by Jaimey Grant
The maid gratefully ceased groping under the mattress and joined her mistress. “Yes, my lady?”
“Kneel down so I can stand on you.”
“What?”
Aurora released an exasperated breath and repeated, “Kneel down so I can stand on you. I cannot reach the top shelf and I want to search there.”
The maid knelt down, grumbling about unfair treatment of servants, and Aurora gingerly stepped up using the bottom shelf for support. She still wasn’t high enough to see what was up there but she could feel around with her hand. At first, she was reluctant. Who knew what kind of atrocities she might inadvertently encounter? But she screwed her courage to the sticking point and reached up.
“Hallelujah!” she yelled as her hand closed over what could only be a large knife.
“I would not be celebrating so soon, were I you,” remarked Desmond Forester.
“Damn,” muttered the much beleaguered Aurora. She stepped down slowly, carefully releasing the weapon. Mary rose to her feet, whimpering in fright.
“Now, ladies, be so kind as to step over to the bed,” commanded the madman with the pistol.
“I hate you,” murmured Aurora quite audibly. She was rewarded with a blaze of anger before his face once again became a bland mask.
He shrugged once, the gun never wavering. “I care not for your good opinion, Lady Greville.”
Aurora glared at him. “Why are you doing this? You will get none of my money and you obviously don’t have Rhiannon. What is your goal?”
“To kill you, of course.”
Although her facial expression did not change in the least, Aurora felt like she couldn’t breathe. Why had that particular outcome not occurred to her? He was obviously quite mad and hated her for thwarting him on more than one occasion already.
“And I do believe your husband should suffer,” he added conversationally. He moved closer to them, a smile of complacency stretched across features that Aurora had once considered extremely handsome.
“He will kill you,” replied Lady Greville in matching tones. She had to keep him talking.
Dimly, without, they all heard the sound of galloping hooves. Desmond Forester smiled hugely, remarking as he did so, “And that, dear lady, will be your darling husband, come to rescue his fair damsel.” He grimaced. “Sounds like a cheap Minerva Press novel, does it not?”
Aurora stared at him in confusion, then dawning realization. “You lured him here.”
“But, of course. I want to watch him as he watches you die, slowly.”
“You are mad.”
He appeared to consider this for a moment. “Not really. A trifle perturbed, maybe, but mad?” He shook his head.
Aurora had to stop a hysterical giggle from escaping at this absurdity. She opened her mouth to deliver a scathing setdown but was forestalled by a quiet yet deadly voice from the now open door.
“You will release the ladies, Forester. I grow weary of this game.”
She noticed Forester was already facing the door, pointing his gun at the heart of the Duke of Derringer. Just how did the man know when she was in trouble? Was he clairvoyant?
The duke leaned against the doorpost with apparent ease. He didn’t appear worried in the least, yet Aurora knew he must be in severe pain. His injuries, while mostly healed during his long convalescence, would still be sore enough to cause him great discomfort. He seemed quite comfortable where he stood. He was even smiling. It was that smile of his that promised retribution for daring to interfere in his life. She shivered involuntarily.
Derringer caught her eye. She relaxed at the look of confidence and reassurance she saw there. His gaze shifted back to her nemesis.
Becoming aware of a movement near the window on the far side of the room, she saw Derringer move to stand between Forester and herself. She realized he was maneuvering Forester so his back was to the window.
“Do you want to kill me, Forester? How far do you think you can run before someone catches up with you for murdering a peer? I may not be well liked, but I am still a duke.” He paused, appearing to consider something that had not before occurred to him. “Although, if you rid the world of me, you might be knighted. I’ve been a thorn in the King’s side since the day I was born.” He grinned and crossed his arms negligently over his chest.
Forester stared at the duke with a blank expression. Aurora wondered what was happening behind the still mask. How did a madman’s mind actually work?
“The temptation to kill you outright is strong, Derringer. And I happen to know that the Regent would indeed be grateful for your permanent removal.”
“You are a coward, Forester,” taunted Derringer.
Forester flinched. Aurora’s surreptitious glance moved to the window where she saw someone easing it open. She prayed it was her husband but she couldn’t be sure. Something in Forester’s face warned that he was fast losing patience.
“I refuse to trade insults with you, your grace. I will shoot you when your demise is necessary. Meanwhile, if the three of you would be so kind as to sit down there, we will wait for the arrival of Lord Greville, my lady.”
Derringer stubbornly refused to sit. Aurora would have smiled if she weren’t so suddenly sure that Desmond Forester was insane enough to murder a peer in cold blood.
“Desmond, why did you refuse to marry me?” she asked to distract his attention from the stubborn duke. “You could have had my wealth and me and none of this would have been necessary.”
“Do you truly believe that, my dear?” He shrugged. “Perhaps you are right. But I did ask your father. He refused his consent.”
“He what?” Aurora was astounded. All this time, she had believed Desmond had not wanted her. “Why would he do that?”
A smug look crossed Forester’s face. “He felt I was only after your money. My own father threatened to send me to America if I came near you again. It took me a few years, but I finally got the courage to get rid of him.”
The duke snorted. “You murder your father and you call that courage? You, my bastard friend, are spineless.”
The ominous click of the pistol being cocked seemed to echo through the room. Aurora silently willed Derringer to hold his tongue.
“I advise you to refrain from insulting me, Derringer. As you can see, I have the gun.”
The duke shrugged carelessly, smirking as if it were all talk. Then he spread his arms wide, in what one could only describe as an invitation to shoot.
Perhaps it was.
As Forester’s finger tightened on the trigger, Aurora asked, “How could you do such a thing? To your own father?”
“I assure you, it was far easier than the accident that removed your parents from my path.”
It was as though she’d been punched, stealing her breath and making her choke. The duke saw and moved to help her but Aurora firmly waved him back. Within moments, she was back in control, the only indication of her distress in the tightening around her mouth.
“You killed them.”
The window was open and Aurora could see a gun barrel pointed at Desmond, then Levi’s face as he silently climbed through.
The contempt that the duke directed at Forester was almost tangible. “You are demented.”
The sudden blast took everyone by surprise. Aurora screamed, Mary fainted, Derringer fell to his knees, and the look of sadistic satisfaction on Forester’s face was frightening to behold. His look turned to shock when the butt of Levi’s pistol connected with his head, knocking him out cold.
“Lord, I wanted to shoot him,” muttered the earl.
“Why didn’t you?” Aurora felt compelled to ask.
Levi stepped over Forester and took her in his arms. “Do you think me so insensitive as to kill a man when my wife is in the room?” He kissed her quickly, too quickly, and moved away to kneel beside his fallen friend.
“Hart, you stupid clunch!” He shook him roughly. The duke stirred, his black eyes opened, and he smiled through what must be a
n unconscionable amount of pain.
“Vi, I should call you out for that,” he muttered thickly. “Hell and the devil! That bastard actually shot me.”
Aurora smiled at his disbelief and knelt down, heedless of the dust and dirt that covered the cottage floor. “What did you expect when you taunted him so mercilessly?”
Derringer removed his hand from where he clutched his shoulder. Levi pulled a knife from the duke’s boot and sliced open the blood-soaked shirt. He checked the wound over carefully. “Flesh wound. Nothing serious, thank God.”
The duke groaned. “At least you knocked him out before he could finish me off with the other gun.”
Aurora and her husband shared a look, neither one having noticed a second pistol. Glancing back at the villain of the piece, they saw he was still unconscious, the spent weapon lying at his side. There was no sign of another one.
Shifting the slightest bit, Derringer added, “I knew I should have left. I could be in France right now without a bullet.”
“Why did you stay?” the earl asked, pressing his handkerchief into the duke’s shoulder.
The wounded man shifted his shoulder a bit as if to shrug, then scowled at his inability. “My damnable conscience, if you must know,” he admitted through clenched teeth. “I couldn’t leave without making sure Forester was taken care of.”
The duke’s expression twisted. A fresh torrent of blood poured from the wound and Levi pressed his handkerchief harder into it to stem the flow. Aurora tried to conceal her horror but she was unable to stop a sharply indrawn breath. She swiftly tore away a long strip of her undergarment, handing it to the earl. She then rose to see to her maid, who had remained unconscious throughout all of the excitement.
It was when she was about to kneel down to lift Mary that she saw the unmistakable glint of metal out of the corner of her eye. With no more warning than a strangled scream, she threw herself between the firearm and her husband.
*
Epilogue
Cornwall
Several months later
“Rory love, you make it impossible to rescue you. When I try, you insist on being the hero by rescuing yourself. Well, heroine, anyway.”
“I hardly needed rescuing, Levi. I was tackled by a child of four. I can safely extricate myself from that, I think.”
“But such a very large child of four, my love.”
The shouts of several children and a few adults made Lord and Lady Greville smile at each other and rejoin the game of cricket. Aurora helped little Callie Prestwich over to her mother and father and decided to sit down as well. Her side still pained her sometimes even though it had been eight months since her accident.
She smiled to herself. Accident wasn’t quite accurate considering she had thrown herself in the path of a bullet, knowing full well what it would do to her. That it hadn’t killed her had been a miracle no one was willing to question.
Lord Connor Northwicke approached her with a concerned smile. “Rory, does your injury still pain you?”
“Only when I so far forget myself to indulge in games, doctor.” She laughed when he just shook his head. “Truly, it is the very slightest twinge, nothing with which to concern yourself.”
“Far be it from me to contradict a lady,” he murmured politely.
Levi joined them and placed an arm around her waist. “Everything all right?”
“Yes, of course. Con was merely inquiring after me. He is such an attentive doctor, you know.”
“Thank God,” said the earl. “Otherwise we would have lost you and Hart.”
“Have you seen Derringer lately?” asked Lord Connor.
Levi shook his head. “The nodcock disappeared as soon as he was able to walk. Rumor has him in America, of all places. I don’t know where he went but he certainly didn’t return to Derringer Crescent.”
An angry cry from the playing field alerted the little group. They saw Verena rush over to her twins to sort out a misunderstanding. Adam stood apart, laughing at something his daughter was doing while Bri tried to make her little ten-month-old Jessamyn talk to entertain the Duke of Denbigh’s twin daughters.
Aurora sighed with supreme contentment. For a time, she had wondered if she would ever again be part of such bucolic splendor.
A few months after she’d been shot, Levi had informed Aurora of the involuntary departure of Desmond Forester. He’d been taken to the docks and loaded aboard a ship bound for America. Levi himself had seen him off.
Aurora knew her husband had hoped the man would expire on the journey. They had received word from Derringer, however, assuring them of the contrary. Aurora was not sure how she felt about that. All she could do was pray he’d changed.
Then there was the news they’d received of the Millers.
Mr. Miller had died mysteriously, his body discovered in the rookeries. No one knew how he got there but Aurora was aware of her husband’s suspicions. It was not wise to cross the Duke of Derringer.
Mrs. Miller married an American clergyman, traveled home with him and, according to the duke, was making quite a life for herself converting the “savages” to Christianity. Aurora could only assume the woman was trying to make amends for her actions. She wished her well.
Her real concern was Lord Derringer. He disappeared soon after he was shot, never bothering to allow his injuries to properly heal. Aurora thought she would always worry over the bothersome man and could only hope the feeling would abate somewhat with time.
Levi squeezed her gently, looking down at her with a questioning smile on his face. Connor had moved off to help his wife, leaving the Grevilles relatively alone for the moment.
Aurora stared at her daughter where she played with Callie, leaving her husband’s silent question unanswered. Her gaze shifted to Connor and Verena’s three little ones and then to Bri’s little Jess. She could not prevent the secret smile that spread across her features. Placing her hand over her stomach, she closed her eyes.
“Vi?”
“My love?”
“Would you be averse to a very great change within the next…oh, seven months or so?”
The earl stared at her in stunned disbelief for all of five seconds while her smile grew wider. He opened his mouth but said nothing. Then, with a whoop of delight, Lord Greville lifted his wife and swung her around.
The End
Visit http://regencydeception.blogspot.com to learn about the characters, history, and inspiration behind Deception.
*
About the Author
Jaimey Grant, a pseudonym for Laura Miller, was born in Michigan in 1979. After a fun-filled childhood interlaced with moments of emotional trauma and an insatiable curiosity about the reasons people act the way they do, she became a writer.
Already published works include Betrayal (the story of Adam and Bri), Spellbound, Heartless (the Duke of Derringer’s story), and Redemption. Upcoming works include Honor (the story of Connor and Verena), Intrigue (the Earl of Holt’s story) and two short stories in a young adult anthology called Unlocked.
She currently lives in Michigan with her husband and two children. There are more Regency romances in the works as well as some fantasy novels.
To read more about Jaimey and her work, visit any of the links below.
Website: http://www.jaimeygrant.com
Blog: http://jaimeygrant.blogspot.com
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/jaimeygrantauthor
Email: [email protected]
This book is available in print at http://www.TreasureLineBooks.com
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