He went in. Harry came with him. Webb made to follow and a pistol appeared from behind the door and pressed itself to the base of Webb’s skull.
“Just the two gentlemen,” Penharrow said, still in that pleasant, conversational tone. “Your man is welcome to wait in the corridor, provided he remains cooperative.”
Webb’s eyes met Oliver’s over the barrel of the weapon.
“Stay,” Oliver said quietly.
The door closed.
* * *
Megan wasin the corner of the room.
She had positioned herself there deliberately, Oliver understood, because it was the only place in the room she could stand with a wall at her back and a clear view of everything in front of her. She was pale and still and entirely upright, and when she saw Oliver, her eyes moved over him with a swift, precise assessment that told him she was already calculating rather than simply afraid.
She was alive. She was unhurt.
He allowed himself exactly one moment to register that factbefore he made himself look away from her, because looking at her was what Penharrow wanted.
The room contained four of them and two of Penharrow’s men, one near the door and one stationed by the window where the light came in grey and flat through the closed curtain. Penharrow himself stood in the center of the room with his hands loose at his sides and the air of a man who had arranged everything very carefully and was now prepared to enjoy the result.
He was, Oliver had always known, a man who liked an audience.
“Well,” Penharrow said, looking between Oliver and Harry with that mild, observational pleasure that Oliver had long since understood was far more dangerous than rage. “The Marquess of Astor and the Duke of Newbury in the same room. I feel quite honored. Though I confess, gentlemen, that your arrival was somewhat quicker than I had anticipated. I expected more caution from men of your intelligence.”
“Where’s the performance in caution?” Harry said.
Penharrow smiled. It was a smile Oliver recognized, the kind that involved only the lower half of the face. “Your sister has some of the same directness. An admirable quality. I have always found it rather refreshing in her, though not especially convenient.”
He turned to Megan then, and Oliver watched Megan hold very still under that gaze with the practiced composure of a woman who had spent many years learning not to flinch.
“My dear,” Penharrow said. “As I mentioned to you earlier, it seems we find ourselves at something of an impasse. The gentlemen have arrived as expected, and I have my men, and they have presumably men of their own in the corridor and very likely several more positions around this building.” He spread his hands in a gesture of reasonable consideration. “I am not a fool. I am aware that this is not a sustainable position.”
“Then stand aside,” Oliver said.
“I’m afraid that option has some difficulties attached to it.” Penharrow reached inside his coat and produced two pistols, one of which he turned over in his hands with the careful attention of a man who handled weapons regularly. “You see, my position requires a certain clarity of resolution. If I simply stand aside, I face a court, a trial, and the particular enthusiasm with which the Duke of Newbury will prosecute my case. His Grace looks, if you will forgive me, like a man with considerable enthusiasm.” He glanced at Harry. “Am I wrong?”
Harry said nothing.
“Quite.” Penharrow turned back to Megan. “So it seems we require a different solution.” He held the pistol out to her, grip first, with an almost courteous gesture. “I find myself in a generous mood, my dear. A choice. Choose which of these gentlemen you would like to live, and then you will kill the other. If you decline to choose, I will simply shoot them both and leave you to consider the consequences of your obstinacy.”
The room was very quiet.
Oliver looked at Megan.
She was looking at the pistol.
Megan had known,from the moment Penharrow had told her what he intended, that this was not a real choice. That had been the first thing her mind had produced, clear and cold as spring water.He will kill them both. He will kill you. There is no version of this in which he allows any of you to walk out of this room.
He would take her and her happiness with him because he knew the game was over.
She had spent the intervening time thinking about what was actually possible.
She reached out and took the pistol.
It was heavier than she remembered. Oliver had given her agun as they fled Wales, although she’d had little time to learn to shoot it. The weight of it was familiar in the way that unpleasant things were familiar, known, but not wanted.
She held it in both hands and looked at Oliver.
