The servant sneered and took another step forward.
Meg fired. The gun gave a kick, the acrid scent of gunpowder thick in the air.
Across the hall, the servant dropped to his knees and toppled sideways, a red stain spreading across his shoulder.
Cade met her gaze, reading the shock in her silvery blue eyes and pallid cheeks. “Dear heavens!” she said. “Did I kill him?”
He didn’t have an opportunity to reply, as the sound of footsteps rang out in the entry. A moment later his brothers—Edward, Jack, and Drake—burst into the room. They stood silent for a long moment as they took in the scene. Everett lay moaning on the floor in pain, Cade’s sword still levelled just above his chest. The servant was slumped in an unconscious, bleeding heap, while smoke still curled from the end of the pistol in Meg’s hand. Cade could only imagine how the tableau must appear.
“Well, damn,” Jack remarked with raised eyebrows. “Looks like you didn’t need us, after all. Sorry we missed all the excitement.”
CHAPTER 22
“Not that I’m displeased to see you, but why are you here, and more to the point, how did you know where to find us?” Cade asked his brothers.
As he watched, Edward strode forward with his usual smooth, commanding gait. “Obviously, we came to help,” his older brother replied. “As for the how, you are not the only one who has been having Everett watched. When my man saw what was happening tonight, he rode immediately to notify me. Jack and Drake were there when word arrived, and insisted on coming along to lend their aid.” The duke looked down at Everett’s bloodied body with derision. “Though as Jack so aptly observed, you and Miss Amberley do not appear to be much in need of our assistance at the moment.”
“Nonetheless, Meg and I are glad to have it,” Cade stated.
Edward nodded. “We found your man, by the way. He’s suffered a severe beating, but I think he’ll pull through. I already had him sent along to the nearest inn to have a physician see to his injuries.”
“Again, my thanks.” Cade said. “Now, maybe the three of you can help me decide exactly what to do with Everett and his servant. Is he still alive?”
Drake walked over and bent to check. “He’s breathing, so I would have to say yes. Did you really shoot him, Meg?”
All eyes turned toward her, where she stood with the gun still clutched in her hand. She said nothing, just stared, her cheeks devoid of colour. Only then did Cade realize she must be in a state of shock.
“Watch him, will you?” he said with a glance at his brothers.
Jack stepped forward. “With pleasure.”
Handing the sword over to his brother, he crossed to Meg. “Here, let me take that,” he urged in a low tone as he gently pried the pistol from her grip.
She relinquished it without resistance, then let him lead her across to the chair in which he’d so recently been tied. She sank down, her eyes lowered to the floor.
“Will you be all right here for a few minutes?” he asked in a voice meant for her ears alone.
“Of course,” she said.
“I shan’t be long, then we’ll go home.”
“Yes,” she murmured. “Home is exactly where I need to be.”
He made no comment to that cryptic reply, but brushed his fingertips over her cheek. She withdrew ever so slightly from his touch, leaning subtly away. He frowned but said nothing, knowing how hard the past few hours had been. With another concerned glance at her, he re-joined his brothers.
Cade told them about the evening and how Everett had plotted to kill both him and Meg. Prudently, he left out as much of Meg’s involvement as possible, glossing over their intimate relationship and the fact that she had followed him there against his express wishes—something he planned to discuss with her later, when she was more herself again.
“Given the circumstances,” he said as he concluded his tale, “I suppose the most we can pin on Everett is kidnapping and attempted murder. Hopefully, that will be enough to see him imprisoned—and hanged, if we’re lucky.”
Everett, who had been silent until now, glared up at Cade. “It won’t be enough. I’ll deny everything, so it will be your word against mine. I have powerful friends who will rally to my side, including Prinny. I won’t spend so much as an hour in gaol.”
“I wonder if that will be the case, when your friends realize that you have indeed been spying for the French?” Edward mused aloud.
Everett laughed, then stopped abruptly to press a hand against the lacerated skin around his throat, fresh blood seeping into his cravat. “There’s no proof,” he rasped. “I’m a loyal English citizen.”
“That’s not what this will prove,” Edward stated as he crossed the room to retrieve a small leather satchel lying near the door. “You’re not the only one who can set a trap, you know.”
“What trap?” Everett jeered.
“The one I arranged with the War Office a few weeks ago. I consulted with two of the highest military officials, and together we let certain classified information slip out. Only, that information was false, planted to see if you would take the bait.” The duke leaned down as if to share a secret. “The documents I have in this case prove you did.”
Everett remained defiant. “I don’t see how—”
“No, you don’t,” Edward interrupted, his contempt clear. “The man to whom you passed this particular bit of intelligence—which includes what would have been vital troop strengths and positions—just happens to have been one of ours. France isn’t the only country with double agents, mon ami.”
Everett paled—and not due to blood loss from his wound.
“With this evidence, we have enough to put you on trial for treason, and to eventually see you hanged,” Edward continued. “My only regret is that we weren’t able to trail you to a meeting with your other contact. We know there’s someone else, a mole in the organization. We just don’t know who.”
“Well, I’ll never tell,” Everett stated. “You won’t get a scrap of information out of me.”
Edward shrugged. “We’ll see how you feel after you’ve spent a few weeks in a cell. The accommodations are rather lacking in creature comforts.”
Everett sighed resignedly, as though the prospect didn’t trouble him.
“And if he would like to do the honours, I believe I can convince the ministry to allow Cade to conduct your interrogation. I assure you he would be given free rein on his choice of methods.”
A visible shudder went through Everett, the last of his bravado slipping away. In that moment, he looked terrified.
Footsteps sounded near the entrance as a quartet of men came inside—rough, burly fellows who looked to Cade as if they regularly bent iron bars with their bare hands.
“Your escort has arrived, your lordship,” Edward announced, gazing down at Everett. “Before I left London, I sent word to have a prison wagon driven this way.” He looked at the men. “Take him,” he ordered. “And the other one over there. See that he is given medical attention.”
Over the past few minutes, Everett’s servant had regained consciousness, and now sat clutching his bloody shoulder in obvious agony. He groaned aloud as he stared at his gaolers.
“Aye, Your Grace,” stated the eldest of what Cade presumed were a crew of Bow Street Runners. “We’ll give both of ’em our finest.”
Everett and his accomplice were led out into the night, Lord Everett complaining volubly at being handled by such rabble.
When they were gone, Edward turned to Cade. “I can actually arrange for you to conduct the interrogation, if you would like. Perhaps it would provide you with some much needed recompense for all he put you through.”
For a long moment Cade considered the offer, waiting for the familiar, burning need for revenge to sweep through him. Instead, he felt only an odd sense of quiet—of peace.
“No,” he finally replied. “Let someone else do it. Tonight I’ve gained all the recompense I need. It’s enough to know that the truth about
Everett will finally be out for all to see and hear. I’m done with violence. All I want now is to get on with my life and be a plain, ordinary man.”
“There’s nothing plain or ordinary about you,” Edward remarked. “But I’m glad you’re ready to put this behind you.”
And I am, Cade realized with a dawning sense of wonder. The time had come for him to make some essential choices—to bury the painful memories that were holding him in the past, so that he could look ahead to the future.
With those thoughts in the forefront of his mind, he turned and gazed at Meg, who sat patiently waiting. As he studied her, he considered the evening just past. Her impetuous decision to ride after him tonight had been reckless in the extreme. And, of course, she had disregarded his express wish that she remain safely at home—a topic about which they would clearly need to speak again.
Yet Meg had been incredibly brave, as well. Calm and resilient under circumstances that would have reduced a great many of his acquaintances—including men—to blubbering fools. But she’d held her own, even at the last, coming to his defence in a way he could only admire. What other woman, he mused, could possibly have done such a thing?
Only my Meg.
And she is my Meg, he realized, a wondering smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “If you’ll excuse me,” he murmured to Edward, “I believe I ought to take my fiancée home.”
“Yes, of course,” his brother replied, a curious glint in his eyes as he glanced between Cade and Meg.
Before Cade could go to her, however, Drake appeared. “Here’s your cane,” he said, offering the walking stick with its hidden sword. “Interesting mechanism. I took the liberty of inspecting it. Good design, but I could make some improvements, perhaps even add a new feature or two.”
New features, hmm? Cade wondered what those might be, well aware that Drake was a marvel when it came to all things mathematical and mechanical. Right now, though, he had other more important matters that required his attention. “Let’s talk later.”
“Oh,” Drake replied, as if he’d just then remembered their circumstances and less than elegant surroundings. “Not the time or place, I suppose. Besides, the delay will allow me to refine a few potential flaws.”
Cade hid a smile, then started across to Meg. As he did, he realized that this was also not the time or place to discuss all the things he had to say to her. Early morning was already upon them, and they still had a long drive home before they could seek their rest. Tomorrow would be soon enough to talk, he decided. For now, he would keep his own counsel.
Stopping before her, he held out a hand. “Come. Let us be away from this place.”
After a brief pause, she nodded and laid her palm in his.
Despite having arrived home at nearly five in the morning, Meg could not sleep. Lying awake and alone in her bed, she watched the sun grow ever brighter in the morning sky.
Earlier, she and Cade had slipped in through the servants’ hall, silent as they made their way upstairs. He escorted her to her door, but did not come inside.
“Sleep well,” he whispered. “We shall talk later on.” Then he bent, pressed a sexless kiss to her forehead, and disappeared along the corridor to his rooms.
Going inside, she’d stripped down to her chemise, then stretched out atop the coverlet, the room warm in spite of the faint summer breeze drifting through the open window. Closing her eyes, she’d willed herself to find oblivion in slumber.
Instead, her thoughts ran in circles, replaying the events of the night in a continual loop. Shivering, she recalled the sensation of having a loaded gun held to the side of her temple, and considered again the horror of being threatened with rape. But strangely, those were not the events that truly distressed her. No, it was the memory of Cade’s words that made her eyes sting and pressure build in her chest, as if a hod full of bricks had been laid on top of her.
Of course, she realized that a great deal of what he’d said to Lord Everett had been done in an effort to distract and delay the man, his words far from sincere. Still, there were phrases that rang with an undeniable truth…
Just because I’ve enjoyed a tumble or two doesn’t mean I want to slip on a parson’s noose…
That statement had come as no particular revelation. Cade had never made any claims of wishing to wed her, not even after they became lovers.
Despite an admitted affection for Miss Amberley, I am by no means in love with her.
She squeezed her eyes closed, willing the memories to cease…
You murdered the only woman I shall ever love.
Hot tears slid across her cheeks, the echo of Cade’s declaration leaving her numb inside. The sentiment of his words allowed her no hope at all.
At the beginning of this deception of theirs, she had thought to find another man and marry him, had assured herself she could forget Cade Byron and happily go on with her life. But she knew now that she’d only been deluding herself. She loved Cade, had loved him from the first, and no other man would do.
Not now. Not ever.
And even if Cade abided by his promise to “take care” of her by offering to make her his wife, she knew she could not endure the thought of marrying him simply to assuage the dictates of Society and convention. She did not want his pity or his forbearance, she wanted his love. But his heart had been given to another, as she’d been so cruelly reminded tonight, and she needed to accept that truth, however harsh it might be.
So then, what to do?
Brushing at the wetness dampening her cheeks, she considered her options. At length she came to a decision, then rose and rang for her maid.
CHAPTER 23
Later that afternoon, Cade exited his carriage, his step light in spite of the physical strain he’d put his leg through the night before during his scuffle with Everett. Walking into Clybourne House, he barely felt the residual discomfort, his spirits too buoyant to let an aching muscle or two interfere with his day, or his plans.
He had just returned from Rundell and Bridge, where he’d spent over an hour selecting what he hoped would be the perfect offering for Meg—a ring chosen expressly to serve as a tangible expression of his love and devotion for her.
After arriving home early that morning, and parting from Meg, he’d lain in his solitary bed attempting to sleep. Instead his mind was crowded with thoughts of her and the undeniable realization of just how much she meant to him.
How could I not have known that I love her? He’d wondered. How could he have been so stubborn and blind all these long weeks, ignoring the truth that had literally been staring him in the face?
It had taken nearly losing her to awaken him to the true depths of his feelings, to make him see that she had become as essential to him as breathing, and that he would, quite simply, be lost without her.
A part of him still believed she would have an easier life with someone else—with a less complicated sort of man, such as her Lieutenant McCabe. But she’d turned the fellow down, and now that he was aware of his own feelings, he wasn’t going to give her an opportunity to find someone else. If she would have him, he would marry her today!
In fact, he’d nearly gone to Doctors’ Commons to obtain a special license, but stopped himself at the last minute, wondering if she would rather have a more traditional wedding with all the usual rites and trappings. He decided he would leave the details up to her, but first, of course, he needed to ask for her hand—properly this time.
“Have the ladies gone out?” he asked Croft as he moved toward the main staircase. If Meg wasn’t in, he would leave word with her maid to let him know the moment she returned.
“Yes, your lordship. Her Grace and Lady Mallory left some while ago. As for Miss Amberley…” The butler paused, his brows shifting on his forehead.
“Is she above stairs?” Cade asked, grinning at the thought of surprising her. “Don’t worry. I’ll find her.”
“But my lord—”
“Still abed, is she?” He rather liked
the idea of that, imagining himself finding her warm and sleepy as she lay amid the tumbled sheets.
Waving off the butler’s attempts at further explanation, he took the stairs as quickly as he could. He continued down the corridor, a smile riding his lips that he feared must look fatuous. But right now he didn’t care; he was in too good a humour.
When he reached her bedchamber, however, he found the door ajar and the room unoccupied. For a moment he stood nonplussed, a fist planted on his hip. Perhaps she was in the drawing room, he considered. Or the music room, where she occasionally went to play the pianoforte. Maybe that was what Croft had been trying to tell him.
He was about to go in search of her when he saw Esme running down the hallway toward him.
“Are you looking for Meg?” she ventured.
He turned to greet his sister, her child’s skirts swinging around her ankles, her dark curls bouncing in a pretty sweep against her shoulders as she came to an abrupt halt.
“I am,” he said. “Have you seen her?”
The small bridge of her nose wrinkled. “She left.”
“She went out, you mean? Was it with friends? Or with a gentleman caller, perhaps?” If so, he thought, that is the last drive she will be taking with a member of that male coterie of hers.
Unfashionable as it might seem, he planned to keep her close by his side, monopolizing her time and attention both day and night. Particularly at night, especially after they were wed.
Esme shook her head. “No. She’s gone away. I was playing with the puppy—”
“Escaping your governess, you mean?” he said, hiding an amused smile.
The little girl grew slightly pink. “Miss Carson gave me time after nuncheon to rest, but I thought Zeus could do with a walk in the garden. We were on our way there when I noticed Meg coming out of her room. She had on one of her old black gowns and she was carrying a traveling case.”
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