Mistress - Amanda Quick [139]
“You thought she had entered Society in order to form a connection with me?” Marcus asked.
“I did not discover that she was trying to find her aunt’s blackmailer until the night she went to Reeding Cemetery. Until then, I thought it was you she was out to snag. I could not blame her for aiming high. Indeed, I admired her nerve. But I feared it would not end well.”
“You intended to be there when her grand schemes came to naught, is that it?” Marcus asked.
“Yes. Damn you. Who could have foreseen that the legendary Masters would abandon all of his rules to marry his mistress?”
“You tried to destroy our attachment the night you sent her here to discover me with Lady Sands, did you not?” Marcus kept his gaze on Iphiginia, willing her to ready herself.
“Everyone, including Lord Sands, I think, believed that you and Lady Sands had been conducting a quiet affair for years. I expected I could convince Iphiginia of that, also.”
“But why did you send Lord Sands here that night?” Iphiginia asked.
Marcus raised his brows. “Hoyt no doubt hoped that Sands would kill me when he found me with his wife.”
Herbert gave him an approving look. “Quite right. Sands is inordinately fond of his lady. My congratulations, sir. You really are as intelligent as everyone says.”
“Thank you.”
Marcus dropped his cloak over the lantern, plunging the room into darkness.
“Bastard,” Herbert yelled. “Do not move.” He shrieked in startled pain. “Damnation, you bit me, you little bitch.”
An audible scuffle ensued.
Marcus slipped to the right in hopes of avoiding a bullet. He went in low and fast toward his quarry. He could see nothing. He was forced to rely on sound to guide him.
Herbert’s pistol roared. The sparks from the explosion momentarily illuminated his face. His well-fed, normally pleasant countenance appeared demonic.
An instant later, Marcus slammed into him.
They both went down, rolling on the floor. The pistol fell with a crash. Marcus heard Iphiginia’s footsteps as she groped her way toward the covered lantern. He sincerely hoped she would reach it before his coat caught fire.
Herbert yelled and clawed at Marcus, his rage imbuing him with surprising strength. He thrashed free for an instant. Marcus heard him stagger to his feet.
Iphiginia got the coat off the lantern at that moment. Light flooded the chamber.
Marcus came up off the floor in one move. He used the sudden gift of visibility to aim a blow at Herbert’s midsection. Herbert sagged but did not go down. Instead, he reeled toward the lantern.
He kicked out savagely at the flaring lamp.
Glass shattered. Oil spilled. Flames leaped to follow the path of the fuel.
“My God,” Iphiginia shouted. “The bed.”
Out of the corner of his eyes Marcus saw her grab his coat and begin to beat at the flames.
“Get out, Iphiginia,” he shouted.
“If the flames reach the bed or those ceiling hangings, this whole building will become an inferno.”
Marcus knew that she was right. And if the building went up in flames, there was no telling how much damage might be done or how many lives might be lost. There were bound to be several families sleeping in the rooms above the many shops in Lamb Lane.
Herbert seized the opportunity created by the distraction. He lurched toward the door. Marcus instinctively went after him.
He reached the door and heard his quarry’s footsteps pound down the darkened hall. A second later the outer door opened. A weak shaft of light illuminated Herbert’s bulky figure.
Marcus ran the length of the hall. He reached the outside landing just as Herbert started down the shadowed steps.
“You’re not getting away, you little bastard.” Marcus grabbed the railing with one hand and reached out to snag Herbert by the collar.
“Goddamn you, Masters.” Hoyt swung out wildly to ward off Marcus’s arm.
The frantic motion caused the panicked man to lose his balance. He fell against the rail, spun around, and toppled backward down the steps.
Hoyt’s short, anguished scream was cut off abruptly when he hit the pavement below.
Marcus