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The next afternoon, Heather drifted aimlessly around Quinn and Allison’s garden, her mind still whirling with the events of the past week. She’d gained a lover and then lost him. Gone to jail and then been released. Gone from a servant to a beloved member of the family. Last night, they’d left Jocelyn’s, returning to the O’Briens’, where Allison had installed her in a lovely room in the family quarters, right next to her own. The highs and lows had left her spinning. She didn’t know what to make of any of it, and in truth, wished she could just go back in time a few months, before she’d met Jacob. When her life had been comfortable and boring. Before she’d known what true heartache felt like.
She wasn’t quite certain what her future held now. She’d have to testify against Jacob and the Citizens Committee, but it seemed that Allison’s money and status would protect her from truly having to face justice.
How was she supposed to feel about that? She knew there was nothing she could do to atone for the deaths Jacob had caused, but she felt that she deserved more than one afternoon in jail for her part in it.
But perhaps her true punishment was having known what it felt like to love a man, to have felt loved in return, even though he’d never said it, and then to lose that love forever.
She was so lost in morose thoughts that she was startled when a man stepped out from behind a hedge right into her path. Shocked, she stumbled to a stop, looking around wildly for the policemen that she had been assured would be stationed nearby, then remembered that they’d gone back to their regular duties once Jacob had been captured. Was this a member of the Citizens Committee? She didn’t think so. She’d never seen him before and he was dressed like a gentleman, with dark hair and piercing dark eyes
Then his gaze met hers, and a chill settled deep inside her. He looked eerily familiar.
Dear God. Is this Drake’s brother?
“So, you’re Drake’s new mistress,” he said, his voice cold and mocking. “I’ve never known my brother to be so enamored, so I decided that I must come have a look at you.”
The Viper.
She wanted to scream, but she knew that Drake’s plan to bring this monster to justice depended on him having the element of surprise. If she let on that she knew who he was, what he’d done, he might flee the country and just continue his horrific deeds somewhere else.
Instead, she started edging back toward the house, praying that he wouldn’t be brazen enough to follow her inside. She didn’t want to bring this monster into the O’Briens’ house, but she certainly couldn’t stay out here with him.
“Who are you?” she asked warily, as if she didn’t already know.
“I’m Viscount Danbury, my dear,” he said conversationally, slowly stalking her through the hedges. “Your paramour is my little brother. He came to see me a few days ago, told me he was so smitten with you that he wasn’t going to come home anymore. Apparently, fucking you means more to him than his own dear brother. You must be very good at it. I must say, I’m intrigued.”
She gasped, hurt and indignation swirling within her. Had Drake really said such things to this man? Had he made it sound like she was some cheap whore?
No. Almost as quickly as the thought came, she managed to banish it. Before Drake had found out about her betrayal, he’d asked her to marry him. He certainly wouldn’t cheapen what they shared to a man like this. Not unless it was all part of his plan, and if so, she couldn’t take offense.
“You’re mistaken.” She wished she dared turn around and see how far she was from safety. “Blackstone has no interest in me. That’s why I’m here and not at his house. We had a row, and he sent me away.”
Danbury continued to slowly stalk her, seeming to enjoy the game of cat and mouse. “Excellent. You did prove rather elusive to find. But if Drake’s done with you, it means you’re free to entertain me.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said nervously, swallowing thickly as she remembered what this monster had done to Evelyn. But the house was in sight now. If she just continued on another fifty feet, she could duck inside and scream bloody murder for Quinn and the O’Briens’ strapping footmen.
“You haven’t told me your name yet.”
“I don’t intend to,” she said sharply. “If Drake had wanted to introduce us, he would have. But since we are not acquainted, it is not proper for you to be here. Mr. O’Brien wouldn’t like it.”
Something evil flickered in those dark eyes. “You’re not what I was expecting,” he said conversationally, as if she hadn’t just dismissed him. “I expected someone crass and vulgar. But you’re almost a lady. So sweet and innocent. I see now why Drake found you so appealing.”
She didn’t want this man to find her appealing. In fact, she didn’t want him to think of her at all. She would not become just another of The Viper’s victims. This was not how her story was going to end. Giving up all pretense of calm, she whirled and sprinted toward the back door as fast as her legs would carry her.
Before she could reach it, he slammed into her from behind, crushing her against him as one hand closed over her breast. “I’m a viscount,” he hissed in her ear, pinching her nipple painfully. “No bloody whore is going to run from me and not pay the price.”
“Unhand the lady,” an authoritative voice demanded, and she twisted her head to see the young, dark-haired policeman who was such a favorite of Quinn’s step out of the hedges behind them. Constable Pond. She’d never been so glad to see anyone. He stepped forward, calm and surprisingly collected, a gun in his hand.
“Do you know who I am?” Danbury snapped, squeezing her even tighter, turning her so that she acted as a shield between him and the constable.
“I know exactly who you are, Lord Danbury,” Constable Pond countered. “I’m here on your brother’s orders. Let the lady go. She doesn’t want your attention.”
“He has men watching over you?” Danbury snarled in her ear. “Why would he have his men watching over a whore?”
A sob caught in her throat when he pulled out a knife and pressed it against her throat. For a second, she wasn’t quite certain what had happened. But the press of the cold metal against her skin brought a rush of tears to her eyes and the word whore still rang in her ears.
“Stop right there,” Pond shouted, the hand that held the gun trembling slightly. “If you take one more step, I will shoot you.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” Danbury snarled. “I could cut her throat right in front of you, and you’d still never shoot someone like me.”
“I’m not going to let you hurt her.” Pond kept the gun leveled at Danbury’s head. “I’d go to prison myself before I’d let you harm one hair on this woman’s head.”
Danbury edged her a few steps toward the gate, and the knife pressed harder into her skin. From the burning sensation and the horror on Pond’s face, she was certain he’d drawn blood.
“Lord Danbury, stop!” Pond bellowed.
“I’m leaving now,” Danbury informed the young policeman. “And I’m taking the woman with me.”
Constable Pond met Heather’s gaze, and in his eyes, she saw that he’d meant every word he’d said. He’d save her or die trying. She didn’t know whether Drake had tasked him with protecting her or stopping Danbury, but she was grateful all the same.
She just didn’t know how confident she was in the young man’s ability to shoot Danbury when he was only inches away from her. Still, she gave an almost imperceptible nod. She’d rather die like this than let Danbury take her somewhere alone and do to her what he’d done to Evelyn.
Danbury inched back another step, and Pond pulled the trigger.
* * *
WHEN DRAKE ARRIVED back in London, he had his brother’s commitment papers in hand, signed by his father and witnessed by the family solicitor. He’d left at dawn, but the weather had turned bad again, and he’d fought light rain all the way. By the time he got home, he was cold and exhausted.
Still, he only stopped by his house long enough to bathe and eat before hurrying over to Sebastian’s. He only trusted Quinn and Sebastian with this, and he wanted to get it over with as soon as possible before his brother heard that it was happening and somehow managed to outwit him.
Perhaps he’d also wanted to see Heather again, so he was disappointed to find out that Quinn had taken his family home now that Lindon was in custody and no longer a threat. After a few moments’ discussion, he and Sebastian decided to go get Quinn and some orderlies from the asylum. Then they’d head to Danbury’s townhouse and try to intercept him before he went out for the night.
Half an hour later, they were sitting in Quinn’s study, discussing their plans, when a gunshot rang out from somewhere disturbingly close.
Quinn shot to his feet. “That came from the back garden.” He cast a quick glance over his shoulder as he rushed toward the terrace door. “Heather’s out there.”
Drake surged out of his chair, only vaguely aware of his two friends as he burst out the door, only to skid to a stop as he took in the scene before him. Constable Pond stood frozen, a gun in his outstretched hands. Danbury had a knife to Heather’s throat, inching her toward the gate. His left arm was bleeding profusely, and Drake quickly deduced that the blood was the result of the gunshot they’d just heard.
“Mortimer, stop!” Drake cried as he saw that there was also a thin stream of blood trailing down Heather’s slim white throat. “Let her go!”
Mortimer whirled to face him, grimacing in pain. “Drake! Thank God you’re here! That man shot me! I demand that you arrest him.”
“Let the girl go,” Drake repeated, trying to figure out why the hell his brother was even here. If Pond hadn’t followed him, tried to stop him... “We’ll talk as soon as she’s safe.”
Mortimer scoffed, shaking his head. “No, I don’t think that I will. I think she’s the only thing keeping me alive right now.”
“That’s not what’s keeping you alive,” Drake corrected, advancing toward him slowly, vaguely aware of his friends splitting up to circle Danbury. Quinn was moving to block the gate, so he only had to keep his brother focused and talking for a few minutes until his exit was cut off. Drake reached into his inside jacket pocket, removing the commitment papers. “This is what’s keeping you alive. If I didn’t have this, I’d have already shot you myself.”
Mortimer’s gaze flicked to the papers and then to the men who were surrounding him. “Call your men back, Drake. I’ll kill her. You know I will.”
“I do know it,” Drake said, his heart thundering in his chest. “I know what you did to all those women. I know what you did to Evelyn. I also know that I’ll have a hard time proving it, given your title. That’s why I went and saw Father yesterday. He’s signed the paperwork to have you committed.”
Finally, his brother froze, his gaze now glued to the paperwork in Drake’s hand. He gave a strained laugh. “I almost believed you. But we both know Father would never do that to his heir. Especially now that his health is so bad. He cares about that title more than he cares about the deaths of all the whores in England.”
“Perhaps,” Drake admitted, letting himself stare into Heather’s eyes for the first time since he’d come outside, trying to convince her without words that he knew what he was doing, that she could trust him, even despite everything that had gone wrong between them. “But what he cares about even more is our family’s reputation. Do you think he would ever allow me to arrest you? To drag our old, illustrious title through the mud?”
Realizing he was trapped, Mortimer suddenly pushed Heather away so hard that she stumbled and fell hard to her knees. “There,” he snapped. “You have your whore back. Now let me go. I’ll disappear. Go to the Continent.”
“You know I can’t do that,” Drake replied as Quinn rushed to Heather’s side, helping her up and murmuring soothing words as he pulled her toward the door.
“I can’t go to one of those places,” Danbury cried, as Drake gave a nod to Ness and Pond, who rushed forward and easily handcuffed him, even though he struggled and fought them. “Please, Drake! I’ll die there.”
“You will,” Drake vowed, wondering why he felt no remorse at all about his brother suffering such a fate. If he’d ever had any love for Mortimer, his brother had killed it long ago. All he felt now was relief.
The Viper had been caught. No more women had to die.
He glanced over his shoulder to see Heather and Quinn disappear into the house. He desperately wanted to follow them inside, make certain that Heather was all right, but thanks to Pond, there would be time for that later. First, he had to see his brother secured within the gates of an institution he would never be released from. He couldn’t rely on anyone else to see it done. This heavy burden was his alone.
He crossed over to where the other three men stood, putting a hand on Pond’s shoulder. “Thank you, Pond. You probably saved Miss Fields’ life.”
“I stayed with him, just like you said,” the young man said, ducking his head. “I’m sorry my shot wasn’t better, but I was nervous about hitting Miss Fields.”
“You did very well,” Drake assured him. “You alerted us to the trouble, and you stopped him from getting away with her. I couldn’t be prouder of you.”
Pond smiled bashfully. “Thank you, sir. That means a lot coming from you.”
Drake nodded and turned to Ness, ignoring his brother’s constant stream of vitriol as he thrashed about in Ness’s grasp. “Is he secure?”
“He ain’t going anywhere,” Ness said tightly, just as two of Quinn’s largest footmen came outside to assist them.
“Bring him inside,” Drake directed, wanting Danbury in the most secure environment he could until the orderlies from Broadmoor Hospital arrived to take him into custody.
They made their way inside, and Drake made certain that Danbury was securely tied to a chair and his wound bandaged before leaving him with Pond and Ness and using the O’Briens’ telephone to call Broadmoor and explain the situation.
When he was finished, he went down the hall to the sitting room, where Heather was being fussed over by Quinn and Allison.
He stood in the doorway, drinking in the sight of her, more relieved than he’d ever been in his life. If Danbury had managed to get away with her, if he’d done to her what he’d done to those other women...
He would have never recovered from that.
“Are you all right?” he asked, catching and holding her gaze. “Did he hurt you, Heather?”
She held up her hands, which were scraped and bloody from when she’d fallen, then touched her bloody throat. “A little banged up, but I’ll be fine.”
“Thank God.” He sagged against the doorframe. There was so much more he wanted to say to her, but this wasn’t the time.
I should have kept her with me. I should have protected her.
Allison glared at him. “Why did he come here?” she demanded. “Why did he go after Heather?”
“He thought I was your whore,” Heather said, sounding numb. “He said he wanted me to give him a taste of what I’d given you.”
Drake flinched, realizing that when he’d told his brother about his new mistress, he’d intrigued him. “Heather... I’m so sorry. I never meant for this to happen. I wanted to keep you safe, not pull you further into harm’s way.”
“I know,” she said, dropping her gaze to her battered hands. “It’s all right, Drake. That young constable protected me, and I know you had him watching over me. You said you’d keep me safe, and you did.”
Quinn cleared his throat, and Drake’s guilt grew. Pond had been watching Danbury, not Heather. He’d thought Heather was safe once Lindon was behind bars. Why hadn’t he made certain of it before abandoning her to fend for herself? He’d made so many promises to her, but had he kept any of them?
He had to admit to all the ways he’d failed her, all the ways he’d hurt her, but now was not the time or the place. “I have to make certain that Danbury gets safely to Broadmoor, but after I’m done... Can I come back, Heather? Can we talk?”
She nodded briefly, still not looking at him. Allison glared at him, and he knew she’d like to forbid it, but Quinn shook his head at her, and she managed to bite her tongue.
“I’ll see you later tonight then,” he said, praying he’d somehow find the words to make all this right.