Samuel screamed behind Harriet. “Papa,” he said in a childlike voice. “I’m burning.”
Harriet glanced across the altar table. Edgar crouched low across James, watching her. She smiled at him. “Your turn, Mercutio,” she shouted.
James sat up faster than she could have thought possible. Grabbing the end of Edgar’s cane, he pulled strongly at it, forcing the sheath off to reveal the blade in Edgar’s hand.
“I have the knife,” Edgar said with a sneer.
With one quick movement, James reached under Edgar’s arm and grabbed hold of the blade end of the knife and pulled it round to face Edgar. Knocking out Edgar’s other arm from beneath him where he supported himself on the ground, James pulled Edgar into his arms.
“Of course you do, brother.” James said. “In more ways than one.”
Edgar jerked with a gasp.
“Edgar!” screamed Mrs. Sumner.
But she was not the only one screaming. Behind her a smell of burning meat filled the air.
“Papaaaaaa!”
Mr. Granger took the steps two at a time, ignoring Harriet. As soon as he was past her, Harriet ran from the altar table to where James sat supporting Edgar.
As Mr. Madely took a shocked step forward, she whirled and took a step in his direction. “Don’t encourage me,” she said in a low voice, looking at Mrs. Madely. “I’ve been dying to do something like this for some time.”
She turned to look back at James. He stared at her, and with one hand let Edgar go. Edgar rolled upwards onto the hard stone of the church, his sword stick impaled in his chest, his eyes open, sightlessly staring at the rafters.
“And that is how Tybalt kills Mercutio,” James said softly, echoing Harriet’s words from months earlier, “when Mercutio doesn’t expect it, with a stab under Romeo’s arm.” Getting to his feet, he strode to Harriet and plucked the candlesticks from her aching hands. “We won’t need these anymore, my love.”
Harriet glanced behind her. The vicar and his wife were hurrying down the side aisle towards the chapel door. With a start, she realized the screaming had ceased and been replaced by sobbing. Up in the chancel, Mr. Granger moaned over the supine figure of his son on the floor.
Mrs. Sumner leaned over the body of Edgar, her hands fluttering at his clothes, feeling in his pockets, pressing at his neck. “Oh ye gods,” she screamed, “Edgar what have you done? I need the money or the Viper will come for me.”
Harriet looked away. “He was hardly Romeo,” she said, gazing at James from under her lashes.
James laughed. “You always want to have the last word, Harriet. At least you didn’t kick him in the shins.”
Tentatively she put out hand and touched James’ arm. “James, I, we…”
James looked down at her, the light from the candles dancing off the green in his eyes. Capturing her hand in his, he drew her towards him.
“James, your side, the knife,” Harriet mumbled.
James dropped his head to her ear. “All an act,” he whispered, his breath tickling the small tendrils of hair that curled round her chin. Harriet shivered and arched as she felt his hands on her back. “I’ve carried the embroidery you used on my shoulder with me since the day you left me in the cave.”
“I… I don’t understand.” Harriet tipped her head back and moaned as James kissed the underside of her jaw.
“His knife slid through my clothes and caught on the material, to him it must have felt like the knife was sliding along my ribs. I was lucky.” James lifted his head up and stared into Harriet’s eyes. “Harriet, I would be the luckiest man alive if you would consent to be with me, we don’t have to get married. We haven’t signed the register… everything I said was true. My love for you does hurt harder than a sword swipe, and burns hotter than oil. If you said no I would be left half a man, even less than who I was on the Peninsular with that one thought of revenge in my head. Almost alive, but in many ways dead.”
Harriet stared into James’ eyes, feeling his fingers tightening on her back. The chapel door crashed against its blocks at the back of the church and a babble of voices broke into her thoughts. But still she gazed into James’ eyes. No one else mattered.
Freddie’s voice echoed above the rest. “We need to find them as soon as possible. Good god, is that Edgar?” Feet pounded up the aisle. “James lad, Miss Beauregard…”
Harriet took her hand off James’ waist and held it in the air. Freddie huffed to halt behind them, breathing heavily. All sound in the church ceased.
She took in a deep breath and put her upraised hand on the back of James’ head. Briefly she caressed his long black hair.
Then she looked behind her. “That’s Lord Stanton, and Lady Stanton, I think you’ll find, Freddie.” Hearing James’ gasp of astonishment, she turned back to him and pulled his head down to hers. “You may now kiss the bride,” she muttered softly, nose to nose. James gazed into her eyes.
“My wife,” he said, his eyes wide. “My wife.”
With trembling lips, he sought out her mouth. Harriet pressed herself against him and sank into his warm embrace, sighing as he kissed her.
This was better than any Romeo and Juliet scene.
EPILOGUE
Earl Harding stared over the audience towards the makeshift stage at the actors, children and adults, who were drawing out the last scene interminably. He blinked as the curtain fell and the crowd clapped.
“I’ve never seen you so enthralled,” Lord Anglethorpe said, leaning forward. He raised an eyebrow and dropped an eye glass to his side.
“I was working out a strategy by which Romeo could have taken the poison and still lived,” the earl said, flicking an irritated glance towards Lord Anglethorpe, who sat next to him. “This is a damn strange wedding celebration if you ask me. Wouldn’t have come if you hadn’t said it was urgent. I have better things to do.”
“Like sit in your armchair, you mean?” Lord Anglethorpe said.
Earl Harding glared at him. “Not all of us have married bliss to occupy us whilst our informants sit around in Newgate.”
Lord Anglethorpe looked at the ceiling. “Lady Guthrie was extensively injured when we captured her.”
“Thanks to your wife.” Earl Harding rubbed at his jaw. “So she’s said nothing about her connection with Edgar and Fairleigh, then?”
“No.”
“Anything about your father?”
“No.” The whites of Lord Anglethorpe’s knuckles showed as he gripped the seat in front of him.
Lord Granwich coughed on his other side. “We have had some more information about an entity called the Viper.”
Earl Harding straightened. His eyes flicked out across the crowd and landed on a head of bright blond hair. He frowned. She had fooled everyone with her simpering manners, but she hadn’t been able to hide her quick mind during the Monsieur Herr affair.
“Eyes off my sister, Hades,” Lord Anglethorpe said quietly, laying his hands in fists on his knees in full view. “You’ve been there before. And you tried with my wife.”
Earl Harding shifted in his seat, his shoulders rubbing against that of Lord Granwich. “Where’d the information come from?” he said with a growl.
“The daughter of Mrs. Sumner,” Lord Granwich said quietly.
“The woman who is about to be deported for fraud, and murder?” Earl Harding laughed. “That should be reliable information then. Women never lie,” he said sarcastically. “Where is she now, the daughter I mean?”
Lord Anglethorpe shrugged and stretched his hands. “No one knows. She helped Lord Stanton attempt to trap Edgar and then disappeared. She didn’t take kindly to being duped by her mother.”
“So you say.” Earl Harding stopped speaking as the clapping died away. He half-rose but Lord Anglethorpe put a hand on his shoulder.
“Sit down, Hades.”
“But it’s finished,” he protested.
Lord Anglethorpe shook his head. “No it’s not. There’s an encore.”
Earl Harding flicked out his tail coats and sat back squarely on his chair. “And I thought Lord Stanton was one of our most level-headed coldblooded killers in the war.”
Lord Anglethorpe laughed quietly. “Don’t let Harriet hear you say that. She says he’s got romance in the soul.”
On stage, Mercutio, Romeo and Tybalt lined up for the encore to re-enact the scene of attack that had drawn gasps of amazement from the crowd.
“Bloody hell, it’s good to have you back, James,” Bill said, pushing back his Romeo hat. “With you around hopefully Harriet won’t be able to push us into this too often. I mean Romeo? Whatever was she thinking?”
James laughed, fiddling with his sword. “From what I saw over several nights in Brambridge, I thought that you were born for the part.”
“Perhaps you might be able to control her a bit more in the future. She kicked my shins again yesterday.”
James laughed. “You don’t need to worry, we won’t be here for long.”
“You’re leaving? Why? What about Brambridge Manor? What about me?”
The smile died from James’ face and he looked Bill in the eyes. “I’ll be back to visit my brother. And Harriet’s taken care of you.”
Bill took a step back. “Oh no,” he whispered.
“Quick,” Harriet whispered, pulling a plumed hat onto her head, “onto the stage.”
“Why, oh why, did you allow her to play Mercutio?” Bill moaned.
“She had had enough of playing Tybalt,” James said quietly. He followed Bill onto the stage. As the clapping died away, they took their places.
“Come sir, your passado.” James pulled out the two swords from under his coat and thrust them at Harriet. She smiled and parried, forcing James backwards and forwards. The candles lighting the room glinted off the escaping red hair that curled from under her hat. It was too much to resist. Throwing his swords to the ground, he leapt the distance, under Harriet’s weaving dagger, and pulled the hat from her head. A wave of apple blossom filled his senses.
“Is this a new form of swordplay, my lord?” Harriet said. “You are ruining my play.”
“My lady, I am merely enhancing it.” James pulled her towards him and, molding her body to his, plundered her sweet mouth with his lips.
Drawing back a little, he studied his bride. Her eyes glinted, and an enigmatic smile spread across her face as she glanced at his hand that held her sword hand upwards. He’d seen that vision before. It had watched him for years. “The painting,” he muttered. “It was there in front of me all the time. My lady of the stars, she must have been your grandmother.”
As Harriet’s smile changed to one of puzzlement, James could not resist kissing her again, and again.
A clang of metal resounded behind them as Bill dropped his own sword prop to the ground. “I don’t know why you are not staying in Brambridge,” he said disgustedly, “But please stop it. You are making me feel uncomfortable.”
James drew back from Harriet, and, putting an arm around her shoulder, turned her to face Bill.
“We’re not staying in Brambridge,” he said clearly, “because we no longer have a home here.”
Bill gasped. “But the will, you fulfilled the terms, you have the manor.”
James shook his head. “I signed over the estate to Harriet the day after our wedding. I don’t want it. It’s hers to do what she wants with. I gave Cecilia the mine.”
“So you still have the manor?”
“No.” Harriet stepped forward. “We don’t. But you do.”
“What?”
Harriet slipped a small hand into James’ large palm. “Time to go,” she whispered. “Always make a dramatic exit.” In a louder voice, she said, “The estate is yours. You are a Stanton after all, and older than James too. By rights it is yours.” Pulling at James’ unresisting hand, she led him off the stage and towards the carriage waiting outside the schoolroom to take them to his estates in Kent.
A loud crash resounded behind them. Harriet smiled. It was a fitting revenge.
“I say,” Freddie’s voice cut above the surprised babble of the crowd. “I thought Mercutio was meant to kill Tybalt. What’s Romeo doing on the ground?”
“I rather think,” James murmured to his wife, drawing her in for another kiss, “that he might have fainted.”
Their tale is over, but for others, the story has only just begun…
Before turning the page to read the Prologue to Dangerous Diana the third book in the Brambridge Novels series:
Firstly thank you for reading Burning Bright. I hope you enjoyed it! Please do let me know what you thought by leaving a review at Amazon and/or Goodreads.
If you would also like to know when the latest book in the Brambridge Novels series is available, or when I have other books out, please sign up for my New Release E-mail list. I’ll email only on the day the books are released and at no other time.
Burning Bright is the second book in the Brambridge Novels series. The other books currently available in the series are Somewhat Scandalous, (Burning Bright), Dangerous Diana, Reckless Rules and Maddening Minx. Click on the titles to discover more about them, or visit www.pearldarling.com for my blog, books, and more.
Finally and most importantly, if you'd like to dive straight in to read the prologue of the next book in the series, Dangerous Diana, please turn the page now!
DANGEROUS DIANA
BOOK THREE OF THE BRAMBRIDGE NOVELS
PROLOGUE
Bayswater, London, May 1817
Melissa waited silently in the lane behind the old garden gate. Pulling her hood further over her head, she pushed the brass rims of her cracked spectacles further onto her nose and dropped her bag to the ground.
She drew in a deep breath as a stout woman with white hair made her way unsteadily out of the stable gate of the house opposite and determinedly limped her way to stand in front of her.
“Where have you been for so long?” the woman grumbled.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Hobbs,” Melissa gulped. “I was…we were taking the air on the coast.”
She threw a desperate glance back into the garden behind her where the burnt grass and herbs grew around an old moldering flower press. Pulling her hood even closer round her head, she shivered and dipped her head to look at Mrs. Hobbs through an unbroken part of her spectacles. Oh dear. She couldn’t leave now—behind the woman a queue had suddenly formed, some she knew by sight, Mrs. Wenthrop, and a Mr. Adder. The others, two young men in high quality clothes, were new.
“For six months? Well it’s alright for some. Whilst you were away my husband lost his job because of you.” Mrs. Hobbs stepped closer to Melissa and peered in at the garden. “Cooee. You’ve left this go to wrack and ruin. My Albert could have this up and going in no time. Where’s your mother Eliza?”
Melissa gulped. “Gone.” Bound and chained on a slow boat for deportation for the attempted murder of Lord Stanton. What did Melissa care? Eliza was not and apparently never had been her mother.
“Well, when are you going to set up the apothecary business again? My Albert needs work. If he doesn’t work the landlady says we have to move. And only your herbs make the difference to his stomach pains see?”
“I…err…” I have no intention to…she wanted to say, but the words failed her. The house was going on the market and then she was going to disappear. She’d only stepped outside on a whim, to empty her bag and then be gone. “My… mother gave everything away, my father’s books on plants and animals… and his desk and chair.”
“Melissa! Melissa!”
Melissa started, and looked uncertainly back at the house. Eliza?
“Well I had better be going,” Mrs. Hobbs huffed and turned around. “I’ll send my Albert round.”
“But I…”
“I’d like my usual please.” Mr. Adder stepped smartly up to her, almost treading on Mrs. Hobbs’ swaying skirts. Melissa pulled her bag up in front of her and shuffled backwards. Where had Mrs. W
enthrop gone?
“She’s left.” Mr. Adder turned his head and pointed down the lane before inserting his finger into his very hairy ears and twisting it.
Melissa swallowed as his finger emerged coated in wax. He stared at her unblinking as he stroked his dirty hands along the length of his small moustache. Darting a glance over his shoulder, she searched for a friendly face, but the two gentlemen behind him carried on chatting loudly with little regard for Mr. Adder’s actions.
“And then she just dropped out of sight. Refused all the hands of all those gentlemen, and then trapped Lord Stanton into an engagement through false pretenses.” The taller of the men nodded stiffly as if the woman in question had ensnared Lord Stanton like a spider in a web.
Melissa gasped and knelt over her black bag. A spider? She was no spider! “I… I’ll just get your remedy, Mr. Adder,” she mumbled.
“Did you see her at that last London ball before she appeared in Devon at Stanton’s place?” The shorter gentleman stretched his neck over his cravat and eyed his companion sideways. “Earl Harding said that she played the role of a mute debutante to entrap him. Even called herself Diana. Can you imagine? I say, do you like my carnation? Harding wears them all the time.”
Melissa ducked lower over her bag, rummaging frantically for the last few slips of dried flowers that she knew were in there.
“—Johnnie was very enamored with Regina. Let’s hope this woman can help us. Apparently we’re lucky to find her.”
Melissa froze as her hand closed finally over an old twist of lavender. Oh no. What had she missed? She kept her head low as she stood and handed the lavender to Mr. Adder, hurriedly waving away his offer of money. As he hesitated she held her breath, but with a quick glance over her shoulder at the garden gate, he stalked away with measured steps.
Melissa braced herself as the two gentlemen strode towards her and stared fixedly over her shoulder. “I really wouldn’t visit the Lamb and Flag Inn if I were you,” she said quickly in a low voice. The men started and clutched nervously at their breeches. Ah, so Regina was still in business. “Any more visits and who knows what you might catch.” Swiftly she pulled a bottle of powder out of her bag, the last one that she owned. “Powder ‘down there’ with this. It will stop the lice itching. Then comb out with the smallest comb you have.”
Burning Bright (Brambridge Novel 2) Page 27