The man laughed again, although this time, his lips pulled thin and an ugly expression crossed his face. “Revenge,” he said, simply, waving Robert towards a chair opposite Miss Hemmingway. “I have followed you ever since I discovered that it was you who was responsible. I have calculated and deliberated for some time until I was able to come up with a plan that would have you lost in confusion as you tried to understand all that was going on around you.”
“A plan that involved Lord Hamilton,” Robert said, bluntly, looking into Miss Hemmingway’s eyes and praying that she could continue to remain strong whilst he tried to not only extract the truth from this fellow but also find way to ensure she was kept quite safe. “You used him to reach me.”
The man shrugged. “I am not of a high enough title to join the upper classes of London society,” he said, tightly, his face still awash with ugliness. “I needed someone who would do so. Luckily, I was attending the very same house party as he and was very easily able to surmise what was developing between himself and Miss Swift.” Another low chuckle, as though he found Lord Hamilton’s actions to be of mirth. “It was easy to rein him in after that.”
Robert gritted his teeth, seeing Miss Hemmingway close her eyes, wincing as the knife pressed a little harder at her neck. “But why?” he asked, not looking to his left but wondering if Lord Monteforte or Lord Millerton would enter the room in a burst of sound in order to distract the fellow. It would be risky but he could not see what else they could do. “Why would you pursue me with such force?”
“Because I wanted you to suffer!” the man exclaimed, his voice now ripping through the room, his face dark with anger. “I followed you. I saw you meet with others. I knew what you had done and guessed you would continue with your investigations, whatever they were.” He sucked in air, trembling visibly with fury. “I wanted you not only to fail but to pay the price for what you had done.”
“And so you led me a merry chase,” Robert interrupted, seeing the knife slip a little lower on Miss Hemmingway’s neck as the man lost his concentration as he focused all of his attention onto Robert. “You have involved others, so that you could step back and watch it all from a distance.”
The man grinned horribly. “The emblem was meant to distract you and it did precisely that,” he said, slowly. “That gave me such satisfaction that I –”
“You had Taylor shoot through Lord Watt’s window,” Robert interrupted, seeing the man start visibly at the mention of Taylor’s name. “Why did you do so? Because you had seen me enter?” He watched the fellow frown but continued to ask his questions. “What if I had not been the one to look into what had occurred?”
The man shrugged, although his brows still remained furrowed. “Then I would have done something else, or something more, until you were involved in some way,” he answered, his words spiked with hatred. “It had to be you, Lord Franks. I had to see you chasing this, pursuing this, so that I might be the one to watch you fail time and again.” He chuckled and Robert felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. “And you did fail, did you not?”
Robert did not answer, his jaw working furiously.
“You failed in protecting Lord Millerton,” the man continued, with a smirk. “You left him in the carriage, thinking that I was there to help you. What a fool you were!” He laughed harshly and it was all Robert could do to keep himself in his seat, seeing how Miss Hemmingway closed her eyes, clearly trying to keep her composure. “I took the box that you had stolen from Lord Hamilton. I removed the contents.” His lip curled. “Lord Hamilton made a grievous mistake in leaving both the notes and the handkerchief in that box. Thankfully, Taylor’s loyalty is easily bought. He acted swiftly, else my plans might have been thrown into disarray.” Tilting his head, he returned his gaze to Robert. “But they have gone rather smoothly, I would say. And now I have you precisely where I intended you to be, from the very first moment that I planned my revenge.”
“Why?”
Miss Hemmingway’s eyes remained closed, her voice a little wispy but her hands tight on the arms of the chair. Robert saw the man’s gaze dart down to her face, feeling his chest tighten with a fresh anxiety that he might harm Miss Hemmingway without warning.
“Why have you targeted Lord Franks?” Miss Hemmingway asked, softly. “You have had my brother involved in ensuring that Lord Franks saw the emblem on his handkerchief, and then setting the fire at the ball.” Her eyes opened and she looked directly at Robert, her cheeks still pale but a small flicker of determination burning in her eyes. “You have had my brother keep Taylor in his study, so that he is safe from Lord Franks’ investigations. You have kept yourself hidden whilst ensuring that your plans go ahead without difficulty, although you were forced to step in to prevent the box from being discovered. And I presume that you have been the one to bring about Lord Caravel’s death.”
The man said nothing, his jaw working furiously for a moment, his gaze fixed on Robert.
“But you have never once said why you have been so fixed on Lord Franks,” Miss Hemmingway finished, pressing her lips tightly together as she let out a long breath. “What is it he has done to deserve such fury?”
Robert lifted his chin as the man looked back at him directly.
“Put the knife down,” he said, softly. “Miss Hemmingway will not move, I assure you, and I will remain precisely as I am at present.” He held the man’s gaze, willing him to do as he had asked. “I will listen to all that you have to say.”
The man’s lip curled but, much to Robert’s relief, he dropped the knife from Miss Hemmingway’s throat and grabbed her by the arm instead. Miss Hemmingway shuddered and closed her eyes but Robert felt a swell of relief crash over him.
“You do not remember my brother.”
Everything around Robert seemed to still as he took in the man’s face again and remembered how, when he had seen him first at the scene of the carriage accident, there had been a flicker of familiarity in his mind. A familiarity that he had not even thought about since then.
“My brother was Baronet Lyford.”
In that one moment, everything became clear. Robert saw the face of the man in front of him begin to merge with a memory from earlier in the summer. A summer where he had discovered that a baronet had been doing all that he could to draw close to a nephew of the King, only to give any information that he learned to those who were less than trustworthy. In fact, they had found out that Baronet Lyford had been given a good deal of money in order to do so, and that he had been more than willing to do whatever was required simply to gain more wealth.
“He is dead. The emblem you struggled to understand, the one that I threw into your path time and again, was the emblem of the Lyford family. My brother’s ring that now rests on my finger holds the very same.”
Nodding slowly, Robert let his gaze flick towards the man’s hand, seeing the ring that he held out to him and seeing the clear emblem there “You are the newly titled Baronet Lyford, then.”
“That does not matter!” the man shouted, his voice filling the room as he suddenly left Miss Hemmingway’s side and began to move towards Robert, his knife held out towards him. “I care nothing for his title, for his wealth or his houses. I care only that you were the one to kill him.”
Robert saw Miss Hemmingway put her hands to her mouth as Lyford stood in front of her, his blade pointed close to Robert’s heart. He felt no fear, however, only a sense of relief that now, everything was finally beginning to fall into place. It all made sense now. Lyford had not come to London to break The King’s League into pieces but rather to find revenge for the death of his brother. A brother who had worked against the Crown and thus had suffered the consequences of his treason.
“If you mean that I did as I have been instructed by the King,” he said, quietly, “then yes, I will admit to finding your brother, discovering the truth of his actions and thereafter bringing him to justice. I did not walk him to the gallows myself.”
Lyford shook his head, his eyes narrowed and angry, his lips in a cruel smile. “He was a fool,” he said, harshly, “but he did not deserve to die. He needed money, he did not have a true hatred for the King.”
Robert shook his head. “That may be the case, but he chose to do what was treasonous,” he said, quietly. “In passing on information about the King’s nephew to those who sought to harm the Crown, he chose treason rather than allegiance.”