"Oh, have done!" Edwina said in muffled tones. She had found a dainty, lace-edged handkerchief and was holding it against her bleeding nose. Looking at Yates, she demanded fretfully, "What are we going to do now? We can't let him go, and if they are both dead, then there is no way for me to inherit any fortune at all."
"Ah, is that the point of all this?" Patrick asked with great interest. "Inheriting a fortune?"
Edwina cast him a glance, wondering how she had ever found him charming. "Yes," she said, "it is—and you have ruined it all." She looked at Yates again. "Well? What are we going to do?"
Yates looked thoughtful. "The first thing that needs to be done is for you to lock that damned door. I don't want anyone else strolling in."
Keeping an eye on Patrick, Edwina sidled out from behind the desk and locked the door, returning quickly to her previous position.
Yates nodded approvingly, and said, "This may work out for us, after all. I don't suppose that your sister has made a new will—not with her just being married and all. And if the new husband is not around to contest the will, you should inherit what you would have if your sister had not married." He cocked an eyebrow in Patrick's direction. "Am I right?"
Patrick shrugged. "I am not a legal scholar." He rubbed his walking stick lightly along his jaw. "I do think you are forgetting something... I did not come alone."
Yates snickered. "Very good, sir. I do admire a man with pluck and verve, but I'm afraid I'm too long in the tooth to be taken in by that bit of nonsense."
"Oh, Patrick! I am so sorry to have involved you in this," Thea cried, her distress obvious. "It is all a terrible tangle. Edwina killed Hirst! She admitted it. She and Ellsworth were lovers, and they hired this fellow Yates to hide the body."
Patrick looked over at Edwina. "An enterprising young lady, to be sure. Modesty said that you looked out for yourself."
"And you," Edwina snapped from around her handkerchief, "should have been looking out for yourself!"
"To be sure," Patrick replied equitably, "but since that also involves looking out for the woman I love, I'm sure you can understand my reluctance to stand by and allow her to fall into your tender clutches." He glanced at Thea, his gray eyes intent. "She has held up rather well, don't you think? Why, I would have thought that finding out her sister is a murderess and being confronted by a bully like Yates would have sent her off in a swoon."
"Not Thea!" Edwina muttered. "She is too strong-minded for that sort of silliness."
"No doubt you are right, but it certainly would have been convenient," Patrick murmured, his eyes boring into Thea's.
Thea suddenly smiled, her gaze misty-eyed as she stared back at him. "Oh, I do love you, Patrick Blackburne—no matter what happens. You are such a clever fellow."
Patrick bowed. "Thank you, my dear, I treasure your opinion."
Yates laughed, and began, "If he is such a clever fellow—what the devil!"
Only a second before Yates had been holding a slim, firm body against his own; the next he was grappling with a form that seemed to have turned boneless as Thea swooned and went limp in his grasp. It was all the distraction that Patrick needed.
In a flash, the ebony-and-ivory walking stick revealed the small sword hidden within, and, with a flick of the wrist, Patrick brought it smartly across the hand in which Yates held the pistol.
A howl of pain burst from Yates as the pistol went spinning and Thea, magically recovering, grabbed his other wrist and bit down with all the fervor of a bulldog upon a bone. Before Yates had time to blink, Thea was out of his arms and standing next to her husband; Patrick's sword was pressed against his throat.
His breathing hardly disturbed, Patrick said in a deadly soft tone, "I am rather clever, don't you agree?"
"But not quite as clever as you think," Edwina replied.
Not moving his sword, Patrick glanced in her direction. Her face tight and grim, Edwina stood behind the desk, a small, dainty pistol leveled at Thea's heart.
"That does even the odds a bit," Patrick admitted. "We seem to have come to a standstill. I propose a bargain; you let us go, and we shall pretend that this morning never happened."
Edwina gave an ugly laugh. "Oh, you would leave me to Yates's tender mercies?" Her eyes narrowed. "I think not!"
Before anyone guessed her intention, she swung the pistol away from Thea and coolly shot Yates. The explosion of pistol fire was stunningly loud in the room, gray smoke and the scent of black powder filling the small space.
Yates, shot neatly through the temple, dropped to the floor without a sound.
"I never did like him," Edwina confessed. "Everything is all his fault. He deserved to die."
Patrick shoved Thea behind him and, sword held loosely at his side, considered his next move. Edwina had just demonstrated that she was no stranger to firearms and he didn't think that he wanted another demonstration—not when either he or Thea was the target.
There was a furious pounding at the door, and Nigel's voice was heard. "Patrick, for God's sake, open the bloody door! What the devil is going on in there?"
His voice level, Patrick said to Edwina, "The bargain still stands. Let Thea and me go, and we will forget what has happened. Your husband's body has been found. John Hazlett was on his way here to tell you when he spied Thea coming into the house. He is with Lord Embry in the hall—they came with me. Modesty knows that we are here, too. You have only one shot left in your pistol. You cannot kill us all. It is finished." Gently, he added, "The game is lost. You cannot win. Give me the pistol."
Edwina's face showed that she realized that there was no way out except the one that Patrick offered. She would have her life, but little else. The family would close ranks behind her, but they would know what she had done. Her fortune was gone. Her lover was dead. She would never again be able to turn to Thea for help. Her life was ruined. She had, she realized, nothing to live for. Nothing at all. The long, bleak years of being the poor pitied relation stretched out unending before her.
"Edwina, Patrick is right," Thea said quietly. "It is over. You have failed. Give him the pistol and let this end here and now."
"Never!" Edwina cried, and, before their horrified gaze, she aimed the pistol at her own head and pulled the trigger.
Chapter 20
It was a lovely evening in April. A full, silver moon was high in the sky, and Thea and Patrick had just finished dining al fresco in the charming gardens at Halsted House. Modesty, who had come to stay with them in late February, was dining this night with Lord and Lady Garrett at Garrett Manor.
The terrible and horrifying events of that Monday in late September seemed very far away, as indeed they were, since nearly seven months had passed since that fateful day. Thea was still haunted by Edwina's death. There was nothing she could have done to have prevented Edwina from taking her own life, but she fretted for months afterward, wondering how much she was to blame for the tragedy.
"If only I had not catered to her so much," she had said more than once. "Perhaps if I had listened to Modesty and the rest of the family and been sterner with her, she would not have taken the path she did."
Patrick would take her into his arms, and cradling her next to him, he would murmur, "What happened was not your fault. You cannot blame yourself for what Edwina did. It is useless to speculate on the type of person she would have been if you had treated her differently. Hold on to the thought that you did the best that you could. Remember, Edwina made her own choices—as in the case of her husband, you counseled against it, but she ignored you and married the man of her choice. There is nothing that you could have done."
When Thea would have protested, he kissed her, and said against her lips, "You know that I am right, sweetheart. She made the choices—even the one to kill herself." He smiled down into her face. "The only thing you can blame yourself for is having a generous and loving heart—not a particularly terrible thing to possess."
Defeated, Thea laid her head against his breast and for
a while was comforted. And as the weeks and months passed her bouts of guilt gradually lessened, until these days she rarely pined or mentioned Edwina's name.
Of course an appalling scandal erupted when the bodies were found, which the family, closing ranks as they had a decade ago, did its best to temper. Edwina had hardly fallen dead to the floor behind the desk before Patrick whisked Thea back to Hamilton Place, where Modesty was waiting anxiously. Having left Nigel and Hazlett to stand guard over the bodies, Patrick swiftly returned once he had seen that Thea was safely in Modesty's keeping.
The three gentlemen decided that the most expeditious way to handle the affair was not to handle it at all. No one except they and the loyal coachmen who delivered them to her door knew of Thea's presence in the house, and no one was going to make that fact public. Their own presence would have been difficult to explain away, but they were confident that their first assault on the Hirsts' front door had not been noticed, despite the racket Patrick raised. Their actual entrance into the house, through the same door that Yates had used, had been in a most clandestine manner. Just as Thea's presence had not been noted, it was unlikely that theirs had been either.
After a tense, hasty discussion, they agreed that the best thing to do was to get the hell out of the house before they were discovered standing in a room with two very dead bodies. Since the bodies told their own tale, they would leave them as they were—to be discovered at dusk by John Hazlett, when he ostensibly arrived for the first time to tell Edwina of her husband's murder.
All went as planned. Hazlett rounded up a member of the watch to help him break into the house when his frantic pounding on his cousin's door roused no one. Together he and the Watch discovered the ghastly contents in the small room at the rear of the house.
The family tried to keep the circumstances of Edwina's death a secret, but it was impossible. The fact that she killed herself and, it was believed, her lover, the notorious Yates, was enough to cause a nine days' wonder amongst the ton. Hirst's murder only added fuel to the rampant gossip and speculation. Patrick's and Thea's sudden wedding was forgotten and all anyone could talk of that fall were the shocking deaths of the Hirsts and that Yates fellow.
As agreed, Patrick and Thea left for Halsted that very afternoon—before Edwina's body was discovered. His jaw tight, Patrick said to Nigel, "I want Thea well out of it and the only way I can assure that she is, is to get her out of London—immediately. No one will think it strange—we planned to leave for the country tomorrow anyway. As far as anyone is concerned, we decided to leave earlier than expected. She can hear the news of her sister's death at Halsted as easily as she can here. At Halsted we can be sequestered and not intruded upon. She has enough to deal with, and I'll not have her subjected to avid stares and spurious gossip."
Thea didn't argue; she was numb and horrified by what happened and she'd been as obedient as she was ever likely to be, not offering one objection to Patrick's plans. Like a small, delicate doll she sat frozen in the sheltering curve of his arm as their coach bumped and swayed its way out of London and into the fading daylight, her thoughts dark and painful.
They would probably never know exactly all the facts surrounding what happened. Whether it had been Yates who first broached the idea of obtaining Thea's fortune or whether it was Edwina who put the notion forth would always be open to question. Modesty, who'd had no illusions about Edwina, rather thought that while Edwina might have wanted Thea's fortune, she never would have acted on that impulse without encouragement from Yates. Patrick was of a different mind; after all, he'd seen Edwina shoot a man down in cold blood.
Between themselves, Thea and Patrick discussed Ellsworth's return to the Curzon Street house the night after the murder.
"We know now that it was to get your mother's letters, but why didn't he take them with him the night of Hirst's murder? Why leave them there in the first place?" Thea once asked Patrick.
Patrick grimaced. "He probably didn't want Yates, or Edwina for that matter, to know where they were. With everything that was going on the night of the murder, I would guess that he was so panic-stricken, he never gave them a thought. Certainly with Yates and Edwina prowling about the house, there would have been no chance to retrieve them, so he simply waited until the next night."
But it had all happened months ago, and while they speculated and surmised the subject to death in the beginning, just as Thea no longer went around with that heartrending haunted expression, the topic was no longer of much interest to any of them. Especially not on this pleasant evening in April, the full moon a mysterious, silver orb in a star-scattered black-velvet sky and the scent of early roses perfuming the air.
His arm around her waist, Patrick and Thea strolled down the wide garden path that wended its way through the moonlit gardens. Deeply in love, looking forward to the future he and Thea would share, Patrick was a happy and contented man. He couldn't imagine a life without Thea, a day without looking into the lovely expressive eyes of hers or a night without her slim, warm body lying next to his. And while he would have preferred for Thea never to have been in danger and for events not to have ended so tragically, he would never be sorry that they had met under such unpleasant circumstances. Without the blackmail attempt on his mother and Hirst's attempt to solicit money from Thea, their paths would not have entwined so dramatically and he would not this evening be walking beside the only woman in the world for him. A woman whose gently rounded stomach told of the new life they had created together. The baby would be born in October, and they were thrilled at the prospect.
Thinking of that, he dropped a kiss on her dark head.
Thea glanced up at him and sent him that dazzling smile that made him breathless. "What was that for?" she asked.
"Because I love you," he replied, his gray eyes warm and full of love. His hand dropped to her slightly protruding belly. Caressing her stomach, he admitted, "And the babe, too." He grinned. "At the moment, I am so in love with you that there is nothing that I would not grant you."
She giggled. "That must be true—not many new husbands would be happy to have Modesty part of their household." Sobering, she asked, "You really don't mind her living with us?"
Patrick shook his head. "No. Halsted is a large house and as long as I can have my wicked way with you whenever I want, you may invite half of London to live with us if it gives you pleasure."
"Do you think Modesty will like Natchez? I was bowled over when you suggested she sail with us next month and she agreed to do so. I was certain she would want to stay with me until after the baby is born, but I was astonished that she accepted your offer of a permanent home with us." Thea frowned. "She has never liked the quiet of the country—which was one of the reasons why I bought the London town house. I worry that she will become bored and restless."
"The important question, my love, is whether you think that you will like Natchez?"
Thea's face lit up. "Oh, I shall! I just know it. I am looking forward to seeing your home and meeting your friends and neighbors. It shall be such an adventure."
Patrick's eyes danced. "Being married to you is adventure enough for me!"
"Unkind, sir!" She glanced down to where their child grew. "Do you hear that, Tom? Your father thinks that we are far too exciting for him."
"Oh, exciting is definitely a word I would use to describe you," he drawled. "And lovely, and charming... headstrong comes to mind, as well as, infuriating and terrifying." When Thea opened her mouth to protest, he kissed her, and added, "And most important of all—absolutely adorable!"
What could she do, but return his very agreeable sentiments? Arms twined, her head half-resting against his broad shoulder, Thea and Patrick turned and walked slowly toward the house. And high in the heavens, with its silvery light, the moon, as constant and enduring as their love, showed them the way home.
The End
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WHILE PASSION SLEEPS
The Reluctant Brides Series
Book Three
~
Not giving her a chance to accept or refuse him, he reached for Elizabeth and swept her out onto the ballroom floor. Stunned and breathless, for several turns around the room Elizabeth kept her eyes pinned to the diamond stickpin that rested in the pristine folds of his cravat. She was aware of the warm hand at her waist, the warm hand that was surely tighter than need be, and the fact that he was holding her closer than custom; she wished she possessed the courage to reprimand him for the liberties he was taking. As the moments passed, she became more and more conscious of him—of the faint odor of brandy and tobacco that emanated from him, of the sleek muscles in the powerful body that propelled her around the room, and most of all just of him. She could feel his breath gently stirring the curls on her head and the firmness and heat of the hand that held hers; the emotions stirring in her blood made her slightly giddy.
"Are we to dance in total silence, querida?" he finally asked. "I admire your silken hair a great deal, but I would much rather admire your eyes... and mouth."
She glanced up and once again was lost in those empty gray eyes, only they weren't empty now—some undefinable emotion flickered in their depths. Elizabeth tore her gaze away, her heart thudding with thick, painful strokes. "Don't look at me that way," she begged. "It isn't polite."
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