“What’s this?” Lucian interjected sardonically. “Dissension among thieves? I should think, Sir Grayson, you would show your sister more gratitude. You could never have stolen my seal ring without her help.”
Grayson’s wrathful focus shifted, and he glared at Lucian. “Brynn had nothing whatever to do with my appropriating your ring. I took it from your study over her adamant objections, and then tricked her into keeping silent.”
“Then used it to help our country’s enemies steal a scheduled shipment of gold.”
His gaze lowered. “Apparently so. I’m not proud of that. But you cannot blame Brynn. She played no part in it.”
Lucian raised a skeptical eyebrow, unsurprised that Grayson had come so readily to her defense. “You expect me to believe you? A traitor?”
“Believe what you choose, my lord. But I am solely responsible. Brynn hasn’t been involved until tonight when I demanded that she drug you.”
Lucian’s mouth curled. “And drugging me is supposed to absolve her?”
“She did it to save your hide, to keep you safe from Caliban’s men. You’re the one who should be grateful, Wycliff.”
A strange sense of relief filled Lucian to hear Brynn’s claim repeated. Perhaps, just possibly, she wasn’t guilty of treason after all.
“I intend to deal with my wife later,” Lucian replied. “For now, you’re my chief concern. I’ll thank you to return to the house with me.”
Grayson’s shoulders slumped. “No,” he said quietly.
“It will only go harder for you if you resist.”
He offered a bitter smile. “How can anything go harder than hanging? No, I’m afraid you will have to kill me, my lord. I would sooner die from a bullet than be executed for treason.”
Brynn gasped, but her brother nodded toward Lucian’s weapon. “Go ahead and fire. I don’t intend to let you arrest me.”
She stepped forward, the lamp she carried sending shadows jumping around the cavern. “No, Lucian, you can’t. I tell you, Grayson didn’t mean to commit treason. He didn’t know what he was doing. He was only trying to pay his debts, to protect his family. Please… Gray, tell him…”
“Brynn, I want you to leave,” Lucian ordered.
“No, I can’t let you shoot him-”
“Brynn,” Grayson said gently, “being shot is a far better way to die. It would spare you the shame of my hanging, as well as keep you safe. If I’m dead, Caliban and his ilk will no longer be a threat to you and Theo.”
Lucian hesitated, feeling a grudging respect for the man he should hold only in contempt. Grayson was prepared to die, that was certain. The shame in his eyes, the misery, the quiet resignation all shouted his resolve.
That hopeless look was all too familiar, Lucian reflected with a grimace. He’d seen that same despair on the face of his friend Giles. The friend he had killed.
Flinching, Lucian steeled himself against the anguishing memory, yet for an instant he was in another time-confronting Giles for his treason, being forced to end his life. For months afterward, Lucian remembered, he’d cursed the unfairness of it. Caliban was to blame for ruining countless men, men who were basically good and honorable. The bastard had ruined Sir Grayson the same way-with threats and extortion-Lucian had no doubt.
His gaze fell to the pistol in his hand. Could he repeat the past? Could he instigate Sir Grayson’s death? It would be tantamount to murder to try to apprehend the man just now, for like Giles, Grayson wouldn’t allow himself to be taken alive.
Brynn must have had the same thought, for she moved between them, tears sparkling in her eyes.
“You can’t kill him, Lucian. Please… please, I beg you…”
“Brynn, stay out of this,” her brother commanded.
She bit back a sob, a despairing sound that tore at Lucian’s heart. Hardening his resolve, he returned his gaze to Grayson. “Where do you have the gold secreted?”
Grayson nodded toward the back of the cave. “Beneath a shallow pool of water. You should take it. There’s no longer any point in my trying to keep possession of it.”
“I presume you’re waiting for your French contact to arrive?”
“Yes. A man named Jack. He was to meet me before the tide fell too low. He should have been here by now.”
“Perhaps he’s having difficulty eluding my patrols,” Lucian remarked. “I have men posted at various intervals along the