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“My father. It’s difficult to see him with another woman. Yet he’s so happy.”
“Then you need to be happy for him.”
Evan nodded, his eyes sunken. “I haven’t found that happiness. I wanted it with Rose, but it wasn’t there. It was never there. I envy you, Price. And I envy my father. You’re right, of course. I need to be happy for him. And I know that, in my heart.”
“It will take a little time to get used to. But you will. Listen, I—”
“Mr. Price, I presume?”
Cam and Evan both looked toward the door as it locked again with a click. Cameron inhaled a sharp breath. A balding man stood, gun in his hand, and this was no dueling pistol.
“Who are you?” Cameron asked, his stomach churning again.
“You are Cameron Price?” the stranger said again.
Cameron gulped. “I am.”
“Then I suppose I’m your cousin. Or second cousin once or twice removed or some such. Dorrance Adams.”
“Ah. You’re the imbecile.” The words popped out before Cameron could stop them.
“Seeing as how you’re the one with a gun pointed at you, I’d say it’s debatable who the imbecile is here.” Adams advanced. “I’ve no concern with you”—he gestured to Evan—“but as I can’t have witnesses, I have no choice but to dispose of you both. And I plan to do a better job than I did with your father all those years ago.”
“My father?” Cameron shook his head, his ears ringing. “You’ve got it all wrong. My father only died seven years ago.”
“Yes, unfortunately, I found that out recently. The men I hired were supposed to kill him.”
“The men you hired?” Cameron’s mind raced. Was his grandfather not responsible? “I was told my mother’s father—”
“I’m afraid not. I’ve done some research over the past couple weeks. All the good baronet did was throw your parents out of his house. The beating was my doing, though obviously those I entrusted it to didn’t get the job done. Which is why I came for you myself. You won’t be getting out of this stable alive, Price.”
“What’s this about, Price?” Evan asked, slowly moving along the wall of the stable, farther away from Cameron.
“I’ll explain later, God willing,” Cameron said, his heart hammering. Keep him talking. Think of Rose and the babe. “Look,” he said to Adams, “if it’s the marquessate you want, you can have it. I don’t even want it.” Don’t mention Rose. If he knows about the babe— Cameron couldn’t complete the thought.
Adams let out a sigh. “If only it were that simple, Price. But it isn’t. You’re going to have to go.” He raised his hand.
Like a cyclone, Evan flew toward Adams and tackled him to the ground with a thundering thud. Adams thrashed around under Evan’s mass, unable to move, and a shot fired from the gun into the ceiling. The horses thrashed and whinnied in their stalls. Cameron stood, immobile, his body numb.
“Get the bloody gun, Price,” came Evan’s muffled voice.
Cameron jolted back into awareness and ran toward the mass of limbs. Where was the gun? When he finally spied it in Adams’s right hand, he focused on it and kicked as hard as he could. The gun rattled across the dirt. Cam scurried forward, grabbed it, and held it on the still-thrashing duo.
“I’ve got it, Xavier. You can get off him.”
Evan landed a few ham-fisted punches to Adams’s face and then rose. Adams writhed on the dirt.
“Your bravery was humbling,” Cam said to Evan. “I’m in your debt.”
Evan shook his head as he rubbed his hands together. “Call it even. I’m not sure what got into me earlier. I’m truly sorry.”
“Price, are you all right?” The Duke of Lybrook burst in with three servants in tow.
“Yes, yes, I’m fine.” Cam brushed off his jacket. “Thanks to Xavier.”
“But Rose said—”
“That was a misunderstanding,” Cameron said. “But you’ll need to summon the authorities.” He pointed to the ground “This man is Dorrance Adams, and he tried to kill both Xavier and me.”
