saying just what Dunstan instructed her. As she wrote, she considered her options. There was only one—only one that might save Jonathan. And she had to make her move before they left the room. Once they were out in the hall and down the stairs, Austin would be too far away to help her.

“Finish and sign your name,” he ordered. “You’ve wasted enough time.”

Sarah signed her name with a shaky hand then took several deep breaths, calming herself for what she had to do, knowing that if she failed, Jonathan would die.

When she stood, Jonathan shifted in her arms. He was waking. Sarah looked at his chubby cheeks, flushed from sleep. Watched his eyes flutter, then open. She had to save him before he cried or it was impossible to tell what Dunstan would do to quiet him.

Before Dunstan realized her intent, she jerked out of Dunstan’s grasp and darted across the room. She dropped Jonathan on the bed then she spun around and lunged toward Stewart Dunstan, knocking him off balance.

Her actions surprised him and for a few seconds she had the advantage.

“Austin!”
she screamed.

She had to keep him on the floor as long as she could. Once he got to his feet he’d overpower her. She clamped her arms around his legs and held on with all her strength.

He twisted then kicked out with his legs. One booted foot connected with her jaw and she lost her grip on his legs. Her world shifted as she struggled to regain her advantage. Before she could protect herself, his arm slashed toward her and the knife in his hand cut through the material on her sleeve.