Harrington gave him an indulgent look. “Surely, you don't think I was foolish enough to come here without informing someone?"
“That is exactly what I think," her father replied. "It's likely the only person you informed was Mallory, and, should you not return, he would gladly consign you to the devil.”
Lord Harrington laughed. “Mallory is a good fellow, but certainly not the man to trust in such matters.”
Who might Harrington have trusted? Phoebe looked at Lord Stoneleigh. What was the earl doing here?
“It is not I our dear Lord Harrington speaks of,” Lord Stoneleigh said, clearly noticing her glance. “I am but a spectator.”
Lord Harrington snorted. “I am aware of the connection between Stoneleigh and Ashlund. I had no intention of entrusting my fate to him. Besides, it isn't Lord Stoneleigh wants.”
“Perhaps not,” the earl agreed.
Phoebe could no longer stand the suspense. “What's going on?” she demanded.
“Later, my dear,” Kiernan said quietly.
Before she could reply, Lord Harrington said to her father, “You stand accused of treason. It pains me, but the evidence against you is too great to ignore.”
“Evidence you created,” she cut in.
His eyes shifted onto her. "Beware, Lady Ashlund, you don't want to be found guilty of treason, as well."
“There is a great deal of evidence that says my father isn't guilty, sir. But his innocence isn't the question. The question is: why are you here?”
“He’s here to kill me,” her father said.
“His attempt to assassinate you at the dock failed. I am asking why he is here, in this room.”
“Lord Harrington has come to guarantee his safe retreat," Lord Stoneleigh said.
“No one will accost you,” her father said. “None of our men, that is. I cannot vouch for others.”
Harrington inclined his head. “That is all I ask.”
Phoebe glanced around the room in shock. "You can't just let him go."
Her father regarded her. “What would you have me do, kill him in cold blood?”
“I-I don’t know, but to simply release him. What about the penal colony in Australia?”
“A man of his stature would attract far too much attention,” Kiernan said.
“By heavens,” she murmured.
“Exactly,” her father replied."
“It's time you retired, Mason,” Lord Harrington said.
Her father smiled, and Phoebe glimpsed a hint of the young man whose portrait hung over the mantle in her uncle’s home. “I have no intention of allowing you to manipulate more men into the gallows.”
"You and I both know Thistlewood was mad."
"The ends do not justify the means."
Lord Harrington straightened. “I am in the Queen’s service. It is my duty to seek out and destroy all dissidents.”
“My God." Her father shook his head. "You’re as mad as Thistlewood was. Go home. You’ve done enough damage—” he glanced at her “—for a lifetime." He looked back at Harrington. "Don’t come back. I won’t be here, but others will be. And, Ronald, should you give me reason, I will return to England and kill you.”
"You?" He gave a derisive laugh. "I wager you still don’t own a pistol."
Her father stared, an answering glitter in his eyes. A thrill shot through Phoebe.
"If I hear so much as a whisper from you against my daughter, I will kill you," he said.
"Not to worry." Kiernan interjected. "I own a very respectable arsenal of pistols and I don't suffer the same aversion to violence that Mason does. Now, there's ship bound for England. I can get you aboard."
Harrington’s jaw visibly tightened.
“Excellent,” Her father stood and started toward the two men.
Phoebe jumped to her feet. “Don't think for a moment you're leaving me behind.” She followed her father to the door.
Kiernan grasped her arm. “My dear—”
“Unless you intend on tying me up, I am going,” she said.
"The idea does hold some appeal," he replied.
"I assure you, sir, it does not."
Kiernan sighed, and she disengaged her arm, then cast an inquiring look at her father. He smiled in amusement, then inclined his head in acquiescence.
“You won’t accompany us, Regan?” Kiernan asked.
The earl stretched his legs and shook his head. “If you don’t mind, I think I’ll stay here and better acquaint myself with this establishment.”
They headed out the door into the hallway where the bodyguard opened the front door for them. Phoebe started forward, but Kiernan grasped her arm.
“If you don't mind,” he said, “Lord Harrington will go first.”
“Then I will follow,” her father said.
“Far be it from me to disagree with my father-in-law,” Kiernan replied, keeping a grip on her arm.
“Ronald.” Her father waved him forward.
“You have become suspicious in your old age,” Lord Harrington commented, and stepped from the house onto the walkway. He tugged his coat closed and began buttoning it against the chill afternoon air.
Her father paused for a fraction of a second, then started out the door. Kiernan took a step forward.
A shot rang out.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO