by Tracy Grant
Sherry turned his horse in at the gates of Shepton, but instead of galloping down the drive toward the house, he headed across the fields and over an ornamental bridge spanning a small stream to the oak coppice which stood on the edge of the grounds. He was forced to go more slowly here, for the path was narrow and he was less certain of his way. He had only visited the cottage once or twice.
The air was cooler beneath the trees and the late afternoon light was filtered through a curtain of moss-covered branches. Sherry glanced from side to side, remembering the cottage was almost invisible from the path, uncertain which way to strike off. Uncertainty galled him and he was nearly ready to go tearing through the underbrush in any direction whatsoever when he caught a glimpse of lichen-covered gray stone in the narrow gap between two massive tree trunks.
Barely suppressing a cry of triumph, Sherry urged his tired horse off the path. He rode a few yards closer to the cottage, then swung down and tethered his horse to a convenient branch. Pushing impatiently at the underbrush, he strode across the damp, mulchy ground. Only when he reached the edge of the small clearing in which the cottage stood did he stop and glance about.
The cottage was as he remembered it, a squat stone building with a sloping tile roof and large casement windows framing a wooden door. Sherry crossed the dozen or so feet to the door and tried the handle. It was locked. He moved to one of the windows and looked in at the cottage's outer room.
There was no sign of Talbot or the women. A mahogany table, topped by a large Chinese vase, stood just below the window. A thick Wilton carpet covered the floor. Two leather-covered chairs stood before the stone fireplace. A glass-fronted cabinet held an array of crystal and bottles. All the amenities. Once Sherry had thought it very clever of Talbot to have devised such a retreat. Now he felt a desire to smash everything in sight.
A door on the opposite side of the room led to the bedroom. If he was right, the women would be locked in there and Talbot would be back at the house. Sherry wound his handkerchief round his hand and punched his fist through the windowpane. The glass shattered with a muffled but satisfying crack. He reached inside and unfastened the casement latch, then hoisted himself up onto the window ledge. But as he climbed over the ledge onto the table inside, his booted foot met something solid. Before he realized what was happening, the Chinese vase went crashing to the floor. A moment later, the door from the inner room burst open.
"What the devil do you think you're doing?" Bob Colborne demanded. He pulled the door to behind him, but not fast enough to drown out a woman's scream.
At the sound of the scream, something exploded in Sherry's head. If he could not take his anger out on Talbot, Talbot's batman was the next best thing. Heedless of the gun clutched in Colborne's hand, Sherry jumped off the table and flung himself forward with a cry of fury. He heard a sharp report, and then a burning pain ripped through his side. He had a moment to think that he had bungled again before he lost consciousness for the second time that afternoon.
For the past two hours, Adam had willed himself to numbness. To feel anything would be to open the floodgates on a tidal wave of fear and rage and desperation. He and Hawkins sat in silence. Adam kept his eyes on the road ahead, racing the curricle past slow vehicles, turning automatically at crossroads. Speech seemed a waste of effort. They needed all their energy for what lay ahead.
They had had to stop once to ask for directions to Shepton. Now they were nearly there. Adam felt himself coiling within, preparing for the coming confrontation.
"That must be it," Hawkins said suddenly as they came round a bend in the road. He gestured toward an ivy-covered stone gateway to the right, overshadowed by the spreading branches of an enormous oak.
Adam forced his hands to ease on the reins as he turned the curricle through the gateway. A few yards farther, a few minutes more. They could not afford to make a single blunder. The tree-lined drive was interminable.
At last they reached the house. It looked deceptively still and tranquil, but the gravel circle before it showed recent marks of hooves and wheels. "Do we hide the carriage?" Hawkins asked as Adam reined in the horses.
Adam shook his head. "I'd rather have it available for a quick escape."
They tethered the horses to. the nearest of the lime trees which lined the drive. "No sign of Sheriton's horse," Hawkins said as they started toward the house. "Do you think he's here?"
"I don't know," Adam said, scanning the windows for any sign of movement. "But we can't count on his help."
"God's teeth, I've worked with you long enough to know we can't count on anything," Hawkins returned.
Adam managed to give a faint grin. "Stay well behind me," he said. "With luck, Rawley won't be expecting you."
Hawkins nodded. They climbed the stairs and Adam pushed open the massive front door, aware that his breathing had quickened despite his best efforts to the contrary. A long, eerily quiet hall stretched before them. There was no sign of servants and no sign of Talbot or the women or Sheriton. Adam walked forward a few feet and stood still for a moment. The only sound was the rattle of the afternoon breeze against the windowpanes. Adam gestured for Hawkins to follow him.
A dark wooden staircase rose upward to the first floor. There were doors at either side of the hall and a pair of double doors at the back. Adam hesitated. Anyone in the rooms at the front of the house would have seen them approach. He glanced at Hawkins and jerked his head toward the double doors, then walked toward them. Hawkins flattened himself against the wall. Adam seized the door handles and flung the doors open.
He heard Caroline's cry, a mixture of fear and relief, a moment before he saw her. She sprang to her feet as he entered the room. She had removed her bonnet and sweat-dampened tendrils of hair clung to her forehead. Adam's eyes moved over her, searching for signs of injury, but though there were shadows of strain on her face, she appeared unhurt. It was only when he was satisfied of this that he noticed Talbot standing by the French windows. And then he realized there was no one else in the room.
"Where's Emily?" Adam asked, his voice sharp with the worry he could not suppress.
"Talbot sent her and Elena away." Adam could see the aguish in Caroline's eyes, but she spoke quickly as if she was afraid Talbot would interrupt her. "Bob Colborne's with them. He has a gun. So does Talbot."
Adam pulled the doors shut behind him, so that Hawkins would be able to slip from the house unseen. Adam knew he would go in search of Emily and Elena. "Afraid you couldn't handle all the women on your own, Rawley?" Adam asked, looking Talbot full in the face for the first time. "What have you done with Emily and Mrs. Muros?"
Talbot was staring at Adam, an expression of genuine surprise on his face. "By God," he exclaimed, "I should have guessed. You're the father of her bastard, aren't you?"
Rage tightened Adam's throat. "And if I am?" he asked evenly. "Does that change anything?"
"Let's say it simplifies things for me." Talbot stepped forward. He had been standing with the sunlight at his back. Now, as he moved away from the windows, Adam saw the reckless glitter in his eyes. "I have a double hold over you, Durward. Your mistress and your brat."
"Caroline?" Ignoring Talbot, Adam held out his hand to her. "Let's go."
He had very little faith that it would work. He was right. As Caroline stepped forward, Talbot pulled a gun from beneath his coat and leveled it at Adam.
"Well," Adam said. "At least now all the cards are on the table. What do you want from me, Rawley?"
"Your silence."
"And if I give it?" Adam asked.
The barrel of the gun shone steadily. Talbot might be reckless, but his hands did not waver. "I intend to take it," he said.
Caroline gave a sharp cry. Adam folded his arms and leaned against the closed doors. He had convinced Leighton to talk with lies. His only hope was to do the same with Talbot. "It won't do you much good," he said, holding Talbot's gaze with his own. "Leighton confessed the whole to Castlereagh this afternoon."
/>
Fear leapt in Talbot's eyes. The sunlight flickered against the barrel of the gun. "You're lying," he said. "Leighton wouldn't talk."
"Not at first," Adam,-agreed. "But when I told him he'd been an accessory to treason he was eager to clear his name."
The color drained from Talbot's face. "I don't believe you."
Adam shrugged. "Suit yourself. But if you kill me, you'll have one more crime to explain away."
"And one less witness to talk against me." Talbot tightened his grip on the gun and his eyes hardened with resolution. "You're a good liar, Durward, but I don't think you've talked to Castlereagh yet. And the more you know, the more imperative it is that I get rid of you."
"No!" Caroline ran forward, putting herself between the two men before Adam could stop her. "Do you expect me to keep quiet?" she demanded. "Or are you planning to kill me as well?"
Talbot had the grace to look uncomfortable. "No, I don't think that will be necessary now," he said. "With Durward gone, no one will be likely to believe you."
The fact that he had enough conscience to sound relieved only increased Adam's fury. He put his arm round Caroline and pulled her tight against him. He could feel the rapid beating of her heart.
"Don't be so sure," Caroline told Talbot. "Your family may be angry with me, but they won't be willing to sanction muder."
"Perhaps not. But they also won't take the word of a woman who's known to be Durward's paramour and the mother of his bastard. Besides, when Durward disappears, it will look like confirmation that he's a spy.
"Oh, I'm going to disappear, am I?" Adam said, calculating the chances of success if he leapt at Talbot and made a grab for the pistol. "Planning to dump the body in a nearby river? There'll be the devil of a lot of blood if you shoot me in here, you know."
"You underestimate me, Durward," Talbot said.
"On the contrary." Adam moved in front of Caroline, shielding her with his body. He'd have surprise on his side. Talbot might be able to get a shot off, but he wouldn't have time to aim well. But even as Adam coiled himself to spring, he heard heavy footsteps and muffled voices in the hall outside.
"Who did you bring with you?" Talbot demanded, tightening his finger on the trigger.
"It must be friends of yours," Adam said. Hawkins wouldn't make that kind of racket.
Talbot swore, savagely, under his breath. "I advise you both to do as I say. Remember, I still have the child."
There was no time for any of them to say more. The doors swung open, bringing a draft of cold air from the hall. Adam turned as Talbot's brother strode into the room, closely followed by his father and uncle.
"Good God," Edward exclaimed, taking in the scene before him. "Caroline? Durward? What the devil is going on here?"
Caroline stepped toward him. "Talbot is threatening to kill Adam." She looked at Talbot, as if daring him to deny it.
"Well, I should certainly hope I am," Talbot said. The worry of a few moments before was gone and somehow the pistol had disappeared. He looked from his brother to his father and uncle. "I've just learned that Durward debauched my cousin's wife and passed the fruit of his lust off as Jared's child. I've done what any Rawley worthy of the name would do under the circumstances. I've challenged him to a duel."
Chapter Twenty-four
There was a moment of intense quiet. Caroline heard a sudden intake of breath, but she knew it could not be her own. She had stopped breathing.
She turned her head and looked at the three newly arrived Rawleys. Lord Anandale seemed deeply shocked and then the shock was replaced by a look of revulsion. Lord Granby's face showed no expression at all, though his body was still and tense, as though he did not know which way he might have to jump. Edward looked dismayed and uncertain.
"He's taken Emily from me," Caroline said, wanting to make this one fact irrefutably clear. "Emily and my friend Mrs. Muros. His man Colborne took them away at pistol point."
Granby raised his brows. "Was that necessary?"
"Damn it all, Colborne's a soldier." Talbot paused, then spoke in a calmer voice. "He's taken them to the gamekeeper's cottage. They'll be perfectly safe there. I wanted them out of the way while I settled things with Durward."
Caroline allowed herself a small breath of relief. There, he had said it, before three witnesses who would hold him to his claim. He would not dare harm Emily now.
She looked at the three newly arrived men. Their attention was now on Adam. They must be told the story of what Talbot had done: his attempts on her life in Spain, his accusations against Adam, the men he had set to following Adam and herself. But Caroline knew that none of them, even Edward, would believe her. They had drawn together against Adam, the outsider, the man who didn't belong. She felt the welling of hysteria and forced it down. It occurred to her that they wouldn't have minded so much if she had betrayed Jared with one of their own. With Sherry perhaps. They would have been angry, but they would have understood.
It was Edward who responded to Talbot's last words. "You can't fight a duel. It's illegal."
Anandale turned on him. "There are questions of honor, sir."
"Honor be damned," said Edward with sudden passion. "Have you thought what will happen if Durward is injured? If he's killed?"
"If he's injured he'll know enough to keep his mouth shut. If he's killed it's no more than he deserves."
"Thank you," Adam murmured. No one but Caroline seemed to hear him.
It was such a farce they were playing out. Caroline knew Adam had no intention of fighting a duel. He abhorred guns. Adam, she wanted to say, let's walk away from here. Talbot won't dare stop us now. Let's find Emily and Elena and drive away as fast as we can.
But something in his eyes stopped her. She knew what he was thinking. If we leave here, we only postpone the moment for Talbot to act. Perhaps now, with witnesses, we have a chance. Uncertain, she held her tongue.
"The point is moot," Talbot said. "The challenge has already been given and accepted." He stared at Adam as though daring the other man to contradict him.
"No!" Caroline cried. "It's not—"
Edward interrupted her. "Is he right?" he asked Adam.
"He is." Adam's gaze, dark and intense, held Edward's, lending certainty to his words.
"Adam," Caroline said. He could not mean it. He dare not mean it. Talbot was a trained soldier. Talbot knew how to kill.
He had been using guns since he was a boy. Adam would have no chance against him.
Adam glanced at her and his eyes held a warning. Do nothing, say nothing, let me play this my own way. Caroline wanted to scream. Did he have some crazy notion of defending her because her honor had been besmirched? No, he would not be that foolish. Or did he think he could best Talbot at his own game? In God's name, how? Adam was a practical man. He knew when and when not to take risks. This was a risk not worth taking. One way or another, Talbot intended to kill him.
She looked at Talbot and saw a mixture of triumph and contempt on his face. How clever he must think himself, to have impeccable witnesses to his killing of Adam, to have Adam himself consent to his own execution. And Adam was no better. Men were entranced by their own folly, duped by their infatuation with death. Life was the only thing that mattered, not honor, not proving one's own courage, not besting one's enemy, real or imagined. Children mattered. If men bore children, they would know how to be humane.
"Well," Anandale said into the silence that followed Caroline's protest. "If we're having a duel, let's get on with it. Talbot, do you have a decent pair of dueling pistols here?"
Talbot looked very pleased with himself. "As it happens, I do." He and Anandale left the room, leaving a strained silence in their wake.
Caroline wanted to scream out her anguish. Who would put a stop to this deadly game? Not Adam. He was standing staring out the window. She knew him in that mood, remote and unapproachable and stubborn as the devil. Edward then. But Edward was pacing the room, his warring loyalties evident in his face. Granby. He t
oo was standing apart. His face showed signs of strain, but she could not fathom his thoughts. Crossing quickly to his side she said, "Lord Granby, you cannot allow this duel to take place."
Granby raised his brows. "Cannot, my dear? How am I to stop it?"
"He's your son." Impatience flooded her voice. "He's a soldier. Adam knows nothing about weapons. It's butchery."
"Durward has only to decline the challenge. I shall hardly think the worse of him for it."
Caroline swung around to look at Adam. He could hardly have failed to hear their words. "Adam, do you hear? It's not too late. Don't go through with this."
Adam did not even acknowledge her words. She turned back to Talbot's father. "Lord Granby, what am I to do?"
Granby's eyes held a note of warning. "I'm not sure I can stop Talbot. In such matters he ceased listening to me long ago. And my brother supports him. If Durward is obdurate too, there's nothing any of us can do."
Caroline bit back a cry of frustration as Talbot and Anandale returned, the latter carrying a walnut case which he opened to reveal a pair of dueling pistols. Adam nodded. Anandale caried the pistols to a table and inspected them each in turn, then carefully loaded them and returned them to their case. "Are we ready?"
There were murmurs of assent. Anandale led the way to the French windows which opened onto a terrace overlooking a garden at the back of the house. Four wide shallow steps led down to a well-maintained lawn. Heavy shrubbery lay toward the left, a half-dozen oaks to the right, but the central area, nearly level, was more than long enough for a field of honor.
Caroline followed the men onto the terrace. At the steps Granby stayed her. "My dear, you should wait inside." His voice held genuine sympathy for her plight.