She grasped the hand holding the knife and pushed with all her might. Higgans’s preoccupation with Rob allowed her to move it away a few inches. She screamed.
“Rob! Rob, be careful. He is here.”
Rob came charging up the stairs. Iantha struck at the pistol just as the report sounded. Rob stumbled and ducked back around the curve of the stair.
Higgans grabbed her arm and flung her behind him. “You will account for that later, bitch. Never doubt it.”
Rob reappeared with a pistol in his hand. Higgans, realizing his mistake, reached for Iantha to shield himself.
But she was already running.
She could not let him get his hands on her again! She turned and bolted up toward the ramparts. He pursued her, dodging around the spiral to avoid Rob’s shot. It ricocheted off the stone wall, as Rob followed it.
Iantha burst through the door onto the battlements with Higgans on her heels. Rob fired again, and the false baron ducked to the side of the door, throwing out an arm in an attempt to recapture her.
She refused to let that happen.
Higgans backed toward her, his eye on Rob, who had emerged from the stairwell. Desperation put wings to Iantha’s feet. She ran in the only direction open to her, around the ramparts and up the dizzying stairs to the tallest tower. From the corner of her eye, she saw the cliff falling away on both sides of the castle. Endless, empty space seemed to open around her. Iantha ignored it. Halfway up she turned to look back.
Rob and her pursuer faced one another, each in a fighting stance. Oh, God! Rob’s leg was bleeding. As she watched, he tossed the empty pistol away and drew the knife from his boot. “This is better, Sebergham—or whoever you are. A blade is much more personal, and my quarrel with you is very personal indeed.”
The false baron did not answer. He backed slowly toward Iantha’s perch, his gaze never leaving his adversary. Iantha knew that he was making for her. She could see that Rob and his knife stood between Higgans and his escape rope, and John and Feller with their contingent had appeared in the doorway. Clearly his only hope of getting away was with her as a hostage.
She moved a few steps higher. Higgans inched toward her, then suddenly whirled and darted toward the stairs. Rob gave chase, and Iantha fled up to the tower. Higgans halted midway up and spun again to assess the threat. Rob put his foot on the bottom stair. Very slowly he moved up another step. And another. Very carefully. Higgans turned back to Iantha and started confidently upward.
And suddenly Iantha remembered.
Rob had no head for heights.
And he was hurt. Dear heaven! He would fall. He certainly could not fight his enemy on the stairs, yet he moved inexorably toward him, determination in every line of his body. In panic she glanced around for a weapon. Her gaze fell on several small pieces of stone, broken by frost from the old fort. Iantha seized the nearest one and drew back her arm.
Not for nothing was she the sister of three brothers. The missile flew with satisfying accuracy. It whistled by Higgans’s ear, and he dropped into a deeper crouch, eyeing her warily. Rob advanced another step. So did Higgans. Iantha picked up another stone. This one clipped the stair on which her pursuer stood, and bounced down toward Rob. Higgans began to hurry, determined to reach her before Rob got to him.
Iantha grasped another chunk of stone. She could not miss this time. Control! She must call on all she possessed to steady her aim. And suddenly rage burst through both her fear and her control.
She was powerful!
Female!
Destroyer!
She launched the rock straight and true.
It struck Higgans directly in the center of the forehead. He dropped his blade and flailed his arms for balance. Iantha threw again. Her tormentor wavered, lost his footing and went over the side of the castle. His startled cry trailed away down the cliff. The sickening sound of impact drifted up to her.
She had but one thought as she ran lightly down the steps.
Take that, damn you!
They had again taken possession of the drawing room, and all seemed normal once more. Rob could only pray that the nightmare had truly ended. Yet an uncomfortable remembrance of the men Higgans had commanded nagged him. Were there more of them somewhere? Must he continue to look over his shoulder for the rest of their days?
At the moment, however, the only thing to which he could give his attention was the warmth of his wife’s body held tightly to his side where they sat on the sofa. Since their tearful reunion on the battlements the day before, all he could think about were the jumbled words of love and relief that had passed between them, the feeling of her in his arms, and the fact that he had not lost her.
He feared the image of Higgans pursuing her up those dangerous stairs while he fought his own lightheadedness would visit his dreams for years to come. Had he had no other choice, he would have dragged the man who had dared to hurt her so badly over the precipice with him.
Thank God for his very determined stone-throwing goddess!
These thoughts were interrupted by Gailsgill bringing the post. Rob shifted his bandaged leg to a more comfortable position and glanced at the letters.
“Hmm. This one is franked by Lord Alton. It must be a reply to the letter of condolence I wrote to Horace after his father was killed.” He opened it and began to read, only to stop with an exclamation.
“What now?” John muttered irritably. They had bound his arm to his side to prevent his moving it and tearing the wound open again, and he complained bitterly about being restricted.
Rob hastily scanned the letter. “Egad! Now here is an astonishing turn of events. This is from Horace Raunds—a confession of sorts. Listen…
“Duncan—
“I find that I shall have no peace until I write to beg you—and especially Lady Duncan—for your forgiveness. Yes, I was one of the fools who allowed Sebergham to seduce me into that horrible assault on an innocent young girl. How could I ever have done that? Perhaps we never really know ourselves.
“All I can tell you is that during that time I was angry at my father, angry at our royal family, angry at the world. Sebergham made a point of gathering others like me and entertaining us with wild revels, plying us with absinthe and providing other drugs that attack the intellect—drugs he had found in South America. I can hardly remember the night of the attack on Lady Duncan.
“But Sebergham would not allow me to forget. He began to blackmail me and some of the others. I had access to secrets important to the safety of our country. He was in Bonaparte’s pay, and he wanted them. I could never admit to my father what I had done, so I complied, and in so doing became not only a rapist, but a traitor. Needless to say, I soon came to despise myself, but I could see no way out of the coil.
“But now my father is dead, and I have become the lowest creature in nature. No, I did not sink to the point of patricide. Father caught me with certain documents and would have exposed us all, but Sebergham killed him in his bed. Perhaps that was a mercy to my proud father.
“Before I kill myself, I have undertaken to remove the remaining members of the ring that would bring England low. I cannot find Sebergham, but if I do while I still have breath, he will breathe no more. When you receive this, you will know who your enemy is and that I am dead by my own hand. The attached list contains the names of those threats to you that I have removed. It is all I can do for you now.
“HR”
Silence settled over the room. After several heartbeats Rob laid the letter aside and looked into the stunned faces around him. He pulled Iantha closer and spoke with a sigh.
“May God have mercy on his soul.”
Epilogue
Cumberland, England, Spring of 1808
“It is true, Mama.” Iantha clasped both her mother’s hands and smiled into her tearful face. “I am to have a child.”
“Oh, my dear.” Lady Rosley sniffed and freed a hand to search for her handkerchief. “I have prayed and prayed for this. You love childre
n so. I could not bear it that you might never have any of your own.”
“I know, Mama. A year ago neither of us would have ever thought it possible because of my…situation. But I am so happy now.” Iantha wiped at her own eyes.
“Lord Duncan is indeed a remarkable man. Have you come to love him?”
“Oh, yes. In truth, I believe I loved him from the beginning. I was so paralyzed with fear and anger, though, that I could not let myself recognize that. I was afraid of…well, you know. But you were correct. It is very pleasurable and comforting.”
Her mother gave Iantha a close look. “And he returns your love?”
“I believe that he does.” Iantha nodded. “He tells me he does, and acts as though he does. He would have given his own life to save mine.”
“Perhaps you will repay him with another little daughter to take the place of the one he lost.”
“No.” Iantha stared into the fire. “I cannot do that. No one will ever replace Laki for him—and that is as it should be. He still dreams about her, and I feel sure he always will.” Iantha smiled and turned to her mother again. “But he has such a great heart. I have no doubts that whatever child I bear him, he will love it with all of that heart. And I will love it with all of mine. Never again will I let anything cause me to lock my love away. I will give it freely—to you and Papa and my brothers and sisters. To my own children.”
Iantha turned and smiled as the door opened.
“And most of all to Rob.”
Author’s Note
The reader may be curious about the experience that Iantha had in Chapter Eleven in which she relived her dreadful assault. Psychotherapists would call what happened a regression or a rage reduction. It is sometimes useful in therapy for rape and other traumas to induce such a regression deliberately. But it can happen spontaneously as it did in Iantha’s case.
Such an experience is, in fact, very frightening. Sometimes the person remembers the regression. Some people do not. The person often fears that they have lost their mind, but they have only experienced one of nature’s most amazing opportunities to deal with the past. When they are properly comforted, they later find themselves amazingly free and able to get on with their lives. They may not recover completely as rapidly as Iantha did, because all episodes in a novel are symbolic of the story.
But they do recover.
Also, people suffering from the effects of trauma, or any other strong emotions, often do fear that if they let their feelings go, they will go crazy or harm themselves or others. It is important to protect them from that and to reassure them that they are normal.
Iantha was very fortunate to have Rob at her side, and that Rob was the man he was.
But, of course, we knew that.
ISBN: 978-1-4592-3696-7
A SCANDALOUS SITUATION
Copyright © 2004 by Patricia Frances Rowell
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