by Tracy Kay
“I know, but it is important and it can’t wait. I need your advice about Lady Gretchen. I believe Lord Ruxford has asked for her hand, but I don’t think he will do for her at all. I am worried for her,” he explained. “I would rather not talk about this here.” He gestured at the crowded room.
Madeline sighed. Lord Henry wasn’t going take no for an answer. “We can go into the library.” She left the room with Henry following her. “I am not sure how I can advise you, Lord Henry.” She turned to face him as they entered the empty library and she decided to be forthright. “I know that Lady Gretchen isn’t interested in marrying anyone at the moment, not you, and certainly not Lord Ruxford.”
“Yes, I am aware of Lady Gretchen’s feelings,” Henry said, wishing there was a door to the room instead of the open entry way. No matter, everyone was occupied with the party and no one would notice them. “But I intend on having her, regardless of her or her family’s opinion on the matter. I won’t let anyone get in my way.”
Madeline looked at him skeptically. He was acting out of character and it worried her. “Lord Henry, you can’t force . . .”
He cut her off. “I certainly won’t let you interfere with my plans, Lady Madeline. You have caused me enough trouble.”
“What?” Madeline frowned at him. She was confused and she had no idea to what he was referring.
“You interfered with Lady Joselyn,” he explained. “If you hadn’t brought your brothers into it, she would have been mine, and I wouldn’t have to use Lady Gretchen as a replacement. But no, you had to stick your nose into things and get my Joselyn killed.”
“I am sorry you feel that way, Lord Henry. I didn’t get Lady Joselyn killed. It was Farrington and his threats,” Madeline defended herself, perplexed by Henry’s strange behavior.
“You fool,” he sneered. “Farrington was no threat to her.”
“But the land he wanted?” Madeline crinkled her brow in puzzlement. Why did Henry believe Farrington wasn’t a threat? She didn’t understand.
“Farrington wanted the land, but Zachary Parker didn’t die for that. He was planning on selling the land to Farrington. Zachary needed the money because of his debts. I overheard him discussing it with my brother, Roger.” He paused to watch her shocked face, enjoying it as she came to realize the truth. “Zachary had refused my offer for Lady Joselyn. I was a second son and that wasn’t good enough for him. He wanted her to marry a man with a title and wealth. I didn’t have either.” He stated with derision. “It was easy to kill him.” He closed his eyes for a moment, relishing the memory.
He opened his eyes and focused on her before continuing. “Unfortunately, Roger became suspicious and I was forced to kill him, too. That was also easy. I was sorry for my mother, but it put me in a better position.” He shrugged. “I gained my brother’s title and money, and with that, I could have Lady Joselyn. I thought that if Lady Joselyn had no one left to care for her, she would turn to me. It was easy getting rid of the old lady, but I never could find a good way to rid myself of that stupid, younger brother of hers.” He ran an agitated hand through his hair and glared at her with a sneer on his face. “As for Marshall, that buffoon, he was in the way. He wouldn’t leave my Joselyn alone. Lady Joselyn made it so easy for me by accusing Farrington of the murders, and lucky for me, you and your idiot brothers went right along with her.”
“But the notes?” Madeline said. She was shocked and in disbelief that Henry, quiet, unassuming Henry, was a murderer.
He snorted with disdain. “I wrote the notes, except for the last one that lured Lady Joselyn to her death. Pity, I am certain with time Lady Joselyn would have agreed to marry me, but you had to intervene. It is all your fault, Lady Madeline,” he growled at her angrily and took a menacing step towards her. “And now you are meddling with my plans for Lady Gretchen.”
“Lady Joselyn would never have married you. She didn’t care for you and neither does Lady Gretchen,” Madeline explained, shaking her head and taking a step back from him.
“That was your influence, and for it, I must kill you. I can’t have you interfering between Lady Gretchen and myself.” He shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly.
“You won’t get away with this, Lord Henry.” She took another tentative step backwards, a sense of unease over-coming her.
Henry smiled confidently. “But I will. Everyone will think it was Farrington. They have with all the other attempts on your life. And this time, I won’t fail.”
“What . . . what do you mean?” Madeline had a sinking feeling in her stomach.
“The attack at the park was a mistake. I hired underlings to do my work for me. Foolish move. And the shooting,” he grimaced. “If it wasn’t for Farrington’s idiot sons getting in the way, I wouldn’t have missed. That is right,” he said as understanding lighted her terrified eyes. “There were two of us trying to kill you that day. Although, no one knew that but me. It was very convenient of Farrington wanting you dead. A very nice turn of events. You had run away and he followed after you, leaving me time to court Lady Gretchen. That was good. Except her stupid brothers were always getting in the way. I hate them. They will have to die.” He paused, envisioning their deaths, his eyes taking on a dark, blank, faraway cast.
His eyes refocused on her as he wiped the spittle from his lips. “But then you returned and had to mess things up.” He curled his lip in contempt. “You should have been killed by that carriage. It took me time to plan that out, and it was perfect, except I didn’t factor in Lady Gretchen’s heroics. But this time, there will be no hero. Your luck has run out. Everyone is preoccupied with this ridiculous party of yours. Your guests are busy with their gossip, eating, and dancing. No one will miss you until it is too late. When your dead body is found, I will be as shocked as everyone else, and I will be there to help our little, grief stricken Lady Gretchen.”
“That is not true, Lord Henry. I am being missed right now. Someone will be looking for me. Damon and I are expected to dance the first dance together.” She was desperate to stall him to give herself time.
Henry snarled and more spittle formed at his mouth. “So full of yourself aren’t you, the all high and mighty Lady Madeline. Everyone swoons at your feet. Bitch! You aren’t that powerful. You are not that loved. No one is.” He moved towards her, his heart pounding with excitement. He could taste her death. His fingertips itched for it and his body tensed in anticipation of killing her. “I am done talking.”
She took another step back, putting her hand up to ward him off. “Lord Henry, please.”
“It is time for you to die,” he screeched and lunged forward, grabbing her by the throat. His face contorted grotesquely and spit dribbled down his chin. There was a fiendish glint in his eyes and Madeline stared at him in revulsion.
Madeline gripped the wrists of his strong arms and tried to pull them off her. Terror filled her mind and body. She tried to get her breath to yell, but he was crushing her windpipe and she couldn’t get air. The only sounds she could make were useless gasps. How was he so strong? He hadn’t appeared to be so strong. She fought him, but to no avail. Her head was beginning to swim with dark spots impeding her vision. If she didn’t get him off her, she was going to pass out. She tried kicking at him, but he ignored her feeble attempts. The room was going dark and she couldn’t breathe. She pushed at him desperately, but he was relentless and she was helpless. Tears gathered in her eyes. She refused to believe this was the end of her life.
Madeline heard a scream that seemed far away, but it made her look up. What she saw was her beautiful sister with a large, colorful, china vase in her hands. Madeline’s eyes widened at what she knew her sister was about to do. With fear in her heart for her sister’s life, she fought harder, praying she could get Henry off her before he could turn his wrath onto her sister.
Deirdre had seen Madeline and Henry go into the library, so when Brandon told everyone to gather round for a toast, Deirdre had said she would go fetch them. She hadn’t ex
pected the scene before her. Deirdre didn’t take the time think. She reacted. She picked up the china vase that was sitting on a table next to the entryway, and with a loud scream, she smashed it over Henry’s head with all her strength. She watched the vase shatter and watched Henry crumble onto the floor. Deirdre went into the fighting stance Maxine had taught her, ready to fight Henry if he got up.
Madeline fell to her knees, choking and coughing. She looked up at her sister and then at Henry in front of her. He wasn’t moving. “Did you kill him?” She whispered, barely able to get the words out.
Deirdre lifted one shoulder in a shrug as family and friends began pouring into the room. Brandon took Deirdre by the shoulders. “We heard you scream. What happened?” Brandon asked, regarding Henry on the floor as Damon rushed to Madeline’s side. Although his instinct was to go to Madeline, Brandon accepted that it wasn’t his place anymore but Damon’s. Instead, he turned his attention on Deirdre.
“He was strangling Madeline, so I hit him over the head with the vase,” Deirdre explained numbly. “I am not sorry.”
Brandon wrapped her in his arms as she began to tremble in reaction. She buried her face in his chest as sobs overtook her. “Ssh, you don’t have to be. Everything will be all right, sweet,” Brandon murmured in her ear as he held her tight and stroked her hair.
Raven leaned over Henry’s unmoving body and gave a slight shake of his head as he straightened. “He is dead.” He met Brandon’s eyes and a silent message passed between them. Deirdre was going to need their help to deal with her having killed Henry. Her childhood innocence was over. Fortunately, Madeline had Damon to get her through the trauma, but she would still need their support.
“I will notify the authorities and take care of this mess,” Jonathan said quietly.
Brandon caught his eyes with his and nodded. “Thank you, Father,” he acknowledged and watched his father slip out of the room.
After he was convinced she was breathing and she was no longer gasping for air, Damon picked Madeline up, sat in a chair, and cuddled her in his arms. “Madeline, honey, can you breathe? Is your throat all right?”
She nodded and croaked, “He killed Zachary, his brother Roger, Beatrice, and Marshall. He was the one trying to kill me. He wrote the notes. It wasn’t Farrington.”
“Hush, honey,” Damon soothed and tenderly examined her bruised and reddened throat with gentle fingers. “You can tell us everything later.”
Gretchen gazed down at Henry’s dead body and frowned. She turned to Warren who was standing beside her. She balled her small hand into a tight fist and punched him in the stomach as hard as she could, which wasn’t very hard she thought wryly, wishing she was stronger.
Warren let out a grunt, rubbed his stomach, and stared at his sister in consternation. “What did you do that for?”
“For wanting me to marry a killer, you oaf.” She huffed and went to Raven, who put a comforting arm around her. She blinked away the tears in her eyes, and when she leaned against Raven’s powerful body, he wrapped his arms around her, holding her close as he placed a kiss on the top of her head.
Madeline coughed, drawing unwanted attention back to her. “Can I have something to drink, please?” Madeline requested shyly with embarrassment. “I have a terrible sore throat.” Everyone laughed in relief. Madeline was going to be fine.
“Yes, love, you can have something to drink. Let me take you upstairs and you can lie down.” Damon rubbed her back soothingly.
“I would like to examine you, sweet,” Brandon added. “I will make up a tea that will soothe your throat and ease any pain.”
“The tea would be nice, Brandon. But no, I don’t want to lie down,” she said resolutely to the two fussing men. “This is our wedding celebration, Damon, and I am not letting the likes of . . .” she pointed towards Henry, “that ruin it for us.” Again, there was laughter as Madeline gathered herself together with determination and stood. With the support of Damon’s arm, she left the room and the horror that was Henry Cummings behind.
Damon lightly stroked Madeline’s neck as she snuggled against him as they lounged in the large bed they shared. “It has been quite the evening, hasn’t it, honey?”
Madeline nodded, rubbing her cheek against his chest and twirling the hair there with her fingers. “I still can’t believe it was Lord Henry. He had us all fooled. I thought he was our friend.”
Damon brushed away the tear that trailed down her face. “I know, baby. It is over now and you can move on.” He tenderly kissed the top of her head.
“Poor Deirdre. She will have to live with having killed him.” Madeline sighed, wondering how her young sister was going to recover.
“Brandon will take care of her, honey. I believe she is tougher than anyone thinks,” Damon reassured her. He knew that Brandon hadn’t left Deirdre’s side all night, helping her get over the ordeal, and Conrad and Raven were staying close by to assist the Cathcarts and the Malanys in processing Henry’s murderous duplicity and his death.
“I know she is, but still . . .” She trailed off, worried about her sister. “This is my fault. If I had only known that Lord Henry was . . . the killer, then we wouldn’t have suspected Farrington and he wouldn’t have killed Joselyn. If only I had . . .”
Damon put a finger to her lips to stop her words. “Ssh, Madeline. None of this was your fault. Henry owns this. He did the killing. He brought in Farrington. He wrote the notes using Farrington’s name. It was only natural that we would suspect him. Perhaps Henry didn’t foresee Farrington using this as an opportunity to get his revenge on Brandon, but he did. And Farrington did kill Joselyn and he was a threat to you. He still may be a threat.” He caressed her hair, neck, back and arms with slow, easy strokes, encouraging her to relax. They had a long and traumatic day and they both needed some rest.
“If only I hadn’t shot him, then maybe Joselyn would still be alive.” She sniffed back the unshed tears. She was trying so hard not to cry.
Damon sighed. “Madeline, her death is not your fault. You need to stop blaming yourself. Farrington will be punished for the things he has done. The papers Alfred gave you about his father’s operations with the orphanages will be investigated, and Brandon will see to it that the proper authorities are notified.” He brushed her hair off her face and wiped away the tears that slid silently down her cheeks. He held her close as the loss of her friend and all the events that led up to Henry’s demise overcame her. He stroked her back and hair tenderly as she cried against his shoulder. “Ssh, it is all right, baby,” he soothed, relieved that she was finally letting out all the emotion she had been holding inside.
When her tears had subsided, he gently sat her up and retrieved a handkerchief for her. After she had blown her nose and dried her tears, he drew her back into his embrace. “Put this all behind you for we have better things to think about.”
“Like what?” Madeline asked with a knowing smile and gave one last sniffle.
He tweaked her red nose and wiped away the last stray tear. “Like how I am going to make slow love to you for the next few hours.” He grinned, rolling her under him and kissing her deeply.
When he ended the kiss, she sighed and tangled her hands into his thick, silky, brown hair. “Oh, now, this is the way to end an evening.”
Flashing Madeline his dimples, Damon chuckled before taking her breath away.
EPILOGUE
Raven took deep, calming breaths and concentrated on the ebb and flow of the activities on the Deliverance, noting where every crew member and visitor was on the ship. He focused on the rocking movements and the creaking sounds of the vessel. His black hair was still damp from a hot bath and his body was loose. Raven relaxed with his eyes half-closed and lay bare-chested in Conrad’s large bed in the captain’s cabin. He slowly allowed his mind to move into a meditative state, releasing the tension of the last few days. He smiled with pleasure when he sensed the arrival of two of his favorite people coming aboard the Deliverance. He relaxe
d further and deeper into his meditation and waited for his friends to seek him out when they were ready.
Raven lazily glanced up when Brandon entered the room and studied him for a long moment. “You look tired,” he observed.
“I am.” Brandon nodded tiredly in agreement. “Am I intruding?” He recognized the signs of Raven’s meditation and didn’t want to interrupt.
“No.” Raven gestured at the bed. “Sit.”
Brandon entered the room and sat on the edge of the bed. “It has been a difficult few months.”
“That it has,” Raven agreed with a slight smile. “Come. Lie beside me.”
Brandon hesitated. Over the years, Raven’s unique gift had only gotten stronger, and Brandon respected him and his abilities, but it had been a long time since he had allowed Raven to use those skills on him. Even though he was close friends with Raven, Brandon wasn’t so sure he wanted him using his magic on him. “It has been a long time, Raven.”
“Humor me.” Raven gestured at the empty space next to him.
Brandon nodded, pulled off his boots and stretched out next to his friend, putting his arms above his head. “Happy now?”
Raven grinned smugly. “Very.” He had observed Brandon’s hesitation and was amused by it. He understood Brandon’s reluctance to allow him to use his powers on him. It was unsettling having a friend who could manipulate others’ thoughts and feelings. At times, it was unsettling being able to do it. Raven knew Brandon had his own unique abilities, but he wasn’t as aware of them as Raven was of his. In time, Brandon would be as powerful as he was, but in different ways, and only when Brandon was open to accepting them and using them. Raven intended on helping him with that.
After a few minutes of companionable silence, Brandon said, “Simon tells me you have been spending time with Gretchen.”
“Hmm, she is special.” Raven smiled at the mention of Gretchen.