Everything I Ever Wanted (48 page)

The countess made no attempt to swipe at her damp eyes, though she did press her lips together to stop their trembling.

Margrave sighed. "That is a poor effort." He watched his mother's tears begin to flow with renewed vigor. "Sit down! This is intolerable."

As if deflated, the dowager countess sank slowly into a nearby chair. "I'm sorry," she said again. Her words were for India, not her son. "Can you forgive me?"

"Do not speak of it," India said wearily. She lightly brushed South's lean cheek with her knuckles and watched the even rise and fall of his chest. She removed his spectacles. "It is understandable that you would act to protect your son. Indeed, I held out too much hope you could do anything else." Margrave's deep chuckle strained her taut nerves. "Something amuses you, my lord?"

Margrave ignored the sweetness in India's tone that lent it bite. He spoke only to her question. "Certainly I am amused. You have misunderstood Mother. Her apology is not for what she has done in these last few minutes but for what she has done these last twenty-three years." His dark eyes swiveled to his mother. "Is that not correct? It is an apology for a lifetime of wrongs."

Two small creases appeared between India's brows. She searched Lady Margrave's drawn features. The countess avoided her eyes, glancing down at the hands folded in her lap instead. "My lady? What does he mean?"

It was as if Lady Margrave had not heard. She fidgeted with the folds of her gown, smoothing them across her knees, picking at an imaginary loose thread.

Watching her, Margrave shook his head, one corner of his mouth edging upward. "I do not believe she will speak of it, India. I suppose you will have to hear it from me."

Though she was curious, India doubted she would believe anything Margrave had to tell her. She realized belatedly that something of her skepticism must have shown on her face, because the earl's slim smile became wry.

"It does present a dilemma, does it not?" he mused aloud. His eyes fell to South. "I suspect you can count on no help from that quarter. Pity. I think he knows rather more than I should have thought anyone could."

"He knows you are responsible for Mr. Kendall's murder.-"

"Really?"

India dismissed out of hand the amusement she heard in the earl's voice. She knew she had piqued his interest and his concern. She looked down at South's perfectly still features. It had been several minutes since he had last faintly stirred. "Mr. Rutherford's also," she said. "The attempt on Prinny's life as well." Beside her she heard the dowager countess's sharp intake of breath. "You have been found out, my lord. I am no longer the only one who knows what a monster you are."

He laughed outright. "A monster? I am hardly that. The theatre has given you a penchant for melodrama, my dear India."

Lady Margrave pressed one hand to her mouth as if to stifle a second sob. Her face was without color, and her nostrils flared widely as she drew in a steadying breath. She spoke haltingly through her fingers. "Is this true?"

Uncertain to whom she was speaking, or what she was wanting to confirm as truth, neither India nor Margrave answered.

The countess's hand fell away from her face. Her voice rose shrilly. "Is this true?!"

India noticed that Margrave actually flinched. His cheeks flushed with high color while his narrow smile remained eerily in place. India reached out to Lady Margrave, laying one hand over hers. "My lady, have a care. You will make yourself ill."

"I am ill." Her eyes implored her son. "Does she speak the truth, Allen? Are you responsible for the attempt on the Prince Regent's life?"

"Mother," he said placatingly, "have you forgotten a man was hanged for the assassination attempt? I have never heard that my name was in any way connected to that sorry bit of business."

Lady Margrave was not pacified."You have not answered my question. Were you responsible for it?"

Both of Margrave's brows rose at her tone, but he nevertheless answered, "I was not."

"Liar," India said. "I do not know the particulars of how it was accomplished, but I know you lie. You thought Prinny wanted to make me his mistress. You have always thought others wanted me. Kendall. Rutherford. You would have liked to kill South at the cottage at Ambermede, but your need to get me away from him was stronger. And Westphal was there. I think you were not prepared to challenge them both."

The countess continued to stare at her son."She is telling the truth, isn't she? You have done these things."

Margrave was not listening to his mother. "Prinny did want you for his mistress. Do not deny it, India. I saw how he looked at you. I saw how they all looked at you. It never seemed to matter that you were without station or consequence. You drew them to you. Always." He said nothing for a moment. His eyes drifted away from India as he retrieved a memory. "Olmstead," he said quietly. "He wanted you. Mother arranged for your position there knowing all the while that your position would be a reclining one."

Agitated, Lady Margrave came to her feet. "That's a lie. I sent her away for her own protection."

Margrave's mouth twisted. "You sent her away for your protection."

A strangled sound came from the back of the countess's throat.

"You do not deny it, Mother."

"You are without conscience."

"The pot calling the kettle, and all that." He waved one hand, dismissing her, and looked down on India. "Your viscount has been out rather long, India. Perhaps some smelling salts are in order."

India leaned over South protectively."You will not touch him."

"As you wish. It is a large knot at the back of his head, I collect."

It was, but India did not confirm that was the case. "Neither South nor I require your assistance, my lord."

"You may well speak for yourself. I am not certain Southerton would agree." Margrave bent and picked up the board that his mother had dropped. He turned it over in his hands, idly examining it, then gave it a decisive swing over India's head. He laughed as she instinctively ducked to avoid the blow. The board had not come within six inches of her scalp. "Did that raise a few hairs at the back of your neck, India?"

India lifted her face to him and spoke quietly but distinctly. "You disgust me."

"Oh? More than Olmstead? More than Prinny? You would have me believe they disgusted you as well."

"Stop it," Lady Margrave said. She carefully lowered herself to her knees beside India and searched South's pale face. "What can I do? There must be something. A damp cloth, perhaps, for his forehead."

"Hold him," India told her. "I will get it." There was the small stain of blood on her gown where South's head had lain. She rose and turned toward the commode. Margrave stopped her, placing one hand at the crook of her elbow. "You will allow me to attend to him, my lord."

"Why? I intend to kill him, you know."

India did not flinch from what she saw in his eyes. "And I will see to his comfort until then."

Margrave smiled. "As you wish, India. As always, I can deny you nothing." He let her go, watching her as she poured cool water into the basin and chose a cloth to dampen. She wrung it out, then carried it back to South and handed it to the countess. His mother folded it carefully and laid it across the viscount's brow. Margrave tried to remember if she had ever been so gentle with him. Yes, he thought, she had, but it seemed so very long ago that he could not bring the place or time to mind. Still, he could recall her light touch on his brow, the sweet sound of her lullaby in his ears. She must have loved him once.

The earl set the board down, leaning it against the fireplace, out of reach of his mother. "Does it disturb you, India, that Southerton has accused me of Kendall's murder?"

"No longer." She knelt again. It was not South's hand she sought, but Lady Margrave's. The countess's skin was cool, and her fingers trembled slightly in India's light grasp. "I have had time to accustom myself to the truth of it. At first I did not want to believe it."

"You championed me?"

"After a fashion."

"You surprise me."

India shrugged. "I did not do it for you. It seemed that if it were true I must bear some of the responsibility. I was not prepared to do that."

"And now?"

"Now I understand that while you did all of the things South says you have, it does not make me guilty."

"Is that what Southerton told you? That you are not culpable?" He did not wait for her to respond."He's wrong, India. Everything that has been done has been done for you."

"It has been done for you ."

"No."

India lifted her face. Her eyes glittered with the strength of her icy condemnation. "Yes," she said. "It was been done for no one save you."

Margrave did not hesitate. He brought the flat of his hand hard across India's cheek. The downward sweep of his palm was swift and powerful. India was knocked sideways. Lady Margrave cried out as India was torn from her, and she caught her son's arm to stop him from delivering a second blow. He shook her off easily.

Not so the second pair of hands that grabbed him.

South brought all the pressure he could to bear and used Margrave's efforts to pull away to help himself rise. Jerked into a sitting position by the earl's wiry strength, South was able to get his feet under him, then stand on his own power. Without signaling his intention, he let Margrave go suddenly. Off balance, Margrave shot backward, falling against the fireplace.

India pulled the countess out of the way as the earl picked up the board and swung it fiercely in South's direction. South jumped back and ducked. The board whistled through the air as it swept just over his head. He charged then, running like a bull at Margrave's midsection, throwing him back against the wall. The board was hurled from the earl's hands and came within a hairbreadth of hitting his mother. India pushed the countess into a chair and picked up the makeshift weapon just as South plowed his fist into Margrave's belly.

Margrave doubled over, making retching noises as he simultaneously tried to suck air into his lungs. South stepped lightly away and sent a second punch, a roundhouse this time, straight for Margrave's jaw. The contact crunched bone and tore flesh. Spitting blood, the earl staggered sideways, then collapsed to his knees. He swiped ineffectually at the air in search of South's legs. South danced easily out of his reach and, out of the corner of his eye, saw India's approach.

He grinned when she didn't hesitate. Her timing was as impeccably sharp as it was onstage. She delivered this blow as though it were the exclamation point at the end of her finest line.

India hammered the plank across the back of Margrave's head and sent him crashing forward. He thumped to the floor, then lay still. India raised the board again, poised to strike, but South stayed her hand this time.

"It is enough," he said gently. "There is no need for an encore."

India let the board fall and launched herself once more into South's open arms. He held her closely, stroking her back and placing small, healing kisses on the crown of her head. She sagged against him, eyes closed, when his fingers sifted through her hair. India was content to remain exactly as she was, firmly in the circle of South's embrace, with the steady, reassuring beat of his heart under her palm. He let it be so for several minutes; then he lifted her just enough to set her on the edge of the bed and drew back. He searched her face.

"I'm fine," she said, looking up at him. "Truly."

South nodded, accepting her assessment but making one of his own anyway. That she had lost weight was noticeable in the fine, sculpted lines of her face and the loose fit of her gown. The bones of her wrists were more pronounced, making her seem delicate, yet he had watched her swing that plank with the skill and strength of a batsman, so he knew fragility was more illusion than fact. The vagueness he had glimpsed earlier in her dark eyes had vanished. They were sharply focused on him now and engaged in their own assessment. "I'm fine," he said, a glimmer of a smile playing about his mouth. "Truly."

India felt herself returning that small smile. "Yes," she said. "You are. Very fine indeed."

The thought that he might actually blush made South avert his gaze. The shift brought him around to Lady Margrave, who had remained seated throughout this last altercation with her son. She did not return his regard. Her attention was all for the unconscious earl. It surprised South that she had made no effort to go to him. "He is not dead," he assured her. "You can see that he breathes."

"Yes." The countess's lips merely moved around the word. It was virtually without sound.

South dropped to his haunches beside Margrave and checked the earl's head for injury. The lump at the back of Margrave's skull was little bigger than South's own. "India? Would you give me the cords that hold back the drapes?"

India started to rise, but Lady Margrave put out a hand and waved her back. "I will get them," she said. "It is the very least I can do." She caught South's small start of surprise. "Do you think I mean to play you some trick? I assure you, I do not." She stood, went to the window, and removed the gold braided cords that gathered the drapes on either side of the leaded glass. She gave them to South."Tie them tightly. You would not want him to loose himself easily at any time."