by Cheryl Howe
“Where is Arianna?” Maddox said. “If you think this has saved you from being cast out of your father’s good graces, you are wrong.”
“I think you must have me confused with someone else. I’ve never been in my father’s good graces.”
“I told you to leave him be, Maddox. This has nothing to do with him.” Darien turned to the strange sound of his father’s voice defending him. It was the wrong thing to do because the blow to his chin came with unexpected force. Darien tried to catch himself, but he stumbled a bit then dropped to his knees. A shot rang out and Darien feared he might have mischarged the weapon he still held loosely in his hand.
He instinctively glanced in his father’s direction, who searched the estate to find the source of the fire. Another shot whizzed by Darien’s head, forcing him to stay low to the ground. Robert grunted, stumbled forward, then fell in a tangle of long, lifeless limbs. Maddox’s gaze darted about and he ducked on the other side of Westhaven’s horse. Another shot skipped off Maddox’s boot print. The shooter appeared to be in the woods surrounding the estate, but he couldn’t be far to hit so accurately. Or not so accurately, as the case may be.
Tense silence filled the yard while everyone waited to see from where the next shot would come. Darien crawled to Robert, unable to bear not knowing if his nephew was dead or alive.
“Damn it, Darien. Stay down,” yelled his father.
Darien crouched a bit more, though someone could certainly shoot him if they wanted to. He rolled Robert over, brushed aside his long coat and found his white shirt stained with blood.
Everyone had been right. Darien should never have come on this hunt. Some things were best left alone.
***
Rand Fitzgerald and Darien carried Robert up the narrow servants’ staircase, the closest way to the nearest bedroom. His father followed, breathing heavily but still able to shout orders. “Hurry! His mother mustn’t see him like this. To the left at the top of the stairs.”
Darien could not help but think someone had carried his own brother up these steps, perhaps unconscious, perhaps bleeding from a wound in his abdomen that was most often fatal. Though Darien had grown up in this house, he was happy to take instruction from his father. Currently he could think of nothing but handling his wounded nephew as gently as possible.
“Wake up Dr. Shipley,” his father said to the butler who trailed the procession. “We shall need his assistance immediately.
“Lot of bloody good he did for Philip.” Darien regretted his choice of words when he saw the grim look on his brother-in-laws’s face. Rand had hardly spoken, just tried to carry his son himself until they decided it would rattle Robert less if the two of them did it together. “Is there anyone else we can send for? Perhaps someone who’s had medical training in this century.”
“It was too late for Philip. Shipley will save young Robert.” His father rushed past them and opened the door. “Here. Right here.”
Darien readjusted his grip under Robert’s knees. A trail of blood on a pale Persian rug marked their journey.
“Who in the bloody hell did this?” Darien said to no one in particular.
“Who do you think, you bastard?” Maddox appeared in the open doorway. “Don’t think we won’t track down the underling you hired to do your dirty work. Neither kidnapping the bride nor shooting the preacher will stop this wedding.”
They laid Robert on the bed, not bothering to remove the peach satin bed coverings that matched the striped tester hanging above. Darien let Rand arrange his son’s pillows. Maddox’s unwelcome presence reminded Darien of his bruised jaw that had just begun to throb and that he needed to do something about it.
“If I wanted someone shot, it would have been you.” Darien marched to Maddox and shoved him hard in the chest. Maddox flew from the door’s jam, colliding with a marble column holding a flower arrangement in the hall.
“Stop it! You’ll wake the entire household,” yelled his father in the authoritative voice that was always obeyed. His father brushed away the butler who tried to help him into a chair.
“Your heart, my lord. I shall bring your medicine.”
Darien cast a questioning gaze, but his father shook off the butler as if whatever obviously ailed him was of no consequence. “Light a fire in the hearth. Where is the doctor?”
Rand tried to remove Robert’s coat, forcing him to cry out sharply. Maddox had survived his tumble with the statuary and returned to his observation post, noticeably outside the doorway to Robert’s sickroom.
“We shall finish this later.” Darien wanted to slam the door in the other man’s face, but knew servants were bringing bandages. Another anguished scream from Robert forced Darien to turn his back on Maddox. Rand, as pale as his son, stood over Robert unable to remove his jacket completely.
“Someone find some shears.” Darien pushed aside his brother-in-law to stand by Robert’s side. “We’ll cut away his shirt and coat.” Darien heard scrambling and a yes, my lord.
Robert surprised Darien by suddenly struggling to sit up. “Let me see. How bad is it?”
Rand held him firmly down. “You’re losing a lot of blood, son. Please lie still. Dr. Shipley is on his way.”
“Not Shipley,” Robert said firmly, though he followed his father’s instruction and collapsed against the pillows. “I sat next to him at tea and his hands shake. Darien, bring Arianna.”
“No!” A shrill scream sounded from the doorway. Lily catapulted herself into the room. She shoved her husband and Darien aside to lean over her son. Her frantic gaze assessed his wound.
“No, my dear.” Westhaven stood, his face red and wet from tears. “It’s no use. Please, Vivian. He’s dead.”
Darien turned to his father, his face a tight mask of pain. “Are you all right, Father? That’s Lily not mother.”
“And I’m not dead, by the way. Just in a hell of a lot of pain. Mother, please.” Though Robert’s voice sounded weak and raspy, he remained strong enough to brush his mother’s fingers away from plucking at his bloody shirt.
Lily straightened, turned to Darien. “My God, what happened? What did you do?”
Darien glanced at his father, expecting him to answer. Westhaven blinked in obvious confusion and sunk back into his chair. Guilt settled in Darien’s gut though he never in his wildest dreams expected this to happen. He stared into his sister’s eyes and found no words to defend himself.
“We were ambushed,” Rand said huskily. “I should have stopped it. I should have done something.”
Lily turned to her husband, examined his anguished features, then embraced him tightly.
“There was nothing he could have done. Nothing any of us could have done. They’re searching the grounds now. They’ll find who did this.” Darien glanced at Robert. His eyes fluttered to stay open and he seemed to grow even paler.
“What the bloody hell is taking Doctor Shipley so long?” Westhaven suddenly bellowed as if just coming to his senses. “Go fetch him, son.”
“I’m here.” The doctor rushed into the room, his coat half buttoned, his long white wig, which hadn’t even been in style a decade ago, askew. “I had to gather my supplies. Good. A fire is heated. I’ll need that. And leeches. We shall need more leeches.”
“Darien,” called Robert. “Bring Arianna. She knows anatomy.”
Lily plastered herself in front of her son. “Oh, no, you don’t,” she said to Dr. Shipley. “I saw what you did to my mother and you’re not touching my son.”
“I’ll bring Arianna.” Darien sprinted out the door.
***
Ivy tried to convince herself that she enjoyed having her cocoa without balancing Melody in the crook of her arm, but longed to snatch her back from Arianna. After collecting her just after dawn, Ivy had been unable to lay her down. And Melody did love the attention. She reached for Arianna’s nose and squealed in delight.
“Oh, she has Lord Blackmore’s wicked grin, don’t you darling.” Arianna bounced Melody
in her arms.
“I believe it’s more like his drunken grin. Perhaps I should take her. She might need a change.” Ivy could not help but smile, though Melody’s growing resemblance to her father proved unsettling. If she and Darien actually had a chance at a future together, Ivy must tell him the truth sooner than later.
“Let me hold her a bit longer. I think brown eyes must be a trait of Lord Blackmore’s mother.” Arianna sounded stuffy again, a sure sign she was going to become teary.
“I hope you are not too scandalized,” Ivy said, hoping a change in subject would distract Arianna. “Need I say, your discretion on the matter of my daughter would be very much appreciated.” Ivy would never deny her bond to Melody again. No one would ever have the means to take Melody from her.
Arianna shifted Melody to the crook of her arm so she could place a hand on her heart, and lift the other in the air. Ivy smiled at Arianna’s sincere gaze and almost set down her cup of hot chocolate to reciprocate.
Pounding hooves on the graveled front drive alerted the dread lingering in Ivy’s stomach to snap to attention. She should have known Darien would not be able to control himself at the hunt. How could she ever think they could have a future together?
Darien swung open the front door and sprinted past the sitting room and into the kitchen. Dark blood, almost black, stained his shirt and hunting jacket. My God, it wasn’t even dry.
“Arianna must come with me.”
Arianna hugged Melody too tightly and she screamed in protest. Even though she no longer suffered from colic or needed her tincture of laudanum, she had learned to make her displeasure known immediately and loudly.
“I’m not going back. I can’t. I shall leave here on my own, but I will not return to Westhaven.”
Melody gave a kick in protest, forcing Arianna to jerk back her chin or be hit.
Ivy scooped Melody into her arms on her way to Darien. His face was bruised and swollen, but he appeared fairly hearty.
“Whose blood is that?” Ivy said softly.
“Robert’s been shot. He wants Miss Maddox to do whatever it is he thinks she does. He mentioned anatomy.”
“I’ve never done surgery on a live man before.”
“He won’t be for long. Hurry.”
Arianna glanced at Ivy in wide-eyed shock, but quickly sprung into motion to chase Darien’s retreating form.
“What happened?” Ivy followed, clutching Melody.
Darien swung onto his mount and offered his hand to Arianna. She gathered the skirts of Ivy’s too large borrowed dress and managed to settle in the saddle behind him.
“Someone started shooting at us from the clearing. Robert was hit. Stay in the house until I return.” Darien hardly spared Ivy a parting glance.
“Why would anyone want to shoot Robert?”
“I think he was hit by accident. They were aiming for me.” He nudged the horse with his heels too hard, sending the stallion up on its hind legs. Arianna gripped Darien’s waist tighter. They rode off in a mad gallop in the direction of Westhaven’s estate.
There are those that will slander us, condemn us in the most brutal terms.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Ivy turned at the click of the kitchen’s back door. The fluttering dread in her heart took shape, turning to solid stone in her stomach. Darien would not be back so soon unless the worst had happened. Robert was dead. Melody sat in a basin of soapy water and gave a little kick, forcing Ivy to return her full attention to her slippery infant.
“Now I understand.”
Ivy startled at the unfamiliar voice. Henry Maddox stood in the heated kitchen. Ivy had locked the front door, but had fetched wood from the back to warm the kitchen for Melody’s bath.
“Excuse me, but I did not hear your knock.” Ivy hoped to shame him into leaving immediately. Melody beat her hands against the water, obviously charmed with the splash.
“So which of your disreputable companions loaned you their illegitimate brat? I’m sure there are loads of unclaimed bastards lying about.” He strolled to the table’s edge to examine Melody.
Ivy whisked her from the water, heedless of the soap that still clung to her fine hair, wrapped her protectively in a towel and pressed her to her breast.
“A girl. A future whore in the making. I’m sure the mother was quick to dump her.” Ivy took a step back from Maddox, whose false smile was unnerving. “You know you needn’t go to such lengths to dupe Blackmore. He’s not too clever.”
“This is a private residence and I insist that you leave.”
“I’d call it a hovel, but I suppose an aging courtesan can’t be too particular, can she? You must be desperate to return to Blackmore after all these years.”
“My relationship with Darien is none of your affair.” Ivy kept Melody covered from Maddox’s curious gaze. She glanced toward the back door, but where would she run with a drenched child in her arms?
“You two have made it my affair with your little prank last night. I might have applauded you if Arianna had returned at a decent hour.”
“Arianna is not here.” Melody wiggled from Ivy’s tight embrace, soaking the front of her gown. “If that is all?”
“I find it so charming that you two lovebirds are living like beggars on the edge of Westhaven’s estate.” He strolled through the humble kitchen, examining it as he would a display at a museum. “How appropriate to see the dregs living off the scraps of their betters.”
Ivy stood her ground, keeping silent, not turning her back on Henry Maddox. She thought to grab a knife from the kitchen counter, but feared doing anything to endanger Melody. Surely he would not physically harm either of them. All the same, Ivy steeled herself against trembling.
“I only hope my daughter heeded your cautionary tale during her short visit. This is no way for a lady of quality to end her days. But I think it’s a rather fortunate turn of events for you, is it not? You would not want your ploy to win Blackmore back ruined by ugly rumors.”
“I think I have weathered my share of those.”
“Oh, the damage I am capable of has not even begun to be unfurled. Infamy is so easy to inflame once it’s caught on. And you have made things so easy for me with your extravagant tastes.” Henry glanced around the room and laughed. ”How the mighty have fallen.”
“You started the rumor that I broke my engagement to Darien to become his father’s mistress.” Ivy nodded. At least she now knew humanity in general was not completely twisted, just Henry Maddox in particular. She should have realized someone with something to gain had first painted her with the brush of a harlot. “Well done.”
Maddox obviously wanted the recognition. Let him gloat and then maybe he would just leave. Protecting Melody was her only interest.
“I had to make sure that love-sick fool did not try and rekindle his torch. But Blackmore has proved a disaster in any event. Things would have been so much simpler for everyone if he had married my oldest daughter as was agreed upon.”
“Darien never agreed to anything.”
“But you did, didn’t you? And my little fib was not far from the truth. I don’t suppose the duke paid you so handsomely for so many years unless you were gifted with a talent for the profession.” He eyed Ivy in an insulting manner.
“If you have finished chronicling my illustrious career, you must excuse me. One of my illegitimate brood needs a nappy.” Lord help her, but she squeezed Melody, praying for a long wail, receiving nothing but a happy grunt. Ivy strode to the kitchen door intending to climb the narrow steps and lock the bedroom door. Surely then he would leave.
She tensed as she passed him, but he made no move to stop her.
“You are awfully fond of the brat. Whose is it?”
“The Prince of Wales. He and his latest mistress had a bit of a tiff and he needed a fill in.”
“I’m speaking of the child’s mother. Or was Dr. Ferguson mistaken in his diagnosis?”
Ivy stopped on the third step and turned to face Henry
, peering at him through the rails of the nearly enclosed staircase.
“You are acquainted with my physician? I did not realize you were experiencing female complications, Henry.”
“Dr. Ferguson is taken with the luxurious lives of his exclusive London patients. Unfortunately, they dismiss him when his news is bad. He does not feel remiss in sharing his diagnosis with someone who is more appreciative of the information.”
“I did not dismiss the good doctor.” Ivy tried to remember the last time she had been visited by Dr. Ferguson. Recently enough for him to confirm that she had not given birth to Melody.
“Which makes him even more valuable to me. But the proof was in your lack of product with the very virile Duke of Huntingdon. He has an illegitimate son he spawned in his teens. Or didn’t you know?”
“I would be very careful in defaming the Duke of Huntingdon. He remains one of the most powerful men in all of Britain. Or didn’t you know?” Ivy chilled that Maddox had discovered Lucas. She must warn Marcus that his most closely held secret had been compromised. Indeed, Marcus could likely frighten off the likes of Maddox, but what could Ivy do to save herself and her daughter from cruel speculation? They were easy prey.
“And you are as fit and trim as a girl. No wonder Darien is so smitten. Does he know you are barren?”
She clutched Melody to her chest. If she ran upstairs and slammed the door, Maddox would know he came entirely too close to the truth.
Maddox smiled as if he had just bagged a stag. “You seem so fond of the child. I sense there is a fascinating tale behind her history and how she came to be with you?”
“She’s my daughter. Dr. Ferguson no doubt took your bribe because he is a charlatan.”
“Perhaps.” Maddox nodded. “Or perhaps not. But do not worry. I shall find out. I hope I am correct, and that you are infertile, because then I shall not insist that you leave your besotted suitor. I cannot risk Blackmore deciding to actually marry you and you bearing a son. Of course, I would insist it was another’s and start rumors, so any said offspring would be tormented the entirety of his short life.”