by Tracy Grant
Elena watched as Adam and Edward lifted Colborne and laid him on the sofa. "I'll get water and bandages," she said, but before she left the room she turned to Hawkins, grasped him by the shoulders, and kissed him firmly on the mouth. When she drew away she was frowning and there was no trace of passion on her face. "Men. They can't settle an argument without a gun. Give me those. You will not shoot anyone else today." Hawkins watched her with a bemused expression as she took the pistols from his unresisting hands and walked to a door in the wall facing the windows. "One is Colborne's," he called after her.
"I don't care whose they are, they are too dangerous for you to play with."
"Elena." Adam's voice stopped her. "Who is in the bed?"
"Lord Sheriton," Elena said as she disappeared into the other room.
Emily pointed to the white-faced man who had collapsed on the sofa, his hand still clutching his bloody arm. "He shot him."
"Sherry!" Caroline's voice was sharp with dismay.
"In the bedroom, Mama." Emily wiggled out of Caroline's arms and ran to the door through which Elena had disappeared.
"Stay with Colborne," Adam told Hawkins. He followed Caroline and Emily to the other room, nearly colliding with Elena as she emerged through the door carrying a basin and an armful of what appeared to be torn sheets.
"Lord Sheriton's going to need a doctor," Elena said as she stepped aside to let him pass. "I'll take care of this one. I don't think the wound is serious."
Sherry was sprawled on his back, his eyes closed, his arms lying limp by his side. His shirt had been cut away to the skin, and his chest was covered by a massive bandage which showed a faint tinge of blood at its center. Caroline lifted up his hand and felt for his pulse. To her unpracticed fingers it felt slow and unsteady. She felt his forehead. It was clammy and faintly filmed with sweat. His skin was unnaturally pale. The skin of his chest was paler still, the gold hairs standing out against the skin in sharp relief.
Caroline looked up. "Adam?"
"I'll get a doctor."
Emily had climbed onto the bed, bouncing as she settled by the unconscious man. "We bandaged him, Mama. Like you did in Acquera." She looked up at Adam. "You looked white, too. But you got better."
"So I did." Adam smiled. "I'm glad you were here to take care of him."
"Elena took care of him." Emily frowned. "Mostly. I helped."
"You did very well, Emily," Caroline said. "But now Sherry needs to have a doctor look at his wound." She turned to Adam. "I want to stay with him."
"Of course. Caro—" Adam hesitated. "I'm sorry."
He felt responsible, Caroline realized, as did she. It had been Adam's idea to ask Sherry to drive them to Sussex, but it had been her involvement in the effort to expose Talbot that had led Adam to do it.
Caroline squeezed Adam's hand and followed him into the sitting room. Elena and Hawkins were on their knees beside Colborne. Colborne's sleeve had been cut away, and Elena was wiping the blood from his arm. "Looks like a flesh wound," Hawkins said, glancing at Adam. "It doesn't seem to have hit the bone."
"Lord Sheriton is worse." Elena did not pause in her ministrations.
Hawkins took a bloody cloth from her hand and passed her a clean one. "Elena says Sheriton took it in the chest."
Edward was intent on sweeping up the shattered windowpane and the remnants of the large Chinese vase that had stood on the table beneath it. "Farnwood," Adam said, "we'll need a doctor. Where can I find one?"
Edward looked at the hearth broom as though the simple act of sweeping was all that had held the horror at bay. Then he set down the broom and said with sudden decision, "I'll send my coachman for him. And we'll have to inform the magistrate."
Colborne turned his head sharply. "Magistrate?"
"Colonel Rawley is dead, Colborne." Adam walked to the sofa and looked down at the man whose face showed both fear and cunning. "He was shot by Lord Granby. We'll need your story of these events. I wouldn't advise running away. You'll come out of it well enough."
Colborne blenched but said nothing.
Edward was leaving the room. Adam called after him. "Farnwood. I'm coming with you."
No one spoke after the two men left. Caroline returned to the bedroom and shut the door behind her. Emily was still sitting on the bed, singing softly to Sherry about three cows and a horse.
Hawkins and Elena were left alone with their patient. Hawkins left Elena to deal with Colborne's wound and began to crawl about the floor, searching for the object that would make their task easier. A moment later he sat up in triumph. "Found it."
"The bullet?"
Hawkins grinned. "It went right through. The wound should be clean."
"This isn't," Elena said, indicating the bloody basin. "Bring me some fresh water." When Hawkins returned she was holding a wad of cloth round Colborne's arm. "It won't stop bleeding," she complained.
"You know what they say about the British." Hawkins turned to Colborne. "Right, soldier? In the field you'd wrap it with a napkin and go straight back to the guns."
"Damn you," Colborne said, but there was no malice in his voice.
"I aimed for your arm. I didn't want to hurt you, but I don't like guns pointed at me. Not with women and children about."
"The colonel didn't know they'd be coming with Mrs. Rawley. He told me to keep them out of the way."
Hawkins grinned. "And you followed orders, like a good soldier. Can't say I blame you for it. Can't say anyone else will either, though you deserve more than you'll get. Think I'll keep your gun till this is settled." The wound was cleansed now as best they could. Hawkins took some folded pads from Elena and bound Colborne's arm, then contrived a sling to make its weight easier to bear. "There, that will have to do till the doctor arrives. Can I get you anything?"
"Water."
Elena nodded, got to her feet in one swift movement, and left the room.
"I can't trust you, mate, can I?" Hawkins said to the wounded man.
Colborne gave a harsh laugh. "Where would I go? Who would I run to?"
Hawkins got to his feet. "Yes. Still and all... I'm watching you, remember that."
Elena returned with a glass of water which Colborne drank greedily. "Tastes bad," he said.
"It's losing all that blood," she said calmly. Then she gestured to Hawkins to follow her into the entrance hall. "What did you put in that glass?" he asked.
"I found some laudanum."
"Wicked woman."
"Hawkins." Elena drew Hawkins out of sight of the open door. "You keep me always with my soul in my shoes."
"Here," said Hawkins, taking her by the waist, "I'm not the one who got shot."
She pulled away, a frown marring the lovely oval of her face. "Not this time, no. But always there are the guns and the knives and the killing. I don't want to live with that, Hawkins. But I must. Only you must be careful, more careful than you have ever been in your life, or our baby will have no father."
Hawkins was not sure he had heard her aright. No father? He stared at her with dawning wonder. Then he reached out a hand, slowly, tentatively, and placed it on her belly. "Our baby? Here?" It could not be true. She was as taut and flat as ever.
Elena clasped his hand and held it firmly against her. "Stupid man. It does not show yet."
Her face glowed, as bright as her hair. Hawkins felt a great outpouring of love for this golden woman before him. He wanted to enclose her with his love, to take her into himself, to hold her against the ravages of eternity, and he did not dare move. "Then you will marry me?"
Elena smiled. "I did not say that."
"But—"
"But Caroline is marrying her Adam, whom she loves to distraction though she fears it is not wise. And I must marry my Hawkins because when I am with him I am not wise at all. He is my despair and he makes me delirious with joy."
"I never thought you'd admit it," Hawkins said as Elena came into his arms. He held her tight against him, breathing in the heady perfume of her ski
n. "The devil take you, woman. You will be my undoing."
"Oh, my Hawkins, then I must sew you up again."
A sharp sound brought them out of their embrace and sent them racing back into the sitting room. Colborne was sitting up, his head supported by his good arm. He looked up, trying to focus his eyes on Elena. "You witch." His voice was slurred. "I knew the water was bad."
Hawkins went forward and retrieved the glass, which had fallen to the floor. "Time to sleep," he said, lifting Colborne's legs back onto the sofa. When Colborne's breathing deepened and his eyes closed, Hawkins looked up at Elena. "He'll do. Now let's have a look at Sheriton."
"There's nothing more we can do for him," Elena said, her voice not hiding her worry.
"Well, then. Let's find Emily. I want to tell her you're making me an honest man."
Adam and Edward entered the big house in silence to be greeted by a greater silence inside. Edward made for the salon where they had found Talbot with Caroline and Adam. When he reached the door he hesitated, then shook his head. The windows in the salon looked onto the terrace. The terrace led to the clearing where Talbot's body must still lie. "They'll be in the library," he said with sudden decision and walked across the hall to a room that stood at the front of the house, out of sight of the grisly spectacle of his brother growing cold on the unyielding ground.
Granby was sitting in a deep leather chair, his head erect his face pale and without sign of life. He might have taken the place of one of the marble busts that stood at intervals along the hall. Across from him Anandale sat in a matching chair, his shoulders hunched and his anguish declared in every feature. Both men looked around as Edward and Adam entered the room.
"I covered him with a blanket," Anandale said. "It seemed only decent."
"Thank you, Uncle Hugo. I've sent Benson for the doctor. He'll have to certify to the death."
Anandale threw his head back against the chair. "God's blood, will it be long?"
"I'm afraid so. Lord Sheriton's been shot and needs attention."
"Sheriton?" Granby's face lost its marble cast. "What the devil is he doing here?"
Edward's mouth twisted. "It was his carriage that Talbot's man took when he brought Caroline here. I daresay Sheriton wanted his cattle back."
Anandale was now sitting upright, his face a mask of surprise. "Who shot him?"
"Colborne. Talbot's batman. He was playing nursemaid to Caroline's daughter and a woman who'd been traveling with her. Sheriton probably guessed that Talbot would take the women to the cottage. Colborne must have taken exception to his intervention."
"Good God."
"Where is Colborne now?" Granby's voice was sharp.
"At the cottage still. He's wounded as well. Not badly, I suspect. Durward's friend Plumb was trying to rescue the woman and child."
Granby and Anandale seemed to become aware of Adam's presence, but Edward's voice reclaimed their attention. "I've also sent for Sir Roger." Sir Roger Nelkin, Edward had told Adam, was the local magistrate and an old friend of the family.
Granby's eyes widened. "Was that necessary?"
Edward erupted. "Good God, sir, of course it was. What did you expect us to do? Dig a hole and tip him into it?"
"Edward!" Anandale was outraged.
Edward ignored him. "Pretend it hasn't happened? Pretend he's never been? We can't do it. There'll be questions. There'll be inquiries. Talbot can't disappear off the face of the earth. He'll be with us always."
His anger sated, Edward sank down into a chair as though his legs would no longer support him.
Granby closed his eyes. "You're right. Talbot's mind was unsound. The duel can be explained, but he tried to shoot Caroline. I couldn't allow that."
"No, Father, you couldn't."
A clock on the mantelpiece ticked away the silence. Granby stared straight before him. Adam watched the three men, remembering Talbot's words before he died. Everything began to be clear.
He walked forward, close enough so Granby had to acknowledge his presence. "You knew, didn't you," Adam said, "you knew from the beginning. From the moment Jared was discovered. How did it happen? Did Talbot come to you and tell you he was implicated?"
Granby raised his eyes. His face betrayed no emotion.
"Yes, I think that's the way it was," Adam went on. "Leighton could link Talbot to Jared. The scandal was bad enough as it was. So Leighton had to be kept quiet. He should have been discharged. He was allowed to resign his commission instead. You have influence, sir. But Leighton naturally wanted more, and you've been paying him ever since."
Anandale sat up abruptly. "Durward," he said unsteadily. "Do you know what you're saying?"
"I think I do. Leighton told me Talbot paid him, but he hesitated when he said it. Talbot had no money. You'd never have done it yourself. It had to be Lord Granby."
"No:" Anandale sank back into his chair. Edward said nothing at all, but his eyes were fixed on his father and his face was white with dismay.
Adam turned back to Granby. "A genteel bribe. Understandable. But there's more, isn't there? There's the question of Lord Silbury. You knew about that too, didn't you? That was the real problem. Treason. Not a pretty word. Not a word that should taint the Rawley family. Not a word that should smirch the career of an important politician."
"For God's sake, Durward." Edward was on his feet. "That's the vilest slander."
"Yes, it is," Adam conceded. "And I have no proof. The Home Office were about to indict Silbury. That much I know. Then some papers went missing and Silbury had time to flee the country. That left Talbot safe."
Edward's mouth tightened. "You're saying my father allowed a known spy to escape capture?"
"Ask him."
Edward strode to Granby's chair and looked down at him. "Deny it, sir."
Granby looked up at his son. The ghost of a smile crossed his face and vanished. "Durward's a clever man."
"Oh, my God." Edward stared at his father as if seeing him for the first time. "The letter," he said suddenly. He looked at Adam. "Jared sent my father a letter after he was wounded. One of his fellow soldiers brought it back from Spain and sent it on to us. Father would never let the rest of us see it. He said it was personal. I don't think he even showed it to Caroline when she came to see him."
Edward turned back to his father. "Jared wrote to tell you Talbot had been involved in the fraud, didn't he? He thought you knew nothing about it. And you wrote to Talbot and warned him Jared was likely to make a deathbed confession. That's why Talbot sent those men after Caroline. Did you tell him to do that too?"
"No!" Granby's voice was suddenly sharp. "I admit nothing, of course," he added after a moment, with more energy than he had shown since Talbot had fallen.
Adam smiled. "And nothing can be proved. I only wanted the truth. Tell me, sir, as a matter of curiosity. You aimed the pistol at me. You shot Talbot. Whom were you protecting? Caroline? Or yourself?"
Granby's eyes looked pained. Then he shook his head. "Who can know? Be careful, Durward. You can stretch truth too far."
Chapter Twenty-six
Lord Castlereagh clasped his hands on the desk in front of him and looked at Adam. "In view of Stuart's letter on your behalf and other—ah—recent developments, it goes without saying that you are cleared of all charges made against you, Durward." He paused and cleared his throat. "On behalf of the Government, I owe you an apology."
"Thank you, sir." Adam suppressed a smile. Castlereagh, he knew, was not accustomed to apologizing for being wrong, but he was a fair man and willing to admit his mistakes.
"It's been a sad business all round," Castlereagh said with a sigh. "I'm sure we're all eager to put it behind us. Colonel Rawley is dead and there is no point in upsetting the family with a public airing of his crimes."
"Quite so," Adam said, a faint trace of irony in his voice. He suspected the Government's wish to keep the matter quiet had as much to do with their own desire to avoid a scandal as with concern for the Rawley
family. In the two days since Talbot's death, Adam had written up a report of his own investigation, which he had submitted to Castlereagh as well as to the Master-General of Ordnance and the Home Secretary. The report included the attacks on Caroline, Leighton's confession about Talbot's role in the fraud, Adam's conclusions about Talbot's link to Silbury, and the events at Shepton, but Adam had said nothing about Lord Granby, whose role in the affair was pure conjecture. It seemed better to leave Granby's fate in the hands of his son and brother.
"I have written to Stuart and Wellington telling them to disregard the letters I sent about Colonel Rawley's accusations against you and commending your role in the affair," Castlereagh continued. He unclasped his hands and laid them palm down on the desk. "I owe you a favor, Durward."
There was reluctance in his voice, but also a grudging note of respect. Adam smiled. "I'll remember that, sir."
Castlereagh looked at him fixedly for a moment, then gave a faint smile of acknowledgement. "We're going to need able diplomats when the war ends. A man of your talents should go far if you don't mind taking up less adventurous activities."
"Mind?" Adam laughed. "Hardly."
"I suspected your thoughts might be turning in a more domestic direction." Castlereagh settled back in his chair. "Farnwood tells me you're to marry Mrs. Rawley."
Any amusement Adam had felt was wiped away. He swallowed, tasting his own fear and doubt. "Yes," he said. It seemed an inadequate response, but Adam was not sure what else he could safely say. Since their return from Shepton, he had scarcely spoken to Caroline in private. In fact, he had been avoiding it, for he knew there was one conversation they must have, one conversation which could send his fragile hopes for the future crashing to bits.
"It's nice to know some good has come out of all this," Castlereagh said. "I trust Mrs. Rawley and her daughter are recovered from their unfortunate ordeal?"
"To all outward appearances. Mrs. Rawley is a strong woman and her daughter takes after her." When Adam had left the house that morning, Caroline, Emily, and Elena had been setting out to visit Sheriton, who was still confined to a sick room. Adam felt a stab of jealousy at the thought of what Sheriton might be saying to Caroline and how he might be looking at her.