Dark Angel (51 page)

"We were going on a picnic," Caroline said coldly.

"You weren't trying to run away?" Talbot asked.

Caroline fixed him with a level gaze. "Why should we want to run away?"

"Ah." The same chilling amusement lit Talbot's eyes. "An interesting question. But hardly the sort of thing to be discussed in the front drive." He stepped aside and gestured toward the open door. "Do come in, ladies. You must be tired after your journey."

The solid English house before them seemed infinitely more terrifying than French headquarters in Salamanca. But there was nothing to be gained from refusing to enter and it might be easier to reason with Talbot indoors. Caroline did not think he had brought her here with murder in mind. He must know that it would take more than her silence to protect him now. Determined not to let Talbot see how frightened she was, Caroline tightened her grip on Emily's hand. With Elena following close behind, she led Emily up the steep flight of stairs and moved past Talbot into a dark paneled entrance hall filled with marble busts, stale air, and the quiet of neglect.

There was no sign of servants or anyone else to whom they might appeal for help. But the fact that Talbot had not meant to kidnap all of them gave them an edge. Perhaps, Caroline thought, stroking Emily's hair, he could even be persuaded to let Emily and Elena go.

Talbot told the man in the dusty coat to take the horses to the stable, then followed the women into the house, shutting the door behind him.

"You bloody bastard." Elena had been silent too long. Her indignation boiled over. "You think you can kidnap us like we are still in Spain?
Madre de Dios,
I am told this is a civilized country."

Talbot regarded Elena, taking in her appearance with obvious appreciation. "I don't believe I know your name, Miss—?"

"Mrs. Muros," Caroline said. "An innocent bystander who has the misfortune to be mixed up in this business. Keep me if you must, Talbot, but let Mrs. Muros and Emily go. They can't do anything to you."

"On the contrary. At the moment, anyone who talks can do a great deal to me." Talbot turned abruptly, walked to the double doors at the end of the hall, and flung them open. "Colborne," he shouted.

A second or two later, Bob Colborne strode into the hall. Emily gave a soft cry and shrank closer to Caroline. "It's all right," Caroline murmured, realizing Emily had remembered Colborne from Freneda.

"As you can see, we have a slight complication," Talbot said, gesturing toward the women. "However, I think we can put it to good account. Take the child—"

"No!" Caroline cried, tightening her arm around Emily. White-hot terror lanced through her.

"I advise you to cooperate, Caroline. For your own sake and the child's." Talbot's voice was quiet, but as he spoke he reached inside his coat and pulled out a small silver-mounted pistol.

Caroline drew in her breath. Emily, who had learned early what guns meant, stiffened against her. "Then let me go with Emily," Caroline said, keeping her voice steady.

"I'm afraid that would defeat my purpose," Talbot said. "Emily is to be a hostage for your good behavior."

Caroline's blood went cold with fear and anger at her own helplessness. She had told Emily they would stay together, but had failed even at that. Yet Talbot's words at least confirmed that he wasn't planning to kill her. What did he want from her, Caroline wondered. And how, with Emily's safety held over her, could she help but accede to his demands?

Emily was trembling. Colborne took a step forward, but as he did so Elena spoke. "Let me go with the child. I'll be able to keep her quiet."

Talbot looked from Caroline to Elena, then slowly nodded. "Very well. You're better off out of the way anyway." He glanced at his batman. "Don't let her work her wiles on you, Colborne."

Elena sent Talbot a disdainful look and moved toward Emily.

Caroline crouched down beside her daughter. Emily looked at her with frightened yet trusting eyes. A lump rose in Caroline's throat. What could she promise Emily that would not be a lie? "Go with Elena,
querida,"
Caroline said, kissing Emily's cheek. "I'll see you soon."

Emily's arms closed around Caroline's neck in a fierce hug, but she took Elena's hand without protest. Caroline got to her feet, her throat tight with unshed tears and unspoken rage. In Salamanca she had faced the horror of finding Emily missing. This was worse. She had to watch Emily being taken away from her.

Colborne reached into his pocket and pulled out a gun, less elegant than Talbot's but equally lethal. "No tricks," he was motioning toward the door.

Elena picked Emily up and settled her on her hip. Emily wrapped her arms around Elena's neck, looking a little less panicked. Colborne held the door open, a mockery of courtesy. Caroline watched them go, her stomach knotted with the effort not to cry or scream or run after them.

"Don't worry," Talbot said, when the door had shut behind them. "I've no wish to hurt you or the child."

Caroline thought she had never known what it was to hate until now. "You didn't mind hurting us in Salamanca."

Talbot blanched. It was the first sign of weakness he had shown and Caroline felt a small moment of triumph. "It's more difficult face to face, isn't it?" she said.

Without answering, Talbot turned to the open double doors. "After you."

Head held high, Caroline walked through the doorway into a large room with paneled walls painted a dark green and French windows opening onto a stone terrace. Talbot followed her and pulled the doors shut. "Emily may not be Jared's daughter, but he accepted her," Caroline said, turning to face him. "Doesn't that mean anything to you?"

"You expect me to feel loyalty to Jared?" Talbot asked. "Why? You obviously felt none yourself."

Caroline flinched.

Talbot smiled. "To think I was surprised when Jared told me Emily wasn't his," he said, his gaze moving over her body. "If I'd known you were so free with your favors, I might have sought them myself."

Caroline forced herself not to shrink away from him. "What do you want of me?" she said, her voice stripped of emotion.

"Simply your presence under my roof for a few hours." Talbot moved to a giltwood side table where a set of decanters was laid out. "May I offer you something? We have a long wait ahead of us."

Caroline shook her head. Her throat felt dry and hoarse, but she would not take anything from him.

"Suit yourself." Talbot poured whisky into an already half-full glass.

Caroline watched him, understanding washing over her. She was merely a pawn in this deadly game. Adam was the king Talbot was determined to take. "It's Adam you want, isn't it?" she said. "I'm bait for the trap."

Talbot raised his glass to her in a mocking salute. "You always were an intelligent woman, Caroline. I congratulate you." He flung himself down on a nearby sofa, heedless of the fact that she was still standing.

Caroline dropped into a chair as far away from him as the room permitted and looked about her. She remembered the room from Dolly's breakfast all those years ago, but then it had been bright with flowers and laughter and the clink of champagne glasses. Now it looked as cold as she felt and as forbidding as the threat in Talbot's eyes. The andirons might serve as a weapon, but only if she could get Talbot's gun away from him. There were no side doors to offer a chance of escape. Even if she could escape, she would not know where to go. Colborne was probably holding Emily and Elena on the estate, but Caroline was not familiar enough with Shepton's grounds to know where to begin to look.

The silence was broken at last by footsteps and the creak of the doors. Caroline looked around, wondering if Colborne had come back, praying he would return Emily to her, but it was the dusty-coated man.

"You had something else for me to do, sir?" he asked, glancing nervously at Caroline.

"Yes." Talbot crossed to a writing desk that stood against the wall and picked up a sealed paper. "Take one of the horses from the stable and ride to London as fast as you can. Deliver this to Durward in Red Lion Square. Make sure he gets it this afternoon."

The man nodded, took the paper, and hurried from the room as if eager to be away from a difficult situation. Talbot returned to the sofa and stretched out, the whisky glass cradled in both hands.

"This won't work, Talbot," Caroline said, deciding words were the only weapon she had. "Adam will know it's a trap."

"Perhaps." Talbot sipped the whisky. "But he'll come anyway."

And when he did, Talbot would kill him. Caroline had no doubt of that. She had not thought it was possible to be any more frightened, but she was now. "This isn't Spain," she said, keeping her voice steady. "There'll be questions asked if anything happens to Adam. Besides he's written the whole thing down. It's in the keeping of his uncle, a respected solicitor."

A trace of unease crossed Talbot's face. "The whole?" he said. "Not all of it, surely. There wouldn't have been time."

"I wouldn't count on it," Caroline said, wondering how far she could carry her bluff.

Talbot regarded her for a moment. "A good try, Caroline. But I'll take my chances. Even if he has written it down, there's no proof is there? Not yet. That's why I knew I had to act quickly."

The lack of emotion in his voice was as chilling as anything that had gone before. Caroline felt her forehead break out in sweat. "I don't know the whole story," she said. "But whatever you did, it must have been very bad for you to take an innocent man's life. Would you have killed Jared too if the French hadn't done it for you?"

Talbot swung his head round to look at her. "Be careful, Caroline," he said with sudden violence. "I don't want to hurt you. But if you imagine I'm going to let a lying slut stop me, you're very much mistaken."

Caroline closed her arms over her chest, warding off terror. "I thought you found killing more difficult face to face."

"Women and children are one thing. Durward's another." Talbot's eyes were hard and implacable. "I'm a soldier. I learned to kill a long time ago. It's Durward or it's me." He settled back into the sofa. "You could almost call it self-defense."

Adam knew he could not afford to waste time. Shortly after he had seen Caroline, Elena, and Emily drive off in Sherry's carriage, he left the house himself in Charles's curricle. He was pleased to find the man in the fawn-colored coat on his trail once again, for it meant he had not followed Caroline and the others. Adam detoured through courts and alleys, satisfied himself that he had shaken off pursuit, and headed out of London to Hammersmith. He had no more proof, but he had information. With any luck he could use that information to get Captain Leighton to talk.

The young manservant answered the door again, but this time his elaborate courtesy had given way to abrupt coldness. "Captain Leighton is not at home," he said, before Adam had a chance to give his name.

Adam suspected that after his last visit Leighton had given orders that the man Durward was not to be admitted into the house again. He was prepared for such an eventuality. "Then I'll wait," he said, pushing his way past the manservant into the entrance hall.

The manservant drew in his breath, as if uncertain whether to order Adam from the house or take his fists to him. "You can throw me out," Adam told him, "but I'll only wait on the doorstep. I have some new information for Captain Leighton which he ought to hear. For his own good." He moved to the stiff-backed wooden bench that stood beside the hall table. "Don't worry," he added, seating himself, "I won't steal the silver."

The manservant hesitated, closed the front door, hesitated again, then made his way to one of the doors farther down the fall. Adam settled back on the bench and contemplated the still life that hung on the opposite wall. He did not have long to wait. A few minutes later the manservant crossed the hall and vanished through a baize-covered door. A few moments after that, another door crashed open and Leighton himself strode down the hall.

"What the devil do you mean by badgering me in my own house, Durward?" he demanded. "I thought I made it clear I had nothing more to say to you."

Adam got to his feet. "That's all right, I'll do the talking. I have a great deal to say to you and you'd be wise to listen. If you'd prefer, I can tell the story to your wife instead. I imagine there's a great deal she doesn't know about the whole episode."

Leighton drew in his breath. "You wouldn't dare."

"No? You can chance it, of course. But I warn you my patience has reached its limits."

Leighton stared at him for a moment. "Damn you," he said. Then he turned abruptly and walked back down the hall, leaving Adam to follow him.

Leighton led Adam into the room where they had talked before. "Well?" he said when they were both seated.

Adam caught the note of fear beneath the angry, belligerent voice. He felt a moment of sympathy for Leighton, whose livelihood was about to be endangered. "I now know conclusively that Talbot Rawley was involved in the fraud," Adam said, leaning back in his chair. It was all in the telling. If he acted as if he was in command of the situation, he might make Leighton believe he had unshakable proof of what he was about to say. "I know that he arranged for you to be paid for your silence. I suspect he is the one who provides you with your present income. None of this will be news to you, of course. What I believe you do not know is that in approving those weapons you were not covering up for incompetence but assisting in treason. Talbot Rawley was working for the French."