“No,” Victoria said simply.
William shook the gate again, but the lock held. “You are harboring a known Jacobite, guilty of the crime of being the right-hand man of the would-be usurper. By order of the King, I demand you open these gates, so justice may be had.” He clenched his jaw. “Have no fear, Lady Desiglow, as my wife you will suffer no consequences of shielding this man. I will protect you from such unpleasantness.”
Victoria smiled coldly. “I did not realize you could receive word from the King in a matter of hours. Are you in possession of a winged messenger who can travel to the capital and back?” She held out her hand. “You will not mind showing me the warrant that says I must open these gates, by order of the King.”
“I am attempting to help you, Lady Desiglow,” William retorted, visibly baffled by Victoria’s sudden strength.
Ye dinnae mess with me lass, Spencer. Ye should’ve known that.
She shrugged. “I do not require your help, nor do I want it. You are the only would-be usurper that I am aware of, and you will not have this house or this man at my side. If you are so desperate to have both, then you should prepare to kill me, as well, because you will not get to either without going through me first.”
“Lass, that is nae what we agreed,” Camdyn whispered, but she ignored him.
Around William, his kilted mercenaries snickered. Undoubtedly, these Scotsmen relished the opportunity to see an Englishman spurned before their very eyes. Camdyn guessed that William had not risked hiring Englishmen, in case they stole the honor of catching him for themselves.
“How far will you go to claim a title that does not belong to you?” Victoria pressed defiantly. “You are no better than a grave robber, trying to steal the gold from a soldier’s tooth. What morals can you possess, when you would happily take the estate, the wife, and the money of a gentleman who died in the same fight that you fled from?”
The mercenaries snorted, gaining a sharp look from William.
“I have waited too long for this moment to be thwarted, Lady Desiglow.” William’s expression hardened, his eyes glinting. “Do you think I wanted to battle with savages on a distant field, in a land where no sane man would want to live? Do you think I would have done so, if I had nothing valuable to gain? You underestimate my perseverance, My Lady.”
She canted her head. “Whatever do you mean? I do not imagine that the fourth son of a Baron had many other opportunities, aside from that which the military could offer.”
“I never thought that you would be one to look down on me, My Lady. You never did before.” William sighed sadly. “Part of me had hoped that you would recognize me, but you did not. I suppose I was always beneath you, yet you made efforts to speak with me, and include me, when everyone else turned up their nose.”
He knows her…
Camdyn tightened his grip on his sword hilt, fully prepared to lunge forward and strike William through the bars of the gate if he came too close.
Victoria gasped suddenly. “No… It cannot be you. If it is, then you are not William Spencer.”
“I afforded myself some liberties after I joined the infantry and went to the Continent. You would remember me as Lionel Drake.” He scratched the side of his nose. “But I decided that man should die in Spain, where I took the name of another. I vowed to myself, then, that I would become a different man—a man of means and worth and honor of the highest order. Do you remember what your father said to me when he rejected my offer of marriage to you?”
Victoria edged nearer to Camdyn, prompting him to put his hand on the small of her back, out of sight of William’s prying eyes. “I was not in the room, Mr. Drake. How could I remember?”
“My name is not Lionel or Drake. It is William Spencer,” the wretch hissed. “And this is what your father said to me. He said, ‘I admire your ambition, but a man such as you could never be worthy of my daughter. You have nothing to offer, and I doubt you ever shall.’ Those words have been seared in my head ever since. They are the reason I fought in Spain, and why I came to this godforsaken land to fight with the Jacobites.”
He’s been plannin’ this. There’s more to it, I ken there is…
Camdyn wanted to grab Victoria and take her away from there as quickly as possible, but he knew she would hate him for it. Clearly, she did not intend to move until she had heard everything.
“I do not understand,” she said quietly.
William grinned, his expression bordering on maniacal. “I have followed the path of your life for over a decade, My Lady. I wept when I heard you were married, but I did not lose hope.” He transferred his pistol to his other hand. “When I was sent to meet with John Cope, it was as though fate had finally granted me my wish. For who should I encounter there, bemoaning the burden of marriage, and complaining about the wife he had been granted?”
“Who?” Victoria replied, an audible tremble in her voice.
“Edward Seifried, the Earl of Desiglow, possessor of the only thing I have ever wanted.” William’s face twisted into a mask of anger. “He told me everything about you, in crude detail, so the other men could laugh and offer their commiserations. I would have throttled him to death right there, if it would not have seen me hanged.”
Camdyn rubbed circles at the base of Victoria’s spine, feeling her fear bristle through to his palm. “What did ye do?” he asked, so she would not have to.
“I saw another opportunity.” William chuckled darkly, though his focus never left Victoria. “When the battle broke out at Prestonpans, it was easy to dispose of your husband. For who would think to question another dead man among such a massacre? And when the King offered me a title, it was so very simple to ask for his, claiming we were such dear comrades that he would have wanted me to have it. Of course, I knew he had no heirs and no family to inherit. Why, the King seemed almost grateful to have someone to give the title to.”
“You are a wretched monster!” Victoria tried to lunge for the gates, but Camdyn held her back.
William laughed. “I am no monster, My Lady. I told you, I am merely perseverant, and I will not stop until I have what I have come all this way, and given so much, for.”
“You will never have me, and you will never have this house, or the man that I love!” Victoria roared, letting slip the secret. Indeed, Camdyn was not even sure she had heard what she had said, but William certainly did.
He shot a glower of menace at Camdyn. “If I cannot have you, Victoria, then nobody can.” He raised his pistol to the level of Camdyn’s forehead. “I killed your husband. I have no qualms about killing your lover, too.”
Without hesitation, he squeezed the trigger.
Chapter 27
A shot rang out, and Victoria heard Genevieve scream. As for herself, the piercing boom made her cower, covering her ears with her hands and squeezing her eyes shut, as if that could somehow prevent the shot from finding its target.
All of a sudden, she felt arms around her. Her eyes flew open to find Camdyn holding her to his chest, using himself as a human shield to protect her.
“Camdyn…” she whispered, terrified that she might find a blooming star of scarlet upon his chest, where the pistol shot had plowed through his sweet flesh.
“I will keep ye safe,” he murmured back, though he did not sound as though he were in pain.
Over Camdyn’s hunched shoulder, Victoria saw a sight that chilled her far more than the bang of the pistol. One of William’s mercenaries was handing him a freshly loaded pistol, while the devil slid an arm through the bars of the gate and drew back the bolt. On the floor, the iron lock that prevented the bolt from being pulled had dropped to the flagstones, a hole blown through it.
“It was a distraction!” Victoria pounded on Camdyn’s chest. “It was a distraction, Camdyn!”
Camdyn whirled around, raising his broadsword. His shoulders squared and he stood to his full height—a true vision of a warrior. Meanwhile, behind Victoria, she heard the staff take a few tentative ste
ps forward, brandishing their makeshift weapons.
I am sorry, my dear friends. I did not mean for this to happen.
She realized they had probably not anticipated an actual fight taking place. They had run out in support of her as a means of intimidation, but now the enemy had broken down the fortifications, and they would soon be well within the siege walls.
“Remove yourself from my property!” Victoria shouted, though the tremor in her voice belied her true terror.
If all he said is true, then he is not one to bluff about his intentions. He will kill us all if he has to.
Her mind reeled from the incendiary canisters of revelation that he had already bombarded her with, but she knew there was no time to dwell on it now. Not if she wanted herself, her beloved, her confidante, and her dear staff to survive this.
William pushed open the gate to the screech of rusting metal. “Must I remind you that this is not your property any longer, unless you consent to marry me? I thought we had already covered that particular matter.” He raised his pistol at Camdyn. “It appears you still need some convincing and, as you have already seen, I am an excellent marksman.”
“Dinnae take a step closer,” Camdyn warned. “Ye might have one of them fancy pistols, but naught beats cold, hard steel.”
William laughed. “Would you like to test that theory?”
“If ye were any sort of a man, ye’d fight proper, with a sword in yer own hand an’ all.” Camdyn remained steadfast, his blade poised at a diagonal across his body. But Victoria sensed that it would do nothing to stop a pistol shot, if William pulled the trigger again.
William’s eyes narrowed. “I no longer fight against savages, where I can help it. There is little need, when we English are already the victors. Why, perhaps we shall have ourselves a reenactment of Culloden Moor this night. You can be the Jacobite army.”
“I wouldnae have it any other way.” In a blur, Camdyn lunged forward and brought his sword down on William’s outstretched arm. At the last second, William drew his hand back and tucked it quickly to his chest, avoiding the sharp edge by a hair’s breadth.
Be careful, my love. Please, be careful!
Victoria shuffled backward, out of the way of the two fighters and into the front line of staff that had formed a horseshoe around her. Silently, and without taking her focus away from William Spencer, Genevieve handed her a long, splintered piece of wood that appeared to have been ripped directly off a crate.
“What are you standing there for?” William barked at his mercenaries, as he twisted out of the way of another powerful broadsword swing. “I have not offered payment for you to be idle. Seize everyone!”
The mercenaries exchanged dubious looks, only to begin their march through the gates a moment later. After all, they likely would not see a single coin of their fee if they did not at least attempt to aid the one who had hired them.
Camdyn, clearly noticing the approach of more men, feinted around William and hurled himself at the gates. He managed to slam one back into place and darted to close the other. Distracted by defensive maneuvers, he did not see William cock back the hammer of his pistol and level it at the back of his head.
“You would shoot a man in the back? You coward!” Victoria howled. She rushed forward with her stick and smacked it down so hard across William's right shoulder that it snapped into two pieces.
William unleashed a scream of agony as he whipped around to face Victoria, his eyes burning with rage. His left hand clutched his injured shoulder, while the hand wielding the pistol flopped limply, his finger still slotted into the trigger guard.
“I admire… your passion, Lady… Desiglow,” he panted, while his lips turned up in a cruel grimace. “I shall… enjoy whipping… that fire out… of you, until you are… obedient!”
Genevieve leapt in front Victoria, swiping her cleaver through the air like a woman possessed. “You’ll not be whipping no one, but I’ll make sure you get a hidin’ before you run out of here with your tail betwixt your legs!”
William seemed momentarily taken aback by Genevieve’s venom. “You do not frighten me, you aged harpy. I have slain the likes of you in village after village, north of here, and I did not hesitate once.”
Behind the wretch, Victoria’s heart lurched as she witnessed Camdyn straining to keep the gates closed, single-handedly, against the swell of William’s mercenaries. His body jolted backward every few seconds to avoid the sharp jab of a sword point, but there was no way he would be able to avoid the blades of twenty men forever. Either the gates would relent, or he would have to.
“I do not think you should be gloating, Mr. Spencer, when you are on the wrong side of the gates.” Victoria beckoned to a footman, to hand her the iron poker that he held in his hand. He gave it up immediately, and put up his fists like a brawler. “Do you think you can purchase loyalty?”
William glanced back over his shoulder, wincing at the movement. “Your lover will be skewered long before they abandon me, Lady Desiglow. Money may not purchase loyalty, but it will buy me enough time to take what I want, and to kill what I do not.”
“Help him!” Victoria urged the men among her staff.
Unlike the mercenaries, they did not hesitate. Holding their weapons high, they charged toward the gates to aid Camdyn in keeping them closed. When the mercenaries tried to strike with their swords, the staff lashed back with sticks and pokers and knives from the kitchen. It was the most bizarre clash of foes that Victoria had ever seen, but she did not know if it would be enough to keep the mercenaries at bay.
They are amateur combatants against hired professionals. Heaven help me if any of them are injured in defense of me.
However, the staff assault on the gates had somehow curved around William, leaving Victoria and Genevieve to face him alone. Now, they were the ones on the wrong side of the advantage.
Still clutching his shoulder, William aimed his pistol at Genevieve. “If you do not want your coarse-mouthed keeper to perish, you will come with me into the house, this instant. I will bar the doors and send my men for a priest. We can be wed before the night is over, and all of this unpleasantness can be cast aside. No one needs to be hurt if you do as you are bid.”
“I will not,” Victoria hissed back. “It seems you are the one who has not been listening. I would rather die than marry you.”
Her eyes sought out Camdyn in the fray by the gates, but the staff were so clustered together that she could not spot him. If he did not seek her in return, William might make good on his threat before Camdyn could do anything to stop it.
No, I must not lose faith. He will surely batter down the door if William manages to steal me away and lock me inside my own home.
William smirked. “Have it your way.” He squeezed the trigger without a second warning, and a shot exploded into the air.
For an agonizing moment, Victoria was not entirely sure what had happened… until she turned to her dear friend and secondary mother.
“Oh…” Genevieve gasped, dropping her cleaver as her hand flew to her chest. Peeking out from the gap between the two sides of her cloak, Victoria saw a spreading scarlet. The flowing source began in the very center of her chest, the pistol having shot directly through her stomacher.
“Genevieve!” Victoria roared, putting her arms out to grasp her friend as the older woman’s knees gave way. She caught her before she could collapse to the ground, though Genevieve was far heavier than Victoria had anticipated.
I cannot hold her… I cannot hold her, nor can I carry her, but I must get her inside! My medicines are in the study. No! My medicines are in the carriage.
Victoria’s desperate eyes flitted toward the partially concealed carriage, which still lay shrouded beneath the shadow of the apple trees. Even with a shorter distance, she knew she would not be able to heave Genevieve over there, nor did she think William would allow her to search for her healing tools without demanding her hand in marriage, in return.
“I must lay
you down, Genevieve,” Victoria urged, sinking under the weight of the older woman. “There will be pain, but you must persevere, my dearest, dearest friend. I cannot endure without you. We have so much left to do, and to see, and to say. Please, stay with me.”
Genevieve blinked up at her. “Am I going to die?”
“No, you are not. I will not allow it,” Victoria replied, firing a poisonous look at William. “If you fire that pistol again, make sure you fire it at me. I am going to fetch the medicines that will heal my friend, and if you attempt to prevent me, I shall tear out your eyes with my fingernails!”
William casually took a pouch from his pocket and began to reload the pistol with a small, grayish ball and a measure of black powder. “I shall not prevent you, for I know that your remedies and accoutrements are within the house. If you want to heal her, you shall have to go inside.” He smiled. “I would be only too happy to carry this wearisome spinster into the drawing room, but I will be barring the doors.”
Highlander's Fallen Angel : A Steamy Scottish Historical Romance Novel Page 23