Perhaps a few buildings will suffer.”
“A few buildings?”
“Don’t begin developing a conscience now.”
Merrick stared at him.
Then he asked:
“Was my father right?
Did you plan to leave Gideon dead and Rosalie a widow?”
Vane turned.
“Your father proposed that arrangement, not I.”
My breath stopped.
My father had not merely agreed to another man’s scheme.
He had proposed the marriage as part of the plan to acquire Gideon’s land.
Vane continued.
“Rook has no close relatives.
A widow would have a claim to his estate, and your father expected to control his daughter long enough to secure the spring rights.”
Merrick shook his head.
“He said nobody would die.”
“Silas has always been skilled at telling people what they want to hear.”
Vane moved toward the gate.
“Now help me finish this.”
He reached into his coat.
I saw a small package wrapped in oilcloth.
Blasting powder.
He placed it beside the timber support holding the gate mechanism.
The implications struck me immediately.
He intended to destroy the chamber.
The resulting collapse could release water into the abandoned galleries and erase whatever evidence remained.
Gideon had seen the package too.
He looked at me.
I shook my head slightly.
If we emerged now, Vane might shoot us.
If we waited, he would destroy the chamber.
Then Merrick did something unexpected.
He stepped between Vane and the blasting powder.
“No.”
Vane stared at him.
“What?”
“I said no.”
“Move aside.”
“Rosalie is somewhere inside these tunnels.”
Vane drew his pistol again.
“Then she made an unfortunate choice.”
Merrick did not move.
Vane raised the weapon.
I stepped out from behind the timber.
“Put it down!”
Every face turned toward me.
Gideon followed a moment later.
Vane’s expression became almost triumphant.
“There you are.”
He pointed the pistol toward Gideon.
“Move away from the wheel.”
Gideon remained still.
I translated.
His eyes moved from the pistol to Merrick.
Something unreadable crossed his face.
Then he wrote a quick sentence and held it toward me.
Ask your brother about the baby.
I stared at him.
“What baby?”
Gideon pointed toward the notebook.
The child at Saint Agnes.
