Page 23 of Only Pleasure Will Do

Chapter 10

All the blood seemed to drain from Amorina’s head, leaving her wobbly on her feet. He could not ask this of her. Kill Duncan and his wife? Darkness wavered at the edge of her vision. Focus. She must not show emotion to this fiend. Not only would it be a sign of weakness for the cunning villain to exploit, but it would also give him pleasure to know how much he was hurting her. And that she refused to give him.

By sheer dint of will, she pulled her scattered senses back, refusing to sway, to show Tommy Redmond how much his words affected her. “How very clever of you, Mr. Redmond. Dispatch your nemesis and frame an innocent woman for the deed.”

“Oh, you won’t be innocent, I assure you, Amorina. You, and you alone, will be the culprit in the deaths of Dalbury and his bitch of a wife.” Redmond’s face contorted into a snarl as he spat out the invective. “Hanson, the satchel.”

One of Redmond’s henchmen, Robert Hanson—who’d actually been in her employ at the House of Pleasure until last August when he’d disappeared—stepped forward, carrying a black leather portmanteau. The tall, husky man seemed uncharacteristically ill at ease, shifting from foot to foot and glancing every few moments at the bag held gingerly in his hand.

“Back up.” Gesturing with the pistol, Redmond nodded to Amorina, and she immediately stumbled back off the steps and over toward where Reginald stood, his face as stony as the walls that surrounded them. Pushing Pearl before him, Redmond and his bullies strode down the steps until they all stood on the packed dirt floor. “Set it down there, Hanson.”

The henchman crept toward her, his halting footfalls sending dust up into the air. As if handling a delicate piece of china, he bent his knees and carefully set the bag on the floor in front of her then backed away, relief flooding his features.

Dread seeped into her as Amorina contemplated the well-worn satchel, her brows knitting into a deep frown. What did the bag contain that made Hanson—for whom the phrase “bull in a china cabinet” might’ve been invented—so very cautious in his manner? She glanced at Redmond, whose eyes sparkled with glee. “What is that?”

“A devilish little device that will bring about the swift demise of all who come into contact with it once it’s set into motion.” He grinned widely. “A product of my imagination as I lay in a sick bed for months on end, dreaming about how to exact my revenge on Duncan and Katarina.” The smile disappeared, replaced by a snarl and narrowed eyes. “Once the agony of my wound subsided enough that I no longer required the daily administration of laudanum, my mind cleared sufficiently to allow me to plot their deaths and at the same time implicate you.” The grin returned, though not quite as cheerful as before. “I was watching the fireworks on Guy Fawkes Day in November when the idea occurred to me.”

Suspicion dawning, Amorina took a step backward, bumping into Reginald. He put a hand out to steady her, the brief contact warming her for a fleeting moment.

Tommy Redmond nodded at the bag. “What if I filled a firework with gunpowder and lobbed it at the Dalburys? Not a sophisticated method, but likely effective if they were directly hit. But how could I be assured they would be? I needed some device to deliver the explosive that was interesting enough to them to ensure they would be drawn close to it. And what more perfect thing than a present in honor of their newborn child?”

Amorina gasped, her hand going to her mouth to stifle the sound. Did he wish to kill the child as well?

The wide grin had returned to Redmond’s face. “Yes, felicitations are in order for Duncan. He sent a note around to Father more than two weeks ago, telling him that his son had been born. The happy couple and their offspring have now removed to London, preparing to sail for Italy at the end of the month. Pity Father’s been in Scotland since March and therefore will not be able to congratulate his godson.”

The grin faded as Redmond focused his attention on Amorina. “Because it’s taken me so long to secure both you and your daughter, our time has grown short. Duncan is set to sail in less than ten days, so we must act now.” He gestured to the satchel. “Open it.”

Amorina’s heart stuttered. From the way Hanson had handled the bag, it contained something extremely delicate and dangerous. She took a step back, shaking her head. “No.”

“Do it.” The steely eyes pierced her, giving no quarter. “Would I be fool enough to tell you to open it if it were likely to kill us?”

That was a good point, Hanson’s apprehension notwithstanding. Gingerly, she stepped toward the innocuous bag, bent down, and undid the buckle. Holding her breath, Amorina pulled up the flap and spread the mouth of the bag wide. A glint of gold took her by surprise. “What is it?”

“Remove it. I need to explain how it works.” Redmond’s matter-of-fact tone showed no fear of the object.

Taking heart from that, Amorina reached into the satchel with both hands, grasped cold metal carved with a myriad of curlicues, and pulled it out of the bag. The triangular item, quite heavy in her hands, gave her pause for a moment as her fear kept her from recognizing the thing she held. “It’s a clock?”

Intricately fashioned of metal with a pure gold finish, the oblong base of the pyramid had four legs decorated with flowers and leaves above which sat a standard clock face with Roman numerals, set into what appeared to be a boulder. Perched on the rock and forming the peak of the pyramid was the sculpted figure of the Madonna and Child. Quite a lovely object d’arte, obviously expensive. And according to Redmond, extremely deadly.

“It is indeed a clock, my dear Amorina. How astute of you.” Her captor chuckled and pointed with the pistol. “You will deliver this very special timepiece to the Marchioness of Dalbury. Tell her it is a gift for her and her husband on the occasion of the birth of their son and heir. Say it is your wish that she and Duncan enjoy the lullaby it’s been designed to play in the nursery with their child.”

Dear God, he intended to murder all three of them, as well as anyone else in the house. Amorina bit her lip until she tasted blood to keep from screaming at the madman before her. Calm. Only show him a calm, compliant face. “Why would the marchioness see me, Mr. Redmond?” She replaced the clock in the bag and took a step back. “I’m not the type of woman who usually calls on her.”

“Perhaps not.” Redmond’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. Had she made a misstep somehow? “However, you are the person who assisted in her rescue last August. You’ve also done her several personal favors over the course of the year.”

Amorina clenched her jaw. How had he come by that information? Was someone in Duncan’s household in Redmond’s employ? “Very slight favors.”

“I wouldn’t call hiding Duncan’s sister when she was fleeing her husband a small favor.” He nodded to Reginald. “A magistrate might even call it a trespass of the law.”

“As the man turned out not to be married to her, I think that point is moot.”

“And my point is that the Marchioness of Dalbury seems rather fond of you. In your debt, in fact. I think if you asked for her, she would see you.” Redmond shrugged. “If she does not, leave it with the servants with instructions for her and Duncan to listen to it in the nursery that evening.”

A blackness as deep as a starless night settled on Amorina’s soul. How could she do such a thing to the marchioness and her child? To Duncan, for whom she still bore a deep fondness? The horror of what this monster was demanding seeped into Amorina’s heart, freezing it. “And if I refuse?”

Smoothly, Redmond raised the pistol and pressed it to Pearl’s head.

“Mama!” Tears streamed down the child’s face as she reached out to Amorina.