All You Could Ask For

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All You Could Ask For Page 52

by Angeline Fortin


  The trees rustled behind her, and Eve froze as she became aware of an ominous presence. Her initial instinct was to panic as unwilling fear flared to life within her once more, but she took a deep breath and pushed it aside ruthlessly. Though she could not stop her body from stiffening reflexively, she was pleased that her voice emerged cool and calm. “Not even bothering to come to the front door any longer, William?”

  “How did you know it was me?” He strolled into her line of sight and leaned against the trunk of a large oak.

  “You reek of incivility,” she sniffed haughtily. “How did you get back here?”

  Shaftesbury shrugged and said only, “It was quite simple really.”

  “I believe I told you I did not want to see you, William,” she said, keeping her eyes on her son and avoiding his steady gaze. “Why did you come earlier?”

  “I confess I was curious as to what might be happening inside.” William removed his gloves and slapped them idly against his thigh. “When I arrived, there were several police officers out front, and I wondered to myself what might possibly be amiss.”

  “I’m sure you were very concerned,” she replied with a touch of sarcasm. “While I appreciate it so deeply, your worry is completely unnecessary. The police have only escorted Lord Glenrothes to the coroner to identify the body of his ex-wife. It seems that she was tragically murdered last night.”

  Shaftesbury tsked with a shake of his head. “I heard. Tragic, indeed. It’s the talk of the town. The locals are calling for blood and demanding justice be done.”

  “Justice will be done,” she said with conviction.

  William shook his head and tsked again in a chiding manner. “Are your affections so fickle that you care not that your lover has been arrested for her murder? Yes, I know he has. Of course, one should distance oneself from such a scandal, so you are probably quite correct in your behavior. One never wants to be linked to a man about to be hanged at the gallows.” He turned his head and watched the boys through the trees as they played, though they could not see him.

  “I told you they did not arrest him, William,” Eve lied blithely. “He is a peer of the realm, did you forget? They do nothing here to their nobility. They are untouchable. Even if they thought he did it—were certain he did it—they would do nothing to him.”

  “He is a highland heathen among more heathens!” he declared in disbelief. “These people live for violence. I’m surprised a mob hasn’t demanded his head already.”

  “You do not know anything, do you?” she questioned mildly and was strangely pleased to see his jaw clench at her insult. “He is Glenrothes, William. His title is ancient and his wealth immense. He donates freely to the arts and orphans. He is a god among these people. They will not touch him.”

  When he remained stonily silent, she went on, “In truth, they have another suspect in mind, and the earl is assisting them in developing a description and search for the true culprit.” Bluffing was not her strong suit. She’d never been a good card player, but years of denying William the satisfaction of seeing her misery during his punishments had given her some talent.

  He wanted to see the same misery now. No doubt he’d come here expecting to find her in tears, wailing and bemoaning Francis’ fate. This was his punishment, after all. This is what his twisted mind had come up with. A deed that not only reprimanded her but castigated Francis as well. A blow to take them both down. William had always been evilly clever. She knew that was what he wanted from her now. He wanted her upset. He wanted to see her mourn for her lover.

  She refused him the pleasure. William would never bully her again.

  “You lie,” he hissed.

  “I do not.” Eve finally looked up and leveled him a cool glare. His expression was confused and disgruntled. It was not at all what he expected to hear. She was so enjoying turning the tables on him. Her voice took on a gleeful satisfaction as she lowered her tone to ape a gypsy fortune teller. A portent of doom. “They know it was you, William. They know you did this horrible thing and framed Glenrothes. They are coming for you. You will not get away with it.”

  Incredulity froze his features as he scanned her, searching for the truth. After a moment, his expression evened, and he lowered himself until his face was inches from hers. “Oh, but I will, my dear, and do you know why? Because if they come for me, I’ll send your precious Laurie to the bottom of the loch in a burlap sack.”

  Bravado fled in an instant. “You wouldn’t!”

  “As I mentioned before, I can always make another son. Which one is he?” He studied the two boys. “I confess I cannot quite decide. Perhaps I will just kill them both.”

  With a blink of horror, Eve could only gape at him.

  Shaftesbury leaned back against the tree and studied his fingernails dispassionately. “You would be surprised how a year in a Chinese jail can change a man, my dear. It can change a man’s priorities. There will be no humiliation in my life again from any source, and that means from you. Your behavior with the earl is beyond shocking. The expediency with which you had me declared dead, appalling. But I need you to regain my fortune. Then perhaps I will do away with you as well,” he shrugged.

  The blood drained from her face over the course of his monologue. “You’ve gone mad!”

  “Merely determined, my dear. There is nothing I will not do to get what I want,” he added. “Please keep that in mind as we move forward. Your brief love affair caused this, Evelyn. It is all your fault.”

  “Glenrothes has been my love since before we married, William,” she hissed as her disgust was pushed aside by anger. Mother wolf indeed. “He has held my heart for longer than I have known you. I have been his lover for years.”

  “Lie!” He brought back his hand, forcefully catching her across the cheek and throwing her to the ground.

  Eve glared up at him, holding her cheek. The pain of his blow rang through her head. It must have addled her mind as well for she couldn’t stop the further insult that fell from her lips. “Laurie’s not even your son.”

  “Mummy?” Laurie called in a shaking voice as he saw his mother fall to the ground. “Mummy, are you all right?”

  “Run away and get help, Laurie,” she urged as she scrambled to her feet.

  The boy hesitated, wanting to protect his mother but fearful as well. Nonetheless, he gripped his golf club tightly and squared his little shoulders with all the nobility ingrained in him. “Move away from my mother, sir.”

  Shaftesbury stared at the boy with an odd mixture of pride and loathing. He searched his features but saw only Evelyn stamped there. There was nothing of him, but still, she must be lying. Lawrence was his son, he was certain. If for no other reason than that he’d never allowed his wife any freedoms that might allow her a lover. “Put down the club, son. Don’t you know who I am?”

  “No, sir. We’ve never met.” Eve couldn’t entirely stop the rush of pride she felt at hearing her son’s disdainful tone. “I will have to ask you one more time to leave.”

  William chuckled. “You would fight me? Do you not know that I am your father?”

  “My father is dead, sir,” he piped certainly, as Tristram wandered over, curious to see what was happening.

  “I’ll tell you what.” William reached out and grabbed Eve, pulling her over to him. “You come for a little ride with your mummy and I, and I promise not to hurt her. What say you?”

  The boy wavered, his gaze frantic on his mother’s as he tried to determine what to do. Eve fought against William, trying to get away and cried desperately, “Run, Laurie! Both of you. Now!” William backhanded her once more as he started toward the boys.

  “Get Uncle Richard!” she yelled as she spat out blood. “Trist, get your papa!”

  The boys took off at a run and William pulled a pistol out of his pocket and aimed it at the backs of the fleeing children with a considering expression. His aim moved from one boy to the other as they retreated.

  “No!” Eve threw all her we
ight against him.

  His shot went awry, and the boys screamed in terror as they fled to the house. To her dismay, she saw that his gun was a Colt .45 six-shooter. A favorite of the Americans, she was surprised he would condescend to carry one. Still, he had five more chances in the gun to prove his point.

  He turned and glared down at her. “Unwise, my dear. We must leave now.”

  “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

  “Come with me now, or I will shoot the others as they come out the door.”

  The madman he’d become, he would do it, too. She had no choice but to comply.

  Chapter 46

  Hatred is blind, anger is foolhardy,

  and he who pours out vengeance

  risks having to drink a bitter draft.

  ~ Alexandre Dumas from The Count of Monte Cristo

  Pushing aside her fears, Eve braced herself against the sides of the carriage as William urged his driver to go faster. After a few streets, they slowed to a more reasonable pace, and she was able to settle herself more firmly on the seat. William had dragged her along the footpath behind the townhomes to the end of the row where his coach had been waiting on Gloucester Street. Though they had passed behind at least ten other homes, she hadn’t seen another person. Such a quiet neighborhood was why the homes overlooking the Water of Leith were so fashionable. Without finding aid along the way, she’d had no chance to call for help or run away but, instead, had been pushed into the carriage and whisked from the locality.

  “Well, my dear, you made the correct choice and saved the lives of your friends.” He adjusted his waistcoat and settled the pistol in his lap. “I realized quickly you were merely taunting me with your allegation of Lawrence’s paternity. The time to have had such an affair was never made available to you. I see that now.”

  “Do not speak to me, William,” she hissed. “You’re a vile bastard. Your very presence offends me in ways unimaginable.”

  He caught her upper arm tightly, causing her to wince slightly and shy away. “It seems that your wild side tends to shine through when you are away from me, my dear. It will be my pleasure to reeducate you to a more becoming manner.”

  He patted her cheek, but Eve jerked away and glared at him. “There is nothing you can teach me. If I were you, I would concentrate on my escape because right now a mob of angry Scotsmen are tracking us down and, believe me, they will kill you when they find you and damn the consequences. Am I worth that much to you?”

  “Unfortunately, my dear, you are.” He curled his lip as if as disgusted as by his answer. “I need your company, and I require you to be alive for a while longer. If I did not, I would kill you here and now for all the humiliations you have rained upon the earldom these past weeks.”

  She scoffed in a most unladylike fashion. “And you are a shining example of nobility? In any case, what could you possibly need me for?” She scanned the passing scenery, trying to determine an escape from him. Now that Laurie and Tristram’s safety was ensured, she turned her thoughts to saving herself from whatever evil he had planned for her. Where were they? It seemed that rather than heading out of town, they were moving toward the center, down toward The Mile that extended between Edinburgh Castle and Holyrood. She wondered why he would head into a populated area but decided she did not care.

  The town meant traffic, and traffic meant they would have to a more moderate speed. She could call for help. Surely someone would hear her. But would they assist her? People became notoriously blind and deaf when faced with violence. Better to ignore a cry for help than risk their own safety.

  The droning of William’s voice caught her attention, and she turned back to him. “What did you say?” She hadn’t even realized he’d answered her question.

  “Bounty hunters from China are tailing me. I require access to funds beyond the paltry amount I have in my possession to bribe them into calling off their pursuit.” His scowl deepened. “Because of your actions, I cannot access the monies of the estate since I have been declared dead. It might take years to regain my position, so I need you to get it for me.”

  “You stole the vase back?” she asked in amazement, ignoring the bile he was spewing. “Even after you were put in jail for a year, you still stole the vase before you got away?”

  “Obviously, I took the vase and another as well, in fact,” he snapped irritably. “I didn’t spend all that time there for nothing.”

  “Incredible.” She blinked in disbelief, shaking her head. “I thought many things about you, William, but I never took you for an utter imbecile.”

  Shaftesbury’s hand flew out and slapped her, throwing her into the side of the window. Groaning against the window frame, Eve saw the buildings of Edinburgh’s government district racing by. As the courts flew by in a blur, she gasped at the realization that she knew where they were. And if the courts were near, that meant…! She wondered if William had any idea.

  She turned to see him glaring at her, and her mind raced. “You were never one for violence, William. Time has changed you.”

  “I told you, prison changes a man.”

  Eve eyed the pistol loose in his lap and scrambled for an idea, anything to get out of the carriage quickly before they had gone too far. Her eyes narrowed mockingly. “It changed you so much you weren’t able to do the most logical thing you might have done in this scenario? Giving back the vases would probably solve the problem. Truly, what sort of dolt trades his own life for a piece of pottery? Only the stupidest bastard…”

  His hand snapped out again and, even though Eve was expecting it, the pain still dulled her senses for a moment. But as she was flung against the side of the carriage once more, she recalled her wits enough to grab the handle of the carriage door and jerk it down. Her weight pushed against the portal and flung it open., She let her momentum carry her out of the carriage. Tensing against the anticipation of more pain, she wasn’t disappointed as she landed on the cobbled road on her back, scraping her hands and arms in an attempt to protect herself against the oncoming traffic when a wagon passed near her head.

  Fighting the pain, Eve forced herself to her feet, desperately trying to untangle her skirts even as she heard William call for the carriage to halt. Scrambling to gain her footing, she started forward and cried out against the shooting pain that raced through her hip. Forcing herself to run, she turned back up the street toward the police station they had passed a couple of streets back.

  As she heard footsteps pounding behind her, adrenaline and panic fed her, allowing her to forget the pain as she fled like a hunted fox. Picking up her skirts, she ran full out as she had as a child in Newport, gaining speed as she went, but still she heard him behind her. Her long legs flashed out beneath her skirts, her pink silk stockings drawing whistles before onlookers realized what was going on.

  “Help!” she screamed breathlessly as she ran. “Help me! Somebody please help me!”

  “Hey there, man!” she heard someone shout behind her. “Leave that lady alone!”

  A quick glance over her shoulder showed two men in suits trying to detain William on her behalf. Taking advantage of their intervention, she turned her attention back to her flight. The reverberation of a gunshot nearly sent her stumbling. Fearing for the lives of her saviors, Eve glanced back again to find the two men now held motionless by the gun in William’s left hand, but in his right was another, pointed directly at her.

  “Stop, Evelyn”, he shouted but her turned her back and continued running. He had a pair of guns? she gasped in disbelief. Another shot rang out, and the crowd in front of her cowered with cries of surprise and terror as a bullet hit a lamp post to her right. Every instinct in her body urged Eve to drop down and cover her head like everyone else, but she denied herself as she saw her destination a few buildings ahead, even as the pounding feet behind her grew in volume. He would not shoot her, she tried to reassure herself. He just said he needed her alive.

  A few steps from the police station, she recognized the
man exiting the doors as one of the agents who had come for Francis that morning. The one who had wanted to put him in shackles. “You…you…oh, blast it! The killer…The real killer is chasing me!” She flung her arm back, pointing the way. “Help me!”

  The detective took in her dishabille and cast a skeptical glance, ready to dismiss her, before he recognized her. “Lady Shaftesbury?”

  The man’s gaze darted past her, and his brows shot up in surprise, but rather than ensure her safety he only frowned and raised his hands in the air. Dismayed, Eve turned to find William not twenty feet away, pointing a pistol at the man.

  “Stop right there, Evelyn,” William gasped catching his breath as she inched toward the entrance of the building. “You’ve only delayed the inevitable, my dear. Now let’s go.”

  Eve eyed the pistol directed at her, aware that the detective stood frozen in the face of the armed man before them. Did William not realize where he was, or was he so completely crazed he didn’t care? What kind of insanity was it for him to think this was a good idea? “Look around you, William. Do you not realize where we are?”

  Shaftesbury looked up at the building for the first time, and a frown creased his brow. “It matters not. I am armed, and they are not. Come, let’s go now.”

  “Are you truly so mad?” She gaped in amazement. “You cannot kidnap me in front of a police station.”

  “Lady Shaftesbury,” Shaw whispered urgently, fearfully eyeing the man who held him at gunpoint, sensing the villain wouldn’t hesitate to pull the trigger. “What is going on here? Who is he?”

  “This madman is the murderer…”

  Shaftesbury’s hand whipped out again, and the butt of the pistol caught her with a glancing blow. Raising a hand to the wound, Eve wavered where she stood.

  “Now see here!” Shaw protested, lowering his hands instinctively in defense of an injured lady. “You can’t treat a lady like—” A shot sounded, and Shaw fell to the ground, clutching his shoulder in surprise.

 

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