should be savoured, not devoured.’
There he went again, referring to her as a thing. Not for very much longer, she hoped. Any minute, Tony would be here to put a stop to it.
Or he would not, and she would have to act for herself.
Barton reached across the table to stroke her hand. ‘And you are fine indeed. Your skin is soft, your eyes are bright…’
Her teeth were good, and her coat glossy. Soon he would be extolling her good wind and her ability to take jumps at the gallop. Tony never wasted half so much time on pretty words. And yet she had no doubt that he found her beautiful. She felt the anger in her, rising to push out the fear.
‘I will take great pleasure in loving you…’
And what was she to take from the experience? At least Tony did not blather on about how much he would enjoy being with her, although he clearly did. He seemed most concerned with how she felt about it. This man was obsessed with bedding her, nearly insane with it.
‘Come, let me show you.’ He rose and offered her his hand, and gestured towards the door with his gun.
She looked at the hand held out to her. Tony might be dead already. And if that was true, there would be no last-minute rescue. But if he was dead, then it did not matter, one way or the other, what happened to her. She no longer cared, so there was nothing to be afraid of.
She looked at Barton. He had seemed so frightening, but he was a pathetic creature who could think no further than the bed in her room. She knew his weakness, and she could exploit it to her advantage.
‘Very well.’ She took his hand and he escorted her towards the stairs, a pace behind, with the gun in his pocket. She turned as they were halfway up. ‘And you intend to be gentle?’
‘Of course.’
She allowed a small disappointed sigh to escape her lips.
Behind her, on the steps, she heard the slight hesitation in his step.
She paused again. ‘Robert was always very careful, when we were together. I assumed that it was the fault of age. Tony, as well, treated me as though I were made of glass.’ She turned to look back at Barton. ‘Some day, perhaps I will find someone who is not afraid to give me what I want.’ She glanced back at him and saw the avaricious glimmer in his eyes.
‘You do not wish me to be gentle?’
‘Let me be plain, Jack. You are a cold-blooded brute and I detest you. But perhaps I have had my fill of gentleman lovers. You mean to have me and I cannot stop you. But if you must, then do not bore me with talk of gentleness.’ She turned back to him on the stairs and kissed him, biting his lip.
She heard the intake of breath as she released him and watched his eyes go dark. He hurried the last few steps to draw even with her, pushing her back against the wall to kiss her hard in return.
She moaned convincingly back at him, tangling her hand in his hair and running a hand down his spine.
He pulled away again, smiling at her in surprise. And then his gaze turned suspicious. ‘If this is a trick, I will make you pay for it.’ But she could see in his eyes that he wanted to believe her.
‘You mean to make me pay, no matter what, Jack. There is nothing left to threaten me with.’ She walked the last few steps to her room, stepped inside and closed the door behind them.
He was on her as soon as the door was shut, shoving her against the wall, his fist in her hair and his mouth on hers. She felt his hands gripping her shoulders and fumbling at the front of her gown for her breasts.
Neither hand held the gun.
She made as if to hold him about the waist, then plunged her hand into his pocket to seize the pistol and point it into his ribs.
It took a moment for him to recognise the feel of the metal barrel in his stomach, and stop molesting her. ‘Constance!’
‘Step away from me, Jack. And do not make any sudden movements. I do not know much of guns, but I seriously doubt that I will miss you, should I shoot.’
‘Yes, Jack. Do step away from her. For if she does not want to shoot you, I most assuredly do.’
Tony’s voice startled her so much that she almost dropped the gun.
Seeing her indecision, Barton made a lunge for the weapon only to come up short, as Tony grabbed him by the coat collar and yanked him away from her, and back into the room. Barton tripped and landed hard on the floor, momentarily dazed.
‘Constance, if you don’t mind?’ Tony held out a hand for the gun, and she gingerly handed it to him.
He pointed it at Barton, and confided, ‘I really don’t know much more about weapons than you do, but I should hate to see you kill him, no matter how much he might deserve it. If either of us must shoot, let it be me.’
‘You’re all right,’ she breathed, leaning back to let the wall support her weight.
He reached over and yanked hard on the bell pull to summon the servants, and glanced apologetically at Constance, before focusing again on Barton. ‘I fear, darling, that I cannot keep my presence here a secret. I will need help removing this refuse from your room.
‘You will never believe the night I’ve had. First a greased drainpipe. Then a handful of broken glass. And when at last I get the damn safe open, there is no sign of the plates.’ He shook his finger at Barton.
‘You thought you had me there, I’ll wager. And perhaps, if you were decent to your servants, they’d have bothered to clear the evidence of the true hiding place out of the grate.’ He pulled a burned scrap of paper from his pocket, and held it out for Barton to see. ‘You burned a book, didn’t you? Two, actually. Volumes one and two of A History of British Currency.’
He glanced at Constance again. ‘That is Jack’s idea of wit, darling. Let us be glad you will not have to suffer with it. He ripped the books from their bindings and burned them, then wrapped the plates in the book covers and put them back on the shelves. I have spent countless hours, fiddling with picks to crack that safe, and all for no reason. The plates were in plain sight and I could have left with them at any time.’
There was a sharp knocking at the door and Constance rushed to let the servants enter. Susan entered, in her night clothes, accompanied by…
Constance stared in shock. Tony’s valet, Patrick, hair mussed and in his shirtsleeves, had followed her maid into her bedroom.
Even Tony looked surprised.
Patrick shrugged. ‘I recognised the pull on the bell rope. You ring as if you are trying to yank it off the wall. Most distinctive, sir.’
‘And you happened to be here, by fortunate coincidence?’ Tony enquired.
‘With you spending so many evenings from home, I had little to occupy my time. And it occurred to me that there might be another who would sympathise with my idleness.’
Susan giggled.
Tony struggled to find an appropriate response, before giving
