Page 55 of Winterset

Kate

The cloth binding my wrists bit into my skin. I wriggled my hands, trying to loosen the restraint, but it did not relieve the discomfort.

“Don’t bother,” Markham said. “Even if you got it off, I would put it right back on. I’d tie it tighter too.”

“Why are you doing this?” I asked. “I left. I posed you no threat.”

“Because the only thing I dislike more than being lied to, Miss Lockwood, is being made a fool. I won’t allow that to happen again.”

“What is it you plan to do with me?”

“That is the question, isn’t it?” He released a heavy breath, fogging the window. “I could make you marry me. You are still quite pretty.”

“You cannot make me marry you, Markham.”

“I think I could. You would do anything to save your precious Mr. Jennings, would you not?

“Don’t touch him,” I said through gritted teeth.

“I thought so.” Markham grinned. “Unfortunately, I am not offering you marriage. I thought about it and even made Mr. Jennings believe that was my intention. But you are mad, Miss Lockwood. I could never tarnish the title I have sacrificed so much to secure.”

“A title that I suspect you did not rightly inherit but stole.”

“I did not steal anything. I earned it. My father was an old man. He had no use for it. And my brother was an imbecile who did not deserve the honor. I had no choice. I had to protect the title. I made sure they felt no pain.”

“Do you mean to murder me too?” I asked.

“Who said anything about murder?” Markham’s laughter filled the carriage.

“You have quite an imagination, Miss Lockwood. But no matter how tempting it might be, even I would not kill a woman. I do have some morals.” He shook his head, still chuckling to himself.

“You are right about one thing, however: I do mean to silence you. I cannot risk anyone discovering you are alive. Not only would that harm my reputation, but you might also tell someone of your suspicions about how I came to hold the title. You understand.”

“So what will you do with me, then?”

“I am taking my ward ”—he winked at me as if letting me in on a secret—“to an asylum for the insane.”

“You cannot.”

“I am a baron, Miss Lockwood, a wealthy one. I can do almost anything I want. Don’t worry though; it is a quaint place set upon a cliff in Scotland. There you can say anything you like, and no one will believe a word you say.”

“I am not insane.”

“I disagree. No sane person would fake their own death and hide for two years. You are mad, Miss Lockwood. You must see this as the kindness it is.”

“It is prison.”

“That too.” He smirked. “You must admit, though, my plan is brilliant, don’t you think? I get to keep a clear conscience, and you get to keep your life.”

“You won’t get away with this.”

“I have already gotten away with it. Don’t forget, you have already been dead for two years.”

“Oliver will find me.”

“Oh, I am counting on it,” Markham said, glancing out the side glass. “To be honest, I expected him already.”

My gaze snapped to Markham’s. “What do you mean?”

“You must consider me slow of mind if you think I did not expect him to come after you,” he said.

“Why do you think I waited to take you until after he arrived at Summerhaven? My dear, I all but told him where I was taking you. If your Mr. Jennings does not find you, he is a great deal denser than I’ve given him credit for.

If that worthless, waste of a man ruins my chance to use my dueling pistols tonight, I will be most disappointed. ”

This was a game to him. He was enjoying this.

“What do you want?” I asked.

“Were you not listening to a word I said?” he hissed, the corners of his mouth curling in contempt. “I told you I want to use my dueling pistols, and I want you silenced in an asylum.”

“I will be silent,” I pleaded. “Only please, please , don’t hurt Oliver.”

Markham sighed and looked heavenward. “I don’t know what women see in that man.

In either of the Jennings men. An earl who refuses to use his title and a second son who is too weak to defend it.

” He looked disgusted. “I did try to school Mr. Jennings the first night we met in the tavern. And do you know what he did? He had the audacity to look down his nose at me , a peer of the realm. I would be doing the crown a favor to dispatch them both. Then the title could be given to someone deserving.”

Until this moment, I’d been praying Oliver would come for me. That he would find me, subdue Markham, and bring me home. Now I prayed he would take the wrong road, that I would disappear into the night, and that he would remain safe.

But then I heard a noise outside, a horse, and the carriage swerved.

Markham looked out the window and grinned. “It appears your Mr. Jennings has finally found you. What do you think? Should I shoot him right away? Or should I make him suffer?”

I stared into Markham’s soulless eyes. “You are a monster.”

“Only to those who cross me, Miss Lockwood.” Markham alerted the driver to stop. And as the carriage slowed, he leaned forward, feeling for his pistol box.

Seeing an opportunity, I slammed my knee into his nose.

“ Lud !” Blood burst from his nostrils like water from a fountain. As he fumbled for his handkerchief, I slid toward the door, and when he tipped back his head to stop the bleeding, I opened the door and jumped.

As soon as I landed, I ran toward the back of the carriage, where Oliver was dismounting his horse. He ran toward me and caught me in his arms. He kissed my brow, my cheeks, my lips.

“Are you hurt?” He put a fraction of space between us and took in my tear-streaked face and the cloth tying my hands. Oliver cursed. “I’ll kill him.”

“No.” I glanced over my shoulder at the open carriage door. “Markham h-has his dueling pistols and means to make you suffer. Please, let’s go.”

But Oliver’s eyes suddenly tracked something over my shoulder.

I turned and saw Markham calmly alighting from the carriage, looking like he hadn’t a care in the world. A pistol dangled in each of his hands. “So good of you to finally join us, Mr. Jennings.”

Oliver stood in front of me like a shield, working to untie my hands. “I want you to run, Kate,” he whispered. “Run and hide in the woods.”

“Not without you.”

“I can’t defend either of us if I am worried for your safety. If you love me, you will run and hide, Kate.” He kissed my knuckles. “Please.”

“I do love you.”

“Then run. Go. Now !”

Terrified to be a distraction and endanger him even more, I ran as fast as my feet would carry me to the trees lining the side of the road and then a little farther to hide behind a fallen tree.

I watched from my vantage point as Markham approached Oliver.

“Shall we settle this like gentlemen, with a duel?” Oliver said to Markham.

Markham laughed. “I will tell you the same thing I told the late Mr. Lockwood: I am not going to fight you for what is rightfully already mine.” Markham aimed the pistol at Oliver. “Any last words, Jennings?”

No. No, no, no.

“You are a coward, Markham. A second-born son of a baron without any courage. You do not deserve the title you bear. No true peer of the realm would kill a man in cold blood.”

Markham seemed to consider this. “Perhaps you’re right,” he said. “Not about deserving my title, of course, but about killing you. Unfortunately, we don’t have our seconds or a doctor.”

“Does that frighten you?” Oliver challenged.

“Not at all, but it should scare you. I am an excellent shot. But if a duel is how you wish to die, I will not deny you. My driver will witness the duel so no foul play occurs.” He motioned the driver down from his perch.

The man took his place off to the side, and Markham shoved one of the pistols into Oliver’s chest. “Ten paces, turn, and fire.”

Oliver checked the gun, and then they stood back-to-back and began counting their paces.

“One!” they called.

My pulse pounded with panic. This was a trap; I did not know how, but Markham was not a man of honor, and he would not let Oliver win. He would shoot him and delight in watching him suffer as he had done before with my father.

“Two!”

For so long, I’d been afraid of Markham.

But as I hid in the woods, I realized that my love for Oliver outweighed my fear of Markham.

And in that moment, I knew that in order to truly live, I could not be afraid to die.

Markham may know much about malice and murder, but he knew nothing about love and sacrifice.

“Three!”

Digging deep within myself, I found the courage to face my fears and sprang from my hiding spot.

“Four!”

I sprinted toward the stretch of road where the men were taking their steps.

“Five!”

Then, five seconds too soon, Markham turned and aimed his pistol at Oliver’s back.