Zeb stood up, pulled out the sides of his coat, and flapped them, then pulled them higher so his gun-free waist could be seen. He opened the front of the coat. “What gun?”
“You have it,” Wynn said. “You took it.”
“No, I did not. Because someone who goes around with a gun is someone who wants to hurt or threaten people, and I don’t.”And also I can spot a bear trap when one is set for me, you smug prick.
“Of course you have it,” Wynn said, sounding just a touch off-balance. “It isn’t there.”
The gong boomed in the hall. Zeb glanced at the clock. It was barely twelve, which was early for lunchtime—
The signal. Oh God, that must be Rachel’s signal. He had to go.
“What was that?” Wynn said, with a frown.
“I have no idea where your gun is, Wynn. You should be more careful.” Zeb needed Wynn not to pay attention to the gong, and even more, he needed to get out of here. “I expect Hawley took it.”
“Hawley?”
“Why not? He doesn’t mind hurting people. And you’ve made him pretty desperate, haven’t you? I don’t know what you’ve been giving him—oh, is it in those ghastly cigarettes?” He glanced back at Bram, recognizing the vagueness in his face. “You’ve got them both smoking it. Clever. Anyway, he’s not making much sense, so if someone’s running around with the gun you left lying about, it’s probably him.”
The footman’s expression hardened menacingly. Zeb might have felt guilty, but he needed to get back to Gideon now,now, and everything else was secondary.
“Yes,” Wynn said. “Yes, that will be it. Hawley has it. And I don’t know where Jessamine is. She has changed her mind, Bram, she no longer wants this foolish engagement to Hawley. If he has taken her somewhere secluded—if he thinks to compromise her and force her into marriage, so he can steal your inheritance—”
“The swine.” Bram rose heavily to his feet. “I will not have it. He has no right.”
“Save her. You will have it all, if you find him and save her.”
“Don’t listen, Bram,” Zeb said. “He’s trying to make us all fight, and you’re falling for it.”
Wynn shot him a nasty look. “You are a coward. Bram willplay the man’s part here. Find Hawley, Bram. Take the poker. You can’t trust him. Don’t give him a chance.”
Bram picked up the poker. Zeb said, hopelessly, “Don’t.”
He might as well not have spoken. Bram walked out of the room like an automaton. Wynn went with him. Zeb made to go too, and found the footman in his way. As he tried to get round, Jessamine stepped into the room. Bram must have walked right past her.
She looked at Zeb, a little smile curving her lips, and he had no idea how he’d ever seen the innocent schoolgirl.
“Please,” he said. “Let us go. Whatever you’re doing, Wynn’s doing—I just want to leave. I don’t want the money.”
“Don’t you?” she said. “I do. Lock him in.”
“No!” Zeb yelped. He tried to rush forward, and the footman pushed him back, a sharp, hard shove not to his shoulder but to his face. The shock of it along with the force sent Zeb stumbling back.
“Nothing personal, Cousin Zeb,” Jessamine said, and shut the door. He heard the scrape of a key in the lock.
No.
He rattled the door handle, then tugged. It didn’t budge. He thought about kicking it in, but the doorjamb was on the wrong side, the door looked like oak, and he’d never kicked in a door in his life. Of all the useful skills not to have.
“Hey!” he shouted. “Let me out!”
Nobody answered. That wasn’t really a surprise.
Window. Zeb ran to it and stopped dead, because he noticedfor the first time that it wasn’t a sash window. It was divided into twelve panes, all in one large frame. It didn’t bloody open.
He could break it. He could take the chair and put it through the window, smashing out the glass and woodwork until he’d made a hole he could escape through. And Wynn’s vengeful staff would hear him do it, because they could hardly not, and they would come out after him, and if Gideon was taking the opportunity to escape that Zeb had thrown away for his stupid, greedy, murdering big brother, they’d catch him too.
Not the window, then.
