The Black Rose

by Christina Skye

"Ammmmmm!"

  The fingers did not loosen in their implacable assault. "Do you understand me now?"

  Tess continued to kick, driven by raw terror and fury.

  A knee settled into the hollow of her back, driving her whole body against the tree's bulk. "Stop fighting!" he snarled.

  The cold metal muzzle of a pistol dug into her neck.

  Tess shuddered as her breasts were driven against the rough trunk. He was far too strong for her to resist, especially now that she knew he had a pistol. She would have to think of something else.

  With a pronounced slump of her shoulders, she stopped struggling.

  Slowly Simon's fingers loosened, and his knee fell. "Better, my dear. Much better. We shall rub along together perfectly, I think, as long as you remember your place in the grand scheme of things. Which is rather lower than you like to believe," he added, with a short, dry bark of laughter. "And now we are at our destination, I see. Which means ..."

  Suddenly Tess felt him tug a wide strip of cloth over her eyes and jerk it tight in a knot. She twisted frantically, only to feel the pistol dig into her ribs. "Remember what I said," Lennox hissed. "If you wish to see your lover alive, that is."

  Little pebbles skittered over the flagstones as he pushed her over the terrace behind the priory. Tess felt cold tendrils of fog drift about her ankles. Dear God, did Lennox have Ravenhurst in his grasp too?

  Up the stairs he drove her, step by stumbling step, while the wind hissed down through the crenelated stones. Black fingers of fear clawed at Tess's mind, her heart drumming as she seized upon her one slim chance of escape.

  He thought her sightless and disoriented beneath the muffling cloth. True and yet not quite true, for long days of blindness had left Tess with new strengths. Now her ears were keen, picking out space by sound. To her right she heard faint echoes where a wall rose close by; to the left, the blank stillness of empty space.

  Yes, it was all there. She had forgotten nothing. Somehow she must use that knowledge and make it serve her ends now.

  The wind hit her, damp and clinging, and Tess realized she was beyond the corner towers, at the center of the roof. Carefully she calculated the distance between the dilapidated wall at her right and the fallen ruin of stones somewhere to her left.

  Embracing the blindness, searching the darkness, just as her Frenchman had once taught her to do aboard the Liberte.

  It was her only chance of survival.

  Swiftly Lennox pushed her forward until her back met a high, jagged wall. Then he reached around to untie her gag. "You shouldn't have long to wait, my dear. He should be here any — ah, that must be Ransley now, unless I miss my guess. Yes, the man's swagger would be hard to mistake. He's grown quite unmanageable since I gave him the business of that girl in Applegate. I'm afraid he positively relishes that sort of work."

  "R-Ransley was w-working with you?" Tess's lips were dry and cracked, but she forced herself to speak, praying that this might grant her precious minutes of delay.

  "An unpleasant sort of fellow," Lord Lennox said ruminatively, "but really rather brilliant at what he does. Unfortunately, the Fox was the one thing Ransley feared. So the business of eliminating him fell to me. Simple enough, however. I merely had to watch in the copse and bide my time. I knew he would come back to see you sooner or later. I admit I did not expect to see Ravenhurst though. The lovely Danielle had her uses, but they did not include ferreting out information about you, lamentably.

  But of course, how remiss of me. You have not made the acquaintance of the viscount's mistress."

  Tess's breath caught. The Frenchwoman at the Angel, the one carrying Dane's child. Jealousy ate through her for a moment, and then something else, which she recognized as fierce, gnawing regret. She had wished for a child of her own some day.

  Now it seemed she had lost her chance.

  Stop it, lassie. This game's yet to be played.

  Tess stiffened, hearing that gruff, chiding voice echo through the chaos of her thoughts.

  Jack?

  But the Fox was dead. With her own eyes she had seen him die. No one could help her now.

  From far below came the muffled tread of feet, interspersed with harsh, smothered curses. Little rocks skittered over flagstone with angry, pinging sounds.

  "H-how long have you known?" Tess asked. "About my masquerade?" It hurt to speak, but she managed it somehow, her voice dry and raspy.

  "Some six months now. Hawkins wanted to take you, shall we say, in hand long ago, but I forced him to wait, for you still had your uses."

  "Hawkins?" Tess's voice was flat with disbelief. "He is involved in this — this villainy?"

  "His admittance to my little secret was a necessary evil. One more weak link in the chain," Lennox mused, almost as if he had forgotten her presence. "Yes, I rather think —" He broke off, his sentence unfinished, as hard boots clumped up the stairs. "So, here they are at last. Efficient as usual, Mr. Ransley. My compliments."

  "Aw, this bastard weren't no trouble. Only he weren't where you said he'd be. Picked 'im up on the Rye road, and bloody surly he were too. After a few friendly taps he learnt his manners right enough," the unkempt man added smugly, pushing his captive forward. "Bound his eyes just like yer said, Eagle."

  For long moments the two men faced each other, wariness and something darker, more primitive, etched on their faces. Ravenhurst growled something incomprehensible beneath his gag, and Lennox smiled faintly.

  "It has been a long and tedious business, Ravenhurst, but at last my plans are near to completion. These last weeks you have dogged me rather too closely for comfort, something I fear I can no longer tolerate." Lennox's green eyes flared, burning against the cool pallor of his face.

  "Dane?" Tess asked unsteadily, desperate to know what was happening. "What — what have you done with him, you bloody scum?"

  "Your viscount is only a little mussed, my dear. But I think I shall remove his gag now. It will be amusing, I think — for the few minutes that remain to you." Like a shroud, those flat, emotionless words choked Tess.

  "Yes, there is a certain aptness to the scene, don't you agree?" Lennox mused. "He is muzzled; she is blind. Just as you were in Brittany, my dear. Ah yes, I know all about those days. For I was there, too, you see, busy with tasks of my own. Although at the time I did not realize the identity of the Liberte's bold captain. A pity." His voice tightened fractionally. "Now those tasks require my undivided attention. Which, unfortunately for you, means that your continued presence would be a decided nuisance. So it must be, I am afraid, ave atque vale, my friends."

  Tess stiffened, hearing Lennox turn slightly. His voice became cold and precise. "Toss them over, Ransley. The girl first. A lover's quarrel, I am sad to say. Unfortunate, to be sure, but such things happen, especially with two people so — headstrong — as these. And there is the viscount's instability too. Ah yes, nightmares still haunt the Devil of Trafalgar, I'm afraid. Those, too, I know about, Ravenhurst. Danielle is a very efficient instrument of information."

  Tess heard a low, muffled curse, followed by the sputtering of gravel, and then Ransley grunting in pain as bone smashed against bone. There came another thump, and this time it was Ravenhurst who groaned.

  "Stop it, damn you!" Tess raged, her blood churning with a desperate urge for survival. After all the suffering she had known, she refused to be cheated of her existence now. Not by a twisted, amoral traitor like the Eagle. "Is that what you did to my father, throw him off the roof? He never had an accident on horseback in his life, for he was a bruising rider. It was one thing I always wondered about." Tess knew she had to keep Lennox talking. Perhaps then Dane would have time to recover from that last punishing blow of Ransley's.

  Yes, talk was their only hope.

  "Really, my dear, you are so patent," Lennox chided coldly. "Talking will avail you nothing. However, since it is something of a deathbed request, I suppose I must answer the question." He laughed, low and humorlessly. "No, as a matter of fa
ct, I simply set a small and rather vicious spiny shell beneath his horse's saddle. He always favored that big black mount, and the brute went berserk, tossing your father from the cliffs. The whole thing was accomplished in a matter of minutes, leaving me the unpleasant task of bringing him back up closer to Fairleigh, since the discovery of his body so near the mouth of my tunnel would have been inconvenient in the extreme. Yes," Lennox added thoughtfully, "your father died as he had lived — sweating and swearing to the very last."

  Tess's lips pressed in a thin line, imagining that final, gory scene. "But he did not die."

  "Nonsense, my dear. I saw him with my own eyes. I carried him up the cliff path, remember?"

  Was there a hint of tension in Lennox's voice? Tess wondered. "But my father did not die that night. He died only hours ago."

  "What pathetic attempt at deceit is this? You'll get nowhere with this nonsense, I warn you."

  Tess cocked her head, hearing a faint rustling somewhere to her left. Was Ravenhurst coming around at last? "Leighton?" She managed a cold laugh. "That man was not my father."

  She allowed the tense silence to stretch out, able to imagine the faint flattening of Lennox's mouth. Yes, he was a man who would not like untidiness or surprises. "No, my real father was a man of rare talents, of hidden skills. He taught me everything he knew. He was the Fox, you see, and it is his pistol that points at you right now from my pocket," she finished coolly.

  "You are a liar." But there was an infinitesimal hesitation before Lennox spoke again. Tess could feel the cold fury of his gaze upon her. "Yes, a liar — for all that you do it superbly."

  "Shall we conduct our own little experiment then? Not a fair bargain, certainly, since I am blinded by this cloth," Tess added viciously. "But then, you were never fair with any other of your victims, were you? The true mark of a coward."

  "Life would have been interesting with you, my dear," Lennox said softly. "I am almost sorry that I must deny myself that pleasure. And as for experiments, those, too, I must decline. The hour grows late, and I have — investments, shall we say — to protect." His boots crunched toward Tess. "Give it to me," he snarled.

  "I think not." Tess's heart slammed wildly against her ribs. For God's sake, where was Dane? Why did he not assist her? They had so little time left.

  Tess went still, hearing a faint noise. Was it the distant drum of horses' hooves? Thomas, perhaps, or Hobhouse?

  "In that case your friend the viscount goes over the edge — rather sooner than I had planned."

  Perdition! Tess swore silently. The villain held all the cards and he knew it. But why was Ravenhurst still silent? Had his wound been graver than she realized?

  Outside in the darkness the drumming grew louder, a rider approaching.

  Tess's throat went dry. There were no choices left. "Very well. Leave him here and I will hand over the gun. Then you can do what you like with me. By the time he can work his way free, you and your precious gold shipment will be far away from here."

  Lennox laughed softly. "Very cool, my dear. I've always admired a woman who knows how to play a poor hand, even when it's quite hopeless. Now give me the pistol and then we'll discuss Ravenhurst's fate."

  Tess tossed her head and laughed. "You must consider me a great fool to ask such a thing. Without this pistol, I am powerless."

  Silently Lennox inched closer. "Even with this much mentioned pistol — which I have yet to see, by the way — you are still powerless, my dear. For one sign from me and Ransley throws the viscount over that crumbling wall." A strange tension entered Lennox's voice. "By God, you really do love him, don't you? So much that you would give up everything for him?"

  "That is none of your affair, I think," Tess said flatly. "Love is an emotion you could scarcely comprehend. I see that now. To my eternal shame, the discovery came too late."

  Lennox made a dry, clicking sound. "Don't upbraid yourself for that, my dear Tess. My act was a very good one, and it has been honed on far more worldly creatures than yourself." His boots inched closer, rustling over the little stones between them.

  "Stay back," Tess hissed. "I warn you, I shall shoot. I am sightless, but my hearing is most acute."

  "And I begin to grow bored by this masquerade."

  Tess felt faint drops of sweat bead her skin beneath the thick linen at her eyes. "Do you care to risk your life on that gamble?"

  "I believe I do."

  A horse neighed somewhere down the slope toward the great house. Hope surged in Tess's heart. "Very well. Since you leave me no choice ..."

  Suddenly, with a muffled snarl, Ravenhurst exploded from the wall where Ransley had been holding him, his grip growing ever looser as the viscount continued slack in his hold. With a sharp jab to his captor's unguarded stomach, Ravenhurst broke free and spun about toward Lennox.

  Then nothing but silence.

  Ashen-faced, Tess strained to hear the slightest whisper of movement. It came a moment later, two pair of feet crunching over the rock-strewn surface at the center of the roof.

  Dimly she heard the wind sing down over the hill. Somewhere an owl cried, short and shrill.

  There were no hoof beats now, she realized, only an ominous silence.

  Wildly she wrenched at the bonds that held her captive, squirming and twisting in an attempt to reach the linen at her eyes. But her hands remained locked as before, the knots as firm and unyielding as ever. With short, careful steps she moved along the wall, her back to the cold stone, working her way toward the steps.

  If only she could reach Thomas ...

  Behind her the boots crunched on pebbles, circling slowly. Neither man spoke, intent on this last, life-and-death struggle.

  Almost at the steps, Tess calculated. One more foot and then ...

  Dull thumps echoed up the stairway. "Thomas?" she whispered.

  A hand cupped her shoulder softly, then squeezed.

  "Thank God," she breathed, sagging against that short, powerful body.

  Shoulders too broad for Thomas's? Fingers too hard?

  Warm, damp breath played across her neck. "Gave it to ye good, did he, this Thomas? I'll give it to ye even better, lovey. Don't ye worry none about that."

  A moan wrenched from Tess's throat as those stubby fingers probed her neck. Dear God, it was Amos Hawkins who held her — and Hawkins was one of the Eagle's men!

  Chapter Forty-One

  Whirling about, Tess tried to run, only to stumble on a fallen slab of granite. The next minute Hawkins dragged her to her feet. "Let them bastards fight their battles in peace. Me and yerself got more important things to keep us occupied, eh?" His hard fingers pinched and probed, ruthlessly exploring breast, thigh, and stomach.

  Dear God, she had played right into his hands!

  From behind Tess came the harsh thump of a powerful blow landing on flesh. Lennox grunted, snarling a curse.

  Hawkins jerked her hand from her pocket, revealing nothing more than a rigid fist. "Fooled him well, didn't ye, wench?" His mouth was hot and wet at her ear. "About time someone taught that bastard a lesson or two. But now I mean to take ye in hand. God, I'm near to exploding already!" Brutal and jabbing, his fingers wrenched at her skirts, seeking the secret recesses of her body.

  Wildly, Tess twisted, kicking and panting until one foot met solid muscle.

  Hawkins grunted in pain. "Ye bloody little bitch! I'll teach ye to —" His open palm cracked across Tess's jaw, sending her reeling to hands and knees. "Aye, here and now I'll take ye. Rough like, on all fours, until ye beg me to stop. Only I won't stop, d' ye see? I'll ram myself inside ye again and again, until ye learn to soften yer tongue! Aye, on me, wench." His voice rose, hoarse with lust and the image of his own vile pleasures.

  Tess bit back a sob of pain, working her feet beneath her and struggling to stand.

  From the open circle of stone behind her came short, muffled curses. Once more a blow was landed, and this time it was Ravenhurst who grunted in pain.

  Stumbling, she i
nched back along the wall, hearing Hawkins stalk closer.

  "Aye, I'll get ye, bitch. And when I do —"

  Suddenly a ragged cry exploded behind them. Desperate fingers dug at scattered stones; twisting feet kicked against the granite slabs.

  Then a harsh cry, followed by the sound of a body bumping over the ruined parapet and plummeting to the ground, a hail of gravel and loose stones raining down in its wake.

  Tess stifled a scream. Dear God, which one?

  Hawkins stopped moving.

  She heard the rustle of clothing.

  "Ah, a bracing bit of exercise."

  Lennox! Tess thought, blackness flooding over her. Once again he had won.

  "Nooooo!" Wildly she threw herself toward the spot where Ravenhurst's body had made its muffled descent.

  But Lennox caught her at the edge. "Not quite yet, my dear. I still have one more thing to finish." He drew out the eagle-crested ring from his pocket. "Soon everyone will be talking of Ravenhurst and the shocking things he did to those poor females. Yes, who would have dreamed he would take advantage of his office in such a way, indulging in such depravity? And a smuggler as well." The earl made a clicking noise. "Terrible business, indeed. And you, my dear Tess, you must wear his mark. Then I will slip the ring onto his finger, where it will be easy for the investigating magistrate to find."

  The earl's hand tightened on Tess's waist. Cruelly he began to drive the sharp face of the ring into her right cheek. "The first time, with the boy, it was a mistake. I forgot all about the mark this ring would leave. Now, what was the fellow's name? Thorpe, yes, that's it. I found him nosing around the end of my tunnel. A calculated risk to dispose of someone who was so obviously a government agent, but in the end his death proved remarkably useful. When his body was discovered at Fairleigh Cove, where I so carefully left it, it would be certain to throw suspicion on you, my dear. Of course, I saw to it that the boy received a message which appeared to come from you, and so his suspicions were passed on to the riding officer who found him just before he died. So sorry, my dear, but a rabbit needs must have more than one hole, you know. Or an Eagle, one nest." Lennox laughed coldly. "Then the idea came to me — quite a brilliant one, I think. Why not leave the same mark on all my victims? Or on all the Fox's victims, I should say. Which means Ravenhurst's." Lennox continued to chuckle as the cold metal bit into Tess's soft skin.