His Improper Lady--A Historical Romance

by Candace Camp

  Desiree barely glanced at it, backing away from him. The alarm that had been growing in her all day was now clanging. Her words came in a whisper. “She was right. Mrs. McGee was right, wasn’t she? Alistair killed my mother.”

  “We don’t know that,” Tom protested, pulling her close to him. “Here, now, you’re trembling. That could have been attached to anything.”

  Desiree pulled back. “Such as? Someone just happened to burn something here twenty-eight years ago that looked remarkably like a clasp used on luggage?”

  “You don’t know when it was burned. The place has been abandoned for years. Vagrants could have camped here anytime. Twenty-eight years is a very long time for ashes to remain.”

  “You don’t need to sugarcoat things for me, Tom. I’d rather know the truth, no matter how terrible it is. This is why I’ve been feeling this sense of disaster! That’s why it’s so strong. Don’t you see?”

  “Yes, I see. I just don’t want you to...”

  “Be hurt?”

  “Yes,” Tom admitted.

  “I’m already hurt. I was hurt twenty-eight years ago when my mother was taken from me. I never got to know her. But at least now I know why. It fits, Tom—you have to agree it all fits. Why a woman who by all accounts loved her children left them without a word. Why a woman went away on a weekend trip with her lover and never returned. Why she didn’t take her most precious jewels and keepsakes. Why she left with only a single piece of luggage. There was no letter from Stella saying that she had fled to America, only Alistair’s note to his good chum Pax, a man who would of course believe him. My father murdered her.”

  “How can you be certain of that?” He took her shoulders, staring intently into her eyes. “Is it your brain talking or your inner sense?”

  Desiree opened her mouth to speak, then stopped abruptly. “I’m not sure.” She looked away, her hand going to her stomach. She didn’t feel satisfied. There was no sense that it was over. The urgency still pulsed in her, tugging her away.

  “Desiree? What is it? What’s going on?”

  “I’m not sure.” She looked at him, her eyes wide. “I think there’s more. I—I need to go somewhere else.” Desiree started toward the door.

  “Where?” Tom followed her, reaching out to pull the door open for her.

  They froze, staring at the scene in front of them. Another carriage had pulled up beside theirs, an odd, low-seated vehicle. And a woman was striding from it toward them.

  “Tabitha!”

  “That’s Lady Moreland to you.” Tabitha stopped a few feet away from them. Her hair was in a neat bun beneath a small fashionable hat, and her gray suit with black trim was stylish. The only thing odd about her appearance was the wild light in her eyes. And the revolver she pointed at Desiree.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  “LADY MORELAND.” Desiree wasn’t about to argue with a woman holding a gun.

  “Lady Alistair Moreland.” Tabitha’s voice held a note of pride. “I am his wife! She was never anything but a whore to him. I was the one he married. I was the one who bore his heir, who carried his name.”

  “Yes. You are.” Desiree curled her fingers into fists, but she kept her face and voice cool and calm. Tabitha’s inner image was so dark and incongruous with her outer self that it was jarring; Desiree could barely stand to look at her. What was wrong with this woman? What could possibly be in that will that was so important she would chase them down, waving a gun?

  “Good afternoon, Lady Moreland,” Tom said politely from where he stood behind Desiree. His fingers curled around Desiree’s arm, and she knew he intended to pull her aside. His other hand was still holding the door. In a pleasant, conversational tone, he went on, “I see your carriage. Where is your driver?”

  “I don’t need him. As if I can’t handle the reins myself! I am an excellent horsewoman and an excellent driver. My papa taught me. Just as he taught me to shoot.”

  “You’re the one who was watching my house?” Desiree asked, frankly puzzled, but also understanding that Tom wanted to spin the conversation out, make the woman relax before he made his move. “Why?”

  “Of course. I had to. You were stirring it all up. Poking your nose into everything. Dragging the Morelands into this. They’re fools, just as he was. All the Morelands are soft. Now you’ve turned them against me. Against Gregory.”

  “I haven’t—”

  “Don’t lie to me, you little doxy. I know you’re a thief. I know you stole Alistair’s will. Falk told me you did.”

  “I don’t have your blasted will!” Desiree shot back. “Falk’s lying.” Was lying. Desiree stumbled to a halt, her eyes widening. When had Tabitha spoken to Falk?

  “Oh, I know he’s always been a liar, but not about this.” Tabitha smiled. “Having a gun aimed at a man tends to bring out the truth.”

  Tom’s fingers bit into Desiree’s arm. “You shot Falk?”

  “That wretched little man!” Tabitha said bitterly. “He wanted more money! Can you imagine?”

  “He was blackmailing you?”

  “Yes, of course he was.” Tabitha sounded impatient. “That’s always what the little worm did, isn’t it? He took Alistair’s money for years.” She snorted. “As if I didn’t know about Alistair’s harlot! I was the first person Falk came to, peddling his dirty information. After all, the scoundrel had been my family’s footman.”

  “Falk used to be a servant?” Desiree said, astonishment momentarily distracting her.

  “Until he stole our silver tea service.” Tabitha sent her a look of scorn. “No doubt you’re familiar with that sort of thing.”

  “But, my lady, why was Falk blackmailing you?” Tom asked, pulling Tabitha’s attention back to him.

  “That’s none of your business,” Tabitha snapped. She frowned. “Who are you, anyway?”

  “I’m Tom Quick, Lady Moreland,” Tom said. “We met not long ago at the duke’s house. I work with Con Moreland.”

  “The man that fool Blackstock wrote to? Of course! You must have helped her take the will.”

  “We don’t have the will.” Desiree knew it was dangerous to antagonize Tabitha, whose hand and eye remained remarkably steady and cool despite her rambling, hysterical words, and it was clear Tabitha would not believe Desiree’s denial. But Desiree saw a way to keep the woman talking...and maybe even get them out of this situation. She went on, sending a sly note into her voice, “But if we did have it, why in the world would we give it to you?”

  “You insolent little whore! You will give it to me.” Tabitha waggled the gun at Desiree, her face flooding with red.

  “How do you intend to make me? If you kill me, you’ll never get the will. It isn’t as if I had it on my person.” Desiree felt Tom squeeze her arm, and she tensed, readying to move. “If you kill me, you’ll never know where the will is. When it will pop up. Or where. Now, perhaps we could talk about price.”

  “You think you can bargain with me?” Tabitha screamed and took a step forward, extending her gun hand.

  Tom shoved Desiree away with one hand, and she went with it, diving into a somersault. With the other hand, Tom slammed the front door shut and threw himself after Desiree. Tabitha fired, and he heard the bullet thwack into the door as Tom leaped to his feet and followed Desiree, who was already halfway across the room, running to the side window.

  Desiree vaulted through it, and Tom swung his leg over the sill and jumped out after her just as Tabitha burst into the room. He hit the ground running, and Desiree heard another gunshot crash into the window frame behind them. Tom caught up with her, and they raced forward, zigzagging to throw off Tabitha’s aim.

  Tabitha and her revolver were between them and their vehicle, so they took off in the opposite direction, running along the edge of the cliff. It was a terrifyingly sheer drop to the beach far below, but they had to find a way do
wn. Up here in this flat, open countryside, they were much too easy a target. As if to prove Desiree’s point, there was another blast from the gun.

  The beach at least offered big rocks to hide behind, and surely a middle-aged woman would not be able to pursue them quickly, especially given the rickety state of those stairs down to the sand. More than that, Desiree had a growing certainty that she must go to the ocean. The miasma of pain and fear lay all over the area, but it had not been centered in the house they had just left. A force was drawing her like a magnet, propelling her onward. Downward. She wasn’t sure whether she was being called to danger or safety, but she knew she had to reach what beckoned her.

  Ahead of them, Desiree saw a cleft in the land where the edge of the cliff had fallen in, cutting a V shape into the ground. Instead of running around the newly formed edge of the cliff, Desiree ran straight toward it and flung herself flat on the ground to peer over the rim. The cave-in had created a less sheer path down to the sand and pebbles. It would have to do.

  Opening her senses to guide her, Desiree turned around and slithered backward over the edge. Above her, Tom let out a groan and dropped down to the ground to climb down after her. Desiree moved as quickly as she could, finding niches and outcroppings in the rock that shimmered in her mind, and guiding Tom from below as best as she could manage. Desiree slipped and slid down a few feet before she managed to grab a limb of a scrubby bush that had somehow survived the slide of rocks and dirt. Leaves and bark scraped her palm as her hand slipped down the branch, and the bush pulled partly out of the dirt, roots dangling. But she dug in her toes and clung to the wall, and the shrub held.

  She drew a shaky breath and looked up, redirecting Tom to the right. She edged over, finding an outcropping of rock, and continued down the cliff. Above her, Tom slipped but found his footing on a boulder, sending a shower of little stones and dirt down around her. Desiree ducked her head and continued her descent.

  The incline became less steep as they approached the bottom of the cliff, until they were able to stand up and run the last few feet to the flat ground. To the right, a stretch of sand ran up to an enormous black boulder that jutted out to the water’s edge, blocking their path. Tom glanced in the other direction, but Desiree grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the wall of rock. “No. This way.”

  “But she’s on the cliff. She can’t shoot that far.” Tom looked at the lone dark figure standing at the cliff’s edge.

  “Trust me.”

  Tom did, turning and hurrying with Desiree toward the dark wall of rock. Behind them, there was a shout, then a loud grinding noise, and they looked back. Tabitha stood in the open wooden lift, holding on to a rope as the box slowly descended the cliff.

  “She’s utterly mad,” Tom murmured.

  With luck, the rickety structure would fail. But Desiree never depended on luck. She took off running. As they approached the large boulder, they could see that a narrow strip of sand lay between the rock and the ocean. Water was lapping closer with each wave; clearly the tide was coming in, crashing around the line of large, dark stones that lay farther out.

  They slipped around the rock. A narrow inlet of water cut across their path and disappeared into a wide, dark hole in the cliff.

  “A cave,” Desiree breathed. “This is it.” She started toward the opening in the cliff, drawn inexorably toward it. The premonition that had driven her for weeks swelled inside her, stretching into the cave, pulling her with it, seeking...she wasn’t sure what.

  “Desiree?” Tom followed her. “What is it?”

  “Where I’m meant to be.” Her steps hastened as the power pulling her grew stronger, more insistent.

  “You think it’s better to hide here?” Tom’s tone was tinged with doubt.

  “I don’t know. I just know it’s why I came.” Desiree walked into the mouth of the cave, and Tom came up beside her.

  The inlet of ocean ran into the cavern, and they walked along a narrow ledge of rock beside the water. A few yards inside, the backwash of ocean ended as the stone floor began to rise, flattening out as it joined their ledge. A few feet farther on was a small pool of water. Beyond that was only looming darkness.

  Tom and Desiree stopped when they reached the pool, deep in the shadows. Desiree’s heart pounded and her breaths came short and fast. The darkness seemed to pulse, reaching out to wrap its cold tendrils around her, push its way into her.

  “I’m scared,” she whispered.

  “I know.” Tom released her hand and wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close. “But I’m here with you. I love you, and I intend to marry you. I’m not about to let anything take you from me.”

  Warmth flooded Desiree at his words, pushing back the cold fingers tangling through her. Whatever awaited her, they would face it together. She smiled up at him. “I love you.”

  They clung together for a moment, then Tom stepped back and dug into his pocket. “Let’s light a match. See what’s here. Maybe we can get far enough back she won’t find us.” He struck the match and lifted it up to peer into the darkness.

  As Desiree turned to look back at the mouth of the cave, she glanced into the pool beside them. “Tom!” Frozen, Desiree stared down into the shallow water.

  At the bottom of the pool lay two skeletons, side by side.

  Their clothes were mere tatters, their flesh rotted away. One skeleton was smaller than the other, and each had a rope around its chest, binding it to a large rock. Bits of gold glinted beside the smaller frame’s skull and on its neck and wrist.

  Tom, following her gaze, let out a startled curse.

  “It’s them,” Desiree whispered. “My parents.” The dark turmoil that had permeated Desiree for weeks drained out of her.

  The flame of the match reached Tom’s fingers, and he dropped it. Immediately he pulled out another. The little flare of light revealed the same scene.

  “They’re both—he didn’t kill her.” Emotions surged in Desiree—relief, sorrow, horror, anger—all too fast and intense to separate.

  “No. Somebody—” Tom’s voice cut off, and he and Desiree stared at each other.

  “It was her. Tabitha killed them!” Desiree’s voice rang out.

  “Of course I did,” Tabitha said.

  Desiree and Tom jumped and whirled to face Tabitha. She stood at the mouth of the cave, once again pointing a gun at them.

  “You killed my mother!” Desiree took a step forward, too filled with rage to consider the danger, but Tom grabbed her arm and held her in place.

  “Well, at least you’re braver than she was.” Tabitha switched to a high, mocking tone. “‘Oh, please don’t kill me. My babies! Yes, I’ll do whatever you say. I’ll go down to the beach with you. Just don’t kill me.’ Anyone with a grain of sense would have known she was never leaving this place.” Her lips twisted in scorn.

  “You heartless bitch!” Desiree’s hands curled into fists, and it was all she could do not to fling herself at the other woman.

  “She took everything away from me—even this place. It was mine. I loved it. Papa brought me here as a child. I knew every inch of that beach. That’s why Papa made it part of my dowry. But she took even that from me. Persuaded Alistair to turn it into a love nest. My cottage!”

  “You didn’t have to kill her!” Desiree shot back. “You were his wife, the mother of his heir. She could never have taken that away from you.”

  “Oh, yes, that’s what my mother kept telling me. ‘A lady turns a blind eye to her husband’s squalid little affairs. Alistair is only a man, and men are so easily led. You have his name, his position, his home, his prestige.’ But I didn’t have him!” Tabitha’s voice rose, her eyes flashing. “I tried. I’m a Darrington. A Moreland. I did what was expected of a lady. I ignored his peccadilloes and told myself he would come to his senses. But he didn’t! He was going to leave me. Trot off to live with his hu
ssy and their bastards. He was going to humiliate me! I could not let that stand. When I saw his letter to that Jezebel, gushing like a schoolboy about love and how happy they and their brats would be living together, I knew what had to be done. And I did it.”

  “I understand that you had to kill Stella,” Tom said, drawing Tabitha’s attention to him as he slid forward a cautious step. At the same time, he tugged at Desiree’s arm, pulling her back.

  Desiree knew what he was doing. He intended to position himself in front of her, to shield her when Tabitha fired. He would doubtless make a suicidal rush at Tabitha in an attempt to overpower her while Desiree ran farther back into the darkness of the cave to hide.

  But Desiree wasn’t about to accept that. She wasn’t going to run; she was going to attack. All nerves were gone now; she was filled with a steady, determined calm.

  Of the two of them, she was the one better able to bring Tabitha down. Instead of rushing at Tabitha, which was bound to fail, Desiree could dive down into a roll and come up beneath Tabitha’s arm, knocking the gun from her hand, but the distance between her and Tabitha was too great. She would have to move closer.

  Desiree’s inner sense told her that Tabitha would follow through on her threat to kill them, but she also knew the woman didn’t intend to shoot them just yet. Tabitha was insane, but she wanted that will. They could keep the woman talking while Desiree moved incrementally closer to her. It was too bad her abilities didn’t include moving as quietly and unobtrusively as Wells.

  Tom released his hold; he trusted her, and that warmed her. He continued to talk, drawing Tabitha’s attention. “What I don’t understand is why you killed Alistair, too.”

  “I didn’t want to!” The gun wavered under the force of her emotion. “Alistair wasn’t supposed to know. I was so careful. I planned it perfectly. And then that fool Falk ran to Alistair and told him!”

  “Falk helped you? That’s why he was blackmailing you?”

  “No,” Tabitha replied scornfully. “I didn’t need his help. I told you, this is my beach. I knew about this cave. All I had to do was get her down here, right by the entrance, before I fired the gun, and it would be easy to drag her inside. I wasn’t stupid enough to trust Falk. But the blasted man saw me driving the carriage, and he figured it out. He ran to tell Alistair. The man never missed a chance to make a little money.”