Dark Angel (Lescaut Quartet)

by Tracy Grant

  "No." Caroline brushed past him and ran down the steps to the lawn. She would not leave Adam alone. If he and Talbot were determined on this course, she would do something to stop them.

  "Talbot," Granby said, "is this wise?"

  "It's the only course open to me," Talbot said stiffly.

  Anandale was pacing out the field. He turned back to look at his brother. "You're not a soldier, Arthur. Politicians don't understand these things." Then to Talbot, "I'll be your second."

  Edward looked at his uncle in surprise. "Then I'll be Durward's," he said firmly. He walked toward Anandale. "I'm not sure how one goes about these things, but I think we have an obligation to settle the matter without coming to blows. Or shots."

  "There's nothing to settle," Anandale said shortly. "You heard them. Talbot has cause to complain of Durward and Durward has offered neither explanation nor apology."

  Edward turned to his cousin. "Would you accept an apoogy?"

  Talbot laughed and turned away.

  Edward stared at him for a moment, a frown deepening on his face. He turned and walked toward Adam. "I've never been involved in one of these affairs, Durward."

  "Nor have I," said Adam. His gaze was fixed on Talbot, his eyes intent and calculating. Then he turned to Edward. "Thank you, Farnwood."

  Edward looked uncomfortable. "I don't know the right or wrong of it, but I want to see it fairly done."

  "Quite so. The quarrel, you know, goes beyond Mrs. Rawley."

  "Yes, so I understand."

  Caroline assumed Edward was talking of Talbot's accusations of treason against Adam. His father must have told him if Talbot had not. Edward looked as though he might say more, but at that point Anandale walked toward them holding the case of pistols in his hand. Caroline knew, without knowing how, that Anandale was striking out at Adam for what Adam had done to Jared and for what he had failed to do himself. If he had not protected his son then as he should, he would protect his nephew now.

  Adam glanced at the case in Anandale's hands. "You choose one," he said as though the matter were of no importance to him. He walked toward the terrace, shrugged off his coat, and laid it on the balustrade. As he came back down the steps, Caroline seized his arm. Adam looked down at her and smiled. He lifted his hand and gently brushed his fingers against her face. Then he released her and walked toward Talbot. "You were the one who found Leighton, weren't you?"

  Talbot looked at him sharply. "What are you talking about?"

  "Captain Leighton, your fellow Artillery officer. The man with an itching palm and no particular scruples. It had to be you, Rawley. Jared wouldn't have known how to find him."

  Adam had their attention now. Caroline stayed very still. Adam had no intention of fighting the duel. He hoped to force Talbot to a confession.

  "Leighton?" Edward asked, as though he could not recall where he had heard the name.

  "The man who Jared bribed," Anandale said. He took a few steps toward Adam. "What are you trying to say, Durward?"

  "Your son needed money," Adam told him. "So did Colonel Rawley. He arranged contracts for the ironfounder, Bell, and the partners backing Bell paid Colonel Rawley a fee."

  "We knew that." Edward had come to stand beside his uncle. His face was no longer friendly.

  "Colonel Rawley knew Captain Leighton," Adam said calmly. "He knew he was bribable. He set Jared Rawley on him, then let his cousin take the blame."

  Doubt and fury warred in Edward's face. Fury won. "You unmasked Jared. Wasn't that enough? Why accuse Talbot after all these years? Why invent this crazy story of attacks on Caroline?"

  Anandale stared at his nephew in astonishment. "Caroline? What attacks?"

  Caroline looked at Granby. He seemed shocked, as she was herself. There was no way Edward could have got hold of the story unless Talbot had told him, and what had happened in Spain was the last thing Talbot was likely to share with his brother.

  Edward looked suddenly uncomfortable. Caroline realized he hadn't intended to tell them what he unaccountably knew. "It's circumstantial, all of it," he said. Then he rounded once more on Adam. "You're an adulterer and you're a spy."

  "An accused spy. Not a proven one."

  "Trying to save his skin."

  "As is Colonel Rawley. There's not much to choose between us."

  "By God, sir!" Anandale's face had grown very red.

  "Leighton told me that Colonel Rawley recruited him for the scheme," Adam continued in a level voice. "I'm sure he'll tell you so as well. Leighton lost his position, but he's living very well on the bounty of your family."

  "Talbot?" Anandale looked at his nephew in bewilderment. Then he turned to his brother. "Arthur?"

  Granby shook his head. "I think Durward finds himself in a devilish pickle."

  Talbot strolled forward. He had not bothered to remove his coat, a sign of his contempt for his opponent. "Durward would say anything to draw attention from his own treasonable activities. It will be a pleasure to put an end to his misery." His manner strove for the casual, but the heightened color in his face showed that Adam's barbs had found their mark.

  Edward's fury seemed to have cooled. "Perhaps in light of these accusations—"

  "No, by God!" Anandale said in a voice which thundered and trembled at the same time. "I don't want to hear them. We're having a duel. Let's get on with it. Time to sort out all this taradiddle later."

  Talbot walked over to his uncle and took the pistol Anandale handed to him. Adam took the second pistol from Edward. He looked perfectly calm, but Caroline knew how much the act had cost him.

  The duelists and their seconds walked toward the center of the lawn. Caroline could not believe Adam was actually going to go through with it. She stayed where she was, near the place where Adam would stand when he fired, near the place where he would fall. Adam had thought to draw Talbot out, but it had come to nothing. Surely he would not leave it at that.

  She waited while the seconds gave the duelists their pistols, while Anandale. gave them their instructions, while they turned to stand back to back. Then she could wait no more. "What about Lord Silbury?" she called.

  Five men turned and stared at her as though they had forgot her presence. Anandale's face grew red again. "How dare you interrupt the business at hand?"

  Adam turned to face Talbot, the pistol dangling negligently from his hand. "Yes, Silbury," he said as though Anandale had not spoken. "You arranged the contracts and you found the inspector to bribe, but the idea was Silbury's own. You were his creature, Rawley, just as Jared was yours. Silbury put you in touch with Bell. He told you what he wanted and how you should get it for him."

  Anandale and Edward stared at the duelists with incomprehension. Granby stood a little apart, a frown deepening on his forehead. Talbot was now angry. No, more than angry, he was blazing with fury and hatred. "Damn your rotten soul to everlasting hell. You and your paramour too. There's no filth you wouldn't throw to bring me down."

  "That's enough," Anandale said sharply. "Back to back, as before." He began the count, his voice trembling with emotion.

  Caroline watched the men as they paced across the grass, each step an eternity. The sun, which had been obscured by clouds, suddenly burst forth low in the sky, sending a wash of light over the terrace. A slight breeze rose, chilling her skin under the thin muslin of her dress. There was an incongruous scent of lilacs. Somewhere a dog barked.

  Adam, Adam, Adam she repeated in her head, each mention of his name a silent scream. She could call out again, but they would only resume their deadly game after they removed her from the field. She could run in front of Adam and take Talbot's bullet into her own body, but she could not abandon Emily.

  Anandale stood midway between the duelists, out of the line of fire. Erect, his face implacable, he gave the signal to the duelists to turn and face each other. Their bodies placed to give the smallest possible target, they raised their arms, their pistols aimed at each other. Anandale gave the signal to fire.
/>   A shot rang out, pure and bright in the evening air. A flock of sparrows rose in a cloud from one of the oaks. Adam was prostrate on the ground. Caroline screamed, her heart shattering with the sound. Then, as in a nightmare, she was running toward him but she could not move. An instant later she realized a man stood close behind her, one arm restraining her about the waist, the other clasping her shoulders. She struggled frantically and heard Edward's voice in her ear. "It's all right, he's not hurt."

  Caroline saw Adam raise his head. Her breath returned in ragged gasps, and she would have fallen had not Edward held her. She looked round at the others. Anandale was staring at Adam in disbelief. "You didn't stand," he said in an accusing voice.

  Talbot threw aside his pistol and walked toward Adam, his face filled with rage and contempt. "A gentleman receives as well as gives fire."

  Caroline stared at Talbot in bewilderment. She looked again at Anandale. Then she understood. Adam had dropped to the ground at the instant Talbot fired. Talbot's bullet had missed him, by the fraction of a hairsbreadth. Her fear vanished and anger took its place. What a dangerous, insane thing to do. An error in calculation, the smallest part of a second late, and Adam would have taken the bullet in his heart.

  Adam rose slowly to his feet, his hand still clasping the pistol which he had not fired. "But I'm not a gentleman, am I? If you want to kill me, Rawley, it will have to be murder."

  There was an exclamation of outrage from Anandale. Granby made an involuntary move toward the duelists, then held his ground. Edward shoved Caroline behind him.

  Without taking his eyes off Talbot, Adam held out his arm, the pistol dangling harmlessly from his hand. "Farnwood, discharge it." Edward stepped forward, but it was Granby who moved first and took the pistol from Adam's hand.

  Adam and Talbot stared at each other as though no one else in the world existed. "Silbury wasn't in it for the money," Adam said. "He would have been a partner otherwise. Do you know why he wanted faulty cannon made for British soldiers? I think you do, Rawley. You knew he was working for the French. You knew and it didn't matter. You'd lost heavily to him. You had to have money."

  Talbot's face had gone very white. Incongruously, he smiled, though when he spoke his voice trembled. "You think you're clever, Durward. You'll never know the whole story." With a movement as quick as the strike of a snake, Talbot reached into his coat and drew out a small pistol, the same one he had held on Adam before, and pointed it at Adam's heart.

  Caroline screamed.

  "For God's sake!" Edward rushed forward to stop his brother but was halted as Talbot moved the pistol in his direction.

  "Stay out of this, Edward." Talbot's face was now suffused with blood and he was breathing hard. "Do you want to destroy the family?"

  "I won't let you commit murder."

  "You're a fool, Edward. We'll never be safe while Durward lives. Do you want to see me hanged?" Talbot paused, his eyes never leaving Adam's face. "I'm not the only one Durward can ruin. Do you want to bring your father down as well?"

  Anandale gave a cry of disbelief. Edward drew in his breath sharply and turned to his father. Caroline looked at Granby in bewilderment. Granby's face was determined and unyielding, his body taut and inflexible. And his hand—God in heaven, his hand was now clasping Adam's pistol and the pistol was aimed straight at Adam's heart.

  Granby's hand was steady but it was Talbot's finger that tightened on the trigger. "No!" Caroline hurled herself forward. As she ran toward Adam a second shot rang out. Caroline felt nothing but Adam's arms closing around her. Then she looked at Talbot and saw him falling slowly, a look of utter surprise on his face.

  She turned to Granby, not believing what had happened. Lord Granby, his mouth open, his eyes wide and staring, was standing with Adam's smoking pistol at his side, watching his son fall and die.

  Chapter Twenty-five

  A shaft of sunlight emerged from behind the trees and lit Talbot's face, still slicked with a sheen of sweat. His eyes, which should have blinked in the sudden light, stared open at the sky. He lay on his back, his legs twisted as they had crumpled beneath his falling body. His coat was open and his arms outflung, the loaded pistol clutched in his right hand, his trigger finger released as though he had lost command of his weapon. A red stain spread slowly from the dark hole in his shirt.

  The dog barked again. The sound, distant and muted, broke the silent tableau on the lawn below the terrace. Adam released Caroline and dropped to his knees beside Talbot. He sought the pulse in Talbot's neck. Then, with slow and gentle fingers, he closed the staring eyes and looked up at Granby. "He's dead."

  "He's dead," Granby repeated. His face was ashen. He threw his pistol on the ground and walked toward the house, skirting Talbot's body.

  Anandale, as shaken as his brother, looked after him in disbelief. "You killed him."

  Granby had reached the terrace. He stopped and looked back, his eyes avoiding the shell of the man lying on the ground. His eyes narrowed. "He would have killed Caroline."

  "He's your son," Anandale cried.

  "He was." Granby's voice was without expression. He stared at his brother for a long moment, then turned and passed into the house.

  "Go after him," Edward said to his uncle.

  "Yes. Yes." The words were meaningless. Anandale seemed incapable of movement.

  "For the love of God, Uncle Hugo. He shouldn't be alone."

  "I'm sorry." Anandale stumbled across the lawn, feet and eyes avoiding his dead nephew. At the steps his hand went out to the balustrade, and his voice came back to them. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

  Caroline began to tremble. The broken man, his body and voice echoing his grief, brought home to her the reality of Talbot's death. She forced herself to look once more at Jared's cousin. He had ruined her husband. He had sought her own death. He would have killed Adam. Yet all she could feel was a kind of detached pity. If Adam was right, Talbot had been a victim as well.

  She wrapped her arms around herself, feeling suddenly chilled. Talbot was no danger now. Even while they had been standing there his soul or spirit or whatever had animated that handsome body had fled. He was pathetic. He was irrelevant.

  "Emily," Caroline whispered. The thought of her daughter, at the fringe of her consciousness through the whole of this dreadful afternoon, flooded to the fore. "Emily," she said aloud.

  She looked up to find Adam's gaze upon her. He was breathing hard, the only sign of his disquiet. He reached for her hand and said sharply, "Farnwood. Where is she?"

  Edward had been staring at his brother. He turned to Adam, tears streaming down his cheeks. "I'll take you." His voice was calm and decisive.

  "Now," Adam said as Edward continued to stare at his brother. Adam glanced at Talbot. "He has no need to hurry."

  Edward led them quickly through the shrubbery and onto a path which led into a small beech coppice. They wound their way through the trees, emerged onto a grassy slope, and plunged once more into trees. Oaks this time, their massive trunks extending arms that pointed haphazardly in all directions. The ground underfoot was slightly damp and muffled the sound of their walking. Once or twice Caroline stumbled over an unexpected tree root, but Adam kept her upright. Edward was going at a rapid pace, but it could not be fast enough.

  "She's all right," Adam said, but his voice echoed her own apprehension.

  "Yes, of course she is." Caroline did not believe it, despite all she had told herself during the long hours of waiting with Talbot for Adam to appear. Not after Salamanca, not after their abduction in Sherry's carriage, not after the horror of what had just happened on the lawn below the terrace.

  Caroline knew she was irrational. Talbot had had no designs on Emily. Her abduction in Bunedo had not been Talbot's idea but an improvisation of the men he had sent to silence Jared's wife. He had not intended to abduct Emily today. She and Elena were encumbrances, to be kept out of the way until he had dealt with Adam. But the terrors of the past had merged with t
he nightmare of the present, and Caroline could not control the tight knot of fear under her breast.

  A sharp report echoed through the ancient trees, dying into an unnatural silence. The faint rustling of animals in the underbrush stopped abruptly. The breath caught in Caroline's throat. Then she understood that the sound had been a shot and she ran in panic toward the sound, vaguely aware that Edward was running beside her. Adam, who had been the first to respond, was already out of sight.

  They emerged into a clearing and saw a small house of gray stone, half hidden by trees and underbrush. The door was closed but one of the casement windows was ajar. Edward reached it before Caroline. He pushed the window open and leaned in. "Colborne?" Then, "Who the devil are you?"

  Caroline elbowed her way in beside him. She was vaguely aware that Adam was in the room and Hawkins and Bob Colborne, but all her attention was on Emily, carried astride Elena's hip. Emily's face showed no trace of fear. "Mama!" she called.

  Adam, who was already in the room, turned round and walked rapidly to the window, then lifted Caroline over the sill.

  "Damn it, there's a door," Edward said, climbing in after her.

  Caroline scarcely heard him. Elena came forward and gave Emily into her arms. Caroline tightened her hold on her daughter, whose arms were wrapped in a choking hold around her neck. "You were the longest time coming," Emily said.

  "I know, querida, I know. It was long for me too."

  Emily loosed her hold and looked her mother in the face. "Hawkins shot the bad man." Now free to look about the room, Caroline saw that Hawkins, a pistol dangling from each hand, was standing over Colborne. Colborne was on his knees, his left hand clasping his right arm which hung uselessly by his side. Blood seeped beneath his fingers, staining the sleeve of his coat. His breeches were spattered as well, and a large pool of blood had soaked into the carpet on which he knelt.

  "It's not all his," Elena said to Caroline. Then, to the others, "Come, don't stand there like gawks. Someone help him to his feet. The bed is occupied, so you'll have to put him on the sofa. The carpet's ruined and a sofa won't matter much more."