Night Shadow

by Catherine Coulter

  “I do,” came a diffident voice.

  “Well, what is it?” Arielle snapped as she turned on Dr. Brody.

  “Do you mind if I examine Viscount Castlerosse’s rib?”

  Lily laughed, laughed until she hurt. “Ah, Knight, you’ve been disposed of quite nicely. I’ve learned a valuable lesson here.”

  Knight said nothing, nodded to Dr. Brody, then climbed into bed beside Lily. “All right. Examine away.”

  “You’re an outrageous man.”

  “I’m your husband. You can’t order me out. I intend to stay here and let Arielle mother both of us. Once the children arrive, it will be chaos and bedlam and you’ll regret your kindness, Arielle. The little devils will bring Ravensworth down around your ears. You’ll wear mufflers just to stay reasonably sane. Then, just when you’ll be ready to muzzle them, they’ll smile at you or give you a look that would melt a stone, and you’re a goner and they’ve got you and it all begins again. The servants will no longer be loyal to you but to them. You’ll see.”

  Arielle could only marvel silently. Knight Winthrop was saying these things? About children?

  “I intend to tell them about all the presents we’ll be bringing them from Venice, Knight,” Lily said.

  “I think that—ow! God, that hurts, dammit.”

  “Do hold still, my lord,” Dr. Brody said and proceeded to probe the flesh covering Knight’s rib. To Knight’s consternation, Lily picked up his hand and patted it.

  “At least I have both of you in the same place now. If you give me any trouble, I can simply lock the door.” Arielle beamed down at them and Knight cursed.

  “When you’re done, Michael, why don’t we leave them alone to rest? The viscountess is very reasonable. They will rest, I doubt not.”

  Dr. Brody mumbled something under his breath and Knight said, all surprise, “Why, I believe he’s embarrassed. You’re a bloody doctor, Michael. I—ow.”

  “There, my lord, all done now. Rest, as her ladyship instructed. I’ll see you both on the morrow.”

  When Knight and Lily were finally alone, Knight came up on his elbow and looked down at her. “We made it.”

  “That we did. I still have difficulty understanding why you never felt that bullet hit you.”

  “I guess the doctor is right. I was so scared for you, my body decided not to further strain my brain.” He leaned down and kissed her mouth, her chin, her nose. “Look outside, Lily. It’s snowing again. Damn, how can Burke travel in this wretched weather? How can the children?”

  “Burke is an inventive man. That’s what you told me. No, don’t go into a snit again. Lie down and hold my hand and tell me about the Bow Street runner.”

  “I met Ollie Trunk this past summer,” Knight said, his eyes on the naked cherubs that smiled down upon them from the ceiling molding. “I guess Arielle forgot. In any case, he’s a good fellow and tenacious as a bull terrier. He’ll help. Perhaps he can even find out about this Billy and Charlotte.”

  “I love you so much, Knight,” Lily said clearly, and in the next moment was deeply asleep, her breathing even and soft.

  Knight felt like he’d been shot again.

  His heart began to pound. Loudly.

  This incredible woman loved him? Dear God, he’d neatly forced her to marry him; taken her as his natural right as her husband without regard to what she wanted; put her in mortal danger—and she loved him. Well, damn and blast, he was as happy as a man could be in six decades. He grinned. He wanted to howl and dance. He winked at the cherubs overhead.

  Then he shook his head at himself. He supposed he wasn’t really surprised that he loved his wife as well. He’d told Burke he loved her, but he hadn’t really felt it while he had said it. It had come as stealthily as a thief in the night, this love business. It hadn’t happened to his father. So it had skipped a generation. He’d make certain it didn’t skip any more generations in his family. “That makes two of us,” he told the sleeping Lily. “But I’ll wager I love you more. I’m older by seven years, after all. I have more experience, more skills involving things that are, well, er, related. Yes, I’ll wager you that you haven’t come close to what I feel for you, Lily Winthrop. But I’ll let you work at it. We can examine this in another ten years or so and see. But I’ll still be ahead.” Grinning like a village idiot, Knight kissed his wife’s left ear, then turned onto his back, still grinning like a fool, and was snoring within minutes.

  When Lily awoke the following morning, Knight wasn’t in bed beside her. She called his name. He wasn’t in the Diamond Room either. She didn’t want to disturb her hostess, but finally worry made her pull the bell cord.

  Arielle appeared some ten minutes later. She looked none too pleased. Indeed, she looked ready to kill. “Your husband,” she said slowly, as if keeping a wild fury under control, “left two hours ago, nearly at the crack of dawn. He left this note for you.” She handed the scrap of paper to Lily.

  Lily,

  I’m off to Castle Rosse. Will return with the children soon. Don’t worry and don’t do anything stupid.

  Knight

  Lily’s hands fisted on her lap. She wadded up the note and tossed it across the room, then promptly groaned from the pain in her shoulder. “I’ll kill him. Damn him, Arielle. He’s hurt.”

  “I know,” Arielle said, then regretted that she’d shown so much anger to Lily. This patient was rapidly becoming quite upset. “Now, Lily, he’ll be all right. Burke has told me that Knight is a man who can take care of himself. He said he was a survivor, that he’d trekked through the hills of Portugal one summer when it was so hot the rocks were nearly melting, and he made it to the sea with two French spies in tow. The wound wasn’t grave, Lily. He’ll be just fine.”

  “When he gets back here, he’ll have to survive me. Right now I’m feeling a lot meaner and a lot tougher than two Frenchmen.”

  “They weren’t Frenchmen. They were Frenchwomen.”

  “Arrgh.”

  At least it had stopped snowing. Thank the powers for something. Now he could keep his horse at a steady gallop. Knight knew a shortcut northwest to Castle Rosse. Burke didn’t. He wouldn’t be surprised if he caught up with the earl before reaching home.

  His rib hurt, but not excessively, and the extreme cold kept him pretty well numbed. He’d lain there beside his beautiful wife, wondering, worrying, then finally realizing that he simply couldn’t allow Burke to ride into possible danger. Burke didn’t know how vicious Monk was.

  Knight changed horses at three different posting houses. At Netherfield, the ostler at the Wild Goose Inn had nothing to rent him but a slope-shouldered gelding that had more heart and grit than a racer. The journey to Castle Rosse ended up taking him a mere six hours.

  There was no sign of Monk.

  There was a good deal of pandemonium when Knight walked through the great oak doors into the Italian-marble tiled entry hall of Castle Rosse.

  He hadn’t beat Burke, but then again, Burke had been one hell of a soldier and tracker.

  “Papa.” Laura Beth lost her footing on the staircase and tumbled down three steps to land on the floor at Knight’s feet. He scooped her up, tossed her high in the air, and then held her so tightly against his chest that she squeaked.

  Burke Drummond came out of the drawing room to witness this reunion. He stared.

  Theo said from just behind him, “Cousin Knight is here. I thought you said he was at Ravensworth, sir. Oh, goodness. He doesn’t look well. Laura Beth will strangle him.”

  Theo raced around Burke and right into Knight’s quickly freed right arm. “Theo, Theo, I’ve missed you like the very devil.”

  “You’re hurt. Uncle Burke said you were hurt by that awful man. Was it the one who tried to kidnap Sam in London? The one who attacked you in London?”

  “Yes, that was the one. I’m not badly hurt, Theo. Stop shaking. So it’s Uncle Burke, is it? Laura Beth, stop kissing my ear. It’s getting all wet inside. Ah, here’s Sam. Come here, lad, and te
ll me what a saint you’ve been.”

  “Mama. Where’s Mama?”

  “Didn’t Uncle Burke tell you?” He carefully hugged Sam, who was being held in Charlie’s, the footman’s, arms. Knight cupped the boy’s face in his palm. “Your mama’s all right. She’s in bed, being utterly lazy and ordering Uncle Burke’s servants about, throwing her water glass at anyone who dares to disagree with her. All in all, she’s fine.”

  Sam giggled and Theo expelled a relieved sigh.

  Knight looked up and straight at Burke.

  “I couldn’t let you have all the fun, Burke.”

  “I see that. However, you do look like bloody hell.”

  “Yes, my lord, bloody hell indeed,” Thrombin said.

  “Aye, indeed,” Charlie said, adding his oar to the water.

  Knight looked around at his servants, previously silent. Mrs. Crumpe had her arms folded across her ample breasts. Even Mimms was standing in the doorway, a plate of goodies in the crook of her dimpled arm. But Thrombin was the awesome one. He looked utterly disapproving. His lips were so thin they nearly disappeared.

  “His lordship,” Thrombin continued, “has told us that he’s here to remove the children back to Ravensworth. He also assured us that you were all right, but wounded, my lord, and, I might add, quite safe in your bed.”

  “All right, now listen to me, Thrombin. All of you. Laura Beth, stop chewing on my ear. Sam, hold still or Charlie will drop you and you’ll deserve it. Theo, stop wringing your hands like the mourners in a Greek chorus. Mrs. Crumpe, we’ll be in the drawing room. I’m starving. Please bring food and whatever else you deem proper. Come along, Burke. We have a lot to discuss.”

  “Papa,” Laura Beth said and squeezed his throat. “Did you bring Czarina Catherine a present?”

  “Yes, me.”

  Laura Beth didn’t find this answer to her liking, but she was distracted. “Your face is all scratchy.”

  “Yes, and I’m filthy as a winter goat. No, Betty,” he continued to Laura Beth’s new nurse, “I’ll keep the urchin with me for a while. But only if you behave yourself, snippet.”

  “All right, Papa,” Laura Beth assured him, and he groaned, knowing that sweet, utterly guileless smile.

  Charlie carried Sam into the drawing room and placed him on a couch. Theo fussed over his brother until Sam, disgusted, told him to stick his head up his—and thankfully stopped. Laura Beth was quite content curled up against Knight’s shoulder. That made his rib hurt, but it didn’t matter. Everything seemed so blessedly normal again. It helped erase the nightmare of the past two days.

  It was another half hour before Burke and Knight were alone, the children carping and complaining but nonetheless off to their beds. There was a blazing fire in the fireplace, and Burke brought out the brandy bottle.

  “Your children are delightful.”

  Knight smiled sleepily. “Yes, the little devils are quite unique. Czarina Catherine is Laura Beth’s doll.”

  “Thank you. It was a question that was weighing on my poor brain.”

  “No sign of our Monk?”

  “No, not a one. I only beat you here by three hours, though. I did, however, alert all the servants, particularly the stable lads. They’re ready, Knight.”

  Knight nodded. “Now what we need is a trap for our villain.”

  “You’ve got an idea?”

  Knight sat forward and rubbed his hands toward the leaping flames. “Yes,” he said, his eyes narrowing, “yes, and it should bring Monk here in short order. The damned bastard.”

  Twenty-three

  Arielle brought George Curlew, the earl’s steward, and Dr. Brody with her to visit Lily in her bedchamber the following morning for a cup of tea.

  “I thought you would like to see a face that wasn’t mine for a change,” Arielle said.

  Lily nodded and sipped at the tea. “This is so good.”

  “Would you like a bit of laudanum?” Dr. Brody asked.

  Lily shook her head. The pain was deep and it was steady, but she didn’t want to see her guests through a haze. “Not just yet, thank you.”

  Arielle chatted with profound determination, all the while keeping one eye on Lily, who was quiet, too quiet. Even though she was still confined to her bed, Arielle had brushed her hair and arranged a lovely pale blue silk peignoir around her shoulders. She saw that George Curlew and Michael Brody were looking at Lily with new eyes, and very masculine eyes at that, and paying her endless compliments. Arielle grinned to herself. If they’d looked at her like that during the past summer, or told her even once that her gown was lovely, she would have been terrified and probably fled the vicinity.

  But Lily was beautiful, Arielle remarked without a spark of envy. It was something beyond just the excellent complementing of her features; it was something more, something glowing and soft and brilliant. Arielle had more than a sneaking suspicion that Knight Winthrop was responsible. She looked over to see how Lily was taking this abundance of male appreciation.

  Lily didn’t even notice. Arielle was concerned that Lily’s shoulder was hurting her more than she was letting on, but Michael hadn’t said anything, so she held her peace. Once Lily had crumbled her second scone, Arielle said with just a hint of a smile, “Lily, I must now assume you’re thinking about Knight, and worrying. Well, you know very well that Burke and Knight were soldiers and officers. They’re both quite resourceful, intelligent—”

  “They’re idiots.”

  “Yes, well, they’re men, so that is also true.”

  “I will kill Knight.”

  “He’ll doubtless be gratified that you’ve worried about him. Now stop your dithering. It can’t be good for your recovery.”

  “Did you say two Frenchwomen?”

  “They were spies, Lily, French spies. Not really women, but enemies.”

  “Hah. How long was he alone with them in those hot, arid hills of Portugal?”

  “Not long at all. Not more than a fortnight, or perhaps it was three weeks. I don’t remember. It’s not important. It was an assignment, a very difficult one, but just another assignment.”

  “I believe,” George Curlew said, anxious to provide information to this exquisite confection of womanhood, “that Lord Castlerosse was alone with the spies only for a sennight. Then, my lady,” he added, turning to Arielle, “I think the earl joined him and the two of them brought the French spies to the English command near Oporto, I believe it was.”

  Arielle turned on the hapless steward. “You’re telling me that Burke was also escorting those wretched women?”

  “Now, Arielle,” Lily said, “they were spies, enemies. It was just another assignment, difficult no doubt, but just another assignment.”

  “I’ll kill him.” Arielle’s hair looked fiery red at that moment, not at all a soft titian. “More tea, Michael?”

  Lily laughed at Dr. Brody’s alarmed expression, then moaned from the jab of pain in her shoulder.

  The doctor rose immediately and came to her. “I must leave soon, my lady. A local woman is in labor and I need to lend a hand. May I examine you now?”

  How odd that title still sounded. Lily nodded. Arielle and Mr. Curlew left the bedchamber. Dr. Brody was all efficiency as he bared the wound. “It hurts dreadfully?”

  “Yes, but for the most part I can control it. It is just times when, for example, I laugh that I pay a high price.”

  Dr. Brody helped her onto her side and eased her gown down to look at her back.

  He straightened, finally done, and smiled at her. “You are the most remarkable patient I’ve ever had. You’ve no sign of fever or poisoning of the blood, and the wound is pink and healthy. Still, my lady, you must rest and do nothing at all strenuous until further notice from me. By strenuous I mean doing more than lifting your own teacup. If you continue at this phenomenal rate, I’ll remove the stitches from your back next Tuesday or Wednesday. Then—” He shrugged, smiling.

  “I’ll be dancing at a ball,” Lily said. �
�And then to Venice. After, that is,” she added, her eyes slitting, “I’ve murdered my husband.” But she was soon thinking about Monk, wondering if Theo and Sam and Laura Beth were in any danger, and trying to convince herself that Burke and Knight could well handle any attempt on Monk’s part to hurt the children, or them, for that matter.

  They should all be arriving tonight.

  She missed them dreadfully. She wondered how they’d greeted their steppapa.

  The pain worsened late in the morning, and Lily took some laudanum willingly. She slept throughout the remainder of the day. Arielle ate her dinner with Lily in the bedchamber, both ladies keeping an ear trained for the sounds of a carriage arriving at Ravensworth. Nary a sound of anything.

  Nor did they arrive the following day.

  “Stop fidgeting, Arielle,” Lily finally said to her new friend as she watched her pace back and forth across the bedchamber, stopping every few minutes to twitch the heavy draperies aside to look outside.

  “I just don’t like it. That miserable philanderer could be in trouble.”

  “They were spies, Arielle, enemies.” Lily giggled.

  “It’s snowing again,” Arielle said. “How can they travel in this weather? Didn’t you say Sam’s leg was hurt? However will they manage?”

  Lily didn’t know. To think about it made her head hurt nearly as much as her shoulder.

  Late that afternoon Lily fell into a light sleep. Her dreams weren’t pleasant. Monk was chasing her and Knight through narrow canals filled with brackish water. They were riding in long, narrow boats that Knight called gondolas. Suddenly the gondola tipped from a vicious shove from Monk’s oar. Lily felt the black water close over her head, heard Knight yelling frantically for her. She moaned and jerked awake.

  She wasn’t alone. She was staring up into Monk’s very real and very mean face. One huge hand was clamped tightly over her mouth. Before she could react, he stuffed a dirty handkerchief into her mouth and quickly tied another over it and knotted it tightly behind her head.