So Wild A Heart

by Candace Camp

  She remembered now her questions about one of the tenant farms and how much more prosperous it looked than the records indicated. Why hadn’t she realized what that meant? It had been foolish in the extreme to simply take Strong’s explanation on faith.

  The fact was, she had been too distracted to give the estate the full attention she should have paid to it. There had been the renovation of the house and grounds, of course; those things had taken away a good deal of her time. But the biggest distraction had been Devin himself. She had been too busy trying to get him to fall in love with her to really notice much of anything else.

  Unfortunately, it looked as if she might have to pay for that inattention with her life.

  She thought about the first “accident.” It had happened immediately after she met the estate manager. She recalled his amazement when she had told him that she would be running the estate herself. No doubt until then he and Uncle Rupert had expected to be able to continue the same game that they had been playing with Devin’s estate all along. Perhaps they had even thought that they would now have her money at their disposal, as well. Upon hearing the truth, Strong must have rushed to arrange the first “accident,” knowing that she would be exploring the library that afternoon.

  When that failed, Uncle Rupert had invited her out for a ride along a trail where a limestone rock could conveniently split her skull open. Then there had been a lull of a few weeks without accident. Perhaps when their books had held up to her inspection they had decided that murder would not be necessary. But in the past week or so, they had now tried to kill her three times: the drug in the hot chocolate, which Elizabeth had drunk; the cellar; and now this. Something had frightened them into renewed action. She wondered what it was.

  Of more immediate importance, of course, was when Devin would return home and when he would set up another search for her. Given the fact that he had become convinced that Leona was the culprit, she had to wonder if he would even worry about the fact that she was not in the house. All she could do was hope that he would. But even if he was worried about where she was, how could he realize that she was at the abbey?

  No, she thought, she could not afford to trust in Devin’s rescuing her. She had to make plans for herself. The first thing, of course, was to find a weapon that she could use against them when they came back—provided they were planning to return, of course, and had not simply thrown her into this room to die a slow death of thirst and starvation. She shoved aside that discouraging thought and began a slow perambulation of her prison. One hand trailing along the earthen wall, she walked, sweeping the floor beside her with one foot, searching in the almost nonexistent light for something she could fashion into a weapon. A few times she came upon small rocks, which she pocketed, but after circling and crisscrossing the room, that was still all she had.

  Miranda sat down on the bottom step and examined her discoveries: three rocks, two a little larger than pebbles and one that would fit into the palm of her hand. She thought for a moment, then removed her handkerchief from the pocket of her dress. Spreading it out on her lap, she centered the three stones on it and neatly tied them up in it so that she had a small sack with the rocks firmly lumped together, and therefore larger and heavier than they were singly, and with the advantage of having a knot of material beneath the rocks by which she could grasp and wield the makeshift weapon. It was not, perhaps, the most dangerous weapon she could have—she wished sincerely that she had decided to carry a pistol or a knife strapped to her leg—but it was better than being unarmed. Besides, she would have the element of surprise on her side. Uncle Rupert and Strong would not expect her to have a weapon; she was obviously not the sort of female they were accustomed to.

  She heard a sound above her head and went still, listening. There was the neigh of a horse, then the faint sound of a voice. She thought about shouting—it could, after all, be a stranger, or even Devin looking for her. But common sense told her that it was Rupert or Strong, or both, come to finish the job, and the best thing for her to do was to appear as weak and helpless as possible.

  Therefore she hurried back to the wall where she had been when she came to, and she slumped down upon the floor, closing her hand around her weapon and thrusting it into her pocket.

  At the top of the stairs, the trap door opened and fell back with a crash. A moment later, a man’s legs appeared, then the rest of his body. It was Rupert, carrying a lantern that cast light around the small dank room. Down the stairs behind him came Strong, looking distinctly unhappy.

  “I don’t know why we can’t just leave her,” Strong was saying, his voice close to a whine. “She will die without our help.”

  “Yes, but what if my nephew takes it into his head to search the abbey?” Rupert snapped. “It seems just the sort of thing he would do. We can’t risk anyone finding her before she’s had time to die. She could tell everyone all about us. We just discussed this, Strong.”

  “Yes, but…”

  “Buck up, man,” Rupert went on impatiently. He had reached the bottom of the stairs now and turned his lantern’s light on Miranda. “Well. I see you’re awake.”

  He did not look happy about that fact. Miranda supposed it would have been much easier to finish her off if she were not awake and watching. She sat up, trying to appear groggier than she felt. “Uncle Rupert…”

  “Oh, don’t try to get around me by being all female and helpless now,” he said, his voice cantankerous. “If you were like other women, this never would have happened. I don’t understand why you had to be the way you are. Always poking and prying into everything…If you had just left it alone, there would have been no problem.”

  “True,” Miranda replied dryly. “You could have continued robbing Devin blind. No doubt you were hoping you could do the same to my fortune, as well.”

  “Well, it isn’t as if he noticed…or cared,” Rupert argued petulantly. “Devin never had any idea what went on up here.”

  “Made it easier to embezzle money from him, I’m sure,” Miranda said sarcastically. “But, you know, I think you have gone too far this time, Rupert. Devin is bound to notice that something is amiss when his wife dies in yet another mysterious accident. He will begin searching for what reason someone had to kill me. Don’t you think eventually he will find out?”

  “Nonsense. He will be the main suspect. Who else would want to kill a rich wife except the husband? I am sure it is he who Mr. Upshaw will concentrate on.”

  Miranda’s hand tightened on the rock. “So you are not content with stealing from your nephew? You intend to get him sent to the gallows for murder, as well?”

  Behind Rupert, Strong made a noise, turning pale.

  Rupert frowned at her. “No. Of course not. With luck, no one will suspect anything. This wouldn’t even be necessary if you were not such a damnably prying, bullheaded female! Pushing me out of the way. Taking over. Having to go see the tenant farms yourself. And going to Apworth Mountain! Who would have dreamed you would take it into your head to see that godforsaken place!”

  “Apworth Mountain.” Miranda stared at him. “You mean…you have to kill me to keep me from seeing Apworth Mountain? Is that it?”

  “Of course,” Rupert replied pettishly. “Devin knows nothing about the contract. Even he would be bound to notice the mines.”

  “The mines? My God, of course! I was right. There are minerals there, aren’t there? You have been mining it, and Devin doesn’t have any idea.”

  “Oh, stop yammering,” Rupert said irritably, bending over to grasp her wrist and pull her to her feet. “As if Devin deserved any of it anyway. He is a wastrel and—”

  Miranda did not resist the older man’s tug at her arm. Instead, she came up with it, propelling herself forward with all her strength as she whipped her hand out of her pocket and flung it upward. The sack of rocks connected smartly with Rupert’s head. He made an odd noise and collapsed, going over backward under the force of her forward movement.

  She to
re past him and up the stairs, blasting into a surprised Strong on the railingless steps. He staggered backward, flailing his arms, and fell off the side of the stairs, landing with a thud a few feet below on the earth. Miranda did not stay to see what happened to either him or Rupert. She was already up the stairs and out onto the ground.

  The bright sunlight outside blinded her, and she staggered forward, shading her eyes. Where were the horses she had heard? She heard a noise behind her and whirled around. Two horses stood just beyond the low stone wall, loosely tied to a bush. At her sudden appearance, however, they skittered nervously, and when she whipped around and rushed toward them, they broke and ran, tearing free of their loosely tied reins. Miranda ran after them uselessly, cursing herself for her impetuous plunge toward the animals. Behind her she heard a roar, and she knew that Uncle Rupert must be up and after her.

  She took her to her heels, jumping over the low stone wall and darting around another higher wall. It was not long before she was completely lost in the ruins. She stopped, panting, and leaned against a wall, listening for the sounds of pursuit. She heard nothing, and cautiously she edged around the corner of the wall. If she could just get away from the abbey and into the woods, she felt sure that she could elude Rupert and Strong.

  As she slipped around the corner, however, she heard a cry. She whirled around and saw Strong in the distance, running toward her. Rupert was not far behind him. Miranda whirled and took off at a run. She was in the large open square that had once been the abbey courtyard. A half-fallen wall loomed before her, and beyond that, she knew, there was a large empty field between her and the hiding places that the woods offered. She thought she might be able to outrun Uncle Rupert, who was, after all, getting up in years and had also been hit in the head. Strong, however, was a different matter.

  She scrambled over the wall and ran full tilt. Behind her she could hear Strong yelling. And then, in the distance, she saw the figure of a horseman approaching them. Joy swept over her.

  “Devin!” she cried and ran toward him now instead of the woods.

  The horse leapt forward, bearing down on her in a run. Miranda dropped to her knees, sobbing for breath. She felt the rush of air as the horse tore past her, and she turned to see Devin launch himself off the steed straight at Strong.

  After that, it was all over in a matter of moments. The force of their collision knocked the air from Strong, and Devin followed it up with a right upper cut to the chin that sent him into unconsciousness. He leapt to his feet and ran toward his uncle, who decided to turn and run in the opposite direction. It was of no use. Devin was on him in a moment, and he, too, hit the ground, unconscious.

  Miranda staggered to her feet as Devin turned and ran back to her, sweeping her up in his arms.

  “Are you all right?” he asked, holding her so tightly to him that she could hardly breathe and kissing her all over her face. “Oh, my God, Miranda! To think I almost lost you! Tell me you’re all right.”

  Laughing, gasping, she managed to answer in the affirmative. “Yes. I’m fine. Thank heavens you got here in time. But how did you know? How did you get here?”

  He hugged her, held her at arm’s length to inspect her and make sure she was all right, then pulled her to him again. “When I got home and you were gone, I knew something was wrong. I had already realized as I was riding home that I had been wrong about Leona—I mean about her trying to kill you. She looked utterly blank when I accused her of it. She is skilled at deception, but I knew that look was real. She didn’t know what I was talking about. So I questioned the servants, and one of them remembered seeing Strong and Rupert heading out the back with a rolled-up rug, which they put in a wagon. That seemed decidedly odd, and it looked even odder when a groom told me they had brought back the wagon and rug, then gone out again on horseback. I followed them. And when I got close enough, I saw you running. What happened?”

  He held her out at arm’s length again and looked at her. “What is going on? Why in hell were Uncle Rupert and Strong trying to kill you?”

  “Well, it’s a long story.”

  Devin glanced toward the two prone figures on the ground. “That’s all right. I think we have a while before these two wake up. Tell me.”

  Quickly and concisely, Miranda related what had happened that morning after he left for Vesey Park to confront Leona. Devin listened in amazement.

  “But why?” he asked, when she had finished telling him how Rupert had threatened her with a gun, then knocked her unconscious and taken her to the abbey. “Why would Uncle Rupert want to hurt you?”

  “They thought I was about to discover their secret—although I’d been so stupid about the whole matter, I rather wonder if I would have. In short, they were cheating you, Dev. I think they must have been taking money from the estate for years and pretending that it was actually losing money. In reality, only you were losing money.”

  He stared at her. “I can’t believe it. The estate was actually prospering?”

  “I think so. I knew that the entries were incomplete. I thought Mr. Strong was stupid…a bad manager. In reality he was quite clever. Perhaps I would have caught on if I hadn’t been so, well, caught up in you, but I’m not sure. Anyway, they were afraid that I would find out. And they didn’t want us to visit Apworth Mountain.”

  “What?”

  “It was something that Rupert said when he was talking about why he had to kill me. He’s set up mines on your estate that you know absolutely nothing about.”

  “I can scarcely take all this in.”

  “I know. It is so bizarre.” Miranda shivered. “It’s amazing, the lengths that people will go to for money.

  Rupert intended to kill me.” She leaned against Devin’s broad chest. “But then, fortunately, you came along and saved me.”

  “It seems only fair, my love,” he said lightly, holding her out from him and looking into her eyes. “After all, you saved me.”

  He bent to kiss her, and, with a happy sigh, Miranda surrendered her lips to his.

  Epilogue

  Miranda rose and stretched. Pushing back her chair, she left the estate manager’s office, locking the door behind her, and strolled across the yard into the main house. It was quiet inside Darkwater now that the day was ending and the workmen’s hammers and saws had stopped. The renovation of the house was proceeding nicely, but Miranda had to admit that she would be grateful when she and Devin left for their belated honeymoon trip to Italy and she would no longer have to hear the sounds of the workers rebuilding the house. They would have left long ago had she had not felt the need to spend the last month making sure that the estate’s affairs were all in order.

  But that was all settled now, she thought, and she could turn her attention to packing. Also, Joseph and Elizabeth had gotten back yesterday from their extended trip to Scotland, and Joseph could tend to the renovations now, while Miranda and Devin spent the next four months traveling.

  Time, Miranda knew, would heal all wounds. She could and would forgive Elizabeth for the attacks on Devin. But it had been much less awkward with Elizabeth gone for the last month, and it would be easier, too, for them all to deal with each other after a few more months. Devin had spent the last month getting better acquainted with his daughter, though, of course he had not—and would never—let Veronica know even by a hint that she was anything other to him than a younger sister-in-law.

  Rupert and Strong were both now in prison. Miranda had suggested letting them emigrate to a colony, instead, to avoid scandal for the family, but Devin had insisted on turning them in to the authorities. “They tried to kill you,” he told her, his eyes bright and hard as stones. “If they were not to go to prison, I couldn’t let them live.” Miranda had quickly agreed that prison was called for.

  Miranda went up the stairs and along the corridor to Devin’s studio. It was where he could usually be found. He turned at the sound of her footsteps and smiled.

  “Miranda. Come look. I finished your portrai
t.”

  Miranda smiled and went forward obediently to look. It was the fifth of her portraits he had finished and, according to Devin, his favorite. It would hang, he had decided, in the entryway downstairs. In the painting she was wearing a bloodred gown, vivid against her white skin. Like all of Devin’s paintings, it was filled with light and color, and it made Miranda look, she thought, more beautiful than she really was. However, she never complained to Devin about his paintings in that regard.

  “It’s lovely,” she told him, slipping her arm around his waist.

  “I still haven’t quite captured that quality,” he mused, studying the portrait.

  “What quality?”

  “The quality that is uniquely you.” He grinned down at her. “That is why I’ll keep on trying.”

  “People may get tired of your painting my face over and over again,” she teased.

  “Ah, but you see, that’s the beauty of it—I don’t care. I don’t have to sell my paintings. I am, after all, a wealthy man. You told me so yourself.”

  “You are indeed,” Miranda agreed. “I think I have all the estate’s affairs in order now.”

  “That’s good. Then we can leave for Europe soon.”

  “Do you want to hear the sum total of your assets?” Miranda asked.

  He smiled at her. “It won’t mean much to me. I think I shall leave all that in your capable hands.”

  “It was that sort of attitude that got you into trouble in the first place,” Miranda scolded him playfully.

  “Ah, but the difference, you see, is that I can trust you.”

  “Yes.”

  “I love you,” he said simply and bent to kiss her.

  Miranda took his hand, and they strolled out of the studio and along the corridor to dress for dinner.