She flushed, pressing a hand against the curve of her belly. The wind tugged the clothes snuggly around her front making it impossible to hide the fact. “Yes. Colonel Witherspoon and I married, have you not heard the news?” she asked casually.
The reverend untied his cravat and leapt down the sandy embankment. His eyes glimmered with an intensity that made her very uncomfortable. “Such a pity,” he murmured. “I tried so hard to counsel you and keep you from the path of sin.”
Phoebe gulped, backing away. The path of sin?
Alistair continued steadily toward her. “And yet here is the proof that you’ve succumbed to the temptations of the flesh.” He pulled the cravat from his neck.
A chill swept Phoebe’s spine. Desperately she glanced about, she didn’t know what he was about, but she desperately sensed the need to escape. “Wh-what do you mean? I’m a married woman.”
“The colonel was away fighting in the war for some time. Given your advanced state you must have lain with him before any vows were spoken.” He grabbed either end of the cravat in each hand and stretched it out. “Now I must smite you and your sin from this earth.”
“What?” Panic seized Phoebe as the realization that he intended to kill her hit with full force. “No! Are you mad?”
“I am commissioned by the Lord our God to rid the earth of sinners and adulterers.”
He’s insane! “Murder is a sin.” She backed away from him as quickly as possible, trying to stall until she figured out some means of escape. “Thou shalt not kill. Surely you don’t mean to break one of the Lord’s commandments.”
He cocked his head to the side, eyes glowing with madness and malice. “God came to me in a vision and tasked me with the burden of purifying this earth. You have fallen, Lady Phoebe, and now you must pay for your sins.”
Phoebe whirled and sprinted hell bent down the beach. “Help me,” she screamed.
Alistair grabbed for her from behind and looped the cravat around her throat. Phoebe ducked and narrowly managed to escape his grasp. Her bare feet churned in the sand making it impossible to gain good traction. She slipped in the sand and fell forward. Alistair was on her in an instant. On pure instinct Phoebe rolled to her back, grabbed two fistfuls of sand and sent them sailing into the crazy reverend’s face.
Twenty-five
James stormed up the drive of the Corsair castle more than a little shocked that he hadn’t caught up with Phoebe on the way over. She hadn’t had more than a five-minute head start. After about two minutes of consideration he’d decided to follow Phoebe after all.
The front door of the stone keep opened and none other than Edward Landon emerged. His expression turned stony the instant he spied James on his property. “What the hell are you doing here, Witherspoon?”
“I’m here to see my wife,” he replied in a tone edged with steel.
Edward stilled on the stone steps. “What are you about, Witherspoon? Phoebe isn’t here.”
“Don’t lie to me, Corsair. There is nowhere else for her to go. She must be here.”
Edward stared at him hard before descending the stairs with slow deliberate steps. “What happened? Did my sister come to her senses and leave you?”
James hesitated, ignoring the insult, far more concerned with finding Phoebe as quickly as possible. He’d assumed she would run straight to her brother, but… “She really isn’t here?”
“What did you do?”
“Nothing.”
“Then why are you looking for her?”
“That is between my wife and me.” James forced his tone to remain steady. “Where would she go if she was upset?”
“You’re asking me?” Edward appeared thoroughly incredulous. “She’s your wife as you’ve seen fit to point out twice since your arrival on my property.”
“Where?”
“Now see here you no good—”
“Enough,” James interrupted, beginning to lose his cool demeanor. “I know damn well what you think of me and I don’t bloody care. Believe what you will, but the truth is I love her, and I would never intentionally hurt her the way you did.”
Fury burned in Edward’s dark eyes, and his hands clenched into fists.
James widened his stance, preparing for another raucous fistfight.
After a moment Edward’s angry expression faltered. Suddenly the austere duke faded and the face of a young, uncertain man stared back at him. “If she left you, I wouldn’t turn her away. Not ever. She is my sister. But… I can tell you honestly that she isn’t here.”
Frustrated James released a weighty breath and glanced over his shoulder. If she hadn’t run home where could she be? Sarah and Nick Collins weren’t in residence at the moment, and Phoebe was far too concerned with people discovering her pregnancy to be lingering in the town.
“She may be at the beachfront,” Edward offered.
“The beach?” A vision of Phoebe the first day they’d met seared his mind. He should have thought of that!
“She goes there to think.”
“Thank you!” James pivoted and set off at a jog in the direction of the ocean.
“Wait!” Edward called after him. “I’m going with you. If Phoebe is leaving you she needs to know I’m here for her. That she can come home if she wants.”
A flood of retorts flowed readily to James’s tongue, but he bit them back. It wasn’t worth rising to his brother-in-laws jibes. After all that had happened that morning Phoebe may very well choose to go back with her brother. James could only pray that he could convince Phoebe of his sincerity, and for peace between the Landon’s and the Witherspoons. A glimmer of hope fueled his determination. Was it possible that the truth of Patrick’s death could mean the beginning of healing between the families?
Side by side he and Edward strode to the beachfront in tense silence. James couldn’t help but relive the awful scene in his bedchamber that morning. He’d intended to bury the cursed necklace with the general after his funeral, but at the last minute he’d decided the general didn’t deserve the wretched thing. He’d hastily stashed the jeweled artifact in his desk drawer and simply forgotten it was there after his whirlwind romance with Phoebe and his subsequent deployment.
James raked a hand through his hair. Perhaps he should have told her the truth long ago. Would she have been so upset if he’d brought the subject up himself?
Probably.
A woman’s shrill scream pierced the air. Chills raced down James’s spine. “That sounds like Phoebe,” he said, breaking into a run up the last little rise before the terrain tapered into the sandy beach lining the ocean. He glanced back, and his eyes locked grimly with Edward’s as the other man broke into a run as well.
James crested the slight hill and his gaze swept the beachfront in search of the woman who’d cried out in such distress. “Oh, my God.” Terror seized him as his gaze fell to Phoebe being viciously attacked a few hundred feet down the beachfront.
She lay on her back hurling fistfuls of sand at her attacker. A lanky man dropped to his knees over her, he clenched a length of dark cloth in one hand.
“Phoebe!” James cried, plunging forward
The madman didn’t seem to hear as he drove a punishing fist into Phoebe’s jaw, and she fell utterly limp against the sand.
* * * *
Crushing pain shot through Phoebe’s skull, rendering her momentarily senseless. Even as her head swam, urgency pulsed through her and she struggled to open her eyes. Sand gritted beneath her lids blurring her vision and distorting Alistair’s menacing vision as he loomed over her. He stretched the cravat taut and lunged forward, viciously pressing the clothe against her throat, and cutting her air off completely. Panic consumed Phoebe as she fought for breath. She flailed against him, but to no avail. He had her pinned beneath his considerable weight. Even her arms were trapped. Her lungs began to burn and blackness roiled around her blurry vision.
James! Amidst the terror, her husband’s visage flashed through her mind along with
at least one hundred regrets… like never meeting their baby. James…
Just as darkness eclipsed her awareness a flash of color and rush of air blew past her. Vaguely she was aware of Alistair’s weight lifting from her, and the crushing pressure releasing from her neck. Instinctively her body sucked a huge breath into her lungs. She coughed spasmodically as blood rushed dizzyingly to her head.
“Phoebe! Phoebe, are you all right?”
She grappled for her bearings. “Edward?” She opened her eyes to find her brother dropping to his knees beside her.
“Yes,” he answered, breathing heavily. He slipped both arms around her and lifted her into a sitting position.
“How… why are you here? I…” Slowly her head cleared and after a few seconds she spied James pummeling Reverend Alistair into the sand a few feet away. Relief flushed through her. Her husband had the madman thoroughly subdued. Tears filled her eyes as the full impact of what had transpired struck her. She curled her arms around her belly, silently thanking God that she and her unborn child hadn’t died that day. “James!”
He froze and whirled back to her. His face was distorted with fear, anger and disbelief.
Reverend Alistair did not move. He appeared to be completely unconscious after James’s assault.
“Phoebe,” James rasped. He stood and stumbled to her, slipping in the sand and sliding to his knees beside her. He grabbed her, crushing her to his chest for a long moment. “Are you all right?” He pulled back and pressed a hand to her stomach. “The baby?”
“Fine,” she assured, throwing her arms around his shoulders. He gathered her close once more, and she melted into the warm security of his arms, realizing fully that she never wanted to be anywhere else. “I love you, James,” she confessed, feeling no need to hold back the truth of her feelings from herself or him. He’d more than proved himself as a husband and a good man in her eyes.
He held her tighter. “And I love you.”
She tried to hold back the flood of threatening tears, but harsh sobs wracked her. “How did you know to come? Why are you here?”
“I waited too long to apologize to you once,” he murmured into her hair. “I wasn’t about to do it again. After you left the house I thought you’d go to the Corsair Estate, but you weren’t there. Edward told me you might be by the beach.”
Phoebe pulled back, locking watery eyes with her husband before glancing to her brother. “You came here together?”
Edward nodded. “I wanted to make sure you were all right.” He glanced away, expression sheepish. “I wanted you to know you could come home if need be.” He cleared his throat gruffly. “Of course we never expected this. What the hell happened?”
Phoebe shivered. “Reverend Alistair is mad. He must be the one murdering the women. He told me God tasked him with ridding the earth of sinners and adulterers. He saw me walking through the village and followed me when he saw I was with child.”
“Jesus,” Edward muttered, scrubbing a palm over his jaw. “I’ve always known he was eccentric, but I never imagined it was to this extent.” He stood, expression grave, and strode to the motionless Alistair. “Did you kill him?” he called back to James.
“Not yet.”
“Pity.” Edward bent and lifted Alistair’s cravat then rolled the man to the side and bound his hands behind his back. “We’ll have to summon the magistrate and explain what’s happened. Are you ready to come home, Phoebe?”
Still wrapped securely in James’s arms, she looked up at her husband and smiled. “I am home.”
* * * *
Over the course of the afternoon Phoebe was pleasantly surprised with how well James and her brother pulled together. As a united front the men addressed the magistrate, and made it abundantly clear that Phoebe’s name was to be left out of any public reports. Having a duke for a brother did have its merits as the magistrate more than assured discretion where Phoebe was concerned.
By early evening Phoebe was completely exhausted, and she tried to focus on the positive fact that a murderer had been caught and that the families of the previously slain women would get some answers. While James and Edward escorted the Magistrate out, she collapsed on a sofa in the parlor of the Corsair Estate. It felt good to be back, but as she gazed around at the familiar surroundings she realized that she was ready to move on with life and create a new home with James at her side. She planned to talk with him soon about the prospect of starting a horse farm as she’d mentioned the other day.
“Can I offer you a drink?” Edward asked as he and James re-entered the parlor.
“No, thank you,” James replied. “I don’t drink.”
Edward raised a skeptical brow.
“Marriage has had a positive effect on my lifestyle.” He grinned at Phoebe and joined her on the sofa.
“Marriage in general? Or is the credit due to my sister?”
James slid an arm around Phoebe. “The credit is most definitely due to Phoebe.”
Edward nodded politely enough, but Phoebe sensed the undercurrent of contempt born from years of hate and misconception.
“Are you ready to go home?” James asked softly.
“Not just yet. I want the hatchet between our families to be buried once and for all.” She made solid eye contact with her brother. “It’s time to let this feud go.”
Edward’s dark eyes hardened. “I’ve tried to be civil today, Phoebe, but your hus—”
“Did not kill Patrick,” she interrupted impatiently. “Tobias Witherspoon shot Patrick. Not James.”
Shock registered on Edward’s face, striking him completely silent as he glanced from Phoebe to James.
“It’s true,” James affirmed.
“You need to tell him the truth,” Phoebe encouraged softly. “Tell him what you told me this morning.”
James nodded and slowly relayed everything that had happened from the encounter with Tobias and Patrick fifteen years prior, to Phoebe finding the Heart of the Nile, and finally their subsequent argument.
When the tale was complete Edward simply dropped into a chair, expression somewhat mystified. “Patrick always was a hothead,” he murmured. “After fifteen years of wondering… now I learn that he fired the first shot.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t bring the truth forward sooner,” James continued. “After Tobias died I considered it, but so many years had gone by and it didn’t seem right to hurt my mother or his wife in such a way. I thought it better not to dredge up the past.”
For a long moment Edward remained silent. “I understand your reasoning,” he said. “I’m not certain I agree with it, but I understand.” Edward washed a palm over his jaw, glancing up to James with an expression of wonder. “You’ve spent the last fifteen years letting everyone believe you were guilty of murder. Even your own parents.”
James shrugged. “It was for my brother. I played my part in what went on that night, and I feared no one would believe the truth. I didn’t want any more fighting or anyone else to die because of an antique necklace and a stupid prank.”
“Probably wise,” Edward agreed. Much of the anger had drained from his eyes, and at the moment he just looked tired and sad.
Phoebe reached out to her brother. “Do you believe him, Edward? Truly?”
He met her gaze. “I do,” he replied. “And I understand being prepared to do anything to help a brother… or sister.” He winked at her.
Phoebe smiled at Edward, warmed by the sentiment. She’d do anything for him, too.
“What do you plan to do with The Heart of the Nile?” Edward asked, shifting his gaze back to James.
James raked a hand through his hair. “I don’t know. I’ve kept it hidden away for years so that no one could fight over the damned thing.”
Thoughtful, Phoebe tapped a finger against her chin. “I know exactly what to do with it.”
* * * *
Reeling from the events of the day James stood with Phoebe and Edward on the bluff beside the lighthouse overlooking th
e ocean. The autumn night was beautiful and the full moon cast a silvery hue over the ocean. He slipped a hand into his pocket and withdrew The Heart of the Nile. For a long moment he simply stared down at the piece. The jewel mounted in the center winked in the starlight. It was deceptively beautiful, but James knew better. It had bred nothing but hate for decades within his family, and for centuries even before his ancestor had stumbled across it.
James held the necklace out to Edward. “Would you like to do the honors?”
Edward held up both hands and stepped back. “I don’t want to touch the cursed thing.”
“Very well.” He looked down to Phoebe and lifted a brow, silently asking if she wanted to throw the amulet away.
She shook her head and stepped back with her brother. “Finish it, James. Send it where no one will ever see it again.”
Needing no other encouragement James closed his palm around the amulet, cocked his arm, took a running sidestep, and hurled the wretched thing out over the cliff edge. The jewel sailed out over the water glistening in the moonlight until it disappeared beneath the black surface of the water amid the craggy ocean rocks.
A sense of peace settled over James as he stared at the point where the amulet had disappeared. “I should have done that a long time ago.”
Phoebe came to him and slid her arm around his waist. “No. It’s better we did this together. All of us.”
James wrapped an arm around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head. His gaze shifted to Edward’s brooding figure at the edge of the bluff. “Now that the hatchet is buried perhaps we can be friends,” James offered, hoping for Phoebe’s sake that he and her brother could move past their differences. Buried hatchet or otherwise, James knew he wasn’t the man any brother would have chosen for his sister.
Edward glanced back to him and actually smiled. He strode forward and extended a hand. “I don’t know about friends,” he said, giving James’s hand a firm shake. “You’re married to my sister so I believe that makes us brothers.”
“Brothers,” James affirmed and he could see in the other man’s eyes that he meant it.
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