by Shana Galen
No, it was too dangerous to involve anyone else. They would be lucky if none of the guests was wandering about the grounds, foxed and disoriented.
“When we reach the stables, Your Grace will go inside and secure a fresh horse for me—a blood horse, mind you. Then you will bring me no less than one hundred pounds from the house.”
“What makes you think I have that kind of blunt lying around?” Andrew’s voice sounded cold and angry. The shock of his father’s death was wearing off. His anger might help them, but it could be a detriment if it led to impulsivity. “Use the jewels to finance your passage,” he said with a sneer.
“Save your suggestions, boy. I want to travel inconspicuously. I suggest you find me enough blunt to make it to the Continent, or I will slit first the boy’s throat, then your lover’s.” They had reached the side of the stable, and Lucifer gestured for them to pause in the shadows. “Put him down,” he ordered.
Lily reached for her son, cradling him as Andrew lowered him to the ground. They were close enough now that she could whisper to him. “Bring back a weapon,” she murmured as she took the boy.
“No!” he hissed. “We can’t ri—”
“No talking!” Lucifer roared, and Lily jumped from surprise. “Fetch me what I want, or I will kill them both.”
Andrew’s gaze was riveted to her face. She kept her own gaze steady, willing him to follow her instructions. “I only wanted to say I love you,” she said to Lucifer without breaking eye contact with Andrew. “I wish I had said it before. I wish I could tell you how much.”
“Lily—”
“Oh, do shut up!” Lucifer ordered. “I feel as though I may vomit. Go!” He gestured to Andrew. “And not another word.”
Andrew watched her for a long moment then moved along the wall of the stable until he disappeared inside. She watched him go from where she knelt on the grass and began to shiver. When she couldn’t see him any longer, she looked up at Lucifer. “When are you going to kill me?”
“What?” he gasped melodramatically. “I’m not going to kill you!” He was mocking her.
“There’s no need to kill the boy,” she said. “He doesn’t even know who I am. Kill me, but let him go.”
“You break my heart, Lily. I shall weep when I slit your throat.”
Not if I slit yours first. But she still needed a plan, and time was running out. When Andrew returned, they would need to act.
Her arms began to sag under the weight of her boy, and she lowered him slightly, until the backs of her hands touched the ground. Rough pieces of gravel scraped her knuckles. The drive was nearby, and the horses’ hooves had probably scattered some of the small, sharp stones over this portion of the lawns. Her fist closed around the gravel and sand, the small jagged pieces biting into her flesh. Her actions were hidden by the sleeping form of her son, but the longer Andrew took to return, the more agitated Lucifer became.
“Stand,” he ordered. “Leave the boy and stand beside me.”
She moved slowly, keeping her fists hidden in the folds of Andrew’s cape. The last thing she wanted was to give Lucifer an opportunity to put the pistol to her head. Then Andrew would never take a chance to attack the man.
“Move!” Lucifer ordered when she continued to drag her feet.
Hurry, Andrew. Hurry.
She heard footfalls, and prayed she had not imagined them. Lucifer looked in the direction of the sound as well, raising his pistol and readying it to fire. Andrew rounded the corner, leading a horse by the bridle. When he saw the pistol, he raised his hands to show he carried no weapon. Lily’s heart sank. But this was not the end. Andrew still had to go to the house to gather the quid Lucifer wanted. She feared that was the moment Lucifer would kill her. He’d have no use for her once he had the horse and the money.
“What took you so long?” Lucifer demanded.
Andrew dropped the bridle and moved to the horse’s flank, soothing the beast and pointing out the saddle. “I had to saddle him.”
“You took your time.”
Andrew shrugged. “It’s not something I do every day, and he has spirit.” His gaze flicked to hers, and there was something in it. Had she imagined it or…? Andrew’s hand slipped inside one of the saddlebags. If he had a weapon secreted inside, this was her chance. She could trust Andrew. He’d proven that over and over. Lily held her breath, and when Lucifer moved forward to take the horse’s reins, she loosed the mixture of sand and gravel into his face.
Lucifer yelled and brushed at the dirt and grime, and Andrew pulled some sort of metal implement from the saddlebag. He swung it at Lucifer, who still pawed at his eyes, and Lily realized it was a farrier’s hammer. The hammer made a thud when it hit Lucifer’s head, and he stumbled back. The horse, frightened by the commotion, danced to the side, and Lily ran to her son to move him away from the horse’s hooves.
Her loyalty to her son cost her. She’d thought the blow to Lucifer’s head harder than it was, and when she looked up from her small charge, Lucifer dove for Andrew’s abdomen. The two men sprawled across the ground, with Lucifer having the edge in this sort of fight. But Lucifer wasn’t fighting to win. He managed to roll Andrew over then jumped up and raced to the horse.
“No!” Lily screamed, but it was too late. She had only enough time to move the boy and herself out of Lucifer’s path as he spurred the horse away.
***
Andrew was damned if he was going to let that murderer escape now. Not only was his jaw throbbing where Lucifer had hit him, the man was on his best hunter. And then there was the small matter of Lucifer’s having murdered his father. The duke was no saint, but he didn’t deserve to be shot in the back in his own chapel.
And his mother.
Had he always known and just allowed himself to be deceived? He could not think of that now. He could not face it yet.
“Andrew!” Lily called. Sweet Lily. She loved him. And he loved her too. He didn’t know when that had happened. He’d loved her without even knowing it. But when he saw her throw the gravel into Lucifer’s face, that was the moment he knew for certain. That was the moment admiration and affection merged and he knew he would always love her. He knew he would do anything for her.
“I’m going after him!” Andrew called, racing into the stable. Several grooms, disturbed by the commotion, milled about, groggy and half-awake. “Out of my way.” He tore into the stall of one of the more amenable mares and led her out. As soon as he was free of the stables, he mounted clumsily and followed Lucifer.
“What are you doing?” Lily cried.
He turned to her. “You said you wanted to be there when I was forced to grow up.” If that time was not now, tonight, he did not know when else it could be. He raced away with the image of her shocked face in his mind. He knew which way Lucifer would go. If the man had any sense, and he did or he wouldn’t have stayed alive so long, he would head for the coast. He was wanted in London, or he might have made the trek there. It was as good a place as any to lose oneself, but it was a long ride from Nottinghamshire, and the coast was closer. Andrew was still on the estate’s grounds when he spotted Lucifer up ahead. Andrew wasn’t used to riding without a saddle, so he hung on tightly to the horse’s mane, leading her with his knees. Lucifer must have heard him coming, because he turned and spurred his horse forward.
But the man was a stranger to the beast, and the horse was not quick to obey. Andrew gained ground, his heart pounding as he neared Lucifer. Lucifer, sensing he was caught, raised the pistol and fired. Andrew ducked and turned the mare sharply left. And yet he still heard the shriek of the ball as it raced by him. Too close. His hands were clammy now and his heart pounding not from excitement but fear. And he was more determined than ever to kill this bastard who dared shoot at him.
He jabbed a knee into his mare’s flank, guiding her after the hunter again. Lucifer had gained some ground, but Andrew
would make it up. He ducked low, riding as fast as he could over the dark, uneven ground, and then he swore he heard hoofbeats.
He shook his head to clear it, but they did not disappear. He chanced a glance over his shoulder and gaped when he saw her.
Lily. On the back of one of his horses. And she was gaining on them.
Her hair flew out behind her, a ribbon of flame in the cloudy night. What the devil was she doing? She was going to fall and break her neck at that speed. The night sky was far too cloudy to make out obstacles, and she was riding as though she were racing on Rotten Row. As she gained speed, he could make out the horse she commanded. His fastest gelding, which explained how she had caught up to him. And the beast was saddled for a man. Her skirts were ruched up to her knees, and the look of determination on her face was more than a little bit scary. Truly, she surprised him at every turn.
“Go back!” he yelled. “You’re going to break your neck.”
She was abreast of him now, and she flashed him a grin. The woman was mad. That was the only explanation. “You go back. I’m trained for this sort of thing.”
No one was trained for this sort of thing, though he would admit she’d had some experience riding horses. She handled her mount exceptionally well.
Andrew dug his heels in, urging his horse faster as Lily’s mount began to outpace them. When he was beside her again, she glanced at him, then ahead to Lucifer. They would reach him in a matter of moments… that was if one or both of their horses didn’t fall into a ravine or trip on a fallen log. They rose over a field, and Andrew estimated they were no longer on Ravenscroft property. If it had been morning, he would have noted landmarks and known where they were, but for the moment, nothing looked familiar. He was not even certain at this point that he could have found his way back.
“If you’re going to stay with me,” she was saying, looking alternately at him and ahead at the man they pursued, “cut him off on that side. We’ll box him in!” she yelled over the thunder of the hooves.
It wasn’t a bad plan—for a madwoman. He didn’t have a better one, so he angled his horse to Lucifer’s right, while Lily took the left. Lucifer’s mount was finally flagging, and Andrew thought it was none too soon. His own horse would not last at this speed much longer. He spurred her one last time, wanting a final burst of speed, and then he was neck and neck with Lucifer. The man jogged his horse to the right, trying to collide with Andrew’s mount, but Andrew’s mare easily moved aside.
On Lucifer’s left, Lily gained momentum. Lucifer must have heard her, but Andrew was attempting to keep Lucifer’s attention to give Lily time to… he did not want to think about what she would do. She undoubtedly had a plan, and undoubtedly, he did not want to know it.
As Lily closed in and Lucifer turned to gauge her progress, Andrew reached for Lucifer’s horse’s bridle. Lucifer jerked the beast aside. Unfortunately, he all but ran into Lily. Andrew yelled to warn her, but he needn’t have bothered. She was ready, and she dove from her horse onto Lucifer’s.
Andrew felt his chest constrict. He watched in stunned silence as both she and Lucifer went over the horse’s back and tumbled to the ground in a dizzying blur of dust and bodies. And then they were gone, and Andrew had to rein in his mount and reverse direction. The other two horses continued running. They would slow and return on their own. Andrew nudged his horse back, his gaze searching the ground for some movement among the various shapes.
And then he spotted them. He caught the glint of Lily’s hair in a brief flash of moonlight. She lay in a heap on the ground, and neither she nor Lucifer moved.
Nineteen
For a moment, she didn’t want to open her eyes. Everything hurt.
And then she remembered Lucifer, and she forced her eyes open and attempted to sit.
“Stay still.” Andrew was kneeling beside her, his expression full of worry. “You took a nasty fall.”
“I didn’t fall.” She struggled to sit, despite his injunction. “I jumped.”
“I was trying to give you the benefit of the doubt. It was a suicidal maneuver.” He seemed to realize she was not going to stay put. Reluctantly, he cupped her elbow and assisted her to her feet.
“It is only suicidal if I fail. Where is he?” A movement caught her attention, and she spun to find Lucifer gaining his feet. “Oh, no you don’t.”
She went after him, her body protesting the movement even as she pushed the limits of her endurance. Lucifer was limping himself, a dirty, crooked remnant of what he’d been. She caught up to him then ducked when he swung at her.
“I’ll kill you yet,” he rasped.
“You are welcome to try.” She’d never been lauded for her talents at fisticuffs, but she had learned a thing or two living on the streets of London. When he lunged for her, she elegantly sidestepped then brought her foot up, slamming it into his breadbasket—that was what the pugilists called it, was it not?
He doubled over, and she rounded and kicked him in the flank. But he was ready for her, and he caught her ankle and tipped her backward. She fell and rolled before he could grab her. But he was quick and dove before she could move well away. He would have landed on her had Andrew not stepped in. She thought he had shown remarkable restraint in waiting this long. But now he caught Lucifer by the shoulder, swung the man around, and plowed his fist into Lucifer’s face. Even if she could not see the blood spatter in the dark, she could hear the sickening smack of flesh crushing into bone.
Lucifer wheeled back and fell on his belly. But Andrew grabbed him, yanking him up and slamming his fist into the man over and over again. Lily was too shocked for a moment to do anything but stare, and then she blinked. Andrew was going to kill him. “Stop!” She rose to her knees, wobbled to her feet, and stumbled to the two men, one limp and one unrelenting in his assault. “Andrew! No!”
The new duke did not seem to hear her. Lucifer had collapsed to the ground, and Andrew fell to his knees beside the unconscious man, pummeling him. Lily took a risk and jumped in front of Lucifer. She winced as Andrew’s fist slammed down, but he pulled the punch at the last moment.
“Move.”
“No. You are killing him. Enough.” The wind had kicked up now, sending the clouds racing above them. The moon’s light shone intermittently, and she caught a flash of the anger and determination set as though in stone on Andrew’s face.
“Move!”
“No!” she screamed up at him. “I cannot allow you to kill him. Justice—”
“What justice?” Behind him, the wind whipped his hair about his face, making him look like some sort of madman. But she could not give up now. She had promised the Crown answers, and she would deliver. Lucifer would stand trial for his crimes. If Andrew continued in this manner, he would be the one on trial. “Did my father receive justice?” Andrew yelled. He stood rigid, his fists balled. “My father is dead. Where’s the justice in that? My mother is dead too. Both traitors. How do I live with that knowledge? There’s no justice!” He spat the word, and then he bent slightly. It was enough of a capitulation that Lily rose and went to him.
She wrapped her arms around him, and he stiffened, resisting for a moment. And then he crumpled against her. “There’s no justice,” he said, voice full of anguish.
“Shh.” She stroked his back, and together they went to their knees. “You are not a murderer, Andrew. A quick death is not justice. Justice is a lifetime in prison or the agony of waiting for an appointment at the gallows.”
His arms came around her, and she knew the rage inside him was ebbing away. The sound of hooves drew her attention, and she spotted several grooms riding toward them. When they neared, she held up a hand, giving them the signal to stand back and respect their lord’s privacy.
“I cannot believe he is gone,” Andrew murmured against her shoulder. “She is gone. Is it wrong to miss her?”
“No, no. Never. I understand,
Andrew. I do. You know I do.” She missed her own parents. She did not even know if they still lived, but no matter. She had been dead to them years ago. “Killing Lucifer will not bring your mother or your father back. Nothing can do that.”
His body relaxed, and he pulled back from her, holding her lightly about the waist. She saw his gaze land on the grooms and then flick to Lucifer’s motionless form. She began to rise, expecting him to do the same. It would be a long night of explanations and details to be seen to. Her son must be tended. The duke’s body retrieved.
But Andrew held her in place, his hands moving from her waist to cup her face. “How is it you are so wise, Lily Dawson?”
“I’m a courtesan.” She smiled at him. “We know everything.”
He kissed her lightly. “Yes. You do.”
He rose then and went to the grooms, but throughout the remainder of the night and the long day that followed, she was never far from his side. She tried, a dozen times, to give him a moment alone, but he would catch her hand and draw her to his side. When his sister departed in the morning, the decision having been made that the trip to her elder sister’s should not be put off, Andrew kept Lily by his side throughout the tearful farewell. Like her brother, Emma had two parents to mourn now.
The broken man she had held briefly in her arms on the cold, windy field the night before did not return. Andrew was every inch the duke now. He had taken the mantle and wore it as though it had always been his. Several times, throughout the ordeal, she found herself watching him, amazed at how serious, how efficient he was. This was the man who had a quip for everyone and every situation. This was the man who recited bawdy verses he’d spent hours composing himself. This was the man who danced at balls until the sun rose.
This was the man who had never given her a second glance. Now he would not allow her out of his sight.
She’d had to reveal something of her role in the Foreign Office during the investigation that followed. Her first priority had been ensuring her son was safely back in the arms of his parents. After a doctor had examined the lad and assured her he would be fine, she had escorted him home herself in the carriage. The Ravenscroft steward had accompanied her, and she’d left it to him to explain to the boy’s distraught parents. The less involvement she had, the better. She had already put him in danger. She would never do so again.