Will settled himself in the bed more comfortably, still clinging to his wife's hand. She appeared to be sleeping peacefully, her face more lovely than ever in his eyes.
"Where are our troops now?" Vevina asked quietly.
"Quartered throughout the south in twos and threes."
She shot him a furious look. "Did you not tell them what will happen to Ardmore and all of the surrounding countryside while they're mustering those troops? And did you not think to warn me and Stewart before our children were slaughtered?"
"We'll get word of the plot long before then. We have a man on the inside," he reassured her.
She shook her head. "What if they discover he's a spy? Or word doesn't get here in time?"
"You've trusted him with your life before."
"Oh, no. Not Vincent?" she said with a sigh.
"No," he admitted. "Andre Olivier."
"But he helped clean out that nest of spies who tried to kill Wellington at the masked ball two years ago. Not to mention all of the service he has seen since. They'll know who he is for sure!" Vevina argued, before getting to her feet to pace in front of the window.
"We also have another couple of agents they don't know about."
"From whom?"
"Jason."
Vevina shook her head. "He's dead! You told me so yourself. You were commander at Cuidad Roderigo for long enough to try to liaise with him on the spy ring. We were at Badajoz waiting for him for some time, until we pushed on to Salamanca, but he never re-appeared."
"He's not dead."
"That's not possible. His home, his family, the dead body—"
"Badly decomposed, but not his."
"Then why has no one heard from him in so long?"
"He was injured, in a coma like Elizabeth. He came out of last year, but didn't know who he was until just recently."
"How can you be so sure that he's telling you the truth?"
"Because he happens to be a friend of Thomas's."
"They know each other?" she asked, open-mouthed.
"He just married one of their other friend's sisters. He was injured and blind, with no memory. Thanks to her he's recovering nicely, and is back in the saddle, discreetly, of course. He's carefully trying to see who's left of the network."
She shook her head. "What about their network? Samuel's? They're still out there. Our remaining enemies could all still be after us and eager to take over Joyce Hall."
Will smiled tightly. "I'm counting on it."
Chapter Twenty-seven
"You WANT your enemies to come after you?" Vevina repeated in disbelief. "Damn it, Will, have you got some sort of yearning for death?"
"No," he said, shaking his head, before rising from the edge of the bed to stand over by the window with her. "But it needs to be over. We all need to be free of the past."
"But think of the risk you're taking. If this is about Rosaria, let it go! Before you lose everything."
"It's because I gained everything with Elizabeth that I have to end this now, Sister, don't you see?"
She sighed raggedly. "All right, I'll help you. But you have to promise me you won't do anything rash with those muskets!"
"I can't promise. I need to think-"
"There's nothing to think about!" she insisted, stepping away from him to pace up and down with her arms folded across her chest. "I have four children to consider you're your niece and nephews. Not to mention all the people here at Ardmore who have been so kind. I don't want civil war in my lifetime, Will. Look at what happened the last time we had one here on Irish soil. The animosity persists to this day. Not to mention what happened in France. You fought to protect, not to oppress. For liberty, not for still more tyranny.
"Please, Will, there's no shame in killing to preserve, to save lives. But if you commit treason, you're little better than Bonaparte. It has to be democratic change in Ireland, or not at all."
"If we wait that long, it may be not at all."
"It's not up to us to decide," she said with an impatient wave of her hand. "You've always trusted Wellington in the past. If he gave you the orders you've been following, surely you must know there's a good reason!"
She could see him wavering in his resolve then, and tried to press home her advantage. "I can understand why you don't want to invade France, but using the weapons to foment rebellion is not the way to save lives either."
"I know, but I feel like if I don't do something now, we may have to wait another hundred long bloody years until we finally win our freedom from England."
"What matter if it takes two hundred, so long as the cause is just."
Will sighed heavily. "That's the problem, Sister. After all I've seen, all I've done, I'm not even sure what is just any more."
Vevina gave up trying to argue with him on a rational level. Instead, she embraced her brother. Pressing her hand to his chest, she felt the flat gold necklet carefully concealed under his shirt and cravat.
He grabbed her wrist hard, but she kept her hand upon it.
"Don't try to hide it from me, Will, I saw it last night. You told me the sword on this represents conflict and justice. The rainbow perfect love. If you really believe that, then tell me where those muskets are, and let Stewart and Parks sort this out."
He sighed raggedly. "I wish I could."
"It's easily done. I'll go get Stewart and—"
"No!" Will shrieked, trying to block her way.
"Will, for pity's sake, what is it?" she gasped, looking up into his white face with blank incomprehension. "What is really going on here? What are you not telling me?"
He shook his head and sighed. "I hardly know myself sometimes."
"Try to put it into words then, my dear," she prompted softly.
He took a deep breath, and after letting it out slowly, spoke at last. "Ever since we've come back to Ireland, well, I don't need to tell you. You've felt it too. I wish I could explain it all. But I just don't have the words, and we really don't have the time. All I know for sure is that my instinct, my knowledge of the heart, if you would like to call it that, is warring with the knowledge in my head more fiercely than I ever thought possible."
He paused, and she nodded encouragement. "I understand, Will. Go on. Tell me. Tell me what your heart is telling you."
"That is isn't even a case of the war against Napoleon any more. That the fight is much greater than any of us can imagine. A fight of good versus evil, to the death, to preserve our home and those we love."
"Is that not all the more reason to give the weapons to our side?" she asked, stroking his shoulder.
"It would be, were it not for what my heart is telling me. If I don't give them up, we're all in danger. But if I do tell Stewart where they are, Parks will die."
Vevina's eyes widened. "What? What on earth--"
Will shook his head. "Don't ask me how I know, I just do. I've seen it as clearly as I see you right now."
Vevina gripped both his shoulders hard and shook him. "I don't believe that. We make our own fates. I've seen death, suffering and miracles. If Stewart hadn't found us and helped us--"
"It was meant to be. The wheel has to come full circle."
She shook her head. "I refuse to believe that God is moving us around like pieces on a chessboard. I'm surprised at you, Will. What kind of deity would make you shoot your own wife?"
"He didn't make me. I had a choice," he said quietly.
She gripped his hand hard. "Exactly. You did have a choice. You had a split second or two and you did what your heart told you was best. You acted on instinct, not out of evil or malice.
"When you saw she had been tricked by those French spies pretending to be partisans at San Sebastian, you did the only thing you could think of to save lives. And to make sure she didn't suffer."
"But I killed her!"
"You know what would have happened if you hadn't!"
"I took aim, and pulled the trigger—"
"Stop it, Will, just stop it!" she insist
ed, shaking him harder, appalled at the inner Hell he had been tormenting himself with ever since he had made that fateful choice.
"I did my duty, and shot her right through the heart. The heart that claimed it loved me," he said in a horrified whisper.
Vevina lost all patience then and shoved him backwards into a chair.
"If you want to torment yourself, Will, why not think about this instead. You know for a fact what would have happened to her if you hadn't pulled that trigger. They had captured Rosaria. They would have tortured and raped her until she gave them the information that they wanted, and then they would have killed her anyway, along with every other person she named in the partisans.
"Then they would have killed hundreds, if not thousands of other people with the secret weapons stash you and Parks put together in the hills nearby. You all knew what was at stake on that mission. You and Parks knew she could never be permitted the chance to betray us all under duress. Parks did what had to be done, or tried to.
"But he missed. It was a rainy day, Will. His powder was damp. It was just bad luck for all of you, Rosaria most of all. Parks missed. You could have handed your rifle to him. You didn't have to pull the trigger yourself."
Will threw his arms around her waist then and sobbed against her gown. "I had to. I had to be sure. Sure she wouldn't betray us all. Sure she wouldn't suffer."
"Of course. You were always the better shot."
"But one part of me was relieved she was dead. Marrying her was the worst mistake I ever made-"
"Sush. It doesn't matter now," she soothed, stroking his hair back from his forehead. "It's over."
"Except for explaining to Elizabeth."
"You should have done it before," Vevina said with a shake of her head.
They turned to look over at the woman on the bed, and found Elizabeth's eyes open. She was staring at Will with a new understanding in her eyes.
"It seems I might have already," Will sighed.
Elizabeth raised her arms, and Will rolled into the bed and held her close.
"We'll talk again later, Brother."
"Aye, but please, not one word to Stewart or Parky, at least not yet."
Vevina swallowed hard, but in the end, she nodded. "All right. I promise."
"You'll keep an eye on Parks? Keep him safe?"
"I'll do my best," Vevina reassured him. "Rest now. Both of you. And tell her the truth now, Will. Everything. Before it's too late."
Chapter Twenty-eight
Will dreaded having to tell his wife about his past and relive the horror yet again. He was steeling himself to do it for both their sakes, but in the end it was Elizabeth who spoke first. "I remember it all now, dearest," she said with a tear in her eye.
"Remember, my love?" he asked in surprise. "Remember what?"
"The wedding was so wonderful, I almost knew it could become a nightmare. I was so happy, and then, well, I overheard all the horrible things they were saying about you, Will, my love, and instead of confronting them or you, I ran like a little girl. But I was so frightened," she admitted in a ragged whisper.
"I wanted you so much and it seemed like a dream come true. A little voice inside my head wanted to believe you, trust to love, but, well, when I heard what seemed to be common knowledge amongst the wedding guests, well, I suppose in my heart that I believed you were too good to be true. I thought I'd been tricked like Jane. That you were some vile, lying seducer only out to get my fortune. Or worse.
"I tried to find you, to talk to you, tell you what they were saying, only to find Parks speaking to the rest of your friends about how you had shot your former wife. When I heard that, I truly panicked. I wanted to run back to Somerset and hide from the world."
"I don't blame you. But blast it all if it wasn't the worst piece of timing ever."
She nodded. "But it's my fault too. I was such a fool. I wasn't just running from you because of what I had overheard from Fitzsimmons and Parks. I think I was really running from myself, from the incredible desire, magic, whatever it is that happens to us whenever we're together. It's just so powerful, it sets propriety, reason, and commonsense completely at naught."
Will took her hand and kissed it gently. "Oh, Elizabeth, it's like that for me too."
She snuggled closer to him on the window seat. "I thought it was the cave that was magical. Now I know it's us. Inside of us. An eternal love we share. I look at you and I know in some other time and place we've loved and laughed and been happy. And I feel that Vevina has watched over both of us, and our children, like a guardian angel."
Will nodded. "I don't know how or why. All I know is that I feel sure we belong together, my love. Now and always."
"You brought me back from the brink of death. You had faith in our love when everyone else had given up hope."
"There's always hope. And it was the least I could do when you had given it back to me after so many desperate years at war."
She stroked his cheek tenderly. "I think I do have one clue about some of this."
He kissed her brow. "Oh?"
"You may have talked a great deal about my brother to me, but there's one thing he might not have mentioned. I was born here. My parents were visiting here, and I was very early. It was completely unexpected. So this is truly my home. I've come back at last. And here I shall stay, with you, my love. I've come full circle. I think we both have."
He stared down at her. "What about Joyce Hall? I wanted to—"
She shook her head. "It's only a house. A very old one. Dark. I want to be in the light."
"Whatever you want, love, you can have it."
She hugged him tightly to her. "I want you to tell me you love me, darling, and that you won't take any foolish risks."
"I won't," he vowed. "I love you too much to lose my chance of happiness with you now."
They kissed heatedly for a time, until Will pulled away. "You're not well enough yet."
"No, not yet, but soon."
"Is there anything else you need to know about me, darling, so that you can be sure of me, of us and our marriage?" he asked in a gentle tone.
She shook her head. "No. I don't think so. Except if you want to tell me about your father, and Rosaria."
He sighed heavily. "There's not much to tell. Pa's heart gave out during the so-called questioning. Torture, so it was. It was bad enough having them do it to me. Seeing it happen to another person, someone you care about?"
He shook his head. "God forgive me but I was tempted. I thought of every single person I had ever disliked and thought, why not tell them what they want to hear? Give them names. Anything to get them to stop what they were doing to--"
"Sush, it's all right," she soothed, embracing him tenderly. "You didn't give them any names. That's the main thing."
He sighed heavily. "But even worse than watching what they did to my poor father was the thought of what they were doing to Vevina."
"Did they?" she gasped, her eyes wide.
He patted her on the shoulder reassuringly. "No, thank the gods. Samuel wanted her in order to further his plot. He tried to consummate the marriage, but I escaped and helped her get free just in time."
"You're a very brave man, Will."
"I can't take all the credit, love. Francis Baines' father actually helped us get away. And then Francis killed Samuel before he could kill her."
Elizabeth looked up at her husband, a new light of understanding dawning in her eyes. "So you remembered all those past sufferings, and gave Parks the order to shoot your wife rather than allow her to be tortured and raped until she either named names or died horribly."
He nodded. "I did, may the gods forgive me. Parky's gun misfired. I had a clear shot. I took it. He blames himself for what happened that day, but his instincts were right. He knew what he had to do. He hesitated because he was my friend, but I gave him the order.
"When the gun misfired, I knew I had one last chance to avert disaster for us all, and I took it. I didn't even hesitate.
I wish in a way that I had. But it was my choice. And the thing is, I would make the decision all over again. What does that say about how much I loved my wife?" he asked in a ragged whisper.
She took both of his hands in her own and kissed them. "It says that you love your country and your friends more. And that yes, you did love her too, because you knew what they would do to her. After all she suffered, even if she had survived, well, she would have been even more insane that she already was, don't you think?"
The Rakehell Regency Romance Collection Volume 2 Page 55