No Hiding For The Guilty (The Heart of a Hero Book 5)

by Vanessa Riley

  "You sound jealous, but surely you are just biding your time for your next strike at Moldona."

  "Ohhh." She started pacing and mumbling to herself. A few of her choice words he caught, something to the effect of him being a burro, a donkey.

  He tripped her on her second pass with his ankle and shoved her with enough momentum to launch her into his lap.

  She tottered and clasped the strings of his nightshirt. "Bannerman. Not fair."

  "Why don't you tell me, Isadel, what is fair? You didn't kill Moldona and you didn't take my horse and return to the Abbey. Why are you still here? Tell me. Don't be withdrawn, hidden like in a pastry shell."

  "You can make jokes about cooking. I haven't been in the kitchen in a few weeks."

  "A chef without a kitchen is almost as bad as a man engaged to a woman he is unsure of. I've admitted what I feel about you."

  She drew the strings of his shirt about her fingers, her long slender hands. "I haven't cooked in a week. Wouldn't you suffer if you couldn't do what you wanted?"

  He smoothed the hair tumbling on her face. "Yes, there are a great many things I want to do. "

  He fingered her cheek and watched her eyes grow dark. "I want to feel the satin of your face."

  "What's stopping you? Gloves?"

  "I'm not well. I don't want to not be able to give you—"

  "Tomorrow is not promised. You and I both know that."

  He sat up straight and took off one glove. With his pinkie, he traced her jaw, stroking it to that hidden tune he'd seen her move to.

  Her silky skin grew warm as he touched the fullness of her cheeks. He tickled the curve of her neck as he played with the lace encircling it.

  "Is that all you want, Hugh?"

  "Enough for now with a killer in the house or one or two on the way as word spreads of this gathering." He pulled her deeper into his arms. "As I think about it, there is never enough of you."

  She lifted her head and took his lips. Not a short kiss. Not a play kiss. Not an ugly cousin kiss. She kissed him waiting for his mouth to accept her. She grasped his collar and yanked him closer.

  There was nothing shy about her embrace.

  Leaning back, he let air cool his still hungry lips. "I guess this means you like me at this moment."

  "This moment."

  "I'm going to go downstairs and retreat. I mean get something to eat. That new chef is not what I've been used to."

  "Then I will go too. Lady Rhodes told me it's my duty to keep you well satisfied. I suppose that still applies if I am now your fiancé."

  Food may or may not have been what Elizabeth meant, but being away from the temptation of his chamber had to be better, especially when Isadel hadn't owned up to loving him. Donning his gloves, he led her to the stairs. In quiet, they moved in lock step. Having her at his side smiling felt right, lasting.

  When they got to the kitchen, she pointed to a stool. "You sit, Hugh Bann-er-man."

  There were traces of biscuit flour on the table. "I thought you hadn't been cooking in weeks. You've been in here tonight."

  She shrugged. "I saw you didn't eat. I kneaded biscuits for your breakfast."

  Back in the domain she seemed to love, Isadel appeared to be at peace. And he liked her like that. He liked himself, watching her filled with joy.

  "But that is for breakfast," she said. "I'll see what I can fix for you now." She looked around, poking at the stove then moving into the scullery and back. "My knife is missing. I hope your kitchen staff has not dulled it. She took a dull knife and hacked through a thick barley loaf, cutting it into sections. She slathered them in butter and put them in a pan aside the hearth. "Nothing like crunchy toast to begin our meal."

  "Are you fine with your choice of letting Moldona live?"

  She clanged a spoon on the side of a cast iron pot. "I have to be. I have doubts and as you said, you can't have those and be able to live with the decision. I've taken on too much guilt already. I don't need blood too. Let's not talk of him."

  Hugh knew the pain she felt, but the burden of taking the wrong life is something no one should bear.

  In the cast iron pot, she put the remnants of the pheasant and before his eyes could grow heavy, he smelled the heady scent of gravy, the sizzling of garlic and onions.

  "Now we eat like the best peasants." She smeared the gravy on the crusty bread with a little of the warmed through duck meat, then presented matching saucers. She slid one to him and began to nibble on the other. The taste of this food had heart and spice. It was Isadel.

  Devouring the sandwich, he still found himself aching in hunger, hunger for love, and a life that he should not claim. "What do you want, Isadel?"

  "The sandwich is enough."

  "What if I want this sandwich every night?"

  "I could make you one, but I could make other things, Hugh."

  "Isadel, I feel healthy and powerful now. I'm not sure about next week. The contract I signed will give you some means."

  "What are you talking about?"

  He reached for her and swiped the butter from the crinkle corner of her lip. "Isadel, do you love me?"

  She dimpled and opened her mouth to respond when a shaking Elizabeth ran into the kitchen.

  "He's dead."

  Hugh moved to his stepmother and held her up by the shoulders. "Elizabeth, calm yourself. Tell us what has happened."

  "I saw a light in your study. I was going to chastise you for working when your fiancé, who was a success—

  Hugh led her to a stool as Isadel fanned her with a plate. "Elizabeth, please. Just tell us who is dead."

  "Moldona. He's been stabbed in your study."

  Hugh hugged Elizabeth then pushed her into Isadel's arms. "Stay in here. The Almeida Killer is here."

  When he turned to leave, Isadel was behind him.

  "No, sweetheart, stay here."

  "Not letting you go alone and you can't stop me."

  "Fine. Elizabeth, hide in the scullery."

  There was no time to argue so he gripped her hand. They ran down the long hall until reaching the threshold.

  He wanted to have her wait outside, but she'd witnessed a massacre before. How much worse could things be beyond the door? "Come on."

  Inside, the window was wide open. The new curtains fluttered. A man was slumped at Hugh's desk.

  They walked over and sure enough Moldona was face down.

  Isadel shuttered and Hugh wrapped her arms about her. "Well, you wanted him dead."

  "Yes, but I left him alive."

  "You mean on the dance floor?"

  "No. Here."

  Lighting a candle from the scounce, he tried to sound normal, without panic or accusation. "Isadel, dear?"

  "He said he had something to tell me about my father. I met him here."

  He wanted to ask her again if she'd killed Moldona, but he knew her too well. She would have said so. "What did he want?"

  "He thanked my father for aiding the regiment at Almeida and for trying to save his friend."

  Holding out the candle, Hugh moved from her and studied the window. No broken panes. "The killer did not come from the window. They are inside Sandon. Did Moldona say anything else?"

  "He made another inquiry about us. I slapped him and left. He was redder, the bounder, but alive."

  Hugh went over to the desk again. Moldona had scrawled something in ink. 'Sandon, Explosion, St. C.' What could that mean?

  That feeling that something else was going to happen pounded in his chest. "This was a warning." He went to the window again and stilled the ghostly curtains. Caught on the sill was a wool cord. He flicked it. The stench of sulfur, the perfume of explosions, wafted. This was a detonation cord. Angling the light, he saw the wool leading to a barrel. If full of black powder, it would be enough to blow the face off Sandon. He cut the cord on it and cast the end far from the stash, a temporary fix. "It's a detonation, Isadel. The killer wants everyone dead."

  She grabbed his arm. "Hugh, ho
w do we get everyone to safety?"

  "You suddenly care about the English? Aren't we getting our just desserts, chef?"

  "They are your guests. I care about you, so I care about them."

  "Well, I don't want to start a panic. I am going to take you back to Elizabeth."

  "I'll not leave you. Someone needs to take care of your hands."

  The look in her eyes, so filled of warmth and tenderness, Hugh knew for the first time what her nonsense statement meant. "You are stubborn. We'll need to fix that if we live."

  Phipps bounded through the door. "You found one at this window, too?"

  "What do you mean, too, old man?"

  Taking a huge breath like he'd just run a marathon, Phipps pointed to the hall. "Outside the front entry. Is that Moldona?"

  "Yes, Isadel and I found him dead."

  His man wiped at his sweating brow as he came to the body. "A knife to the back? Bannerman, with more explosives outside, the Almeida Killer is here."

  "Isadel, go to Lady Rhodes. Phipps, let's follow the detonation cord."

  "No, Hugh. I want to stay with you."

  "Please, Isadel. I can't do this and be concerned about your whereabouts. I need you to listen to me." She nodded and left the study.

  Phipps and Hugh jumped out the window and ran into the black night. "My hope is we are ahead of the killer."

  "You sure it's not Miss Armijo?"

  "Yes, Phipps."

  "That knife wound in Moldona was a very personal way to kill. And why stab him with all these bombs set to explode?"

  Phipps made a good point, but nothing prepared Hugh for seeing the cords tied off at Henry's grave. "You are right. Moldona's killing was personal and the killer is still in Sandon."

  "You mean killers?"

  "No. The killer. It all makes sense."

  They took off running again. When they got to the door, he cut open one of the oak barrels. The air filled with the scent of the battle, smoky black powder. He filled his pockets with it. "We're walking into a battle. I don't know what we'll face, but Phipps, save Elizabeth and Isadel. I don't want them hurt."

  They opened the door and eased inside. A new line of cord lay on the floor of his study.

  This was intentional. The fiend wanted Hugh to know and to agonize about the powder and the cords.

  "No more games. Phipps, it's time we strike."

  Chapter Fourteen: Who Do You Love

  Isadel stared out the high window of the turret. So many emotions ran up and down her spine, twisting her to the breaking point, but the knife at Lady Rhodes' throat made Isadel think and rethink her actions for she didn't want the countess hurt. What would Hugh do at this moment? What spy tenet would he invoke? "Why are you doing this?"

  The fiend, Betsy Moldona, made Lady Rhodes stumble forward then knocked her into Isadel. She unraveled the last of her long detonation cord. If she took a candle and lit the cord, everything would be lost.

  "The Almeida commanders with their wrongheaded plan killed my brother, Charles. He was my baby brother. He didn't need to die and be left in some unmarked grave. It's all their fault."

  Isadel focused on thinking through an escape, but she squinted at the sparkle of her soiled knife, her knife the evil woman held, that she'd killed Moldona with. "Because your brother was a war casualty, all must die? Why hurt Lady Rhodes or the other wives who have come with their husbands? They've done you no harm. And though Lady Rhodes can be a little irritating and wears too much rouge, she's a very nice person. Let her go."

  Lady Rhodes patted Isadel's arm. "Thanks, dear, I think. Betsy, this is ridiculous. You let Isadel go. She's done nothing to you."

  "She's the perfect foil. The crazy mulatto chef killed them all when Hugh let her play house at Sandon."

  The countess shook her head. "That's not a reason."

  "Does anyone need one to blame you, Miss Armijo? If Mrs. Nev. lives, she'll do all the dirty work of spreading the lies. Lies will become truth, like saying my brother left out a barrel of black powder and caused the death of six hundred men. That's a lie. Charles would never do that."

  The woman was crazy. Her mourning of her brother had surely turned her crazy. "How do you know if it is true or not? You weren't there, Mrs. Moldona. You have no way to be certain."

  "My husband was there. He's the one who quoted this garbage to me. He won't ever do that again."

  If that wasn't a confession, Isadel didn't know what one was. She looked to the door, hoping in her heart that Hugh would come and save them, but he wasn't there. "If you set off the detonation cord, you are going to die with us. You can't set the charge and run clear of Sandon, Mrs. Moldona."

  "Maybe, maybe not. It doesn't matter anymore. I wonder who Hugh will morn more, me the woman he's loved all his life or his mistress."

  "She's his fiancé," Lady Rhodes said as she pointed to her chest. "I made that happen."

  "You old harlot. You ruined a very good plan. I was going to torture him one last time with my marriage to Moldona, but then you made this strumpet happen. He didn't care a whit about me."

  As if Lady Rhodes had forgotten that Mrs. Moldona wielded a knife, she stomped her foot. "I'm sorry for you, but things change. People change. Betsy, you can stop this now and make things right."

  "What is right? My brother was a boy too young to decide to follow in Hugh's big footsteps. You don't know what it's like to lose someone you love, how it eats at you day and night."

  Isadel did know. She knew better than anyone and it gutted her that she and the fiend had that in common. "I do. The war stole everything I cared for in this world. My family was slaughtered by your soldiers."

  Wide eyed, she stuck her gloating face over Isadel. "Well, you're about to lose Hugh, too."

  It wasn't wise or prudent and against all the rules Hugh had tried to teach her, but she slapped the snow off Mrs. Moldona's cheek, leaving it ruby red.

  "You shrew." The woman reached out to strike, but Isadel ducked. The fiend tried again but wobbled as a large boom shook the room.

  A fireball blazed outside. Isadel could see the oranges and reds through the rattled windowpanes. It had to be a huge blast, bigger than what Hugh had showed her. Her heart ripped open wide. Hugh couldn't be lost.

  Dust hung in the air as the sound of men and women awaking, screaming, and running echoed all around them.

  Betsy rubbed her jaw then began to chuckle. "He was rusty. Hugh must've caused one of my explosions to go off. "It had more powder than you thought!" The woman shouted like Hugh could hear her. "I knew the rumors of him slowing up had to have some truth. Like last time I was at Sandon, I put in too much powder and ended up killing Henry, not Hugh. This time it got him. He'll join Henry at last."

  Whether it was the strain of the moment or regret for not telling Hugh she loved him, Isadel lifted her leaking face. "If you think this revenge will lead to peace, you are mistaken. You've dwelt and stewed in hate until you've boiled over. It has led you to madness. How will you face tomorrow, you unrepentant woman? It will crush you, what you've done."

  Tying off the cord, Betsy made the explosive look how Hugh made his in the park. "I won today. I don't care about tomorrow."

  Isadel brushed away the water basting her face. "The well of your soul is empty. It's not too late to turn from this."

  Betsy clapped her hands. "Henry, my beloved Henry, could've given that speech. We'll meet him soon, but you stay away from him. He's mine."

  "You killed Henry trying to hurt Hugh," Lady Rhodes crumbled to the floor. "Why hurt Hugh at all?"

  "Moldona and Hugh and all the others up to Wellesley, they killed my brother. At Almeida, they kept up the brutal fight until Charles St. Claire was struck. He would not have been there if not for Hugh."

  Dashing out of the tower might be an option, but the crazy woman could set the explosion and bring Sandon down on their heads. Isadel had to reason with her. That was her only chance to stop the fiend. All she had was the truth. Maybe it could se
t them free. "Your brother's death is his fault. He and Moldona left the powder barrel out that exploded and killed so many."

  "You lie, witch." Betsy walked back and forth, between the candle in the corner and the detonation cord. "You are a liar."

  "Moldona told me tonight. He tried to thank me for all the hard work my late father did to save your brother and so many others."

  Betsy paced faster. "Charles wouldn't have gone if not for Hugh. He idolized him and his military talk."

  "He was a second son, you twit. He was supposed to go into the military." Lady Rhodes cried harder. "Your treachery took dear Henry. Now you've taken my Hugh. "

  The crazed woman stopped and swung Isadel's knife life a meat cleaver at them. "Now, you and the liar will be dispatched. Then, I'll set off the final powder barrels. Sandon and all the bad memories will be no more. I regret that Wellesley is not here. For everyone else, time is up."

  "Not yet. According to my chef there is more time." Hugh was at the door. He tossed a bucket of water, hot steaming water on Betsy and her detonation cord.

  The fiend screamed and shook her wet arms and Isadel kicked her in the shin.

  Hopping and shrieking, Betsy dropped the knife. As she scrambled for it, Isadel knocked it away and it slid to Hugh.

  "You little she-devil." Betsy lunged at her.

  Arms tangling, Isadel punched at the octopus. She could feel the woman dragging her. It was as if evil gave Betsy super human strength.

  Hugh tugged on the mass of limbs. "I always wanted women fighting over me, but somehow I thought it would be more romantic."

  Isadel could feel his hands on hers, bare and rough on her arm, but she didn't want him hurt. "Back up, Hugh. She's crazed."

  Knocking the window fully open, Betsy tugged and had Isadel's head on the sill.

  The world looked upside down and grey, so much like that night when she first arrived at Sandon, when she wanted to jump. But that was before Isadel found herself and her place at Hugh's side. It was before she truly forgave herself for all the guilt and blame she'd kept in her heart. She was worthy of a future, one steeped in hope, just like Hugh. She wasn't going to let Betsy or anyone else take it from her. She fought the arm that had fastened about her neck.