Читать книгу The Complete Regency Surrender Collection - Энни Берроуз, Louise Allen - Страница 27

Chapter Seventeen

Will needed only a moment to decide the route and speed for his return trip to the manor. Keeping a sedate pace on the road beside the carriage would give him time to think. He did not need to do that. He had spent too much time in the last weeks trying to understand the circumstances of his new life. But when one was basing one’s cogitation on a horribly flawed series of supposed facts, one had nothing but nonsense at the end of it.

What he needed now was action, not thought. He set off cross country at a full gallop, through pastures and fields, scattering sheep and taking fences as a series of easy jumps. He had nothing to fear, after all. Jupiter was not dead. He had not fallen from a horse. And the injury he’d suffered was no accident.

He would arrive home much sooner than expected and surprise Justine de Bryun. The thought made him smile, but it was with none of the foolish, misplaced joy he’d been feeling lately. This was the kind of cold, grim satisfaction that thief takers must feel when they had their man dead to rights and heading towards the gallows.

He would arrive home and he would shake the truth out of her. He would ignore the huge, sad eyes and wistful smile, toss the lace into the fire and follow it with the ridiculous, prim cap she was likely wearing. A whore did not belong in modest gowns, nor did she bother to cover her head like a housewife. That she would sit with ladies under a scroll of virginal lace was an affront to him and his entire family.

She was a liar, nothing more than that. Below stairs, above stairs, and all the places in between. An image arose in his mind of the sweet, seemingly innocent face that had looked up at him as he’d touched her in their shared bed. Then he imagined that same face, smiling in a much more knowing way at Montague as they plotted against him. The beautiful body that had twined with his had writhed under another man, as she moaned with pleasure.

She was a liar and he had been a fool. Now it was not just her and Montague, but her sister he had to contend with. Lord knew if the girl was in any way involved in this. But was it really his problem, if she was not? He supposed she might be as big a victim as he was. All the same, it did not entitle her to much more than a ticket back to the school she supposedly attended.

The house was in sight now and he bore down on it, gaining speed, rather than slowing. After so long abandoned in a stall, Jupiter relished the speed, just as he did. But now he was eager to return to his own pasture and to be curried and cosseted by familiar hands. He stopped, still dancing with excitement, at the front door.

Will dismounted, handing the reins to a footman who could only manage an awed, ‘My, lord’, at the sight of the familiar, black stallion. Then Will pushed past him, into the house, to find his wife.

Not his wife, he reminded himself. No more weakness, no more foolishness. She was a madman’s plaything, nothing more than that. Soon she would be gone. She and her lover would be in the hands of the law and life would return to normal.

When he opened the door of the morning room, the scene before him left his mind as blank as it had been when he’d first awoken. Justine was sprawled upon the couch, eyes shut tight from fear or pain, or both. Her face was dead pale, except for a red mark on one cheek, where a man’s hand had slapped life into her complexion. Montague stood over her, radiating menace.

For a moment, Will could not think of anything, other than how wrong it was that such a thing should happen. Men did not hit women and they certainly did not do it while under his roof. That such a beautiful creature as his wife should have to fear anything, ever, was all the more wrong. Had he not promised her, over and over, that she would be safe with him?

He was halfway across the room, his hand already raised to strike before he even remembered how satisfying it would be to hit this particular man, who had stolen six months of his life and ruined the one good thing that had come of it: his sweet and innocent Justine.

‘No!’ The word seemed to come, not from his mouth, but the very depths of his soul. With one hand, he gripped Montague by the shoulder and spun him. With the other, he struck. It was a full-armed cuff to the side of the head that sent Montague crashing to the floor.

‘Will.’ Justine’s eyes were open now and he watched their expression change quickly from shock to relief, then change again to sorrow. Then she whispered, ‘He has a gun. It is in his coat pocket.’

In response, he gave her a curt nod and focused on the man at his feet.

‘If you stand, I will knock you down again. If you move for a weapon, I will break your hand with my boot. And do not think that I will turn my back on you, even for an instant. There will be no more chances to strike me from behind.’

Montague seemed barely bothered by this revelation. ‘You finally remember, do you?’ His lack of fear was unnerving.

‘I remember it all, down to the last detail. You were a fool to bring my horse back to Wales, you know. It was bound to be discovered.’

Montague shrugged at this. ‘Of all the things that would be my undoing, I did not think that would be the one. Do you mean to call the magistrate? It is your brother, is it not? He will arrest me and my mistress, and you will be free of us. I am sure it will be a terrible scandal and very embarrassing to all concerned. People will wonder that Bellston would be so easily fooled as to take a whore into the bosom of the family.’

Though Montague was mocking him, calling down the law would be the sensible thing to do. But now that justice was at hand, it felt strangely unsatisfying. There was something missing. Will resisted the urge to look back at the woman on the couch. If she was carted away to be punished for her crimes, he might never understand why she had gone to such lengths to trick him.

Instead, he stared down at Montague. ‘You will hang, of course. Stealing my horse would be reason enough. But your list of crimes is longer than that. Attempted murder, fraud...’

‘It is Justine who is guilty of fraud,’ Montague supplied, as though trying to be helpful. ‘It was her idea to come here, to masquerade as your wife, and to try to steal the diamonds you claimed to have found. If I hang, then she must as well.’

‘He killed my father.’ Justine spoke at last, her voice barely a whisper. ‘Let justice be done.’ If he turned to her, he would likely see that same, resigned, annoyingly obedient woman who had sat at his bedside and later come to his bed. Now she meant to go uncomplaining to the gallows.

Surely an innocent woman would have spirit enough to defend herself. Did she not understand that it would take only a word of entreaty and he would face down the devil himself to protect her?

But Montague was another matter entirely. Will glared down at him in disgust. ‘I would much prefer that we settle this like gentlemen, if that is even possible. I know you prefer to strike men from behind and threaten women. If you can find someone foolish enough to stand with you, I will meet you at dawn.’

Montague laughed at this, as though the very idea of a duel was beyond him. ‘And if not?’

‘Then you will go to the gallows, just as you wish. Do not think to run. You will not cross the borders of my brother’s land unnoticed.’

‘That is not much of a choice,’ Montague responded.

‘It is the only one I am prepared to offer. With one, you stand a small chance of success and I can have my vengeance. If not, I shall turn you both over to the law and not think of it again. Although I would most like to be responsible for your death, I can live without the chance.’

‘Then of course we shall duel,’ Montague replied. ‘And since Justine tells me you are weakened since the accident, I will choose swords. They are a weapon of a man with finesse. Very hard to handle when one’s hand still shakes.’

‘They are also more difficult to handle than a fireplace poker,’ Will said, pleased to see Montague flinch as the shot hit home.

By the time he answered, he had regained his aplomb. ‘Very well, then. Swords at dawn. Send word of the location to the inn. Now, if you will excuse us?’

Will gave a slight tip of the head.

Montague stood and gestured to Justine. ‘There is no need of a spy in your house, now that you are aware of her. Come, Justine.’

‘The girl stays.’ Will did not want to look at her, afraid of what he might see. Even now, she might be stirring on the couch, ready to return to her master.

Montague dropped his hand and shrugged. ‘If you wish to keep her, she is yours. Until tomorrow, of course. Then I shall kill you and she will return to me. She will have no choice. Send word to the inn where you wish to meet and I shall see you at sunrise.’ And then he was gone.

* * *

With the departure of Montague, a terrible stillness fell over the room. As if there was anything Justine could say that would explain or justify what had happened. Instead, she said the first words that came to her mind. ‘How long have you known?’

‘Just today,’ Will said, still looking at the closed door. ‘The coachmen found Jupiter yesterday, while bringing your sister to you.’

‘And your memory came back?’

‘All of it,’ he said, turning to her with a grim smile. ‘Including the memory of you doing nothing to stop him, as he struck me down.’

That must be how it appeared to him. He would never believe her true feelings for him, if he remembered her from that day in Bath. Her future was destroyed. But perhaps there was a way that some good would come from this whole sordid mess. ‘Margot had no part in any of it. She did not even know of my...intimate association with Mr Montague.’

‘Is that all you have to say to me?’ he said, with an ironic lift of his eyebrow. He took a seat on the opposite side of the room from her, as though he would keep as much distance from her as was possible. When he looked at her it was with the same, cynical appraisal he had used on the day they had met, in the shop in Bath, so many months ago.

She stared back at him, although not nearly as boldly. ‘I have many things to say,’ she admitted. ‘But I can think of none that is more important than the welfare of my sister. What good would an apology do? There is no way to say I am sorry for the deception I have perpetrated. Mr Montague’s assault on your person was so sudden that I did not know how to prevent it. To stop him from striking the second blow to finish you, I suggested that it would be better to bring you home so that I might steal the diamonds you claimed to have found.’

‘And if you had found them?’ he asked. ‘Would you have gone back to him?’

‘I meant to steal from him as well,’ she said. ‘To take them and escape with Margot, to a place where he could not find us.’

‘And the rest of it?’ he said. ‘Our elopement? My tragic accident?’ He was sneering now, as though the very idea of a past with her disgusted him.

‘I could think of no other way to explain myself.’

‘And so you lied.’

‘I lied,’ she admitted.

‘I suppose the things that happened when we were alone together were lies as well.’

‘Would you believe me if I said they weren’t?’

‘Probably not,’ he admitted.

Had she been hoping for a different answer? If so, her time here had made her foolish and overly optimistic. Perhaps it had been her imagination that his voice had softened, just for a moment, as though he, too, wished there could be a different end to this.

‘Then all I can say to you is that I am sorry,’ she said, at last. ‘For hurting you and for tricking myself into believing my own lies. I should have admitted all, the day you awakened. I knew, from that moment, that this day would come. The longer I waited, the easier it became to pretend that there was a chance for happiness here. And now you hate me. I do not blame you.’

He said nothing in response and, in her mind, she cursed herself for wishing that he would offer some sop, to tell her she was wrong about his feelings. ‘Now that we are at an end, I have but two requests.’

‘You are not in a position to bargain with me over anything,’ he said, emotionless.

‘I know that. I deserve nothing, just as I have told you from the first moment we met. But I know you to be a good man, a kind man, a man of honour. As I said before, my sister had nothing to do with any of this. What I have done, from the first, I did for her.’ She bowed her head. ‘Do what you will with me, but do not punish Margot. At the very least, do not let her fall to the same unfortunate depths I have.’

He stared at her, without answering. Then he said, ‘Your second request?’

‘Do not duel with Montague.’

Will gave an incredulous laugh. ‘You wish me to spare his life?’

‘I wish you to protect your own.’

He made another disgusted noise. ‘You have no faith in my abilities to defend myself.’

‘On the contrary, I have infinite faith in Mr Montague’s ability to turn a situation to his advantage. He will find a way to cheat. And then he will kill you.’ She rose from the chair and sank to her knees before him. ‘I would not see that happen for all the world. Have him arrested and be done with this.’

‘They would take you as well,’ he said. ‘Do not think that I can protect you from this, for I do not know if that is possible.’

‘Then let them take me,’ she said, taking his hand in hers. When she squeezed it, she felt an answering grip. But there was no sign in his face that it was anything other than a reflex. ‘Since I’ve been with you, I’ve had a lifetime of happiness. But that is over now. I must be punished for what I have done to you and your family. Let me go.’

It seemed he might not want to, for the grip on her hand was even stronger than it had been. Still, when he spoke, there was no sign of it in his voice. ‘No matter what you might wish, I cannot go back on my word to Montague. If I could offer a challenge, and then take him unawares tonight, I would be no better than he is.’

‘If you mean to throw your life away, then what was the point of saving you?’ she said, pulling her hand away to wipe away a tear. ‘If I had not stopped him, he’d have killed you in Bath and I would truly have been a murderer. Now you will be dead and I will have to go on, knowing I am to blame.’

‘I am sorry to have inconvenienced you,’ he said. He stood up and stepped around her. ‘I am going to my room. I need to think. I will write to my brother and try to explain any of this.’ He gave a vague gesture, as though it might be possible to draw a sensible version of events out of the air in front of him. Then he added, ‘And I suppose I must think of something to do with your sister. At the very least, I can arrange to send her back to where she came from.’

It was such a small thing, yet it was more than she could have hoped for. ‘Thank you,’ she said, softly. ‘In return, what do you wish me to do?’

‘I have no idea. Nor do I care.’ He gave a half-bow, as though he had rendered her a service of some kind. ‘I am locking the door between our rooms, if that is what you are hinting at. Knowing what I do, I will not sleep easy if it is open. For the rest?’ He shrugged. ‘You are your own woman, Miss de Bryun. You are free of Montague and I no longer want you. What you do now is totally up to you.’