by Sandra Heath
“But if mine was the pistol that misfired and the nail was then discovered, surely that would point the finger of suspicion at Thomas Denham?” Dane observed in puzzlement.
Kathryn clenched her fists in frustration. No, not at Thomas, at me! Pendle is going to say that I did it to rid myself of a husband I hate, who stands between me and the man I really want!
George thought for a moment, and then his eyes cleared. “Would it? There’s someone else who might be construed as having good reason to wish you dead.”
“Someone else?” Dane stared, then his lips parted. “Rosalind? Is that what you’re suggesting?”
“It’s not what I’m suggesting at all, but it’s what I believe Pendle would have suggested if the pistol were examined. When I received your message requesting my services today, and informing me he was Denham’s second, I naturally went to see him. He made his opinion of Rosalind very clear indeed. He blamed her for leading his saintly nephew astray. Thomas Denham, like his brother William before him, was as pure as the driven snow.”
“William Denham was far from pure,” Dane replied with feeling.
“I believe you, for you wouldn’t have called him out without good reason. Anyway, let’s consider how events might have unfolded if you had died and Thomas emerged victorious. Pendle would know that the trickery with the nail might not be discovered at all. It’s hardly unknown for a handgun to fail, and in this case it was a gun that had already been damaged in the past. So Thomas probably wouldn’t question its failure, and Pendle certainly wouldn’t. Which would only leave me, and if I discovered the nail, Pendle would instantly prevent any accusation of Thomas by accusing Rosalind instead. He’s no fool. Who better than an adulterous wife to want her husband dead? Yes, the more I think of it, the more sure I become. Pendle had it all worked out, but things went gravely wrong. His plan misfired, literally. He didn’t reckon on the disabled pistol going to the wrong man, and then he was too craven to save his nephew’s life by admitting the truth. Oh, he tried after a fashion, but when it came to it, he let Thomas go to his death. So much for his family loyalty! Now he has to make what capital he can from the situation. His purpose was to destroy you and save Thomas, and even now, with Thomas dead instead, he sees an opportunity to still do you harm.”
Dane gave him an admiring smile. “You missed your vocation, George. You have a superb analytical mind, and would have made an excellent barrister.”
“As it happens, the law was my first choice, but my father had other notions. Anyway, to return to the matter in hand—the way things have gone today, the facts are very damning for you, but they’re equally damning for Pendle. I’ve warned him what I would be prepared to say at a trial, and when he calms down a little I think he’ll see the wisdom of letting the whole thing drop. That’s by far the best outcome. Apart from anything else, we all four committed a crime when we met here this morning. I believe he’ll realize the hazard of making too much noise. If he lays charges against you, he not only has to admit to taking part in a duel, he also runs the risk of being charged himself.”
Dane smiled a little. “I hope you’re right.”
“So do I.” George smiled and put a comforting hand on Dane’s arm. “As for Denham, don’t shed tears on his account. He issued the challenge, and came here knowing one or the other of you, possibly even both, would die.” He paused. “Dane, would you take offense if I leave now? I’ve neglected my duties in order to be here this morning, and really should return to Gloucester to attend my patients.”
“Of course I won’t take offense, but actually, there’s something I’d like you to do first. Another patient, if you like. It’s Rosalind.” Dane explained briefly what had happened to her.
At first George was concerned, but then smiled when he learned Alice was looking after her. “My dear fellow, if that old witch reassured you all is well, you may take her word for it. Damn it all, Alice Longney probably knows more than I do!”
“I admit to being relieved she was there.”
George searched his face. “While you’re about it, why don’t you also admit you’re still in love with Rosalind?” he asked quietly.
Dane said nothing, but George pressed him.
“Damn it, Dane, it’s as clear as crystal to me. No matter what she may or may not have done, you can’t stop loving her, can you?”
“Very well, I admit it, but it’s something that’s to remain strictly between you and me,” Dane replied at last.
Kathryn closed her eyes. He did still love her! There was hope!
George raised an eyebrow. “No word of it will pass my lips, but there’s just one thing.”
“And that is?”
George looked toward the spot where Thomas died. “Are you sure beyond all shadow of doubt that she and Denham were lovers?”
“Quite sure.”
“Since trials have been threatened these past minutes, perhaps a legal comparison might be appropriate. Could you swear in court that your wife was Denham’s mistress?”
Dane glanced at him. “Well, short of having caught them actually in the act...”
“What did you catch them in, Dane?”
“A loving embrace.”
“Was it?”
“Yes.”
George raised his doctor’s bag. “If this bag were a Bible, could you put your hand on it and say on oath that what you saw was a loving embrace?”
Dane looked at the bag, and then at his friend. “I believe it was a loving embrace, but she claimed she was trying to get away from him,” he conceded.
“Which means she has a different version of what happened. Dane, you owe it to her and to yourself to hear what she has to say.”
“I hardly think it’s fitting now, do you? Denham’s dead, and no matter what, mine was the shot that killed him. It’s a little late to ask her for explanations.”
“It’s never too late.”
Dane drew a long breath and looked away. George studied him curiously. “What aren’t you confiding in me?”
“Nothing.”
“I don’t accept that; I know you too well.”
Dane smiled. “Very well. It’s foolish, I know, but in the last few days I’ve almost felt as if...”
“Yes?”
“As if Rosalind were two women in one. Twins, with disparate natures, one passionate and truly in love with me, the other cooler and in love with Denham. Do you understand what I mean?”
George shook his head in bewilderment. “No, dear boy, I don’t. I suggest you ask her.” He glanced up at the sky as the sun broke through at last. “A fine Lammas Day, I believe,” he murmured.
“Lammas Day? Is it?”
George smiled. “Yes, and as such an ideal day for new beginnings. The first corn is cut today, and I believe you, my friend, should begin cutting back the weeds that spoil your life right now. Well, I’m off then. If you need me, you know where I am, for the time being at least. I’ve decided definitely to go to America. It’s an opportunity too good to miss.”
Dane watched him cross the grove to attach his bag to the saddle once more, and then mount. Waving once, George turned the horse and rode away.
It was as he disappeared beyond the trees that the invisible wall between Kathryn and the grove seemed to crumble away too. Suddenly she could step toward Dane and call his name.
He whirled about, and their eyes met. For a long moment he remained where he was, and then he began to walk toward her. Hope surged pitifully through her, but it withered wretchedly away as he passed her without a word.
Chapter Twenty-nine
The agony of despair still keened through Kathryn as she hurried after him. “Dane, please let me explain!”
“I want nothing more to do with you,” he replied abruptly as he continued swiftly along the path toward the stepping stones.
“You must talk to me, Dane!”
“Why?” He paused at the water’s edge. “How long had you been at the clearing? Did you calmly observe t
hroughout the confrontation?”
“I... I got there just after the shot was fired,” was what she said, but she wanted to say she’d been there long enough to hear him admit he loved her.
“And now, I suppose, you wish to add your accusations to Pendle’s. Your lover lies dead, murdered because I cravenly feared to face him on equal terms! Well, I salute you, madam, for your infidelity has not only achieved your lover’s demise, but my disgrace as well.” He sketched an insulting bow, and then crossed the river.
She hurried after him again, almost losing her balance on the stones. “I haven’t made sure of anything, Dane, and far from accusing you, I know you to be innocent!”
He halted at a point that was barely ten yards from Thaddeus Talbot’s body. “So you think me innocent? Well, I suppose that’s to be expected. After all, with Denham gone, you have to think of yourself, don’t you, and it’s clearly preferable to endure life here with me than face what might await you if I throw you out.”
“I know you’re innocent, Dane,” she said again.
“And I know you to be guilty, madam, so pray obey my order of last night. I want you off my land, and out of my life!”
He walked on again, and she cried desperately after him. “Jeremiah Pendle coerced Thaddeus Talbot, the Gloucester gunsmith, into fixing the pistol so it wouldn’t fire!”
He turned swiftly. “Talbot?”
“Yes. He was the one who attacked me last night. I was in the drawing room when I saw him climb in through the window. He took the pistol case from the cabinet, but then realized I was there. He panicked and struck me, then he did whatever he’d come to do, replaced the case in the drawer, and then left the way he came. He rode away in this direction, but his mount took fright by the stepping stones and bolted into the woods.”
Dane’s lips parted. The stray horse at the castle! He glanced along the path toward the river, remembering the hoof prints he’d noticed earlier, and the groan he thought he’d heard. Recalling the latter, he looked sharply at her. “How do you know this?”
“Because Talbot’s body is just over there.” She pointed into the trees. “He was dying when I found him, and he told me Pendle threatened to put him in jail for debt unless he did as the banker wanted.”
“Show me where he is,” Dane ordered.
Reluctantly she obeyed, stepping into the gloom of the woods and leading him to the gunsmith’s resting place among the crushed ferns. Dane bent swiftly to test for a pulse, but the moment he touched the already cool skin, he knew Thaddeus Talbot was indeed dead.
Kathryn looked down at the corpse. “He died at almost the same second as Thomas. I heard the shot and stood up, and when I glanced down again, he was dead. I wanted to tell you what I’d learned, so I ran to the grove.”
“Intending to clear my name, no doubt,” Dane said dryly. He straightened and began to walk back to the path. “I’ll have some men come to take him back to Gloucester.”
She followed him. “I’m telling the truth, Dane. I did come to the grove to tell you what Talbot told me!”
He replied without turning his head. “It’s barely a hundred yards from here to the grove, madam, and on your own admission you went there directly you heard the shot. Why, if you knew Talbot and Pendle to be the culprits, did you say nothing in my defense when you arrived? You must have heard every word that damned banker said, but you held your tongue.”
She stopped hurrying after him, for the truth was too preposterous. How could she possibly tell him she’d been kept out by some invisible force?
He turned. “You should have thought your lies through a little more carefully, my dear. All you had to say was that you arrived at the clearing the very second you spoke to me, and I might conceivably have credited you with telling a grain of truth, but as it is you admit to having been at the clearing for at least a quarter of an hour before saying anything. Hardly plausible, eh?”
“Dane, I—”
“Just go, Rosalind, before I begin to wonder exactly what your part has been in all this.”
“I haven’t done anything, Dane.”
“No? It seems to me that Pendle’s observations about you might have more than a grain of truth. You did indeed have as much reason as he did for wanting me dead, and even if Talbot’s was the hand that actually did the deed, you’re as capable as Pendle of hiring him.”
“I didn’t hire him, Dane, nor do I have any motive at all for wishing you dead. I love you, and that is the truth.”
“The truth? Deceit is your second nature, and I rue the day I ever set eyes on you, let alone fell in love with you. The two years of our marriage have been the most miserable of my life, more miserable even then the wretchedness I endured after Elizabeth’s infidelity, and the last thing I intend to allow now is more of your particularly persuasive brand of lying.” He turned to walk on again.
Once more she hurried after him. The wild clematis caught in her hair, and scattered dew over her face, but she hardly noticed. “Maybe most of our marriage has been unhappy, Dane, but can you honestly say that of the past few days?”
Suddenly he whirled about, catching her wrist and forcing her roughly back against a tree trunk. Then he pinned her there, his face only inches from hers. “You know damned well I can’t say it of the past few days, and you know it because you listened to everything George and I said! Damn you, Rosalind, what manner of creature are you? A Lorelei? Yes, that must be it, for who but a siren could behave as you do? You lured me with your beauty and sweetly lying voice, and I, poor fool, believed in you.” He took her chin roughly between his fingers, ignoring the tears that sprang to her eyes. “I’m still tempted to deal you the punishment you deserve, my lovely. Who would really blame me if I took you here and now? Whore or not, you’re still my wife!”
“I’m your wife, but not a whore,” she replied, her breath catching with pain as his fingers tightened cruelly.
“Agreed, for one must pay a whore, and you, my darling, give your favors freely!” He thrust her aside and she fell in the long grass beside the path. He stood over her. “I’ll find out the truth where Pendle’s concerned, of that you may be certain, and if he did indeed put Talbot up to it—”
“There’s nothing you can do, nothing either of us can do. Posterity is going to discredit you for having interfered with Thomas’s pistol in order to win the duel, and that is the end of it.” As the words came out, she felt something almost akin to a jolt that she’d actually been able to say them. She’d just told him something that was going to happen!
He didn’t seem to realize the significance of her words. “If you imagine I’m going to leave it like this, you’re gravely mistaken!” He strode away along the path, toward the edge of the woods and the sunlit meadows beyond.
Suddenly she knew she could tell him everything. Nothing but the whole fantastic truth would do now. Telling him wouldn’t be an attempt to alter history, nor would it interfere with the sequence of recorded events, but it might make every difference to the way he saw her. Maybe he’d think she was completely mad, but maybe, just maybe, he’d believe her. Was this what Alice’s fading intuition had predicted? Was this how the yearned for reunion could be achieved?
Sitting up, she called after him. “You likened me to a siren, but do you remember their story?”
He turned with a derisive laugh. “What’s this? A lesson in Greek mythology? Yes, madam, I do remember the story.”
“So, you recall they were twin sisters, one of whom fell to her death because Odysseus could resist her song?”
“That’s one version, yes.”
“I will suffer her fate if you resist me now, Dane.”
“Oh, come now, isn’t that a little melodramatic, even for you? I know you have talent enough for Drury Lane, but you don’t have to demonstrate as much to me.” His tone mocked.
“I’m not pretending, nor am I being melodramatic. It’s how I really feel. Dane, you were right when you said you felt there were twin Rosalinds, o
ne in love with Thomas Denham, the other in love with you.”
Slowly he retraced his steps, and stood over her again. “What is that intended to mean?”
“I know you think ill of me for not saying anything all those minutes I was at the grove, but I couldn’t say anything. I didn’t have any choice.”
“A silent siren? A contradiction in terms, surely?” he observed acidly.
“I have a story to tell you, Dane, and, believe me, it’s as incredible as any Greek myth.”
“Oh, it’s bound to be,” he murmured dryly.
“Will you promise to hear me out, and not say anything until I finish?”
He searched her eyes. “Very well.”
“Thank you.”
“Oh, don’t thank me, for I’m merely curious to know how far you’re prepared to go with regard to self-preservation. As I observed earlier, with Denham gone, you’re on your own.”
“Just give me the chance to tell you everything, then, and only then, will you be able to judge me, for at the moment you can’t even begin to guess the truth.”
“You have my undivided attention.”
“You’d better sit down, for it will take some time.”
He sat on the grass next to her, and she lowered her glance, twisting her hands nervously together. This was it, the moment of ultimate confession. She couldn’t even begin to guess what his reaction would be. He was of the early nineteenth century, brought up in the beliefs and principles of an age that regarded the paranormal as the work of the devil, so how could she expect him to absorb the sort of things she was about to divulge? She was from the much more open-minded future, where books and movies about time travel were commonly found, but even that hadn’t made it any easier for her to cope when it actually happened. Telling him was a leap in the dark, and she knew it, but it was a chance she felt she had to take. At the end, he’d either have her committed, or believe what she said. Please God, let it be the latter.