“Well, then,” Herbert’s mouth curled up in a sneer, “it would appear I am the better man.”
Slit his throat? Evie looked from one man to the other. Had Herbert’s father been a soldier for the French? Had he met McAlistair on a battlefield? That would make sense, but how would he have known it was to happen? Why would he fear for his wife and child? “I don’t understand—”
“You’ll speak when spoken to,” Herbert snapped without looking at her. “I’ve things to say to McAlistair.” He took a deep breath, as if steadying himself. “I spent years looking for you. Years hunting down every damn McAlistair I could find.” He laughed suddenly. “Would’ve bloody helped to learn earlier you spell it differently than most. Do you know how cold it is in Scotland? Sogging lot of McAlistairs there too. I was tempted to kill a few on the off chance they might be related. But then, I’d have been no better than you, would I? No worse, but no better.”
McAlistair said nothing.
Herbert shrugged. “But even the most obscure rumors eventually reach that godforsaken country. I left the moment I heard of the mysterious McAlistair, Hermit of Hal-don Hall. I assume a man like you found eating insects and picking vermin quite a step up in life?” He chuckled a little at the jab before continuing. “And still, even after taking a position at Haldon, I couldn’t find you. It didn’t help matters,” he snapped suddenly, swiveling his head to glare at Evie, “to have so little time off.”
“I…” Was she expected to say something? “I’m terribly sorry?”
Herbert snorted and turned back to McAlistair. “By the time I discovered your little cabin, you were gone. Gone.” He groaned and laughed at the same time. “Have you any idea how aggravating that was? To search so long, to come so close?” He shook his head as if dismissing the memory. “Luring you into the open remained the only avenue left to me. And you, my dear,” he said with a quick, almost appreciative glance at Evie. “You provided me with the perfect means. All it took was one glimpse of the veiled lady creeping back into her room in the dead of night to spark my interest and a quick peek in your little desk to discover what you were about.”
Evie’s stomach twisted. Her ledger, her drafts of letters to newspapers and government officials. Yes, it would have been easy to figure out what she was doing by picking the lock on her desk.
“You used her,” McAlistair growled.
“Speaking again, are we?” Herbert jeered. He shrugged. “As I said, it was the only avenue left to me. The staff could talk of little else but how you’d come out of hiding to help Lord Thurston save his pretty wife. How brave. How daring. How romantic.” He smirked. “How very convenient for me. One threat and you came running to Haldon. One shot at Miss Cole and you came running to the beach. It was indulgent of me, I know, but I needed to see you fear, just once see you fear the way my father did.”
“She’s an innocent.”
The sneer returned, colored by a hint of amusement. “Doubtful, given what I just walked in on. Now, as enjoyable as this interlude is—and it is immensely enjoyable—I fear it’s time for its inevitable conclusion. Your friend outside will realize the trail he’s following is a false one sooner or later. McAlistair, if you’ve a final word—”
“You sabotaged the carriage,” Evie said quickly. She knew she risked bringing on his wrath, but she had to do something, and since Herbert had taken every opportunity to brag, stalling him with a question seemed the best way to purchase time.
Herbert waved his hand about in false modesty. “A simple enough thing. Hadn’t expected you to run off to Suffolk, mind you, or for you to push forward so quickly after your little accident. But I had a bit of luck breaking into Thurston’s desk. Needed coin for the trip, you know, and what should I find but these lovely dears,” he waggled one gun and patted the other, “and a letter from Mrs. Summers detailing the accident and mentioning your progress to Suffolk. I left that very hour. It being my half day off, I imagine I made it all the way to Cambridgeshire before I was missed. Now then, no more questions, I’m afraid. I’m quite out of time.”
He lifted the gun and took square aim at McAlistair.
Terrified, desperate, and unable to think of another question, Evie did the only thing that came to mind.
She fainted.
Much to Evie’s dismay, it quickly became apparent that executing a proper swoon really was something a person ought to practice a time or two before attempting in public.
It was also best left to those with a soft chair or large settee at their disposal.
She hit her knee against the table leg on the way down, bent her knees in what had to have been an obvious ploy to soften her fall, and had she not thrown out her arm at the last second, would have cracked her head soundly against the wood floor.