The Rogue's Revenge

by Lucy E. Zahnle

  "You may safely confide in me if you wish, Miss Lannington," he said as he settled into his chair.

  "It is all very silly, really," she said. "I've been wondering if Her Grace would even be lying in this bed, injured and unconscious, if I hadn't been so foolish and improper as to pursue an assignation."

  "Assignation?" Peter leaned toward Concordia and green eyes met black.

  "At the ball, I received a message from someone... The note was unsigned and I thought it was from you. I went out to meet you and found Mountheathe instead. That is how this nightmare started. It has ended with my reputation in tatters and a sweet, brave woman hovering between life and death."

  "Miss Lannington... Concordia! None of this is your fault. Mountheathe and his crony, Rochedale, are the villains here." Peter stretched his hand across the chair arms to cover hers. "As for your reputation, this scandal makes no difference to me. I know that you are innocent of wrong-doing and I...I... Dash it all! I want you to be my wife, Concordia! Will you have me as a husband?"

  He had never intended to tumble into his proposal like a schoolboy rolling down a hill. He had wanted to plan this moment; to fill it with moonlight and tenderness and romance,... but there! It was done!

  He watched her face anxiously. Her lips pursed and he was certain they were framing a refusal. Falling on one knee beside her, he recaptured her fluttering white hand. "You have undoubtedly heard some shocking tales of my personal conduct, Concordia, and they are mostly true, I fear, but that will change when...if you become my bride." Gazing into Concordia's sweet countenance, his heart swelled. "I love you, Concordia!"

  She stared down into those sparkling ebony eyes. "You would still marry me after I've spent four days solely in Lord Mountheathe's company?"

  "I love you, Concordia, and I want to wed you, regardless of Bridland's machinations." Peter hesitated as a sudden dreadful possibility occurred to him. "I say! That blackguard didn't ...er... force himself on you or...or..., did he? I'll tear him limb from limb!"

  "No!" She blushed. "I struggled and fought him too much for that."

  "That's my girl!" he grinned, sobering as he searched her eyes. "You do love me, don't you, Concordia?"

  "Oh, yes!" she blurted, beguiled by the earnest tenderness in his gaze, but then she tried to regain safer ground. "That is,... love is such a...a subjective word."

  Standing, Peter pulled her to her feet and clasped both her hands in his. "Marry me, Connie! Your uncle has given me his permission. It only awaits your decision."

  "Oh, but this is so sudden and...and unexpected," she murmured, her face pink. Glancing at Peter's lifted brow and laughing eyes, she abandoned her reticence. "Yes! Oh, yes! Of course, I shall marry you. I've been waiting and praying for you to speak for a fortnight, but you were so distant that I had almost given you up."

  "I thought... That is... You seemed to prefer Bridland's company."

  "Oh, my love, when I thought I couldn't have you, I decided that Lord Mountheathe was better than...than having no husband at all."

  Peter scooped her into his arms. "I would argue, my dear, that having no husband at all would be far better than wedding Lord Mountheathe!"

  "I realized that, too, after he offered for me. When you found us together in Aunt Valeria's garden, and then stalked off, thinking the worst, I was sure that I had lost you." Snuggling into his embrace, she laid her head on his shoulder.

  "I don't surrender the woman I love that easily!" he murmured as his mouth caressed hers. He raised his head suddenly and stared down at her, frowning. "I don't recall 'stalking off'!"

  A moan from the bed brought the lovers back to a sense of their surroundings. Concordia hastened to Lucia's side. "Your Grace! Wake up!" she called, patting the duchess's hand. Lucia's black lashes fluttered and her eyes opened. She smiled uncertainly at Concordia as Peter said, "I'll summon Amberley."

  ***

  "You speak as if you believe Lucia and I have a future, Tracy." Robin's voice echoed bitterly through the private parlor.

  "Well, I do believe it. You said yourself that you love her. I think you and she have a very good chance for happiness if you'll stop circling each other like a pair of prize-fighters!"

  Robin crossed to a table laden with decanters and filled a glass with brandy. "Every time I've loved, my lord, I've lost. Any gamester worth his salt will tell you that when your luck is out, you walk away from the game. I'm not green enough or brave enough to dare Dame Fortune again."

  "But Robin..."

  "You can have no idea how much love has cost me, Tracy! I spent ten miserable years grieving the loss of my family! And for what? A misguided attempt to rescue a woman who had spurned me; a woman who didn't even have the courage to speak up and clear my name!" Robin gulped his brandy. "Thank God Lucia has some backbone. I can't abide a helpless female!"

  "Valeria was drugged!" Tracy said, his eyes snapping. "And what the devil has all that to do with you and the duchess?"

  Robin continued as if he hadn't heard Tracy's outburst. "Then treacherous Cupid led me to ma chère Angelina. My angel from hell! Loving her almost killed me. Literally!" With a derisive laugh, Robin downed the rest of his brandy and refilled his glass. Ambling over to a padded chair, he slumped into it. "And now, in spite of all my precautions, it's happening again. I don't want to fall in love anymore, Tracy!" Robin stared into his swirling brandy as if he saw a haven beneath its tiny waves. "I can't put myself through that torture again!"

  "But Rogue! Love is wonderful with the right woman. For instance, Val and I..."

  "Lucia is just as miserable as I am in this marriage. While I am yearning for her, she's pining for Norworth. If I leave, at least one of us will be happy."

  "Do you honestly think that packing Her Grace off to Lynkellyn Castle with a potential lover while you run away to France with your tail between your legs is going to solve your problems? Damned cowardly, I call it."

  Robin reddened. His eyes flashed with anger as they met Tracy's, but he answered levelly. "I am giving Lucia her freedom. She's pleaded for it from the moment I placed my ring on her finger."

  "You haven't told her what's in your heart, Rogue!"

  "And I never will." Robin drained his glass with finality.

  "If she's so eager to be free of you, why did she risk her life to save yours? With you dead, she would have had both wealth and freedom. Instead, she threw herself in the path of death for you, Rogue, without a second thought. That was a spontaneous and selfless act of love, I'd stake my reputation on it! It's not every day a man finds a woman who...who loves him like that! If you think she still wants her freedom, you're a fool and if you give it to her, you're...well, you're dicked in the nob! That's all I have to say!"

  Robin rose and wandered to a window to stare out at the rainy, grey sky. "She deserves a good and worthy man, Tracy; a 'parfit gentell knight'; someone better, kinder... someone more honorable than I shall ever be."

  Tracy stared at Amberley, confused. "What?"

  "She'll need a man with the strength and patience to curb her more headstrong starts; someone who will cherish and protect her. Norworth has a will to match hers and he'll never intimidate or terrify her the way I have. He will do until she can find a more suitable...lover." Robin's voice cracked as he uttered the last word.

  "Haven't you been listening to me, Rogue? She loves you! She was willing to lay her life down for yours!"

  "She'd still be safe in Saddewythe's schoolroom if I hadn't taken her! My wretched quarrels have placed her in danger too many times, Tracy! She has suffered a thousand indignities at my hands and now it is time to make amends."

  "I don't believe most people would consider abandonment a way of making amends, Robin. She needs you!"

  Amberley gave a wild, bitter laugh. "Nom de nom, Tracy! I'm the last thing she needs! At Saddewythe Manor, she had found a peaceful haven, free of hunger and strife, and, with one wanton, selfish act, I destroyed it! Destroyed her life! Mon Dieu, for all I've cleared
my name, I'm no better than Bridland where Lucia is concerned."

  "There is one major difference, my friend. You are eaten up with remorse over your actions. Giles has never shown the slightest shame about any of his. Indeed, he's been gloating over the fact that Lucia hasn't awakened yet."

  Robin shrugged and shook his head. "People will remember my wicked deeds, Tracy, not the fact that I regretted them. Lucia recalls every miserable moment she's spent in my company, je vous assure. How could she possibly forgive the atrocities I've committed against her? How could she love the man who had perpetrated such crimes?"

  "Women have a great capacity for forgiveness, Rogue. You and I may find it impossible to pardon certain acts... Mountheathe, for instance, will always have my undying loathing and contempt! ...but I think that, against all logic, Lucia has found it in her heart to forgive you." Tracy glanced slyly at his friend. "Of course, you will never know for certain unless you ask her."

  Peter suddenly burst into the room, breathless and beaming. "Lucia is awake!"

  Tracy and Robin rushed past him through the door, Robin pushing ahead of the others and taking the stairs two at a time. Grinning, he entered Lucia's chamber to discover Concordia holding a glass of water to her lips. Lucia looked up, smiling.

  Concordia moved aside and Robin knelt by the bed, cradling one of Lucia's bandaged hands in his. "Ma chérie, how are you feeling?"

  "A little weak, Robin, but I am so glad we are all together and safe. Is my baby...? Oh! I felt a kick!" She touched her belly, beaming.

  "The doctor says that both you and the babe will prosper if you rest and don't go gallivanting off on any more adventures!" Robin's gentle tones belied the severity of his scold. "I've sent for Lady Easterbury to attend you and she should arrive in a few days. Until then, the rest of us will try to make you comfortable as best we can."

  "Concordia tells me I have been asleep for two days, Robin. What happened after you disarmed Lord Mountheathe? I can't seem to remember..."

  "He tried to shoot me, ma chérie. You stepped into the path of the ball and saved my life." Robin's face grew stern. "I am extremely grateful, naturellement, but if you ever do such an addle-pated thing again, I really will have to lock you in the North Tower! What could Ilya have been thinking to let you leave after I specifically..."

  Peter and Tracy had entered the room while Robin was talking. They stood by the door, watching the exchange between the couple interestedly.

  Lucia held up a gauze-wrapped hand. "Don't blame Ilya! I deceived him and ran away."

  "You have been wandering the countryside alone, dressed as a gypsy?!" Robin vacillated between fury and shock. "How am I to protect you if you persist in..."

  "I told you I can take care of myself, Your Grace!" Lucia flung back with asperity. "I've been doing so my entire life. I was not the one about to be lynched by an angry mob at the 'Wild Rose', after all."

  Robin blinked in surprise. "How do you know about that?"

  "Because, dear heart, I set the fire in the stables, stampeded the horses, and raised the cry. It was a diversion to give you a chance to escape."

  "You should have waited for us."

  "And have you send me straight back to Ilya?"

  "You would have been safe with him. You would have avoided...all this." Robin waved his hand toward her bandages.

  "I would much rather be here. I had to help you bring Mountheathe to justice, don't you see? After all he's done to us, I deserved to..." She suddenly halted in mid-sentence. "Where is your cousin, Robin? You have not killed him?"

  "Norworth wounded him when he shot you, but he will live. When he is stronger, I shall send him home to Heathe Manor to recover." Robin brushed a dusky curl out of Lucia's eyes. "I've had all the revenge I can stomach, ma chérie. I do not intend to pursue this business any further. It has proven disastrous for everyone."

  "Giles is unmasked, Lucia," Tracy said from the back of the room. "When we return to London, Peter and I shall make certain the world knows the injustice he has done Robin and the sort of man he really is. He shall not hurt you again."

  "Is there anything I can do for you, ma chérie?" Robin said, rising. "Perhaps you would like to sleep?"

  Lucia struggled to sit up, her face twisting with pain. "Actually, I'm famished!" she said after pausing a moment to recover. "I'd love something to eat!"

  ***

  The Countess of Easterbury arrived five days later, trailing in her wake Lady Malkent, Lady Blayne and Sir William, who had been dragooned into escorting the ladies as protection from bandits.

  "As if I could do anything to a man who was waving a loaded pistol in my face!" Sir William leaned his elbows on a table in the taproom of the Crown and Thistle, grimacing at Malkent and Lynkellyn who sat with him.

  "Did you meet with trouble on the road?" Robin asked as Tulley placed a tankard of ale before him.

  "No, thank heaven! The closest thing to a brigand we met was the gossip at some roadside inn about two highwaymen shot to death. The speculation was that one of their thieving companions killed them for their ill-gotten booty," Blayne said.

  "Hear! Hear!" Malkent lifted his tankard. Robin met it with his own and a satisfied grin. Blayne stared at them, confused.

  "A secret within the family," Amberley said. "Lucia has been confessing to a large number of...er...escapades of late. It seems she left several dead bodies strewn behind her in her eagerness to clear my name."

  His curiosity whetted, Sir William demanded and got a full account of the entire adventure. The men talked until the two countesses and Lady Blayne returned from the sickroom to exclaim at how wonderfully Lucia was progressing. The weary travelers then took themselves off to their rooms to recuperate from their journey.

  "Well?" Tracy asked after the taproom emptied of all save himself and the duke. Robin lifted an inquiring brow, but said nothing.

  "It has been a sennight. Lucia is well into recovery. The doctor says she may go up to the Castle anytime. You spend hours with her everyday, yet you never say anything to the purpose. Don't you think you should talk to her soon? Even if you're set on this asinine flight to France, she needs to know your plans. But I still think you should tell her how you feel." Seeing Valeria at the foot of the stairs, Tracy rose. "Pardon me, Robin. I think Val needs assistance."

  As Tracy left the taproom, Robin glowered into the darkness of his tankard, cringing at his own cowardice. He would rather face the entire British Army single-handedly than walk upstairs and pour his heart out to the woman who had unwittingly captured it; who had the power to crush it if she chose.

  He looked up to see Lord and Lady Malkent in earnest conversation on the stairs. The softness and warmth in their voices suggested a fine and comfortable friendship layered over quiet depths of passion. As Tracy escorted Valeria upstairs, Robin watched them enviously, wishing, yearning, hungering for that kind of happiness with Lucia. That, however, would involve opening his heart to the pain again. He clasped both hands around his tankard to lessen their trembling and took a long, soothing draught of ale.

  Tracy's words echoed in Robin's mind. '...Threw herself in the path of death for you... A spontaneous and selfless act of love!...' Perhaps Tracy was right, he thought. Perhaps Lucia had come to care for him a little. Sometimes she looked at him, smiled at him in such a way...

  Draining his tankard, Robin contemplated those enchanted moments when he had held Lucia in his arms and she had welcomed his caresses, meeting them with wild, hungry kisses of her own. Passion and love had flamed in those kisses and she had yielded to him totally, body, mind, and soul, unwittingly slashing through the last shreds of his resistance and conquering his reluctant heart.

  Those memories propelled him to his feet. Even the intruding nightmare of their last vicious argument the night before her disappearance could not diminish his sudden conviction that she loved him. He gathered his courage, took a deep breath, and headed for Lucia's room.

  As he stepped on the first stair, An
gelina's tormenting laughter swirled through his mind, bringing back all the pain of her betrayal, and his feet lagged. His love for Angelina had been a boy's passing fancy. His love for Lucia was a man's eternal devotion. How much more agonizing, then, if Lucia rejected him, crushing his fragile heart beneath her heel as she had every reason to do. With one foolish question that he had no right to ask in the first place, he might lose her. The terror of that prospect intensified with every step until he clung to the rail, struggling just to breathe. Finally he halted half way up the stairs. 'Perhaps if I don't ask the question,' he thought, 'I won't have to hear the devastating answer.'

  He almost turned around, but then, disgusted at his cowardice, he banished his demons and forced his feet to take the remaining steps. He had almost reached her open door, when an anguished cry halted him just out of sight of those in the room.

  "I cannot bear it, Peter! You must kill him for me!" Robin heard Lucia beg.

  "Patience, my dear. It will all be over soon and he shall never plague you again," Norworth's deeper voice answered.

  Robin heard a few thumps in the room, then Lucia said, "He terrifies me, my lord! I know that I shall have nightmares that he's coming after me."

  "I will dispose of him, Lucia, never fear. When I've finished with the blackguard, the fact of his very existence will be in doubt!"

  "You are so brave, Peter! So gallant! If only I had your courage..."

  Standing outside the door, Robin had heard enough. He swallowed hard on his disappointment as the heartbreak he had dreaded and feared writhed inside him. Far from loving him, Lucia was plotting his murder with her paramour. How stupid he had been to dream of love like some starry-eyed fool when he deserved only hatred and contempt from his bride. With his cruelty and selfishness, he had driven her to the point of desiring his death. His shoulders sagging, he trudged away, determined to give Lucia her freedom before she and Norworth got the chance to ease him into the next world.

  In Lucia's room, Peter was on his hands and knees, searching under a chair. "What makes you think it's a 'he', Your Grace?" he grunted as he stood, then bent to look beneath the washstand.