Further Than Passion (33 page)

Marcus was crushed, hating himself for being such an ass, for putting her through hell, and he gazed at Chris, feeling petty and small under the younger man's scrutiny.

"He accompanied us because he was so worried," Selena told her. "We were all so worried. Can you walk?"

"I think so."

There was another rus
tl
e and shifting about, and the warden emerged, then Selena, who was leading Kate. Even though there was scant illumination, Marcus could detect a gash on her cheek, blood from it splashed on her clothes. Her movements were stiff and faltering, the severity of her beating obvious.

On viewing her, Christopher gasped and rushed forward. "Oh, Kate, oh! I'm so sorry. So terribly sorry."

Marcus approached, too, considering himself more impotent than he'd ever been. He was desperate to sweep her into his arms, to profess how much he loved her, how much he'd always loved her. He'd carry her up the stairs and out to his carriage; then he'd whisk her away from this awful place, would keep her safe forevermore.

He had to let her know, had to make her understand
,
and he reached out to her, meaning to speak
,
to confide

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his churning emotions, but the words swelled in his throat, choking him with how much he cared.

"Kate ..." He murmured her name, unable to say anything else, and his hand wavered before her, but she didn't grab for it.

She assessed him as if she wasn't sure who he was, as if she was afraid of him. He could see the hurt and betrayal, the disappointment and sorrow. Any fondness she might have felt for him had been shattered.

He could have had her for his own, but folly had steered him to the wrong choices. How many times in his life had he destroyed what he cherished, what he valued? He hadn't believed her, hadn't trusted her, and his lack of faith had condemned her to this horrifying end.

With a nauseating conviction, he comprehended that he didn't deserve her continuing affection, wasn't worthy of her friendship, or even her courteous regard.

She turned to Christopher and fell toward him. "Get me out of here, Chris."

"Yes, Kate. At once. We're leaving immediately."

"Take me home. Please. Take me to Doncaster."

"I will, Kate. I will straightaway.
"

Her remaining strength gave out, and Chris caught her as she collapsed. He swooped her up and started off, Selena and the warden fast on his heels. Marcus dawdled, following slowly, watching the touching tableau from a distance.

His heart breaking, his spirits dashed, he recognized that he didn't belong with them, wasn't part of them, and shouldn't interject himself into their private family tragedy. When his assistance was neither wanted nor needed, he shouldn't interfere.

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He was someone separate and distinct, and nothing about the ghastly event had changed that fact. Yet as he trudged after them, he felt more alone, and more lonely, than he'd ever been.

_2
1

Her temper flaring, Regina dawdled in Elliot Feather-stone's parlor. Christopher still hadn't arrived, and Melanie had vanished.

Though Regina hadn't meant to spoil her children, they had been. They didn't remember the past, didn't realize how lucky they were, but they were about to be reminded of who was in charge, who gave the orders. Like it or no, they were accountable to Regina.

A flurry erupted in the foyer, with people straining to see what was occurring, and suddenly, Stamford and Christopher burst in together, an exotic brunette trailing after them. The men weren't dressed in their formal wear, but in casual clothes, with both attired as they'd been earlier in the day.

They were an impressive sight, her son and future son-in-law. One dark and the other golden blond, they were ta
l
l, confident, determined, and they instantly dominated the room.

Stamford honed in on her, and as they stomped over, she could discern that they were livid. Stamford

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in particular was incensed, and as he neared, his anger was so blatant that she actually flinched, worrying that he might assault her. In Featherstone's entryway! With all of fashionable London looking on!

Only Christopher's calming hand on his arm prevented Stamford from initiating an attack.

"Madam," Stamford tersely bit out, "I would have a word with you in private."

She wasn't about to have him bossing her. "Melanie and I were just leaving. Whatever it is, it will have to wait till tomorrow."

"Mother
,
" Christopher cut in, "I have your satchel. We've turned the contents over to Mr. Thumberton."

The news was gravely dismaying, but she cautiously shielded any reaction. She'd been so distracted with Kate that she'd forgotten about the portfolio. It was the first time in years that she'd failed to secure it. What was to be done?

It contained mountains of evidence that could convict her, and she sifted through possible excuses, even as she was crafting an offense. She wasn't about to sit idly by and allow the two of them to bully her. If they supposed they could, they were fools.

"The jig is up, Regina," Stamford gloated. "Shall we debate it here, with everyone watching?"

Several guests tittered at the prospect, and she spun and glared at a footman. "Escort me to the library."

She led the way, refusing to have them presume they were in control. Inside, she moved behind the desk, using the imposing piece of furniture to bolster her air of authority as she whipped around to challenge Stamford.

"Have you no manners?" she barked. "I won't have

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you badgering me, nor will you spoil my plans for the rest of the night. Get on with it!"

"How much did you pay them?" he snarled.

"You're babbling in riddles. To what are you referring?"

"How much did you pay them to have Kate disappear?"

They'd found her? And so fast, too!

The discovery presented another set of problems, but she'd work them out. She merely needed a few minutes to assess her alternatives, yet as she stared into his eyes, she'd never observed such banked fury, and she was uneasy.

Perhaps he'd had genuine feelings for the little strumpet, so she had to tread lightly. Heightened sentiment would make him a more vicious adversary.

"I have no idea about what you're talking," she claimed. Christopher stumbled in, the willowy brunette clinging to him, and Regina frowned. "Who are you to come in with us? This is a family discussion. Be gone!"

The girl had the audacity to advance on the desk. "Who am I?" she mimicked. "Who am I? / am Selena Bella, daughter of Caroline Duncan, the former Countess of Doncaster, and sister to Kate Duncan, daughter of the late earl. I will see you hanged for this atrocity. I swear it on my life!"

"You have the gall to show your face among your betters?" Regina chastised. "How dare you!"

"Enough!" Christopher roared, approaching, too, and he positioned himself in front of the whore, shielding her from Regina's wrath. "Mothe
r
—
f
or onc
e
—
y
ou will guard your caustic tongue, or I will gag you."

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"Shut your mouth, Christopher. You will speak to me with respect, or you'll not speak to me, at all."

"Selena is my fiancee."

Regina laughed, raking Bella with a contemptuous sneer. "Don't be ridiculous. I would never agree."

"The decision shan't be up to you," Christopher contended.

She ignored his bluster and scowled at Bella, waving dismissively. "My permission is denied. Now, why don't you scurry back to that hovel where you reside? Don't darken our doorstep again."

"Donna br
u
tta!"
Bella hissed, and she lunged as if to pummel Regina with her fists. Christopher grabbed her and stopped her.

At the rabid display, Stamford said nothing but skirted the desk to tower over her. He was attempting to awe and frighten, but she wouldn't be cowed. Who did he think he was, blustering and trying to scare her? He didn't know with whom he was dealing.

"Sit down," he commanded, looking as if he were about to commit murder. Her own!

"I prefer to stand."

"Sit! Down!" he bellowed with such vehemence that the force of his shout had her tumbling into the chair. She'd never encountered anyone who was quite so irate. Had she misjudged him?

By all accounts, he was a drunkard, laggard, and ne'er-do-well who flitted about with no concerns or passions. His bother over Kate was something Regina hadn't calculated. Not that she'd imagined Kate would ever be located. Who would have cared enough to search?

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"Don't raise your voice to me!" she warned, though without as much bombast as she'd previously exhibited. He was in a frenetic mood, capable of lashing out, and the slightest error on her part could result in a sound thrashing.

"You'll be lucky if my
voice
is all I raise." He bent over her, trapping her in her seat. "Here are the terms. You have no other options."

"Wha
t
... what terms? You'll make no demands on me. I won't tolerate it."

She tried to rise, and he yelled again. "Sit down! And by God, if you get up before I'm through, I'll bea
t
you to a bloody pulp."

She bristled with humiliation. No one had whipped her since she was twelve and had grown big enough to defend herself, but regardless of her girth, she was no match for him.

"What are your conditions?" she derided, hot with ire.

"My marriage to Melanie is off."

"No!"

As if she hadn't spoken, he continued. 'To avoid a scandal for your children, I shall be designated as their guardian."

"No," she repeated, but he kept on.

"Chris and Selena will marry, and you will not object. Nor will you attend the wedding."

"How will you prevent me?"

"The financial affairs at Doncaster will be placed under my control until Chris reaches his majority at age twenty-one."

"I forbid it!" She couldn't lose Doncaster! Despite what others believed, she'd never intended to surrender

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the reins of power to her son. She wouldn't relinquish the affluence or clout the property had provided.

Stamford smiled, a wily, conniving smile that chilled her. "Mr. Thumberton is already drafting the papers."

"I won't sign them!"

"Your signature won't be required." He smirked. "Investigators are on the trail of the money you've pocketed. What they don't manage to find you will refund of your own accord."

"Sod off, Stamford," she crudely snapped. "You have no proof I've stolen anything."

Christopher chimed in. "Give over, Mother. You were too meticulous at recording your crimes. We have all the evidence we need."

Stamford resumed. "You shall retire to Cornwall, quickly and quietly. You will withdraw to the town from which you were allowed to slither so many years ago. We will use estate funds to purchase a modest house for you, and you'll be furnished with a small stipend, but that is all."

Cornwall! The very name had her shuddering. She thought of the poverty, the coarse, downtrodden people, the toil that had been necessary to survive. She'd escaped from the dreary, gloomy spot, and
s
he wouldn't go back. They couldn't make her!

"I'll not return to Cornwall. Not for any reason."

He persisted with his tirade. "You are to depart at dawn. If you refuse, the full force of the law will fall upon you."

She was dumbstruck. She’
d
never envisioned being caught, and she'd always presumed that if she was, she would be able to talk her way out of any trouble.

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She hadn't reckoned on Stamford, on his ill will and malice, on his determination to have her brought low. Who could have predicted his attachment to Kate?

"What can you do to me? I am Countess of Don-caster, and if you suppose that you'll prevail, then you underestimate me at your peril."

"If you decline, you will be publicly prosecuted for your crimes. Embezzlement. Battery. Fraud. Kidnapping. Attempted murder. Pick your felony, Regina. For which would you like to be incarcerated?"

"My son is your peer, and he will never let you mistreat me!" She glanced at Christopher and was shocked to see him staring at her with no emotion. He and Bella were holding hands, united in their condemnation of her.

Would he abandon her? Would he side with Stamford against his own mother? How could he?

Oh, the treachery! The betrayal! He was so lacking in loyalty!

She would get even with him! She would get even with all
of them!

"What is your response?" Stamford goaded.

She was frantic to wiggle out of his trap, and she had to buy herself some time. "I'll never agree!"

"Then I shall personally attend your hanging."

"M
y
... my hanging!" Instinctively, her fingers stroked her throat, caressing her neck as if she could feel the noose tightening.

"And I plan to enjoy it. I'll bring refreshments and guests, and I will sit in the front row. I'll even ask the executioner if I may pull the rope."

She was cornered, ensnared in a conundrum of her own creation, and nervously, she gnawed on her bottom lip. "I'll need a few days to consider."

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"No. This offer is good for the next minute."

He studied the clock on the mantle. The atmosphere in the room was oppressive, the air beating down on her until she couldn't breathe. She began to perspire, her heart palpitating, as she endeavored to figure out an advantageous argument, but she was disordered by his threats.

Too rapidly, the interval was concluded, and he assessed her. "What is your reply?"

"Bastard!"

"I take that as a
yes."
He stepped away so that she could stand.

"I'll kill you for this," she vowed.

"You'll never have the chance."

She looked at Christopher, hoping for a softening, some hint of compassion or pity, but she couldn't detect a flicker of sympathy.

"You shouldn't have hurt Kate," Christopher nagged. “I’
l
l never forgive you."

How dare he castigate! How dare he condescend! Her rage spiraled till she was quaking. "I cast you out! You are no longer my child!"

She wasn't sure what reaction she'd expected, but Christopher merely shrugged. "So be it, Regina."

Stamford gestured to the door. "Proceed directly to my house and start packing. I want you gone before I arrive."

Without another word, she fled into the hall, her fury billowing out like a wave of locusts.

******************

Pamela loitered in the corridor, curious as to the parley in the library. Marcus had roared, and Regina had complained, but Pamela couldn't decipher their actual

302

comments. She wished they'd hurry! Regina had an appointment in Elliot's bedchamber.

Suddenly, Regina stormed out. She appeared positively homicidal, and Pamela could barely sti
f
le a giggle of glee. In view of what was about to transpire, she couldn't have arranged for a more perfect mood.