A Little Deception

by Beverley Eikli

  She felt the chill through to her bones and glanced fearfully at her surroundings, deserted in the gathering twilight. What was Geoffrey planning? She’d felt frightened in the carriage but had believed she would be freed eventually. Geoffrey had no use for her, after all, she’d reassured herself. He’d be leaving England on the next packet. He had no choice but to flee, but he’d not harm Rose, surely.

  And then he’d bound her wrists with rope and dragged her out of the carriage to this deserted expanse of countryside.

  ‘About as much as Rampton trusted you after you deceived him into marriage,’ muttered Geoffrey.

  Rose turned her head from his unkind grin as he went on, ‘Desire and trust don’t go hand in hand – surely you know that? Cousin Oswald was thieving for Helena on both our accounts, though of course Oswald didn’t know it. If it made Helena feel safer to store some of the booty where no one would find it, why should I care when what we each know binds us to one another as surely as marriage binds man and wife?’

  Pausing to catch their breaths in a clearing, Rose glanced at Geoffrey’s hard profile. She supposed some would consider him a handsome man but loose living was taking its toll while Helena, ten years his junior, was still an exquisite creature.

  Bitterly Rose contemplated how easily Helena had persuaded her to go with Geoffrey so that she could skip away, free from the men who desired and had thieved for her, while she claimed the booty.

  Would Helena seek greener pastures with the jewels Geoffrey was convinced she’d hidden somewhere near by? Choking down her rage at the sister-in-law who’d gone to such lengths to ruin her life, she whispered, ‘If you find her, what will you do?’

  ‘I shall remind Helena that she needs my protection.’ Geoffrey’s look was ugly.

  ‘When my husband finds me all the wickedness you and Helena perpetrated in my name will be revealed.’

  ‘Which is why you’re such a threat, my dear Lady Rampton,” growled Geoffrey, swinging round, ‘since we need time to leave this country without you revealing all.’

  Cursing her stupid bravado as Geoffrey gripped her chin and tilted her face upwards, Rose gulped, ‘I’ll keep your secret.’ She was shaking so much she could barely get the words out. Geoffrey was volatile. She knew him only enough to be certain he’d have little compunction in doing what was required to save his own skin.

  ‘You’ll have to, but the only way to ensure that,’ said Geoffrey, contouring her face without tenderness, before tapping her nose lightly as if she were a child, ‘is to bind you securely to a tree in the midst of the thicket we’ve just come through and leave a note which, we must hope, will be delivered at the appropriate time.’ His lip curled. ‘While I have no particular wish to see harm come to you, my safety is more important to me than yours.’

  Panic charged through her as she glanced at the trees and thick gorse behind them. How would anyone ever find her, if Geoffrey bound her as he threatened? Rampton would believe she had left him. Why should he send out a search party, much less look for her here? With Geoffrey and Helena neatly executing their evil plot he would forever think her guilty of their crimes.

  Weakly, she began, ‘Rampton will—’ but Geoffrey cut her off. ‘Rampton believes you a liar and a thief, my dear.’ He stroked her hair. ‘You’re a pretty thing that caught his fancy but your allure quickly palled when he discovered the depths of your wicked soul.’ He laughed. ‘Poor Rose. Even Dr Horne innocently gave credence to Helena’s diagnosis of your illness of the mind … of the lapses, where a pretty jewel was too hard to resist and telling the truth beyond your capacity.’

  Rose sucked in her breath sharply and twisted her head away from his loathsome touch. Dear Lord, what had they not stooped to? And at her expense. She’d had no idea Helena hated her quite so much. All these years she must have bottled it up, waiting for a chance to have her wicked revenge on the sister-in-law she held responsible for her own blighted happiness.

  Her breath misted in front of her. A bird startled into flight made her cry out but there was not another soul upon the heath to hear her. In the faint mist the trees looked like ghostly spectres of doom. If Geoffrey bound her leaving her helpless in such a remote spot, Rampton might never learn the truth. The forlorn desperation that her life not be cut short here was like a flickering flame, faint but strong enough to sustain her; but more than her safety, Rose wanted her husband to believe in her honesty.

  She felt the rope tug as Geoffrey turned back to the thicket but she stood her ground. New strength surged through her. She’d not give in without a fight. Someone might help her. Someone could possibly be round the next tree, out of sight. Opening her mouth, she was about to utter a shriek when, from the corner of her eye a slight movement caught her attention. She drew in her breath, hope giving her the strength to remain calm as she extended her arm and pointed down the hill.

  ‘I think,’ she managed crisply, ‘you might want to attend to other matters, first.’

  She watched the play of emotions cross Geoffrey’s face as he looked in the direction she indicated.

  In the far distance, near a copse of trees, Helena was wielding a large shovel with surprising expertise. A small pile of dirt rose from beside the hole she was creating.

  Geoffrey measured his response. ‘How observant, Lady Rampton, though congratulations are due to me, also, for my hunch has paid off. You see, I followed her one night after a particularly heated argument.’ He pushed back his handsome curls from his sweating forehead, his delight apparent as he added, ‘Let’s discover Helena’s intentions and who’s included in her little plan, shall we?’

  Stealthily, Geoffrey bore Rose along with him as he descended the hill, approaching Helena from behind. The pain from Rose’s cold, torn feet was nothing compared with her fears for her own future. Helena was ruthless. Rose doubted she’d countenance anything that might jeopardize her escape with the jewels.

  And Rose was the greatest threat of all.

  Above the horizon Rose could see the moon, as if caught in the tree tops. Soon darkness would be upon them. Geoffrey and Helena would have their booty and Rose would be the inconvenient witness. She drew in a shuddering breath and cast about for some means of escape as Geoffrey bore her relentlessly onwards.

  ‘Not a word,’ he hissed, ‘or you’ll be sorry.’

  Rose wasn’t about to do anything to try his already ragged temper. Obediently she followed, despite her fear and the pain of every footstep. In the distance she could see Helena, the folds of her coquelicot pelisse spread about her as she knelt with their back to them.

  Stealthily they continued, halting a few feet away. Geoffrey regarded his erstwhile lover with a mixture of amusement and anger and Rose stiffened in anticipation of the response as Geoffrey’s clipped tones sheared the silence. ‘Well-prepared, as ever, my love, and just in time to make the evening’s tide.’

  It was clear that Helena had not expected to see him. Stifling her gasp as she swung round, she assumed the air of having intended Geoffrey to be a party to her escape plan as she straightened, indicating Rose and saying, ‘What possessed you to bring her along? Couldn’t you have dispatched her?’

  Geoffrey shrugged. ‘Couldn’t find an opportunity. I thought we could tie her up hidden in the trees so we’d be unhindered.’

  Helena’s small white teeth glinted in a parody of a smile. She put her head to one side, as if contemplating the matter and with sinking heart, Rose knew that in Helena’s mind there was nothing to contemplate. Helena would go to almost any lengths to ensure her silence, for Helena’s crimes were sufficient to send her to Newgate.

  Gulping down her terror Rose squared her shoulders and said with an assurance she was far from feeling, ‘Rampton will come before you can harm me.’ In truth, Rampton had never felt further from her.

  ‘Rampton! Little loyalty he’s shown you when you were mad for him from the start, which is so unlike you, my dear.’ With a toss of her head, Helena sliced the shovel she’d ret
rieved from a clump of bushes into the damp earth as she went on, ‘Now you’re learning what pain really is; the pain of separation and of love gone wrong. I hope you’re suffering!’

  She looked beautiful, her dark eyes glittering with a mixture of malice and self pity, her raven hair half tumbling from its coiffure. Rose could understand Geoffrey’s enslavement. She’d lived with Charles and Helena long enough to have observed the pattern Helena used to exert her power. It had been like living with an unrelenting tide of cloying sweetness interspersed with cutting scorn and wheedling requests.

  ‘Not as much as you will be when Rampton learns of your villainy and that I was never once untrue,’ Rose bit back, trying to block from her mind the very great threat that she faced. Her heart cried out to Rampton. He’d been so cold the last few times she’d seen him but if he only knew the truth, would he not love her again?

  Memories of the closeness they’d shared descended upon her like a comforting caress before the chill of fear tore away the warmth.

  ‘So confident, Rose, but I am always one step ahead. Granted, Rampton may learn of my villainy if I have not time to dispose properly of your remains, but when he does it will be too late.’ She swung round to Geoffrey, her voice hard. ‘We must get rid of her.’

  It was small consolation that Geoffrey visibly blanched. ‘Theft is one thing, Helena, but murder—’

  ‘Both carry a death sentence.’

  Rose closed her eyes as she forced strength into her legs to prevent them buckling. Geoffrey’s arguments would carry no weight when Helena was the stronger force.

  ‘Tie me to a tree,’ pleaded Rose. ‘You only need a few hours before you’re on a boat bound for France. No one will find you. You’ll have all the money you need.’

  Helena drew herself up like a cobra about to strike. ‘For as long as I can remember, Rose, you’ve been my nemesis, for all that I’ve been the daring one, the beautiful one.’

  Rose flinched at the venom in her hissed judgement, blinking with disbelief as Helena went on, ‘You hated me enough to condemn me to the worst fate imaginable, damning me in Sir Hector’s eyes after Geoffrey left me.’

  ‘Leave it, Helena!’ The note of warning in Geoffrey’s voice gave Rose hope. He was just behind her and though he was not about to release her, Rose knew he could at least see reason. ‘We had a bitter fight, if you recall, and you told me never to show my face again. You have only yourself to blame.’

  Helena dismissed this with a snort of derision before warming to her theme of highlighting Rose’s role in her own downfall. ‘Because of you, Rose, I was forced to marry Charles. Charles!’ She spat her husband’s name with more hatred than Rose had ever heard. ‘He had not the means to support a wife when he could barely feed his sisters, but did you warn me?’ Helena’s grip on the shovel tightened while her eyes narrowed. ‘Even when you were dowdy Miss Chesterfield in your drab clothes with your hair pulled back I heard the men whisper their interest, but you were too stupid to see how you could benefit us all. Why should I show you any clemency when your inaction ensured that we all remained stuck on that island, condemned to a poverty-stricken existence? When I was destined for so much more?’

  ‘You blame me for all that?’ Rose gasped. ‘So much so that you would see me die?’

  ‘It’s what you deserve for killing my hopes and dreams!’ Helena’s voice rose as she took a step back, readying herself. Poison and hatred radiated from her crimson-clad body as she raised the shovel, its steel edge as well-honed as a fine blade, deadly and merciless when wielded with the force of so much hatred.

  Rose jerked back but the ropes that bound her hands tautened as Geoffrey pulled her in the other direction. To save her? Or better position her? She was imprisoned regardless as her vision wavered and her legs buckled, the sound of fear thundering in her ears.

  So this was how it would finish. Here, in a remote part of Hampstead Heath with her grave already half-dug. A great sob rose in her throat and she tensed in anticipation of the blow, closing her eyes to Helena’s face, twisted with malice, as the blade, sharp and deadly, swished through the air in line with her neck. Her shriek seemed not to come from her as her mind raced through all that had led to this: Helena’s determination that Rose should pay for her perceived sins by sacrificing her happiness, and when that was not enough, her life.

  There was not even the consolation that Rampton knew the truth; that Rose was blameless in all but assuming the role of a married woman. For that, though, he had long ago forgiven her; embraced it, in fact.

  Helena and Geoffrey were about to make off with the family jewels, which Rampton and the rest of the world assumed she had stolen. Not only was she now condemned to death, she was condemned to being a party to a multitude of crimes of which she was innocent yet Rampton would forever consider her a thief and a sinner. The fear thundered in her ears like cannon-fire.

  ‘No!’

  All the desperation and despair at the injustice of such a brutal, heinous act resonated from the one word. The anguished plea for clemency echoed in the void left by the flight of rational thought as she was reduced to a cornered animal facing slaughter. She didn’t want to die. Where was Rampton? Where was her husband? He’d forsaken her, believing every vile lie that had been disseminated yet she still loved him. Perhaps if he knew the truth he’d love her too.

  ‘No!’

  The cry continued to resonate in the chill evening air, its desperate hollow timbre sounding eerily like it belonged to a creature from another world. Going to another world, she thought as she was pushed to the ground, the air knocked from her lungs, her last conscious thought that she’d accept even a loveless existence only life was too precious to be condemned to eternity with a reputation she didn’t deserve burnt into the memories of all those who spoke her name.

  Shock, blackness. She thought she was dead. She thought she was still screaming but she was trapped beneath a body in a coquelicot gown and the scream had taken on a different dimension: shrieks of pain interspersed with disbelieving howls of rage.

  Choking on the acrid smell of gunpowder, Rose struggled beneath the weight of a body slumped over her own.

  Helena?

  ‘In God’s name!’

  She turned her bewildered face to Geoffrey, raising her hands to see them sticky with blood. Not hers? Geoffrey must have….

  But Geoffrey’s face was a mask of horror as he bent over Rose to reach Helena now writhing beside her. Helena had uttered the cry. It came in staccato gasps of horror as she held her hands to her wounded head.

  ‘What has happened to me?’ Her hysteria grew as her bloodied hands revealed part of the answer.

  ‘Rose!’

  A masculine voice sounded from a short distance away. Familiar and comforting. Filled with heartfelt emotion.

  Rose transferred her shocked gaze from the grisly sight of Helena’s mutilated face, to the direction in which Geoffrey now stared as he rose, rapidly fumbling with the knot that bound him to Rose; preparing for his own flight though Rose in that moment had eyes only for her husband.

  And all the fear, shock and horror of the past few hours was replaced by joy at seeing him bounding down the hill, tucking his pistol inside his coat before opening his arms to claim his wife.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  ROSE AWOKE TO the sounds of birds singing and a lively chorus of frogs and insects. Stretching luxuriously on the blanket her husband had laid out for their picnic beside the river, she rolled against his side. Although she could not see his face she knew he still slept. His breathing was deep and even, yet even in sleep, in the middle of an innocent afternoon, he held her as though he’d never let her go. As he had every night since he’d eliminated the greatest threat to Rose’s health and happiness and, when passion spent, he could not keep her close enough.

  Tremors of comforting warmth crept over her as he stirred, turning to stroke her hair.

  ‘It’ll be the last time we can do this,’ she murmured, gaz
ing at the hazy blue sky, conscious that the season was changing and their long rambles by the riverside would come to an end. Rampton, too, would inevitably become less attached to her as familiarity reduced the novelty of their reborn love, she acknowledged in the deepest recesses of her mind.

  ‘What do you mean “the last time”?’

  He was instantly awake now. Leaning over her so he could look into her face he demanded, ‘How can you say anything will be “for the last time”? ‘ His voice was a low, demanding growl while his hands caressed the contours of her cheeks, nose and eyes as if committing them to memory. ‘Has everything we’ve been through not proved how tenuous happiness is … how careful we must be to safeguard it?’ His breathing was heavy, as if he’d been offended by her suggestion.

  ‘I was talking about the weather making this sort of thing no longer possible.’ Rose laughed and reached up to kiss him, pulling him back down beside her. She felt him relax with a slow, satisfied sigh as they both stared up at the sky, holding hands like the lovers they were.

  There was gentle amusement in his voice overlaid with conviction as he warmed to his theme. ‘If we feel like trysting amidst the pouring rain, we should do it. Time is too short to allow convention to prevent us squeezing every last drop of enjoyment from life.’

  Bringing his hand to her cheek, Rose sighed. ‘That was obviously Helena’s philosophy, but look where it landed her.’

  With great reluctance Rampton helped her to her feet. ‘Exactly where she deserves,’ he said, plucking the leaves from Rose’s hair before wrapping his arms about her from behind. ‘And she should consider herself lucky to escape the hangman’s noose.’

  ‘I’m not sure that life with Charles in the West Indies bearing those terrible scars would have been her preferred option.’ Rose shivered, remembering the horror of seeing the blade slice the air in line with her neck.

  ‘It was your life, or Helena’s,’ he reminded her as he began to wind her hair back into some semblance of respectability. ‘Thank God Beth was induced to reveal the exact point where Helena had buried the jewels, and that I got there in time. Now, stay still.’ As he laced her gown, Rose was aware of his shudder as he performed the task of her lady’s maid. Briefly he pressed his cheek to the hollow between her shoulder and cheek. ‘I don’t know how I could have lived with myself if something had happened to you, my darling.’