Lord Rogue

by Tiffany Green

  “Please, don’t,” Phyllis sobbed.

  Jeremy ground his teeth together and turned to his sister. “Do not cry,” he said softly. “Just close your eyes.”

  “No, no,” she garbled, tears spilling out of the corners of her eyes.

  “Tell Evie I love her, will you?”

  Phyllis continued to cry and her shoulders shook.

  Jeremy took a slow, deep breath before turning back to face Montague. The man twisted his lips in a feral smile and took aim. And as fire spewed out of the barrel, he saw Evie’s pale face in the doorway, her screams drowned out by the explosion that knocked him back against the painted poppies covering the silk paper lining the walls.

  Pain tore through his chest and darkness crowded his vision. He tried to lift his arm and speak. He tried to tell Evie to run, to hide. But he couldn’t fight the hollow numbness driving out his awareness.

  He slid to the ground, hearing and seeing and feeling nothing at all.

  Chapter 29

  Evie limped to the doorway just in time to see fire spew from Montague’s pistol and hear the explosion reverberate through the room. She screamed as Jeremy crumpled to the floor, helpless to stop what had just happened right before her eyes.

  Montague threw the spent weapon down and drew the other one from his coat. He pointed it right at her. “Lady Fielding, you have excellent timing.”

  Her eyes dipped down to Jeremy, lying so still on the ground. “Please,” she whispered, her voice thick with suppressed tears, “let me tend to him.” She couldn’t imagine losing him now, nor how desolate her life would become. The world would turn ugly and gray without his bright presence there to lift her spirits. Jeremy brought joy and laughter wherever he went. People were charmed and couldn’t get enough of him. Not because of some façade he kept in place. Evie suddenly realized the truth. Because Jeremy’s true self shined through in any situation, under any circumstance. His goodness could not be masked and drew people to him.

  Evie took a step forward. She could not lose him now.

  Montague shook his head. “Stay where you are.” Then he glanced at something behind her. “Ah, the other Lady Fielding.”

  “Lord Montague,” Eleanor gasped, stepping up beside Evie. “What are you doing?” Then she noticed Jeremy lying on the floor and screamed, “What have you done to my son?”

  He peeked over his shoulder. “Taking care of another irritating Fielding.” He sighed and glanced back around. “You are a troublesome lady. I should have rid myself of you when I killed your husband.”

  Evie saw Eleanor’s hands go up to her mouth. “You killed Simon?”

  Montague nodded. “Lost my ring in the scuffle getting him into the water.”

  “Why would you do such a horrible thing?”

  “He was getting too close to the truth.”

  Eleanor lowered her hands. “What truth was that?”

  “That it wasn’t Freddy trying to destroy him and all his friends.”

  “It was you,” Eleanor said, her thin body shaking.

  “Yes.” Montague waved the pistol. “If Freddy and your husband became friendly once again, I would lose all those business transactions I had been working on for years. Freddy would end the Viper Nest and I would go back to porridge for dinner.”

  “You kept Freddy and Simon apart all those years? You made them enemies?”

  Montague snapped his brows together and pointed the pistol at Eleanor. “You started it, knowing how much Freddy cared about you. They never would have dueled if not for you, and Freddy wouldn’t have gotten shot.”

  Eleanor flinched. “I didn’t want either of them hurt.” She bowed her head. “I loved them both.”

  Evie wanted to place an arm around Eleanor, but she didn’t want Montague to stop talking. So, she listened, her gaze going back to Jeremy. Please, please do not die.

  Montague smiled at Eleanor. “Getting shot kept Freddy away from what I was doing. Don’t you see? Freddy locked himself away after that.” He shrugged. “And I ensured the brothers would stay apart forever. Putting the snake in Freddy’s room while he recovered was perfect. He always suspected Simon and I got to expand the business.” He sneered. “Freddy always thought he was the one in control.”

  “What if the snake had killed Freddy?”

  Montague shrugged. “He never spoke to anyone. I handled everything from that point forward. If Freddy had died, I wouldn’t have told anyone.” He gave a gravelly laugh. “Nothing would have changed.”

  “I think something very likely will change now,” said a man’s voice from behind Evie. She turned and watched Freddy limp forward out of the shadowy antechamber.

  He gazed at Eleanor, the hardness in his eyes softening. Then he turned to Evie. “You and Eleanor need to leave.”

  Evie shook her head, turning to Jeremy. “I will not leave my husband.” Then she saw Jeremy’s hand flinch. She froze, trying not to react. If Montague became alerted, he might just turn and shoot him a second time.

  Freddy must have seen the movement as well. He hobbled farther into the room, placing himself in front of her and Eleanor. Montague trained the pistol on the center of Freddy’s chest, not four feet away. “Stay where you are,” the man growled, his grip tightening on the handle.

  “You think I am going to let you get away with what you have done to my family?” Freddy asked softly, then banged the tip of his cane on the wooden floor. “There is something you should understand.”

  Sweat beaded up on Montague’s forehead and the man swallowed hard. The pistol shook slightly in his hand. “What is that?”

  Freddy let the cane fall from his hand and dove forward. He wrestled with Montague for control of the pistol, holding the man’s wrist up to keep him from harming anyone else in the room.

  Evie watched the two men scuffle and grunt, turn and twist around just inches from where Jeremy still lay on the floor. She bit her lip, wondering what to do. Both men tried to get control of the deadly pistol, but she knew it was a matter of time before the larger Montague would overtake Freddy.

  Then Jeremy’s hand snaked out and grabbed Montague’s leg, throwing the man off balance. With a surprised cry, Montague teetered on one foot, at the same time the pistol roared out a shot, throwing up a cloud of bitter gray smoke. Both men crashed down beside Jeremy, the spent weapon clattering to the wood, inches from Evie’s feet.

  Choking back a sob, she skirted the two men and hurried to Jeremy, crouching down beside him as he lifted his head with a moan.

  “Oh, thank God,” she whispered and helped him to sit up against the wall.

  Jeremy winced, his jaw clenched in pain, and he pressed a hand to his silver-blue coat, over the red stain the size of a teacup saucer. Then he dipped his hand into his coat and pulled out the mangled, bloody snuffbox that had a hole torn right through the center. The thing clattered to the floor and Evie reached over to untie his cravat and place it over the leaking hole where the ball had struck. Without the snuffbox, the shot would have been deadly, she thought, making her hands shake.

  “I will be fine, little bird,” Jeremy said softly, placing his hand over hers.

  Evie swallowed back her tears and nodded, then took a deep breath. She had been terrified of losing Jeremy, especially when she’d just learned he loved her as much as she loved him. If the last six years had been hard to bear, the rest of her life would have been hellish, to say the least, without Jeremy. Knowing he’d be gone forever when all they had was a moment of happiness would have sent her into the darkest depths of despair. She would not have wanted to go on without him.

  Hearing movement from behind, Evie glanced over her shoulder. With a gasp, she saw Montague rise to his feet with a satisfied smirk, wiping dust from his sleeves. “You shouldn’t have come here, Freddy,” he said, crossing his arms. “That wound looks fatal.”

  Freddy lay on the ground, facing away. Evie could see the growing pool of blood spreading out beneath the man and felt Jeremy’s hand tighten
on hers.

  “Yours, too,” Freddy wheezed.

  The smile fled from Montague’s lips and he frowned, eyeing Freddy suspiciously. “You don’t know what you are saying.” He spread his arms out wide. “I am not wounded.”

  “Yes, you are,” Freddy insisted, then coughed. “Your neck.”

  Montague lifted his hand and found the tiny dribble of blood below his right ear, leaking down to his white cravat. Freddy moaned and released the dagger in his hand. The black onyx and silver snake hilt had been separated from the blade and a long slender needle protruded out of the handle.

  “What did you do?” Montague growled, kicking the dagger under the bed.

  Freddy gave a raspy laugh. “Giving you what you tried giving me all those years ago.”

  Montague’s eyes went wide. “What are you saying?”

  “Viper venom.” He coughed weakly. “I cannot believe I thought my own brother would do that to me. I should have known Simon better than that. It was you.”

  “Yes,” Montague hissed, “I did it. And when your brother came to see you after he shot you, I knew I had to use the snake to keep you two apart.” His leaned down. “You had to hate him enough to stay away. I couldn’t have you interfering with my plans.”

  “What plans?”

  Montague straightened. “My fellow worshippers will no longer live in secret. We will merge the two organizations and become so powerful, no one will stop us.” He paused and a wild glint sparked in his eyes. “I will lead them both, together, as one. The time has finally come. I have gained enough power and been the true leader for so long, no one will even know you are gone.”

  Evie shivered with the thought. Montague would no doubt hold his sacrificial rituals for anyone who opposed him. With Freddy gone, the man might just succeed in unleashing hell to those who did not submit to him.

  “Except, you won’t be leading anyone,” Freddy panted. “You’ll be dead.”

  Montague crossed his arms. “My lord will see that doesn’t happen.” He raised his brows. “After all, the venom is over twenty years old and I doubt very potent.”

  “Not so old.”

  As the man spoke, Evie saw Ghost slip into the room. He sneaked up behind Montague without making a sound and when the man quit speaking, clobbered him over the head with a fireplace poker. Montague’s eyes rolled back and he crumpled to the ground beside Freddy.

  Elder, Belle, and Dragon swept into the room as Ghost leaned down and tied Montague’s hands and feet with rope, knotting the ends tightly together. He glanced over to Jeremy. “Lady Amersleigh is waiting.” He nodded toward the antechamber. “I’ll send her in.”

  Evie took a deep breath of relief as Dragon and Ghost carried Montague out and Amelia rushed into the room, her heavy black medical bag in hand. She took a step toward Jeremy, but he shook his head. “My uncle first,” he said, nodding toward the now unconscious man. Eleanor crouched down and grazed his cheek with the back of her hand, then rose. With a nod to Jeremy, she went to the bed and held Phyllis’s hand.

  Amelia rushed forward and opened her bag. “How are you, Lady Montague?” she asked toward the bed, then waved Evie forward to help her roll Freddy onto his back.

  “Just help my family and I will be fine,” she said, although Evie could detect the pain in Phyllis’s voice.

  When Amelia opened Freddy’s shirt, Evie had to turn away. That could have been Jeremy, she thought as tears blurred her vision. The gaping hole had thick, dark blood spilling out and his breaths were shallow and uneven. She wiped the wetness from her eyes and turned back to watch Amelia dig the ball out of Freddy’s chest with a small metal utensil. “Got it,” she said, then nodded to the stack of clean white cloths beside her bag. “Evie, hold those over the wound so I can wipe my hands and sew him up.”

  “Will he live?” she asked her friend.

  Amelia pressed her lips together, then shook her head. “I honestly do not know.”

  When she finished with Freddy and stopped the deadly bleeding, Amelia nodded to the two waiting footmen. “Place this man in a room nearby, and be very gentle about it.” Then she turned to Jeremy and frowned over at him.

  He shook his head feebly against the silk wallpaper. “Please, check on my sister first.”

  With a sigh, Amelia rose to her feet. “Do not move until I look at your wound,” she ordered and moved to the bed.

  Hours later, Evie sat beside her husband and watched him sleep. His thick brown lashes rested over pale cheeks and his honey hair was slightly disheveled. As a clock chimed the late-night hour, she leaned over and smoothed his silky hair in place, thanking God yet again she hadn’t lost him. His brows drew together and his eyes opened, unfocused for a second, then sharpened on her face.

  “I am not going to die, little bird,” he garbled out, his words thick from the strong medication Amelia had dribbled into his mouth earlier.

  A hot, salty tear skidded down her left cheek. “I know.” She wiped it away with her sleeve and gave a sniff. “But I could have lost you.”

  “You didn’t.” His hazel eyes glowed with sincerity. “And you won’t. I will be here, at your side, Evie, for as long as you will have me. I love you.”

  Evie wiped another tear away and dried her eyes. She leaned forward. “I love you, too. I always have and I am not going to stop now.” Then she pressed her lips to his for a long, soft kiss.

  When she leaned back, he started to say something but a knock sounded and Eleanor appeared around the door left ajar. “May I come in?” She smiled when she saw Jeremy awake. “How are you, my darling?”

  “I will be fine, Mother,” he said then motioned her forward.

  She nodded and settled on the chair at the other side of the bed, then glanced at him with some hesitant expectation. “You have questions,” she said with a sigh and adjusted her skirts. “I do not think now is the time—”

  “It’s past time,” Jeremy said softly. “Tell me what happened between you and Freddy.”

  When Eleanor remained silent, Jeremy narrowed his eyes. “I have my suspicions about the reason Father and Freddy dueled. It happened around the time you lost your baby.” He lowered his voice. “But you didn’t lose him, did you?”

  Evie watched Eleanor’s face drain of all color, then she released a breath and nodded. “You guessed correctly. Myran is my son.”

  Jeremy raised a brow. “With Freddy?”

  Her eyes dropped to her lap.

  With a wince, he shifted his position. “Honestly, Mother, I am not judging you. God knows I have had numerous affairs with married women. I just don’t want there to be anymore lies.”

  Her shoulders drooped and she glanced up. “Yes, with Freddy.”

  “And Phyllis?” he whispered.

  Her eyes widened. “How do you learn such things?” she asked quietly, shaking her head. Then she stopped and gave a sharp nod.

  “And me?”

  She glanced up slowly. “No.” She reached for his hand. “You are Simon’s child, the true heir of Fielding.”

  Evie watched Jeremy close his eyes and settle back against his pillow. After a moment, he sighed. “Is that why Father shot Freddy? He learned about the two of you?”

  Eleanor’s eyes glistened with tears. “Some of the truth, yes. Freddy had come several weeks before Christmas, as usual. Two days after I had the child, Simon went to inform Lord Ashton but returned earlier than expected with Lord Ashton, who wanted to see the new baby. Simon found Freddy in my room, holding our infant son, and they began to shout. The truth just came tumbling out of Freddy’s lips, although thankfully, he said nothing about Phyllis.” She paused to take a deep breath. “When they dueled a short time later, Freddy got shot in the knee. Simon made him leave right away. Your father was so furious, I was afraid he’d send the babe somewhere and hide him from me forever. My aunt had come for Christmas, as well, having lost her husband just the month before. She had just birthed a son that morning, but the child died right before Simon’
s return. During the duel, the answer came. We switched babies when no one was looking. That way, I would always know where to find my boy.”

  Jeremy closed his eyes briefly and Evie wondered if he regretted wanting to know the truth. Then he glanced back to his mother. “You never had contact with Freddy again?”

  Eleanor dabbed her wet eyes with a lacy handkerchief. “When I was well enough to travel, I went to him and told him the child had died. His leg was still wrapped in bandages and he couldn’t move. He had dozens of drawings lying all over the room. All of them resembled the snake you showed me on that card.” She wrapped her arms around her middle and shivered. “After I told him, he simply said to leave him alone and never come back.”

  Evie saw the despair etched among the tight lines around her mother-in-law’s eyes and in every shadow that crossed her face after speaking of losing her son. No wonder the poor woman tried drowning her sorrows in a gin bottle, even twenty-two years later.

  Jeremy cleared his throat. “Has Freddy…?”

  The handkerchief went back to Eleanor’s eyes. She sniffed and shook her head. “No, he is holding on to life. Although just barely. Lady Amersleigh is working herself to the marrow between him and Phyllis.”

  “Phyllis is well?” Jeremy asked, his voice growing strained from fatigue and pain. Evie drew her brows, but remained silent. He wanted to hear what had happened while he’d been asleep and would not rest until he did.

  “Yes.” Her first genuine smile spread over her lips. “And has given me a grandson, who is also doing well for his early arrival.” She sighed and shook her head. “Lord Montague, however, is another matter. It looks as though the poison Freddy administered is potent enough. Lady Amersleigh believes he will not last the night.”

  Jeremy frowned, his eyes drooping with exhaustion. “Montague is still here?”

  “Do not worry, darling, that man is tied up and under guard. If he happens to survive, and I doubt it very much, he will be held accountable for his crimes.” She leaned back in her chair. “Lord Bentwood told me to tell you those very words when you woke.” Her lips twitched. “All but the darling part.” Clapping her hands together, she rose from her chair. “Well, I had better make certain Phyllis hasn’t settled on a name yet.” She pulled a face. “Else, the poor little fellow will have to suffer with the likes of Abner or…”