Her fingers clenched around the mallet as she realized Rushton had a pistol in his hand. It was pointed at her. "Reverend Rushton. I do not understand. Have you gone mad? What is this all about?"
"It is about a great many things, Lady St. Justin. The past, the present, and the future." Rushton's eyes burned with a terrible fire. He looked at her as though he were measuring her for a chamber in hell. "That is, my past, your present, and my future. For you, my dear, have no future."
"Sir, put down that pistol. You are mad."
"Some would say so, I suppose. But they do not comprehend."
"Comprehend what?" Harriet forced herself to keep her voice calm. In some vague way she sensed that her only hope lay in encouraging Rushton to talk to her. She did not know what she would do with the time she gained, but perhaps a miracle would occur.
"They do not comprehend all the trouble I went to in order to ensure that my beautiful Deirdre married St. Justin," Rushton said, his deep voice laced with rage. "I had to sacrifice Hardcastle's firstborn son."
"Good God. You killed Gideon's brother?"
"It was so easy. He used to ride along the cliffs every morning. It was a simple matter to startle the horse with a pistol shot one winter's day." Rushton's eyes were suddenly reflective, as if he were seeing something else altogether. "The horse shied, but did not throw its rider. I rushed toward it. Its master saw what I intended. He jumped down from the horse, but it was too late. I was too close."
Harriet felt ill. "You pushed Randal off the cliffs, did you not? You murdered him."
Rushton nodded. "As I said, a simple matter. Hardcastle's firstborn son was already engaged to someone else, you see. He had never shown any interest in my beautiful Deirdre. But the earl's second son had. Oh, yes. St. Justin could not resist her from the moment he saw her at her first ball. I knew he wanted her. How could he not? She was so lovely."
"But she did not love him, did she?"
Rushton's face tightened into a mask of fury. "The little fool said she could not stand the sight of him. I had to force her to accept St. Justin's offer. She claimed she was in love with someone else. Someone she called her handsome angel."
"Bryce Morland."
"I did not know who he was and I did not care." Rushton's face twisted in disdain. "All I knew was that the man was a nobody. And married. To a merchant's daughter, of all things. Obviously he had no money and no title of his own."
"And that was what you wanted? For Deirdre to marry a man of wealth and background?"
Rushton looked astonished. "Of course. She was my only asset, you see. The only thing I could use to buy back my proper place in the world. I should have been a man of wealth and power, you see. But my wastrel father lost everything at cards when I was a boy. I never forgave him for whistling my fortune down the wind."
"So you sought another method of acquiring the wealth and status your father lost at the tables?"
Rushton's gaze darkened. "When Deirdre started to blossom into a beautiful young woman I knew I could use her to lure the son of some great family. Once I was related to people of the proper sort through marriage, I would have access to the power and privilege money buys. After all, I would be the father-in-law. Through Deirdre I would be able to get what I wanted."
"You tried to use your daughter."
"She had a duty to obey me," Rushton said fiercely. "She was far too beautiful to waste herself on a man who could give her family nothing. But I soon made her see reason. I told her she could have anyone she wanted after she was married to St. Justin. She was not stupid. She understood. She said she would marry the devil himself, in order to have her angel in her arms."
"Oh, God," Harriet whispered.
"But then it all went wrong." Rushton's voice rose to a shout of anguished fury. "The little fool gave herself to her lover before she was married off to St. Justin. She got herself with child. Her lover's bastard. She realized she had to seduce St. Justin quickly so that she could convince him the babe was his."
"But her plan did not work, did it? St. Justin knew something was amiss."
"Deirdre was a fool. A bloody little fool. She ruined everything. She came to me to tell me what had happened. She said she was going to find a way to get rid of the babe. But I knew it was too late to marry her off to St. Justin then. She had told him too much. I could not believe she had been so stupid. We quarreled."
Harriet took a deep breath as intuition struck her. "In the study?"
"Yes."
"And you killed her, did you not? You shot her and then tried to make it look as if she had taken her own life. That is why there was no note. She did not commit suicide. She was murdered. By her own father."
"It was an accident." Rushton's eyes bulged wildly. "I did not mean to kill her. She kept screaming that she was going to run off with her lover. I grabbed the pistol from the wall. I only meant to threaten her with it. But it… Something went wrong. She should have obeyed her father."
"You belong in Bedlam."
"Oh, no, Lady St. Justin. I am not mad. Indeed, I am very sane." Rushton smiled. "And very clever. Who do you think organized the ring of thieves that was using this cavern?"
"You?"
Rushton nodded. "I knew all about these caves. I had to have money, you see. Deirdre was dead and could no longer secure my future by marrying into wealth as I had planned for so long."
"So you eventually found another source of income?"
"When I put my mind to the problem I realized there was treasure aplenty in the drawing rooms of London. And it was so easy to take. At first I merely helped myself to the odd trifle and sold it quickly before it was even missed. But then I saw the opportunity of much larger profits. It would take time and I needed a place to store the goods. I remembered these caves."
"But St. Justin broke up your ring of thieves."
"Because of you," Rushton said coldly. "You ruined my new plans just as Deirdre ruined my old ones. You married the man who should have married my Deirdre. You saved him from the punishment he was made to suffer by Society's verdict. You ruined it all."
Rushton raised the pistol.
Harriet's mouth went dry. She took a step back, although there was no place to run. If his first shot missed, she just might be able to make it to the cavern entrance before he could reload or catch her, but she knew there was little likelihood of escape.
"Killing me will accomplish nothing," Harriet whispered. She took another step back. She had heard that pistols were quite unpredictable except at very close range. The farther away she was from Rushton when he pulled the trigger, the greater the odds that the first shot would miss.
"On the contrary," Rushton murmured. "Killing you will accomplish a great deal. I shall be avenged, for one thing. And as your husband will take the blame for your murder, my sweet Deirdre will also be avenged."
"You killed your daughter, not St. Justin."
"Because of him. It was his fault," Rushton snarled.
"People will never believe my husband killed me," Harriet said. "St. Justin would never hurt me, and everyone knows it."
"No, madam, they do not know it. It is true he is now in favor in Society's eyes. But when you are found dead in these caves, people will ask if the Beast of Blackthorne Hall has reverted to his old ways. They were quick enough to turn on him six years ago. This time will be no different."
"That is not true."
Rushton shrugged and raised the pistol higher. "They will say he probably thought himself a cuckold. What woman would not turn to a lover if she were obliged to face the scarred face of the Beast of Blackthorne Hall every night?"
"He is not a beast. He was never a beast. Do not call him that." Harriet threw the mallet at Rushton in blind anger.