“I was about to go up there,” Ramsey said. “Until I found the body. Scared the daylights out of me.”
“How do we reach the tower?”
Ramsey grunted. “Why should I tell you?”
Marcus raised the gun. “Because something unpleasant will happen to you if you don’t.”
“There’s a staircase on this floor, at the end of the passage.”
Marcus eyed the wedding gown and veil which was arranged on the bed. “Whose is this?”
“I planned to marry Elizabeth,” Ramsey said. “I’ve a preacher coming.”
Marcus stared at him. “What? Are you mad? Beth would never agree to it.”
“She wouldn’t have had much option. She’d be my baroness. She would have grown accustomed to it.”
“But for God’s sake, why?” He couldn’t believe Ramsey capable of anything as unselfish as pure love.
They walked the length of the passage before Ramsey answered. He opened a door to reveal a set of narrow timber stairs winding upward. He paused on the first step. “I don’t see that it’s any of your business. Why the devil are you here?”
“I’m making it my business.” Marcus prodded him hard between the shoulder blades to move him along. “I intend to return Beth to her family. But I shall deal with you first.”
“I have a damn good reason.” Ramsey’s voice rose a notch. “Harrow knows what it is. Ask him. Bloody dukes have such power.”
“And Harrow tends to use it wisely. Supposing your mad scheme succeeded. What were your intentions? To escape to the Continent with Beth? Your life wouldn’t be worth living in England.”
“She’s a spirited lass. But I would soon grow tired of her, I do quickly enough. Then she could go home again.”
“You really are deranged aren’t you.”
“Want her for yourself, eh, Nyeland?”
“You turn my stomach,” Marcus said. As they climbed the stairs, he steeled himself from the impulse to strike the man down. That would have to wait until Beth was found and brought to safety.
They had reached the upper landing. An arched door led into the round room at the top of the tower.
“Open it,” Marcus ordered.
At the sound of voices on the stairs, Beth and Lilly carried out their plan. Lilly crouched in a far corner while Beth waited behind the door. She held a heavy silver candlestick above her head.
The door opened and Ramsey stepped through it.
Beth brought the candlestick down as hard as she could. She missed his head but caught his shoulder. With a bellow he fell to his knees.
Apparently indifferent to Ramsey’s groans, Mr. Nyeland appeared round the door, his brown eyes wide with concern. “Beth! Are you all right?”
She dropped the candlestick and gazed at him wordlessly, swiping away the lock which had tumbled into her eyes. Regaining her wits, she raised the skirts of her crumpled and soiled gown and stumbled over to gaze up at him. “Is it really you, Mr. Nyeland? I’m not seeing things?”
“Best call me Marcus, Beth. You are safe now.” Her knight in shining armor folded her into his arms.
Behind them, Ramsey staggered uneasily to his feet, swerved away, and disappeared down the stairs.
“He’s gone!” Beth clutched Marcus’ lapel not wishing to relinquish her hold on him. She drew in his reassuring masculine scent.
“He’ll be dealt with later. I need to get you home.”
“Ramsey tricked me into coming here. There was a letter…,” Beth gasped.
“You can tell me all of it later, Beth,” Marcus said, his arm around her.
“You can’t trust ’im, sir,” Lilly said, her voice trembling as she came across to them.
Marcus smiled at her. “Who am I to thank for helping Miss Harrismith?”
“This is Lilly,” Beth said. “She’s been wonderful.”
He eased Beth away and raised her chin with a finger to study her face. “Did he hurt you?”
She shook her head.
Thank God! “Do you know why he wanted to force you into marriage?”
Beth shook her head. “He didn’t explain why. I thought he must be mad. I doubt he even liked me very much.”
Marcus’ lips twitched. “I suspect Ramsey anticipated dealing with a wilting flower and not a spirited girl like you, Beth. I am eager to hear more. But we should go. Ramsey has become distracted, but that might not last.”
She nodded. “How did you get inside? Everything is locked.”
“I broke a window.” He took Beth’s arm. “Best we leave now.”
Beth’s knees wobbled as they made their way down the winding stair with Lilly behind them.
“Ramsey was severely shaken after finding a body in a bedchamber,” Marcus said.
“We saw it too.” Beth gave a shudder.
“Go carefully. He’ll stop us if he can,” he cautioned, as they made their way along the passage. “He has too much to lose to let us leave.”
Beth flinched at every door they passed. Thankfully, each one remained closed.
Marcus ushered them toward the main staircase. “Ramsey said the dead woman was his aunt, do you know if that’s true, Lilly?”
“It could be Lady Moncrief’s sister, Agnes,” Lilly said. “Both ladies lived here at one time. But I wasn’t here then, so I’m not sure.”
“It’s a mystery,” Marcus said, “and must remain so for now. I need to get you two ladies safely away from here. But should Ramsey have escaped the house in the coach it presents some difficulty.”
“Why?” Beth asked faintly. She was so dreadfully tired, and now that Marcus was here, so solid and dependable, she just wanted to curl up in his arms and sleep.
“I only have one horse,” he said as they stood poised at the top of the stairs.
“I can fend for meself. I’ll hide from the monster,” Lilly said her voice lacking conviction.
Beth shook her head. “I shan’t let you do that, Lilly.”
“Now, I’ll go first. Be careful how you go, ladies.”
Marcus moved off down the stairs. Dawn was breaking, a new day was beginning.
Chapter Seven
Through the long window, the sky was a cool violet threaded with slashes of pink. Marcus descended the main staircase with the two women behind him. He gripped the pistol, alert for an attack from Ramsey. So far there was no sign of the man. Nothing stirred below them in the great hall, the lamp on the table still burning.
“I can’t believe we’re free,” Beth whispered.
Lilly drew in a sharp breath. “Ye don’t know ’im, miss. ’E won’t give up.”
“No, I believe you are right, Lilly,” Marcus said.
They stepped down onto the flagstones.
Ramsey suddenly jumped out from the well of darkness leading to the servant’s stairs. He brandished a sword, one of a pair which had decorated the wall.
Marcus pushed the two women behind him. He watched Ramsey warily. “Do you want me to shoot you?” He had killed men when fighting for his country. But that was war. Although he would happily take his fists to Ramsey, he didn’t want another death on his conscience, and certainly not a man who was clearly out of his mind.
“You’d shoot me down like a horse with a broken leg?” Ramsey cried circling them, swiping the air with the epee. “What about a fair fight, Nyeland? Shall we duel? Or are you a coward?”
Marcus sighed and contemplated shooting him in the leg, but that would cause more problems. “If you wish,” he said finally. “But Beth and Lilly must first leave the house.” He was a keen fencer who practiced often. But Ramsey would undoubtedly be an able opponent. Most gentlemen patronized Angelo’s Fencing Academy. And madmen were dangerous with a sword in their hands.
“Best shoot ’im sir!” Lilly said.
“I’m not leaving you, Marcus,” Beth stated flatly.
Marcus drew her aside. He handed her the pistol. “Leave the grounds. It’s light enough for you to find your way to a neighbor’
s house. Ask for their help,” he said quietly as Ramsey walked over to take down the remaining epee. “I’ll find you there. But if Ramsey defeats me and comes after you, shoot him.”
“No! I intend to stay.” Beth’s fingers coiled around the steel butt. Her gaze on Ramsey she raised the gun in his direction; and although it shook a little in her hands, she looked determined.
She stole Marcus’ heart at that moment. He intended to remain alive to persuade her to marry him. “Go,” he said gently. “I’m sure you don’t wish to distract me.”
Apparently seeing the sense of this, Beth slowly nodded. “Please be careful.”
He held out his hand to Ramsey. “The keys.”
Ramsey reached into his pocket and drew out a bunch of housekeeper’s keys. He tossed them to Marcus, who then handed them to Lilly.
Beth kept the pistol aimed at Ramsey as she took her evening cloak from the hall stand and picked up her reticule.
Lilly unlocked the door.
For a moment Beth stood in the doorway, her anxious gaze on Marcus, then she followed the maid out into the faint dawn light.
While not entirely confident she would obey him, Marcus divested himself of his coat. He would have to make sure he walked out of here in one piece.
Ramsey handed the sword hilt first to Marcus, his eyes lit with a manic fire.
“Wait, Ramsey.” Marcus walked to the door to ensure Beth and Lilly had left. Finding no sign of them, he returned. He tested the unfamiliar epee, having been more used to the foil, and the saber during the war. This was a much heavier blade, the shape, weight and fluting reminiscent of an ancient dueling sword. A thrusting weapon, the guard was large, cup-shaped to protect the hand and wrist. He tested the strength of the steel and the feel of the sword in his hands, slicing through the air. Then he saluted his opponent.
“EnGuarde!” Ramsey cried taking up the stance.
Ramsey would duel to the death, Marcus realized. In his twisted mind it would be a gentleman’s death. Why hadn’t he just shot the man? But to do that would make an appalling beginning for himself and Beth. Such an inauspicious start would stand between them. He didn’t fancy appearing like a coward in her eyes.
Aware of how vulnerable he was without a mask or protective gear, Marcus raised his foil and moved across the floor. He considered his tactics. He would need to distract Ramsey, put him off balance.
“Allez!” Ramsey lunged, the point of his weapon aimed at Marcus’ chest, revealing his intentions.
With short and fast steps, Marcus parried with a riposte driving Ramsey back with a clash of steel. “Enjoy your last moments on earth,” Ramsey cried, the lust for revenge darkening his eyes.
They danced around each other, their feet scuffling across the floor. Their blades locked together, and Marcus could smell Ramsey’s sour sweat. Sweat dripped down his own brow as he disengaged and twisted to attack Ramsey’s left side. Panting, Ramsey parried.
“Why do you wish revenge on the Duke of Harrow?” Marcus asked as their blades clashed again.
“He accused me of cheating in a Paris gaming house. I was banned from them all.” Ramsey was gasping, breathing hard. “I had a good life there. He destroyed my livelihood.”
“Andrew would not have done so had it not been true,” Marcus said, parrying a vicious attack.
“As his friend you would say that.” Riled, Ramsey attacked wildly again. Marcus felt the bottom step of the staircase behind his feet. Before he could stumble, he attacked with a series of thrusts driving Ramsey back.
“What good would come from taking Beth to France?” he asked when he could gain his breath.
“As Harrow’s sister-in-law, she will restore my credibility in the gaming houses. I could take up my life there again,” Ramsey huffed out. “Harrow could be persuaded to part with a goodly sum of money to have her back in England. If I should agree to part with my bride.”
“Sounds like a crazed scheme with no chance of success.”
“It would have worked perfectly had you not interfered. Once the girl was despoiled, her only option would have been marriage.”
Furious, Marcus forgot his plan and attacked with reckless force. He drove Ramsey back against the refectory table, jolting the lamp. It rocked and threatened to fall. It distracted Marcus for a moment. Ramsey recovered with a laugh, and struck, pinking Marcus’ arm.
Marcus cursed as blood dripped down his sleeve. If it wet his fingers, he would be lost.
They battled back across the flag stones, until Ramsey stumbled over a piece of armor. With an angry cry he lunged again only to be blocked by Marcus. “Who was the dead woman in the cupboard?” he asked Ramsey.
Ramsey parried vigorously. “I told you. My aunt!”
“Which one?” Marcus fended off another frenzied attack. It had been a long night, and they were both tiring.
“Agnes. She disappeared some years ago. It’s likely her sister Gertrude killed her. A lot of spleen between them.”
“Madness runs in your family?”
With an almost inhuman growl, Ramsey attacked ferociously darting forward with quick steps. He breathed heavily, his face crimson, and sweat coursed down his forehead. His anger made him careless. As he darted forward, Marcus’ epee slid off Ramsey’s blade, and struck deep into the man’s shoulder.
The sword flying from his hand, Ramsey sank down with a groan. He clutched the wound where blood gushed. “Finish me off, Nyeland.”
Marcus kicked away Ramsey’s sword. He pulled off his cravat, folded it and tucked it into Ramsey’s coat. “I’ll send a doctor to you.”
“Don’t bother,” Ramsey muttered.
Pulling on his coat Marcus left the house. There was no sign of the women. He hoped they were on their way to the village, but a few yards down the driveway, they emerged from the still dripping foliage.
“Thank God!” Beth hurried over, her voice shaking. “But you’ve been wounded.”
“It’s just a scratch.”
“Is he dead?” she asked.
“No, he’ll live,” Marcus replied.
“Miss wanted to go back inside and shoot the baron,” Lilly said. “But I stopped ’er.”
“Very sensible, Lilly.” Marcus gazed down into the exhausted face of the young lady he was coming to feel a great deal for.
Beth tore the delicate flounce from her gown. “The dress is ruined anyway,” she explained as she tied the pink satin around his arm.
“Can you ride, Lilly?” Marcus asked.
“Ponies and plough horses. I’m a country girl.”
“Good enough.” Marcus took Beth’s arm and led them to the stables. “Wait here.” He climbed the coach house stairs and pounded on the door of the stable staff’s quarters.
A burly individual, wiping sleep from his eyes opened it. “What yer want?”
“Your master is in need of you,” Marcus said.
The coachman blinked at the sky. “Barely dawn. He didn’t order an early start. Had plans he said.”
“You’d best go to him immediately. He’s wounded and not in the best of humors.”
After pulling on his trousers the man raced down the stairs.
Marcus entered the stables, gasping at the rancid smell of neglect. He backed Zeus from his stall and saddled him. Then he put a rein on the gelding with the four white feet. He looked for another saddle but there was none.
In the yard, he lifted Beth onto Zeus’ back, and then boosted Lilly up behind her. He took hold of the gelding’s rein and mounted him. The horse, unused to being ridden bareback whickered and sidled.
“There, my good fellow,” Marcus soothed, patting the horse’s neck. “A decent feed awaits you.” He had no compunction about borrowing Ramsey’s horse. He wished he could keep him. The gelding was too good for the likes of the baron. And should Ramsey rally and decide to follow them, a missing member of his team would delay him for a little while.
As the horses trotted along the drive, Marcus glanced through the windo
w. In the great hall, the coachman helped Ramsey to his feet. The wound was high on the shoulder but bled freely. It was unlikely to kill him, but it would take him some time to recover. Marcus didn’t much care. Let Andrew deal with the fellow.
With Lilly’s arms around her, Beth drooped over Zeus’ neck as they crossed the stone bridge and entered an inn at Richmond. The ostler in the yard hurried to tend a coach which pulled in and deposited weary travelers.
“I’ll hire a chaise to take you home after breakfast,” Marcus said. It was unfortunate that it would be broad daylight when they reached London. At least Beth would be accompanied by a maid. He still hoped he could ensure Beth was not compromised by this night of villainy.
“More coffee miss?” the inn’s servant asked Beth.
“Yes, thank you.” Beth glanced shyly at Marcus who was tucking into a steak. She was exhausted, but oddly alert and aware of everything around her, the smells of roasted meat, coffee, and ale, the chatter of diners surrounding them, Marcus’ concerned gaze, more intense than mere concern. Or was she being fanciful?
He smiled at her. “We’ve been lucky, a chaise for hire has just pulled in after taking their fare to a house nearby.”
She couldn’t look away from him. A dark beard covered his jaw, which made him look like a highwayman instead of a gentleman. Her fingers itched to stroke it. Would it be coarse or silky? An honorable man. As soon as they arrived, he had arranged for a surgeon to treat Ramsey’s wound. Would she ever meet another to equal him? She doubted it. Had she really suspected him of being a rake? Was it only last night? What would have happened to her and Lilly had he not come? It didn’t bear thinking about.
“Do you think that Ramsey will come after us? Follow us to London?” She wasn’t afraid when Marcus was with her.
“No, he’s in no condition to travel but if he does he’ll go north. You won’t see him again.”
He seemed so sure. She wanted to believe him. It was a miracle that he had come to find her. “How did you discover he’d taken me?” she asked, as the eggs and drink warmed the cold knot in her stomach. She wanted to know everything.
“Ramsey’s note sent Mrs. Grayshott off on a wild goose chase into the gardens,” Marcus explained. “She searched everywhere for you, then accused me as I was the last man to dance with you. Discovering her mistake she begged my assistance.”
The Midnight Hour: All-Hallows’ Brides Page 42