Moonstruck Madness

by Laurie McBain

  “I shall be the picture of wretchedness. Steeped to the lips in misery, heart-stricken by grief.”

  “All right, Percy, just don’t overplay your part. It’s common knowledge that you and Lucien don’t get along. It would be a bit odd at this late date to be in tears.”

  “Not to worry. I know how to play the role well. It will be my finest performance,” Percy boasted confidently.

  Two mornings later they were still paying guests at the Faire Maiden, although most of the staff, including Will and John, would have preferred to have seen the back of them rather than continue to accept their money and the gripes and unreasonable demands that accompanied it.

  “Playing cards all day long, they are. What are they doin’ here anyway?” John grumbled as he came back with another bottle of rum from the cellars. “Here, you take it in to them. I’m not taking any more of their orders.”

  Will took the bottle with a grimace and, taking a cloth, wiped it clean of dust. “Startin’ on the bottle a bit early, aren’t they?” Will commented dryly.

  “Jumpy as cats every time someone enters the room. Act like they’re sitting on thorns, the two of them, especially pretty-boy in there. Always asking for a bowl of water to wash his hands as if they was dirty, or something. Gives me the creeps.”

  “Well, this’ll help cushion them.” Will grinned as he made his way down the hall. He came abreast of the door and spotting a bit of dust he’d missed, paused to wipe it off. The door to the room hadn’t been closed completely, and through the crack Will could hear voices, not paying much attention until a name he knew well was mentioned.

  “So, will you now tell me how scar-faced cousin Lucien is to meet his untimely death?” Kate demanded peevishly. “I am hardly going to gossip about it to anyone.”

  “The soon-to-be late Duke of Camareigh will meet with foul play on his regular early morning ride down a very shady path, overrun with an abundance of perfect hiding places for an ambush by brutal highwaymen,” Percy explained cheerfully, a smug look of satisfaction on his face.

  “As you know, this area has been rife with highwaymen, especially one known as Bonnie Charlie, and it would seem as though he is about to claim another victim this morning, my dear,” Percy smirked. “It will be the last early morning ride of the duke and duchess.”

  Kate clapped her hands, her eyes full of admiration for Percy’s well-thought-out plan. “Superb, Percy. Who would suspect the tragedy as actually being a well-planned murder?”

  “Yes, we will never be suspect, and our three friends will be shipping out soon for a lengthy voyage to the colonies, so I think we need not worry about them. And the seas can be dangerous.””

  “When is it going to happen, Percy?” she asked, her eyes glowing with excitement.

  “Why, I should imagine quite shortly.” He took his pocket watch out and checked the time. “Yes, very soon, my dear, we shall be the sole heirs to the Camareigh estates.”

  A smile of anticipation curved Kate’s lips, softening them, and her cheeks were flushed delicately with excitement. She looked like an angel in her silver gown, her hair a silvery-gold and her eyes icy blue, and as the sun shone through the stained-glass window her figure was patterned with rich color that bathed her in an aura of warmth that was an illusion.

  Will stood as though turned to stone, his breathing heavy as he stared at the rough surface of the door unseeingly as the overheard conversation sunk in. Schooling his face into an amicable grin he knocked firmly on the door and entered.

  Percy glanced up, his conversation halted abruptly as the big landlord came blundering in, a bottle of rum on a tray. “Well?” Percy demanded insolently. “I thought I said we did not wish to be disturbed?”

  “Your rum, my lord,” Will said ingratiatingly. “Our very best for you and the lady.”

  “Well, put it down and be off then,” Percy ordered him arrogantly, surprised by the sudden glint in the landlord’s eyes as he bowed obsequiously and left the room.

  As soon as the door closed firmly on the two guests, Will dropped his slowness and ran through the hall as fast as he could to find John. John was sitting in the kitchen joking with one of the serving wenches and about to make a suggestion to the buxom maid when Will charged into the room breathlessly. One glance at his brother’s flushed face and angry eyes told John something was amiss, and with a regretful look at the eager maid he followed Will outside and into the yard.

  “What’s wrong, Will? Looks like your blood’s boiling,” John asked with concern.

  “Them two inside is plannin’ to do away with the duke and Charlie,” he spluttered wrathfully. “I heard ’em talkin’ about it myself.”

  “What the hell?” John roared. “What’re we standing here for? Let’s go in and get them,” he declared.

  “That won’t do any good. They hired some cutthroats to do it. Remember them three that showed up a couple of days ago?” he asked meaningfully.

  “Here, in our inn?” John bellowed. “We been puttin’ up murderers?”

  Will grasped John’s rigid arm firmly. “They plan to kill the duke and little Charlie as they’re out riding this morning,” he told him, his face turning purple as he added with fury, “and the three of them are going to masquerade as Bonnie Charlie and his men, puttin’ the blame on us for the murder.”

  John opened his mouth, speechless in disbelief, and finally managed to find his tongue. “What are we going to do? We gotta stop them. Want to go in there and choke the truth out of them?” he asked hopefully, already feeling the fancy gent’s neck between his hands.

  “Assault a lord and lady, especially with a room full of soldiers next door?” Will shook his head regretfully. “We don’t need to, we know close enough where the duke and Charlie ride, so we’ll just have to find them first and protect them from those bogus highwaymen.”

  “Right. I’ll get the horses, you get our pistols. If there’s killing to be done, then by God, it’ll be done by us, and not those three dogs.”

  ***

  Lucien turned from his contemplation of a vase full of roses on the oak table as he heard footsteps descending the stairs. He walked forward and held out his hand for Sabrina to take as she neared the bottom step. His glance took in the sapphire-blue riding habit, the full skirt, the jacket and waistcoat cut close along the lines of a man’s and her lace-edged stock pinned with a gold brooch.

  Sabrina reached up to straighten the three-cornered beaver hat and inquired brightly, “Shall we go?” She slid her gloved fingers into his hand and smiled lovingly up at him.

  “Have I told you how beautiful you are?” he asked, guiding her outside to their horses.

  “Not often enough to suit my desires,” she replied, then added cheekily, “but you are improving, my love.”

  Lucien’s eyes glinted as he mounted his horse, having already helped Sabrina to sit her horse, and leaning over, pinched her cheek playfully. “Come, and I’ll tell you more secrets that will turn your little ears red with embarrassment,” Lucien promised as they rode off down the narrowly twisting, hedged drive.

  Sabrina sent her white-stockinged mare ahead, calling over her shoulder a dare, but Lucien’s mount easily caught her up, and slowing her down, kept them at a steady pace.

  “We’re out for a leisurely ride, and I shouldn’t have to remind you to take care. I don’t want to have to curtail your pleasures,” Lucien warned.

  Sabrina raised her chin, a sparkle in her eyes as she said, “You’re no fun, Lucien, now that you are to become the proud papa.”

  Lucien frowned momentarily, not sure he liked the role he was being cast in, but then one look at her laughing violet eyes and tip-tilted nose, her smiling lips parted to reveal small white teeth, and he knew he’d do it all again if he had to, just to receive that loving smile from her.

  Coming to a hollow, the boughs forming a latticework
ceiling above their heads, they dismounted and leading their horses walked beneath it in companionable silence. Sabrina stared up at Lucien’s profile, loving every arrogant line. “I love y—” Sabrina began to say when she suddenly screamed as three masked men charged down on them from the undercover of the trees.

  She heard Lucien curse and reach for his rapier, pulling her behind him to shield her as the highwaymen closed in upon them. The horses bolted, running in panic as the highwaymen yelled wildly. Lucien backed towards the safety of the trees, but there were three of them, heavily armed with pistols. They hadn’t a chance, and yet he got the feeling the highwaymen were playing with them, circling and moving in close only to withdraw before he could reach them with his sword. Why didn’t they just shoot them?

  Suddenly Lucien became conscious of the rigid figure behind him, and risking a look over his shoulder he was shocked by the face of frozen fear he saw. He followed her eyes to one of the riders and stared in disbelief at the rider’s black frock coat and beneath at the tartan sash. An eagle’s feather waved in his cocked hat as he swooped close, his face covered by a black mask.

  They came to a halt before Lucien and the partially hidden figure of Sabrina. “Know who I am?” the one dressed as Bonnie Charlie demanded loudly. “I’m Bonnie Charlie, and I want your money and your jewels. Hand them over.”

  Lucien reached in his pocket and withdrew a couple of coins. “We’re out riding, we haven’t much money or jewels on us,” he told them as he watched them with increasing concern. There was something not right about this whole affair.

  These men were not accustomed to riding, they could barely control their mounts and hold their pistols at the same time. And pretending to be Bonnie Charlie and holding up two riders out for a morning stroll wasn’t the usual tactics for highwaymen. It was too risky and certain not to yield much return.

  “Well, then I guess we’ll just have to kill you and the lady for our trouble, eh mates?” the mock Bonnie Charlie laughed, and taking aim pulled the trigger. Lucien anticipated him and jerked Sabrina to the ground as the shot struck the back of the tree where his head had just been.

  Before the others could get off a shot and the spokesman could pull his other pistol from his belt, Lucien had jumped up and grabbed the reins, jerking the horse’s head and causing him to rear up and unseat his rider. The man fell with a yelp to the ground and Lucien pounced on top of him. They rolled over, shielding Lucien from the other men’s weapons as they wrestled in the dirt. If he could only get the other pistol, then maybe these other swine would back off. But as they rolled over he saw the other two dismount. One roughly grabbed Sabrina where she knelt in a numbed daze by the tree, while the other kicked at his body as he fought with their friend. Lucien felt the fellow’s booted toe strike his ribs and winced as he landed a blow on his opponent’s face.

  He heard Sabrina’s cry as the man holding her twisted her arm behind her back and struck her across the face several times. “Give up, or I’ll run the little lady through,” the man yelled down at the writhing bodies.

  Lucien broke free and raised himself to see a knife held to Sabrina’s throat, blood trickling from her mouth as she stared at him as though seeing a ghost. Lucien doubled over as the false Bonnie Charlie managed to get to his feet and knee him in the groin.

  They were dragging him to his feet when they heard the sound of horses’ hooves, and glancing up the highwaymen paled as they saw the two Taylor brothers come riding down on them. Will leaped from the saddle and toppled over one of the highwaymen, his pistol going off wildly into the boughs overhead.

  John ran his horse between Lucien and the masquerading Bonnie Charlie, knocking the man off his feet, and then jumped down on top of him. Lucien got to his feet and lunged at the man holding Sabrina. He saw the naked fury in Lucien’s eyes and pushed her forward into his arms and fled after his horse in panic.

  Lucien caught Sabrina as she fell across his path, hugging her close to him as he watched Will, having quickly dealt with his man, now giving chase to the fleeing would-be murderer. He caught him easily and knocked him cold with one powerful swing of his fist.

  Lucien looked down at the still form he held so closely to him. Her hat blocked his view of her face, and almost reluctantly he cupped his hand beneath her chin and raised her face to his.

  Sabrina stared up into Lucien’s sherry eyes, the loving look of minutes before gone, and replaced by the old wariness and defiance. Her brow was knitted in confusion and one hand was pressed to her temple shakily as she looked around at the fallen bodies, and Will and John and the duke staring down at her anxiously.

  Sabrina stiffened and struggled free of Lucien’s arms. Her mind was a swirl of thought and images that made her tremble with doubts. As the past came flooding back to her, Sabrina faced Lucien, outraged fury darkening her eyes as his deceitful actions of the past weeks, tricking her into believing she had loved and trusted him, made her quiver with mortification.

  Lucien fingered his scar, and had she not believed it impossible, Sabrina would’ve sworn he was nervous. “So, you’ve remembered,” he stated flatly, then laughed without amusement. “I suppose it was that damned Bonnie Charlie who did it?”

  “You didn’t really think you’d get away with your lies and trickery? How opportune for you that I should lose my memory, and become the malleable little bride you so needed to claim your inheritance,” she said scathingly.

  Sabrina turned from him as though she couldn’t bear the sight of his face. Blood trickled from the corner of her mouth and her cheeks still bore the imprint of her attacker’s hand. She looked to Will and John, who’d stood silently watching the confrontation.

  “Will,” Sabrina whispered brokenly, swallowing back her tears. “A horse, please.”

  John hurriedly walked over and caught up the reins of her horse where it was grazing under the trees and led it back to her, his eyes glancing uncertainly, first at the duke and then at Sabrina.

  Sabrina took a step forward only to be halted by Lucien’s hard fingers wrapping around her arm. “We’ve things to discuss, Sabrina. Remember that you are my wife, and nothing you can do can change that. You are also with child, so don’t do anything foolish just because you’ve remembered some old hates,” Lucien cautioned her, his sherry eyes glinting. “I’ll expect to find you at Verrick House when I’ve dealt with these imposters.”

  Sabrina glared up at him as she jerked her arm free and ran to her horse. John gave her a leg up, and without a glance at Lucien she turned her mount and rode back down the path they’d just traveled up so happily.

  Lucien stared at her retreating back, so stiff with pride that it would take more than his words to heal the breach. His attention was drawn from her disappearing figure by a long, painful moan. He turned and looked at the man masquerading as Bonnie Charlie, and picking up his rapier walked over to stand in front of the sprawled figure. He pointed it at the groaning man, flexing it against the man’s chest lightly but firmly.

  John glanced at Will who coughed and mumbled, “Soldiers will hang ’em soon enough.”

  Lucien turned his head, his eyes bright, the scar ragged against the whiteness of his face. Will and John shifted uncomfortably under that deadly gaze.

  “How is it you two gentlemen came to the rescue just at the right moment?” he asked quietly.

  “Not soon enough from the looks of it when we arrived,” Will answered in self-disgust. “We overheard the plan at the inn this morning, but by then they’d…” He paused, spitting on the ground as he gazed at the three just coming around. “…already gone, and you and Charlie were out riding.”

  “We figured where the best place to ambush someone around Verrick House would be, and we hot-footed it here, only to find you already involved in a fight with them,” John explained.

  Lucien looked at the three men pitilessly. “Did I thank you for saving Sabrina’s and my li
ves?” He looked back at Will and John. “If there is ever anything I can do for you, just ask.”

  His attention was drawn back to the three men as they tried to rise. “First, I think you’d better explain about overhearing plans to ambush us. You overheard these three?” he questioned Will, while keeping a wary eye on the man at his feet. John had roughly pulled the other two close together, and now stood holding each by the back of their necks.

  “No, it was the fancy gent at our inn that we overheard. He and the lady was talking about it this morning and when I heard her say something about the death of their scar-faced cousin, and then call him the Duke of Camareigh, well I knew it could be none other than you, yer grace.”

  Lucien listened intently, showing no surprise as he recognized the description of Percy and Kate. He looked down at the masked man and, reaching out, ripped the mask from his face. The man cowered on his knees before Lucien, turning pale as he stared into the scarred face.

  “Is what he says the truth? Answer me if you value your life,” he demanded ruthlessly.

  “Yes,” the man spat back, cringing before the murderous look that entered the sherry eyes.

  “And?” Lucien said softly, inviting the man to continue.

  “We was to kill ye and yer bride, and blame it on the highwayman,” he confessed sullenly as Lucien’s sword point threatened him.

  “I’d like to wring yer scrawny neck,” Will threatened, taking a step forward, causing the man to crouch down at Lucien’s feet.

  “Don’t let him near me! I beg of ye, please,” he cried.

  Lucien grabbed him by his shirt front and shook him like a dog shaking a rat he’d caught. “You wouldn’t also happen to know about a couple of cutthroats who attacked me in London, or a wagon that crushed my coach while I was conveniently held immobile, would you?” he asked dangerously.

  “Oh, no, wasn’t us, really, sir! I swear on my mother’s honor,” he whined.

  “Never had any honor, most likely,” John said doubtfully, tightening his hold on the two that squirmed in his grasp.