Page 63 of The Nanny’s Handbook to Magic and Managing Difficult Dukes
In Which Vermin Appear; Things Get Decidedly Hot (and Not in a Good Way); And Daggers Are Shot before a Tallyho and Toodle-oo…
If he’d been asked, Xavier couldn’t say he was surprised to learn that Sir Randolph Redvers was the blackguard who’d been waging an insidious war against him for months and months.
He’d also admit that, unsurprisingly, he was right royally peeved with the baronet.
Actually, that was a gross understatement.
If truth be told, Xavier was gripped by a blazing white-hot anger, a fury hotter than the fire currently consuming his home.
After all, Sir Randolph had a pistol trained on the woman Xavier loved and wanted to make his wife.
Surely no one could blame him for wanting to gut the bastard with a blunt butter knife.
Though, that’s rather difficult to do right now , he thought as he reluctantly put his hands in the air. But he could certainly think it.
“So, it’s you who’s been a thorn in my side all this time,” Xavier bit out from a jaw so tightly clenched, he could crush gravel between his molars.
Sir Randolph had the audacity to laugh. “I’m surprised you didn’t work it out before now, old chap.” He tapped his temple with a gloved finger. “But by all accounts you’re a few cards short of a full deck. Isn’t that right, Algie?”
Algie?
Whipping his gaze to the study door behind him, Xavier discovered his cousin Algernon Mason had stepped into the room. And he, too, was holding a pistol.
“Surprised to see me, cuz?” taunted Algernon as he approached the desk and propped a hip on the edge.
“I suppose you didn’t know that Randy and I are old school chums.” His cold derisive gaze slid to Emmeline.
“I must admit I was surprised to learn from your maid Fanny earlier tonight that your nanny’s back in London.
But then”—his mouth twisted with a predatory smile—“perhaps the rumors are true and she’s more than just a nanny. ”
If words could physically wound, then the string of filthy curse words Xavier let fly in his head would have felled his cur of a cousin in a split second.
It seemed there’d been a two-pronged conspiracy all along and Xavier had no idea how he was going to get out of this deadly trap he’d walked straight into, let alone save the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.
Guilt and despair suddenly clawed at Xavier’s chest, but he would not be defeated. Not while love still beat in his heart. Not while he still had breath in his body and his soul possessed the will to fight for everything he held dear.
Stalling seemed like the best option at the present moment. Perhaps Woodley or Babcock would come looking for him after all. Or someone from the fire brigade.
He wouldn’t do anything foolhardy and risk Emmeline’s life. He also wouldn’t show one iota of fear.
“Algernon,” he said, his voice dripping with all the frosty ducal disdain he could muster, “I suppose you got tired of waiting for me to appear mad enough for you to haul before the Chancery Court for a lunacy investigation trial. So instead you’re going to take matters into your own hands and make me die in a fire à la Mrs. Bertha Rochester. I assume that’s your insane plan.”
His cousin smirked. “Something like that. Although I’d call it brilliant rather than insane. Dearest Papa kept dithering about whether or not he wanted to have you declared non compos mentis. Even after I’d amassed ample evidence that you’re as nutty as a fruitcake.”
“He’s not mad at all,” retorted Emmeline heatedly, her blue eyes flashing.
“You’ve both been paying off his servants, Ollie and Fanny, to disrupt His Grace’s household to make him look bad.
You”—she glared at Algernon—“so you could steal his dukedom away. And you”—her gaze shot to Sir Randolph—“to stop him submitting his Westminster clock design. You’re both despicable and pathetic. ”
“Well, aren’t we clever?” taunted Algernon. “If you think you’ve got it all worked out, what do you think will happen next, Nanny Chase?”
Emmeline blanched and bit her lip. Xavier knew she couldn’t give voice to the terrible truth.
Algernon and Sir Randolph were undoubtedly going to attempt to kill them both.
Not only did Xavier and Emmeline know too much about the sabotage plot, killing the Duke of St Lawrence would also mean that Algernon and Sir Randolph would get exactly what they wanted a lot quicker.
Algernon would inherit the dukedom after his father, Peregrine, passed. And Sir Randolph’s main rival for the Westminster Palace clock commission would be eliminated once and for all.
Sir Randolph gave a dramatic sigh. “Look, it doesn’t matter whether or not you two know why dear old Algie and I hatched this plan almost a year ago.
The simple fact is, it’s time for you to die.
Actually”—his dark eyes narrowed—“before we tie you up to let the fire finish you off, what’s that you’ve got tucked beneath your arm there, Mad Mason?
That wouldn’t happen to be your King of Clocks design, would it? ”
Xavier cocked a brow. “Why would you want the horological plans of a lunatic?”
The baronet shrugged. “Call it curiosity. And perhaps I can incorporate some of your ideas into my own design. When Algie and I set the fire, I had thought to let your plans burn along with you. But then I changed my mind.”
Emmeline glared at the baronet. “I’m surprised you two didn’t get one of your henchmen like West or one of your other hirelings to do your dirty work for you.”
“Couldn’t afford for anyone to make a hash of the final act, my dear.” Sir Randolph pointed his weapon straight at Xavier. “Now hand those plans over, Your Grace, before I decide to put a bullet through your brain instead. You’ve wasted enough of my time with all this talking.”
Even though every fiber within him was vibrating with burning anger, Xavier tossed his plans at the baronet. Sir Randolph grinned and slid them into the breast pocket of his greatcoat.
Algernon straightened and gestured toward the jib door with his pistol.
“Right, now into the Horology Room with you two. And yes, cuz,” he added in a withering tone, “I know all about your special little secret room. A total waste of money, collecting something as useless as a pile of old watches and clocks, if you ask me.”
“Useless?” muttered Emmeline, her narrowed eyes shooting daggers at Algernon as they complied with his directions. “I can think of someone, or rather a pair of someones, who are utterly useless.”
Once they were all in the Horology Room, Xavier and Emmeline were ordered to stand in the center of the chamber where the painted night sky soared above the quartet of fluted marble columns.
Sir Randolph waggled his brows at Emmeline as he tucked his pistol into his coat, then withdrew a sizeable length of rope.
“Such a shame I’m having to tie you up for the sole purpose of doing away with you, Nanny Chase,” he said as he lashed her wrists together about one of the slender columns.
“You’re just afraid that I might knock your block off after seeing me take down your hired thug in the middle of Hyde Park,” she retorted. “You too, Algie. ” The fiery glare she shot at Xavier’s cousin should have been enough to singe the prat’s eyebrows off.
The baronet snorted. “Hardly,” he snapped back as he ruthlessly tightened the rope, pulling a muttered curse from Emmeline. He patted her cheek. “Now, be a good girl and die quickly and quietly.”
Undaunted, she tossed her head. “Oh, sod off.”
“You won’t get away with this,” growled Xavier as Sir Randolph tied him up in a similar fashion to the pillar opposite Emmeline’s. The air was getting smokier by the minute, and he was having trouble suppressing the urge to cough.
“Mmmm, I think we will,” remarked Algernon with a smug grin. He pocketed his own pistol in his coat and rubbed his hands together. “Right-o, pip-pip and tallyho, Randy my old friend. I think it’s time for us to beat a hasty retreat before we’re trapped in this burning house with this sorry pair.”
“Toodle-oo, my loves,” called Sir Randolph, blowing them a kiss before the jib door to the study swung shut with a dull thud.