by Anne Ashley
‘And the gullible Marchioness’s downfall was assured,’ Jennifer murmured, at a loss to understand why she had never guessed the truth long since.
‘Yes…except your subsequent disappearance was not foreseen by my cunning sister. She expected Julian to file for divorce. She knew it would take years, but she was prepared to wait, and as I’ve already mentioned time means nothing to Melissa. I, on the other hand, have very little left to me. That is why as soon as I’d learned of your return from some English visitors touring my adopted country, I came here to put you on your guard about Melissa. She’ll never give up, Jenny. As long as she feels there’s a chance that one day she’ll be given the title which you now hold, she’ll never give up.’
‘How well you know me, my dear brother… But your warning comes a little late.’
So stunned was she by Melissa’s unexpected appearance that it was as much as Jennifer could do to rise from her chair. She was vaguely aware that Geoffrey had risen too, but she didn’t attempt to look at him, for her attention was captured by the malevolent gleam in the widow’s dark eye, a look no less dangerous than the lethally formed piece of metal which she held clasped in her right hand.
Geoffrey edged a little further round the table. ‘Jennifer knows everything. It’s over, Melissa.’
‘It is certainly over for you, dear brother,’ was the swift response. ‘I do not take kindly to being betrayed.’
If the threat unnerved him at all, there was certainly no evidence of it in his voice. ‘And what do you propose to do…kill us both?’ He scoffed, determined to brazen it out, it seemed. ‘You’ll never get away with it.’
The contemptuous curl to the full lips grew more pronounced. ‘Oh, I rather think I shall. Unlike you, dear brother, I’ve always been well respected in these parts. The tale I’ll spin will be believed, and my steward will not be slow to verify my story. He’ll confirm that I was ignorant of your return until he apprised me of the fact this very morning, and that I immediately left the house in a high state of agitation, afraid of what you might do. I’ll merely inform the authorities that my brother, in a state of jealous rage, killed the woman he had always loved, when he learned of the reconciliation between her and her husband, and I arrived in time to see him put a period to his own existence. You see, dear brother, I think of everything. I took the precaution, before leaving the house, of collecting those duelling pistols you had years ago.’
Jennifer, who had noticed that Geoffrey had continued to edge his way towards her, watched Melissa raise the pistol in her hand, and take careful aim. Before she could even manage to scream out for help, there was a deafening report and Geoffrey, who had placed himself in the line of fire, slumped to the ground. The next moment the door was thrown wide, and Julian, miraculously appearing in the room, was prizing the second pistol from Melissa’s hand.
It was an unequal struggle. Julian swiftly had the weapon safely tucked away in his own pocket, and was glowering at Melissa, his eyes as cold and merciless as hers had been only moments before.
Unscrupulously ruthless Melissa might have been throughout her life, but she was certainly no fool. Julian’s expression of loathing betrayed clearly that he had heard and seen enough to condemn her. For the first time her eyes were shadowed by fear, as she backed away from him, muttering incoherently. She cast one brief glance towards the open window. The room then echoed with a shout of hysterical laughter and, before Julian could reach her, she had thrown herself out of the window to land beneath the wheels of a passing dray.
Women’s screams, mingling with the sounds of terrified horses, rose from the street below. Unlike Julian, who had darted across to the window, Jennifer concentrated on the figure lying on the floor and, kneeling, gently raised Geoffrey’s head on her lap.
‘Julian, quickly! Fetch the doctor,’ she called, but Geoffrey, managing to raise his arm a little, arrested his lordship’s progress across to the door.
‘No,’ he murmured. ‘Melissa was right—it is too late for me, and it’s better this way.’
Seeing the blood oozing from the wound in the thin chest, Julian knew at once that a doctor would be of no help. He had every reason to despise the man lying at his feet, and yet he experienced no enmity now. Geoffrey had more than made up for the great wrong he had inflicted by saving Jennifer’s life.
‘Wroxam, I never touched her,’ the weakening voice was barely audible. ‘I want you to know that. She has always been yours. I swear I never laid a finger on her that day.’
‘I know,’ Julian replied softly, and only hoped that his words had penetrated before he watched the life fade from the pale blue eyes.
Bending, he gently placed Geoffrey’s head on the floor, before drawing Jennifer to her feet. She was, understandably, pale, but thankfully betrayed no other outward signs of distress. His one thought now was to remove her from the scene of the tragedy, and help was at hand in the form of Mr Dent who, having forced his way through the small group of inn servants gathered about the door, stepped into the room.
‘Theo, take charge of things here while I take Jennifer downstairs.’
His lordship might have changed during the past months, but not to the extent that he could not command respect when he chose. One brief and very idiomatic sentence sent the servants scurrying about their business, and a brief consultation with the landlady ensured that his Marchioness would receive the utmost care and attention until his return.
After a further brief consultation with Theodore, he organised the removal of the bodies, and then returned to the person who remained his main concern, to discover her sitting in the landlady’s private sitting room, looking remarkably composed in the circumstances, and willing to relate all that had taken place before his timely arrival at the inn.
‘I should have known,’ he said softly, after learning all. ‘As soon as I believed you truly retained few memories of that afternoon, I certainly suspected something. My suspicions, however, were directed at the wrong person entirely. It was only after your accident a few weeks ago that I began to wonder whether Melissa’s fell hand had not been behind all our misfortunes. That is why as soon as I discovered that she was heading here, I didn’t hesitate to follow.’
He drew her gently to her feet. ‘Come,’ he coaxed. ‘I shall need to return to town later, but in the meantime I intend to see you safely home.’
Shielding her from the tell-tale red stains on the road where Melissa had met her end, he guided her round to the inn yard where the carriage stood in readiness for them to leave. A familiar whinny reached their ears, and Julian ordered the ostler, who was doing his best to keep a firm hold on the reins, to release the troublesome black hunter, and Oriel came trotting over, greeting Jennifer in his usual inimitable fashion.
‘So, you rode to my rescue on my baby.’
‘Yes, and I thank God I did! Had I arrived a minute later, I would have been too late. And I think he knew. He brought me here like the wind, bless him.’ Shaking his head in wonder, Julian stroked the sleek black neck. ‘I have never had any rival for your affections, save one. And I don’t object in the least to that.’
After securing Oriel to the back of the carriage himself, he caught hold of Jennifer’s hand. ‘Come, let us go home.’
Still very shaken though she was after the tragic events of the morning, Jennifer somehow managed a wan smile. ‘There was a time when I would never have believed it possible that I would come to look upon Wroxam Park as home…but, yes, my love, take me home.’
ISBN: 978-1-4592-3156-6
THE RELUCTANT MARCHIONESS
First North American Publication 2005
Copyright © 2002 by Anne Ashley
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without th
e written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.
All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.
This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
® and TM are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries.
www.eHarlequin.com