He stopped cold in his tracks, heart in his throat.
Broken glass covered near every surface of the room while the furniture lay overturned in total disarray. At the center of it all sprawled Trudy, the maid, bloodied and unmoving in a sea of reflective shards.
“Jesus,” Sid muttered, halting behind Alex’s left shoulder.
Across the room Baker—the left side of his head dripping blood—held Charley in an unrelenting vice one arm barred around her torso, while the other held a knife to her throat.
“Alex,” she choked. Her eyes widened and melted with a mixture of relief and terror.
Leveling his weapon, Alex prayed he lived up to her unspoken faith in him. “Release her,” he commanded, taking a few cautious steps toward the fiend.
“Stay back or I’ll slit her throat,” Baker sneered, tilting the blade into the tender flesh of Charley’s throat.
“Let her go or I’ll shoot you right between the eyes,” Alex bluffed. He was a crack shot, but would never take the chance of hitting Charley.
He cast a sidelong glance at Sid who met his gaze and gave a quick nod, breaking away from Alex, his own pistol at the ready.
Baker’s dark eyes hardened, flipping between Alex and Sidney. The knife blade gleamed in the lamplight as he curved the blade into her throat. Blood trickled an uneven path down her neck, leeching into the white satin of her dressing robe.
Charley whimpered, tears splashing onto her cheeks.
Alex clenched the pistol handle, desperate to keep his rampaging emotions under control. “Everything will be fine, love. I promise.”
Terrified, watery eyes gazed up at him with such defeat. Alex couldn’t fail her now. Not after everything they’d shared. Not when life was finally looking up for them. Weighing Baker’s options, Alex continued his advance into the room. Killing Charley was out of the question, at least until he escaped the house. If Alex could keep him corralled a little longer…
“Don’t come any closer, Coverstone. Or do you like watchin’ your wife bleed?”
Alex remained silent, gaze locked on Baker, and continued circling.
Wild eyed Baker yanked Charley backward. The fiend may have continued flight but ran up against the large oak dressing table nestled against the far wall. His grip on her and the knife loosened as he scooted along the edge of the table. The hand holding the weapon fell to her shoulder and by walking sideways Baker’s legs shifted away from Charley, providing an avenue for a possible shot.
Alex shifted his own weapon down and carefully timed Baker’s steps. God bless my aim. He waited for the fiend to move sideways again, trained the barrel on his thigh and squeezed the trigger.
Charley screamed and flinched, squeezing her eyes shut.
The bullet tore through Baker’s right thigh, and he howled in pain. Fixing Alex with an acidic glare, Baker flipped the blade away from Charley and flung it expertly toward Alex.
Caught off guard, Alex dove out of the way, but the knife sliced brutally across his upper arm. He staggered back, gritting his teeth against the fire scorching his entire extremity, forcing his attention back to Charley’s rescue.
As if on cue she swung her leg back, planting a slippered heel squarely in the shine of her captor’s good leg. “Rah!” Baker shrieked, dropping to a knee. She wrenched free, sprinting toward Alex with outstretched arms.
Sidney tackled Baker, pinning the hollering thug to the carpeted floor.
Charley plunged trembling into his Alex’s arms. Knocked off balance by her impulsive embrace he slid the uninjured limb around her, pulling her along as he stumbled back two steps. “Easy, darling,” he murmured huskily. She looped both arms around his neck, hanging on for dear life.
“You’re hurt,” she sobbed, pulling back and shifting her tearful attention to his bloodied sleeve. “How awful! His knife sliced clear through your arm.”
He yanked her back into his embrace, burying his face in the sweet expanse of her hair. “It’s nothing, love.”
“But there is so much blood.”
“It’s just a scratch.”
“Where have I heard that before?” she grumbled in response.
Ignoring her quip Alex closed his eyes and dropped slowly to his knees, keeping his arms around her the entire time. “What of you, Charley? You’re well? He didn’t hurt you?” His palms spanned her tiny waist, his thumbs framing the lower portion of her abdomen. He gulped. “What of the baby?”
She curled her fingers in his hair and made a tremulous attempt to smile. “We’re both fine,” she assured.
“Thank God.” Weak with relief Alex sagged against his wife, resting his face against her womb. For a long moment he was content simply to be held by her and relish the warmth of her body.
A moan drifted up from the center of the room.
“Trudy!” Alarmed Charley broke away from Alex and dashed to her ever faithful maid.
The servant sat with Charley’s assistance, holding her bloodied head. Small cuts and abrasions marred the young girl’s face. “Did we get him, ma’am?”
Charley hugged the other woman. “Yes. Yes we did.” She looked up to Sidney—who’d successfully bound Baker’s hands with his cravat. “Thanks to Sidney and Alex everyone is fine.”
Sadness flickered in Sid’s expression. “Don’t thank me just yet, Charles.”
Alex’s heart clenched at the reminder of such acute betrayal, and he looked away from his half-brother unsure what would transpire next between them.
“What in the hell is going on here?” Regina’s shrill voice split the brief silence. She appeared in the doorway. “Oh, my god! This way General. Quickly?”
General? Confused. Alex rose, clamping a palm over his oozing arm. To his utter shock, General Witherspoon, plowed into the room next, dragging the grizzly Steven Johnston by the scruff of the neck. “Found this bastard skulking about the hall.”
Charley gasped.
Alex positioned himself protectively in front of her. “Johnston,” Alex growled. “I had wondered what happened to you. Did you know that your partner, John Halverson, hanged last week?”
“Where the hell were you?” Baker demanded from his prison between Sid and the wall.
“Got lost in this bloody maze of a house.”
“Good Christ.” Witherspoon took in the scene about the room. “What the hell happened in here?” His gaze dropped to Baker cowering on the floor and Sid standing guard over him.
“It’s a long story,” Alex supplied for his mother’s benefit as much as to answer the general’s question. Wary Alex faced Witherspoon. “What are you doing here?”
“Harris came to find me. Said he needed help and sent me to fetch the magistrate to arrest the little miss waiting downstairs.”
Alex flipped a questioning eye to Sidney. “You had Veronica arrested?”
Sid shrugged. “Of course.”
“Veronica?” Charley and Regina exclaimed in unison.
Alex lifted a commanding, silencing arm. “Let’s move everyone downstairs. Sidney and I will explain everything before the magistrate.”
Regina nodded. “An excellent idea.” Her gaze fell to Trudy. “I’ll send for a physician as well.”
Alex glared at Baker, thinking of all the times he’d sensed being watched. The footprints outside the hunting cottage. Charley’s severed girth strap. “You’ve been watching us.”
“For weeks,” Baker confirmed. “I’ve been watching, waiting, biding my time. It was Lady Veronica who wanted to move tonight. Told her it was a mistake, bad timing and all, but she wouldn’t listen.”
Alex cast a quick glance to Charley—still a trifle too pale—sitting on the bed, arm linked with her maid. He strode to Baker and yanked the injured brigand bodily to his feet.
Alex clenched an angry fist and drew a ragged breath. Vengeance for the havoc wrecked on his life would be short in coming and very sweet indeed.
* * *
Trembling Charley sat on the loveseat, squished b
etween the wooden arm and Alex whose hulking frame took up far more than his share of the furniture. Not that she minded. His nearness lent her an element of the security she so desperately needed. Her gaze filtered over Veronica, and the battered Johnston and Josiah Baker seated in the chairs opposite them. General Witherspoon and the magistrate, Sirius Mott, as well as two Bow Street Runners flanked the trio should any of them try to run.
“She,” Mr. Baker jerked his head toward Veronica for emphasis, “promised to tell me where to find my wife if I murdered the young marchioness.”
“I did no such thing,” Veronica shrieked. “How dare you spin lies and slander against the name of your betters.”
“Oh, step off it, milady.”
Regina’s face flushed beat red. “Veronica, I told you that story in confidence. How dare you use it against my family?”
“I had nothing to do with this.” Veronica’s icy glare told a different story and chilled Charley to the core. What had she done to deserve such hatred from this woman? Aside from marry Alex.
Sidney laughed mockingly. “So that’s how you knew to seek out Baker.”
“Shut up, Sidney,” Veronica hissed.
Mr. Mott loudly cleared his throat. “Would anyone care to fill me in on the details of this situation?”
Sid turned to the magistrate. “It seems Lady Veronica learned of a grudge Mr. Baker held against Lady Coverstone.” He nodded to the fiend for emphasis. “Veronica sought him out and hired him to have Lady Coverstone murdered so that she could marry the marquis herself.”
Regina snapped to attention. “You little bitch.”
Alex wrapped strong, warm fingers around Charley’s hand. “I’m confused. If the plan was to marry me why create all this scandal?”
“Veronica’s plans changed after you rejected her,” Sid supplied evenly. “When the original plan to murder Charley so she could wed you went bad she pulled me into the picture. She—we set out to create scandal… make you pay.”
Charley stiffened. Sidney, her dear friend, had been working against them all this time? Moreover he’d confessed it with his own lips.
Sid met her stunned glare dead on. “Charley,” he murmured, “I am so very sorry.” His voice broke. Averting his eyes he cleared his throat and continued. “Soon her plans to ruin Alex’s name evolved into a scheme to murder him. After the scandal circulated she planned to make his death appear a suicide. If all went well I’d marry Veronica and she would still become Marchioness.” He hesitated, letting the story sink in. “She didn’t count on my refusing to follow through with the proposition.”
Charley sagged back into the sofa. Stunned. All along Alex had been right about someone setting him up.
“You hired Sidney to kill my son,” Regina raged, turning on the other woman. “And all the while you sat in my parlor, offering condolences. I’m all for bettering one’s circumstances, but this is too much.”
Veronica flushed and squared her shoulders. “I did no such thing,” she stated coolly despite the obvious evidence against her. “I just wanted Alex to suffer a little.”
“Like the letters about Jack?” Alex interjected.
Veronica speared him with an ice hewn glare. “No one rejects me.”
Sid threw his head back and roared with cynical laughter. “Really? And how is that theory working out for you? Seems Alex and I both turned you away.”
“Mores the pity to you, Sidney,” venom dripped from Veronica’s tone. “You could have had everything, but what did I expect? You’re naught but the bastard son of a Marquis.”
“And what do you think the gaol will do for your fair complexion, my lady?”
Veronica paled. “Th-the gaol?”
“That is quite enough.” The magistrate lifted a hand, indicating silence. “What a mess,” he muttered under his breath. Finally he looked to Alex. “I must admit, my lord, I am at a total loss as to what to do with this situation. I’ve never arrested a member of the quality before.”
Charley glanced to her husband, praying he would have the trio taken away—Sidney too. If she never saw the conspiring murderers again it would be too soon. She shivered, shrinking into the back of the sofa, away from Veronica’s piercing gaze and Johnston’s devil eyes.
“For the time being get them out of my sight, Mr. Mott,” Alex said. “We’ll decide what to do with Lady Veronica after everyone has had time to calm down.”
“Oh, I know just what to do with her,” Regina stated, a wicked gleam in her eye. “Come along Mr. Mott.”
Drained Charley sagged against the sofa, watching the criminal procession march out of her formal parlor. She’d need to have the furniture reupholstered. Blood smeared the expensive cream fabric of her antique sofa set.
A runner grasped Sidney’s arm, steering him after the other fiends.
Alex shot to his feet. “My brother is not to be arrested.”
Genuine surprise spilled over Sidney’s expression.
“Mr. Harris played a vital role in apprehending Mr. Baker and Lady Veronica. My wife and I owe him our lives.”
“You don’t have to do this, Alex,” Sid interjected. “I’ll take responsibilities for my actions.”
“Nonsense. Release him immediately.” Alex leveled the runner with a firm, militaristic stare. Charley was sure many a young soldier had quivered in their boots beneath it. The thought brought a small smile to her face.
“Of course, milord.” The blue-coated gentleman gulped, dropping Sid without further preamble. He backed to the door. “Just the same, Mr. Harris, we’ll need to take a formal statement at Bow Street Station.”
Sid jerked his coat back into place. “I’ll be along straight away.”
“Very good, sir.” The policeman clicked his heels and quickly stole from the room.
“Well, Coverstone, you certainly know how to make a man feel inadequate,” Sidney quipped.
Ignoring the wry jest, Alex clapped both palms over Sid’s shoulders, giving him a firm shake. “Shut up. You are the only brother I have left and you did right by me in the end.” Alex swallowed, voice thick and husky. “Whatever Veronica says I will stand by you.”
Charley laid a hand to her breast, chest tight with emotion as she watched the unfolding display. Her heart swelled with a new measure of love for her husband. Earlier she had referred to him as a good man. Now she was coming to see what a grossly inadequate descriptor good was. To display such open absolution Alex was a truly great man.
“I don’t deserve your forgiveness.”
“Forgiveness is not yours to earn or deserve but mine to give freely,” Alex said wisely. “We’ve both seen the effect of bitterness on men and family. I think we’d all agree we’re better off standing together with a fresh start.”
“Well said, Coverstone.” All eyes turned to the open door. General Witherspoon stood just inside, expression almost sheepish. “If you don’t mind the intrusion there is something I’ve been meaning to discuss with you.”
A twinge of nerves licked Charley’s belly and from the tense set of Alex’s shoulders she knew he felt the same. She stood. Prepared to go to her husband if need be.
“Very well, sir,” Alex said reservedly.
Witherspoon cleared his throat. “I’ve been meaning to come clear the air between us for a while now. My wife has grown tired of my vendetta and to be truthful… so have I. I’ll see to your reinstatement with all haste as well as the promotion to Lieutenant Colonel you should have seen last year.”
Alex blinked in utter astonishment before a huge grin split his face. “That is wonderful, Sir. Thank you.”
Charley’s heart stumbled and skipped clear over a beat as the bottom fell out from under her. Promises of Scotland lingered in her mind, and she’d all but forgotten the threat of him rejoining his regiment in the last weeks. The thought of being left alone to have a baby terrified her, but she would never keep her husband from his true happiness no matter how painful.
“However, I’m afraid I
’ll have to decline the offer,” Alex continued, and her heart kicked into a full gallop. “Just last week I officially resigned my commission.” He turned to Charley eyes aglow with such gentle passion her frantic heart all but stopped. He crossed to her, sliding a possessive palm over her belly. “It seems I’ve finally found my way home.”
Epilogue
Dover Lodge, Scotland
December 24, 1813
“Is everything ready?”
“Aye, milady,” Mrs. Porter, Dover Lodge’s portly housekeeper, nodded busily. “The goose and venison are ready to be cooked, the rest of the menu you selected is simply divine and Cook is already working away at the pies. Why he is so excited to have a family to cook for again. We haven’t had a true Coverstone Christmas celebration here in what must be fifteen years.”
Charley smiled. “It’s my hope to have many more to come. In fact we have no plans to leave Scotland anytime soon. My husband and I have grown quite weary of London.”
“Can’t say as I blame you there. I was born and raised in the country myself.”
Peevishly, Charley couldn’t help but wonder if Veronica—who deplored the country—was enjoying her secluded Christmas in northern Wales. Johnston and Baker had likely hanged by now…
“Mrs. Porter!” Cook’s voice bellowed from the kitchen, breaking the depressing train of Charley’s thoughts.
“Oh, heaven help us all.” Mrs. Porter rolled her eyes heavenward and turned to answer the call. “Oh, and, Lady Coverstone?” She glanced back.
“Yes?”
“The special items you requested are ready in your quarters.” The housekeeper winked merrily and went on her way.
“Excellent.” Charley rubbed her hands together nervously. Almost everything was ready for Alex’s Christmas surprise. Now all she needed was him.
As if on cue a gust of dastardly cold wind blew through the front hall as the heavy wooden door groaned, admitting Alex with Jack happily perched on his shoulders.
“We found it, Mama,” Jack called triumphantly.
She smiled. Hearing mama from his lips never failed to send her soul soaring. “You found the Yule log? How wonderful.”
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