“Home, safe in their beds, cheri.” A metallic odor filled her nostrils as he covered her nose and mouth with a cloth. She struggled briefly, then fell into darkness.
Cecelia’s lids fluttered as she struggled to work her way through the haze. She moaned. Her head was spinning and felt as if it were t hree times its size. She was curled on her side on a blanket. Another had been pulled up to her shoulders. Her shoulders ached. She made an attempt to move and found that her arms were tied behind her back. Her ankles chafed, her legs prickled painfully and she realized her ankles were bound as well. She struggled against the bindings to no avail.
“I’m sorry, cheri, but I had little choice.” André’s voice was distant and dreamlike and she wondered if she were dreaming.
He knelt beside her. She blinked several times but her eyes refused to focus. It was dark out. The air was cool. She blinked again. He wore a dark evening cape and if not for the lantern that flickered across his face, he would have blended into the shadows.
“What happened?” Her throat was scratchy. Her mouth felt as if it were stuffed with cotton. It was a struggle to think clearly.
“You must be thirsty.” He slid his arms beneath her and helped her to sit up. Her back rested against a stone wall. “You must try to wake up.”
Her head was slowly beginning to clear. The lantern perched on a low wall. The moon shone brightly overhead illuminating the array of various sized walls that surrounded them. She took in a slow deep breath. This was no dream. “Why did you tell me David had been hurt?”
“I had to lure you away from the house. It seemed the best way.”
“We’re at the old Abbey, aren’t we?”
He was digging through a satchel. “Oui.”
“But why?”
“I’ll explain in a moment.” He held a silver flask to her lips and she felt her first stab of fear. When she turned her head away he added, “It’s only water, cheri. I promise you.”
“I feel so peculiar. What did you do to me?”
“Sweet vitriol. I gave you only enough to subdue you. You would have fought me and that would have made my task far more difficult. The feeling should leave soon." He took a drink and then held the flask to her lips again. “See? I added nothing to the water. I know you are thirsty. Sweet vitriol has that affect.”
She drank only enough to ease the dryness of her throat. He wiped her mouth and chin with a handkerchief.
“Do not be afraid of me,” he said soothingly. “I would never hurt you.”
“Monsieur, why did you do this?”
“I know that you are frightened and uncomfortable and I wish it did not have to be. I care for you deeply. I love you. Did you not know that?”
She took in a shaky breath. “Then why would you do this if you love me?”
“It’s quite a tale, cheri. One I must tell without delay for your husband will soon be here and you must understand everything before he arrives. But first, I will unbind your ankles.”
He quickly cut through the leather bindings with a small knife. The sudden flow of blood to her feet was painful enough to make her gasp.
André removed her slippers and began to massage her feet. “I know this pains you, but once the circulation is restored you will be fine. As to my tale. It will be hard for you to hear, but I must make you understand.” He paused. “The man you married carries many secrets. As do I.” He looked up from his ministrations. “But do not be alarmed. I promise you will come to no harm at my hands. You see, my memory has returned. It is all very complicated and yet so simple. I never planned to fall in love with you. In fact, I am ashamed to admit my original plan was to kill you.” His voice was filled with regret. “Had I succeeded, it would have been a terrible tragedy for then I would have never known you. My memory loss spared you. It was meant to be. Your husband took Marguerite from me and now I shall take you from him. It is only fair, don’t you think?”
Cecelia’s heart beat painfully against her chest and she struggled to keep her breathing even. “I don’t understand. Who is Marguerite?”
“My lover. She was older than I and very worldly. I would have done anything for her, just as I would do for you. I love with my whole heart, cheri. Clarendon murdered her. He was a spy in England’s war with Napoleon. Marguerite and I were to intercept the message he carried and learn what we could before he was eliminated. It did not go as we wished.”
“You must be mistaken. He wasn’t a spy. He was on the Peninsula. He served as an officer in the Army.”
“Non, cheri. He did not. He was an English agent and he murdered the woman I loved. It happened before my eyes and there was nothing I could do to prevent it. I, also, had been shot and lost a great deal of blood. I tried to reach her but it was impossible. I wanted to die too, but it was not to be.
“I was consumed with anger and bitterness. I wanted revenge. For three years I tried to learn the identity of the man who killed her. It was your wedding announcement that brought me here. I planned to kill Clarendon’s bride as he watched so he would know what it was like to experience such a horror. Fate intervened.”
A chill went down her spine and she couldn’t hold back the shiver.
“Are you cold, cheri? Do you want the blanket?”
“No.” She tried to moisten her lips. Her mouth had gone dry again. “What will you do now?”
“He must pay the price. I left him a note. He should be here soon.”
“You’re going to kill him?”
“I’m sorry, but I must. There is no other way. At first, it will be difficult, but you will soon come to terms. We can travel. Live where you wish. I cannot provide such a grand house as Fenton Abbey, but I am not a poor man. I can make you happy.” He spoke as calmly as if he were planning a trip to the village.
“He’ll bring others with him. You won’t have a chance.”
“He will come alone. He believes you and I are meeting here as lovers. He won’t want others to know.”
She sat silent, absorbing what he had told her, attempting to put together a plan in her head. But this was all beyond her experience. For the moment, the best she could do was to pacify him. If he trusted her, he might grow careless. She swallowed. “I will gladly go with you, but I would rather that no one else had to die. The children need him. Whatever else he has done, he has been good to them.”
“Left alive, he will hunt us down and bring you back.”
It was true, but she desperately hoped to convince him otherwise. “I wouldn’t go with him. I don’t love him.” It was hard to say the words. At that moment, she realized how much she truly did love him. “Sometimes, I even hate him, but I don’t wish him dead.”
He jerked his head up. His face showed plainly in the lantern’s light. His mouth was twisted and his expression furious. “It is his fate!” he shouted. “His just reward. The curse cannot be broken. You cannot change that.”
For a moment she thought he would strike her. “Please don’t shout at me, monsieur. It frightens me.”
It seemed forever before he spoke. “Forgive me.” His voice was, once again, calm. “Please understand. Divorce is not possible. He needs an heir. Without a male to inherit his title he will never let you go, though truthfully, I do not believe he would let you go under any circumstances. A man like Clarendon does not give up what he sees as his.” He paused. “He must die. The curse makes that clear.”
“I don't understand.”
“There is a reason events have fallen into place. We live in a preordered existence. Fate brought him here. A man cannot change his destiny. He must die. It is the way of it.” He cupped her cheek with his hand. “The world is not always a pretty place but I will take care of you. You are so sweet and soft-hearted. So different from Marguerite. And yet, I’ve loved you both as much as anyone can. Far more than your husband ever could.”
She closed her eyes and tried to add a measure of bitterness to her voice. “It’s been so humiliating. He takes every opportunity to pa
rade his paramours in front of my face.”
“I have heard the stories.”
“I’m expected to look the other way, but I can’t. I didn’t want to marry him. My brother made me. I’ve tried to make the best of it.” She shook her head. "It's been awful."
“Soon you will be free.”
“Afterward.” She swallowed. “What will we do? They’ll send out search parties. We’ll be caught.”
“They won’t begin to look until late morning. By then, we shall be hours away. I’m very good at disappearing. I’ve had a great deal of experience. I’ve brought clothing for both of us. They will be looking for a gentleman and lady of quality, not a rudely attired peasant couple. And I have managed to procure funds from your husband’s safe though it will be best not to spend more than necessary. It will draw attention. As will your jewels. We will sew them into your skirts.”
“You’ve put a great deal of thought into this.”
“I have. And this time, I will not fail.”
This time. The meaning of his words sank in. He had knocked Rand unconscious and left him to die in the fire. And the brandy. He had done something to the brandy. He was mad. She couldn’t allow this to happen. But she wasn’t even certain she could stand.
“I still feel so peculiar. If I could walk around a bit it might help.”
He frowned. “Some do not wake easily from the sweet vitriol though I gave you a very small amount.”
“How do you know about this sweet vitriol?”
“Marguerite and I used it on our victims. It was my contribution to her schemes. Once they were unconscious, we could take them to an isolated spot and when they woke the interrogation would begin. She was very cruel. You would not have liked her.” He rose to his feet. “We must climb the steps. That should help to wake you up.”
“I don’t like heights. Couldn’t we just walk around down here?”
She tried to rise as well but her legs felt boneless and without her arms to aid her it was impossible. “Will you untie my wrists? I can’t seem to manage.”
He responded by placing his hands beneath her arms and lifting her to her feet.
“Please? My shoulders are cramping and my hands are numb.”
“I’m sorry, cheri, but it is best that I wait.”
“I’m afraid of falling.”
“I will not let you fall.” He placed his arm around her and walked her toward the stone steps.
Panic was setting in. On the steps she would be even more helpless than she was now. “Why must we climb the steps?”
“Your husband is far too clever. I will not meet him on even ground.”
When they reached the top, Cecelia saw what he meant. Without cover, Rand would make an easy target as he rode across the meadow, while they would remain protected by the partial wall that held the steps in place.
“Take care not to stand too closely to the edge. I must retrieve the satchel.” Disheartened, she watched as he descended the steps. Escape was impossible in her present state. Though her head had cleared, her body was slow to recover. Her legs were trembling and without arms for balance, she could easily fall. It wasn’t an acceptable risk. Not with their child growing inside her. As he came back up she noticed that he held his shoulder more stiffly than usual.
“Does your shoulder pain you?”
“I am accustomed to it.”
“You lifted me onto your mount. That must have made it worse.”
Without answering, he pulled three pistols from the satchel and another from his coat. He lined them on top of the half wall and stared out into the night. The moon was bright. She tugged at the bindings on her wrists. They were tied fast. She began to shiver, though whether it was from the cold or fear she didn’t know.
“You are cold.” He started to shrug out of his coat but she shook her head in refusal.
“No, thank you.” The chill would help to keep her alert. “Do you remember how your shoulder was injured?”
“When Marguerite was murdered.”
“You were shot in the shoulder?”
“Below the shoulder. Slightly above the heart.”
“Who shot you?”
“I don’t know. It wasn’t your husband. I don’t care to speak of it. It matters little.”
“Will we live in France?”
He turned back to his post. “Non. They would look for us there. We will go to Scotland, at first, and when I deem it safe we will cross to the continent. But not to France. Your sister lives there. The danger would be too great.”
“Why Scotland?”
“It is our safest destination.”
“Must we travel so far? I haven’t been well of late.”
“I know and I am sorry for it, but there are many fine physicians in Edinburgh. We will arrive there as quickly as possible.”
“I’ve wondered--I mean I don’t know, but--what if I’m carrying?”
“Quiet!” His tone was sharp. “If you are carrying we will get rid of it. I will not raise your husband’s brat.”
She wanted sink to the stone landing and weep. The thought that this might actually happen was more than she could take in. She would never see her family again. Or the children. But worst of all, this crazed man meant to take the lives of both her husband and child and she didn’t know how to stop him.
“May I have some more water?”
He retrieved the flask from his jacket and held it to her lips. She sipped slowly hoping to keep him distracted from his post.
“Drink quickly. I must watch for his arrival.”
“I don’t feel well.”
“You must sit down, then.”
“No. It’s too uncomfortable with my wrists tied.”
“You can bear it. It will be over soon.”
“What if he doesn’t come?”
“He will! You are whining like an enfant. Be silent.”
He was angry. She had pushed as far as she could without making things worse. All she could do was wait. And pray.
Chapter Twenty-Four
The windows had been opened, but the card room still reeked of stale cigar. Most of the evening’s players had found their beds, though a few had stayed to watch the last few hands of whist between their host and his unfortunate guest. Beads of sweat had broken out across Lord Sheraton’s forehead. His expression was grim and there was a faint tremor in his hands as he wrote out another vowel to add to those stacked up beside his opponent. Rand felt a surprising amount of pity for him. Jack had little skill at cards and that had been the case for as long as he’d known him. But he didn’t seem to be able to help himself. The man couldn’t stay away from the tables. In truth, Rand had never meant for the game to go on this long but the bastard wouldn’t give up. Even so, it was late and well past time to make his move.
“We can continue this tomorrow if you wish, Jack,” he said as he gathered up the vowels Sheraton had written. “Care to have a drink with me while I lock these away in my office?”
The viscount nodded curtly. Once they bid their good-byes to the others, the two men remained silent until they reached Rand’s office.
Rand unlocked the door and held it open for his guest. “I’d prefer to collect on this now.”
Sheraton’s face paled. “That’s unheard of! I can’t get my hands on that kind of money at a moment’s notice. For Christ’s sake, give me some time.”
“Relax. I don’t want your money, Jack.”
“What then?” He laughed bitterly. “My wife? God knows everyone else has had her. You may as well, too.”
“I don’t want your wife, either. Sit down and I’ll pour you a drink.” He strolled over to the brandy decanter. His brow furrowed as he looked into the empty container. “Damn thing’s been emptied. Would whiskey suffice?”
“Whiskey would be preferable, at this point,” Sheraton muttered as he sank into the leather chair in front of an oversized desk.
Rand poured a generous amount in two tumblers and seated himself behind
the desk. He pushed one at Sheraton.
The viscount picked it up and tossed half its contents down his throat. “I’m no charity case. Add the bloody things up and tell me the damage.”
Rand had already added it up in his head. It was substantial. “If you’ll put a muzzle on your lovely wife, I’ll consider the debt paid in full.
Sheraton’s eyes widened. Then he rubbed at his face and groaned. “What in the hell has Evelyn done now?”
“She’s spreading about that I’m sharing a mistress with André, when the truth is I no longer have a mistress and I have no intention of getting one. My former lifestyle is no longer of importance and it’s heartless to subject my wife to the more scandalous details. The point is, she seems determined to do what she can to make Cecelia miserable and though my wife can give as good as she gets, I won’t have it. Her happiness is worth far more than the three thousand pounds you lost to me this evening.”
For a moment, Sheraton simply stared.
Rand sighed. “What do you find so astounding? That you lost three thousand pounds or that your wife is spreading malicious gossip? I would think you would be accustomed to both by now.”
“Neither. It’s a love match isn’t it? You’re in love with your wife! Christ Almighty! Who would have thought it?”
Rand lifted a sandy brow. “One never knows what life has in store.”
“You lucky bastard.” Sheraton shook his head slowly. “I can’t stand the sight of my wife.”
At this point, Rand couldn’t much blame him. “Do we have an agreement?”
“I’d gladly agree but how do you suggest I keep the woman’s trap shut? She’s out of control, Clarendon. I’m embarrassed to admit I can’t do anything with her. And she’s in dun territory herself.” He took another healthy swallow of his whiskey. “The only reason she was willing to move to the country is that we were being hounded day and night in London by our creditors. It’s so bad, I don’t even think we can go back for the season.” His eyes rolled toward the ceiling. “There’ll be bloody hell to pay when I tell her that.”
The marquis gazed at him coolly. “That’s easily solved. I’ll buy her notes.”
The Devil's Own Luck (Once a Spy) Page 36