In the Brief Eternal Silence (73 page)

“Which is not my intention in the least—”

“And he'll not have you disappear—”

But she interrupted. “Tsk, Bertie, complain
along the way, remember? For you shall only lose at any rate and it
goes so much quicker than otherwise.”

He gave her a reluctant grin, his blue eyes
twinkling. “You are as bad as he, Miss Murdock, when it comes to
getting your own way.”

“And I shall be a great deal worse before I
am through, but that will be for him to find out and so you must
not worry upon that head. Now, I shall be outside, so you may go
ahead, if you would, please.”

“Do you not wish me to wait until he leaves?”
he asked in a conspiratory whisper.

“Oh, no. For whatever would be the point if
he were not aware of it?”

Bertie chuckled, bowed in her direction. “You
have my respect, Miss Murdock, for you are certainly much braver
than I!” But as if proving his own words wrong, he shouted the
length of the stables. “Groom here! I'll need Earl Larrimer's
carriage brought up!”

St. James' head snapped around at this sudden
order from Bertie, and Andrew turned from where he had been
watching his cousin in some impatience as he had clearly desired to
be of help and had not yet seen a chance to be. But Miss Murdock
only turned and walked out.

She made her way to the far corner of the
outside of the stables. There was a small grove of fruit trees
here, their branches mostly bare now, but low hanging and dense,
and she waited here for St. James to come out of the stables.

Her waiting was short, and when he arrived
out, leading his horse, she could see from his face that he was
thunderously angry. He caught sight of her, came to her and they
both retreated around the corner of the stables and out of sight of
any others. “I haven't time for this now, you wretched lass,” he
began. “I will have explanation, but can tell you even now that you
can disabuse yourself of whatever idea that you have.”

“But I am not asking permission, milord, I am
merely apprising you of my plans so that you may make whatever
necessary adjustments to your own.”

“Go on,” he said.

She had a sudden thought that perhaps this
was the point of no return, and that she had not passed it after
all.

As it was, she only duly noted the sign,
chalked it off on her inner map as met and passed, and plunged
ahead. “I will only be traveling to Gretna Green to await you,
milord.”

And his face relaxed as though in relief. “I
should have guessed, you misguided lass,” he told her. “And
although I appreciate the sentiment to a degree that I am certain
you can not even be aware, it is quite unnecessary.” His gold eyes
searched hers for understanding, and when she did not change
expression, he continued in a low voice, as though perhaps she
needed explanation, of which, of course, she did not.

“I have let you down at every turn, Lizzie.
But I have, at least, come to understand that my notion of
protecting you with my name and my title is of no comfort to you,
and perhaps, at least, I can find some satisfaction that if I can
only make it through to day, that if we marry then, it will be
because of your own desire, and not because I have induced you by
one unsavory action after another.

“For you must understand that if I die, you
will be again safe. And if I live, it will only be because this is
all at last at a finish, and so you shall be safe also. But either
way, a trip to the border now is either too late or too soon, but
not needed in any way at this time,” he ended softly.

But she still did not change expression, only
waited for him to finish.

He frowned at her lack of response. “I'm
sorry, Lizzie, if that inadequately expresses my sentiment for you,
but you must understand that I have been in the midst of pushing
you as far from my mind as I am able. I can not go into this with
any desire to live, or I shall die as surely as if I put a gun to
my own head.”

At last she spoke, her voice flat. “No. You
would have no care if you lived if it were only your life at stake,
would you?” But there was no question in her voice.

His expression darkened and his eyes
rekindled. “Do not question my methods, Lizzie. It is not easy to
kill and if I am not equally willing to chance all that I have, I
will hesitate at expecting the same from another, no matter what
the motivation. Even that second's hesitation can be damning.”

“Well, milord,” she replied, “since you
insist upon speaking as though you were at a gaming table, I am
just going to up the ante on you a small bit. I am going to Gretna
Green as I have said, being absolutely aware of your saying that it
is not necessary. Bertie will accompany me so that you have no fear
for my safety or distraction in what you must do. And I will await
there for you, forever if it is necessary, until you either arrive
to marry me, or send word that you are alive and well but have
decided you do not wish to marry me after all, of which, I would
not blame you, especially after what I am about to add.”

“You are exhausting me again, Miss Murdock,”
he warned, his voice rough. “I do not blame you for seeing to it
that I fulfill the promise I made to your father, especially after
all that I have put you through, but it irks me considerably for
you to think that you have to in some manner induce me to do so! If
I live, I shall marry you, and if you can not believe that, perhaps
you can believe this!” He snagged her with the hand that was not
holding his horse's reins, and pulled her against him. His eyes
bored into hers for a brief second, but before he could lower his
mouth to hers, she stopped him.

“No. Not until you have heard what I have to
say.”

His eyes flared and snapped and he did not
release her from him, but neither did he kiss her, and his lips
twisted with grimness. “I haven't the time for this, Miss Murdock,”
he told her. “You are doing your damnedest to ruin my resolve and
as I tell you I shall go at any rate, I see no purpose in it other
than you must wish to see Tyler and Steven killed as well as
myself!”

“Then I will take responsibility for those
deaths,” she told him brashly. “As well as the others that you, I
am sure, will kill, including your Aunt, which I am sure will kill
Andrew, and possibly your grandmother!”

“Damn you,” he said, his voice harsh. “Do you
think I can leave it be now, you little fool! Do you think I can go
and bring Steven's father back to life and tell him it was all a
mistake, and that I am sorry but since it is my aunt that did this
dreadful deed that I quite changed my mind and shall merely lie
down and allow her to kill me and you! Is that what you think?”

“Oh, but you would lie down and die, wouldn't
you!” she accused, her voice ravaged. “For although you hate her
with a passion for what she has already done, still does, you would
in the end decide that if it kept Andrew happy, and your
grandmother at peace, that you would merely allow yourself to be
sacrificed!”

“God damn you!”

But she continued even though she knew she
had pushed him to the edge and quite beyond it and that he was
beside himself with fury. “But you will not now, because of me.
Because they threatened me, and you can not be certain that if you
die promptly and courteously that there will still not be some
element that has escaped you to make you think I should still be in
danger. That your aunt will fear that the marriage did somehow
secretly take place, and that I even now carry a legitimate heir.
Is that not right, Dante? Can you, dare you deny it?”

But he gave her no answer, only held her
roughly, his eyes blazing.

“So this is how it shall be. I will go as I
have said. I will wait. And if I get word that you have not
survived, I will follow you in death with no regrets! No regrets
and no hesitation! Do you understand me, Dante! If you don't wish
to marry me after this, I will not blame you! If you despise me
after this, I will not blame you! But unless you wish to see me
dead as well, you had better get through this alive. Tyler and
Steven be damned. Andrew be damned. Your grandmother be damned. For
I have become as you, and I would sacrifice anyone to protect you.
And since I can not rely on any one to protect you to the degree
that I know you are capable of protecting, then I can only make
sure that you do what ever is necessary without any thought on your
part of whether your life is worth it. For it is worth it to me and
I will bear the guilt of seeing the others die, for I well know
that if it were up to you and it came to the ultimate choice, you
would choose your own death before allowing any one else to be
hurt.”

With an incomprehensible roar, he pushed her
from him, hard, and she fell back upon the ground. But she did not
flinch or even blink her eyes, but only raised herself on her
elbows and stared at him from behind her brownness.

He turned from her, his back rigid, his hands
on both butts of his pistols as his initial response was always his
weapons, and then without looking back, he caught the reins of his
horse and went to mount it. But before he put his foot in the
stirrup, he paused, his taut shoulders bunching beneath the cloth
of his coat, and then with ferocity he flung himself away from the
side of his horse and leaped at her where she still lay upon the
ground, raised only on her elbows.

He dropped to his knees and straddled her,
and she had no idea if his intention were to love her or kill her.
He stretched his body down the length of hers so that her elbows
collapsed and she lay beneath him.

His hand went to her face, held her jaw, and
he looked at her very deeply and exposed for one second and then
his mouth was on hers with no gentleness or consideration if he
hurt her but only filled with desperate need. She wrapped her
fingers in his dark hair and pulled him closer and the kiss lasted
for far too short a time.

Then he pulled his head back, and he told her
with curtness, “We play in hard earnest now, Lizzie, for I am past
the recall and you have pushed me there. You had better be in
Gretna Green as you say, for the next time I have you beneath me,
it will not end with a kiss. Up!” And he stood and yanked her with
urgency to her feet.

He released her, mounted quickly, reined his
horse in a swift circle, turning his head so that his eyes did not
leave hers but for a second, then he kicked his mount and its
hooves tore up the sod as he pushed it into hard canter around the
corner of the stables and he was gone from her sight.

Lizzie put a dazed hand to her lips, but she
did not cry.

“Mrs. Herriot!” the duchess yelled and banged
her cane. “Damn— Soren!” But there was no response, which annoyed
the old dowager, for they had surely heard the shot as well and
should know that she would be wanting up from her chair.

She heard the front entrance door open. “Miss
Murdock!” she cried with relief. But it was not Miss Murdock. A
dirty lad peeped around the door frame at her, her only impression
of him besides dirtiness: two large gray eyes. “Lad! You shall do!
Come in, come in.”

The boy came in, wiping his nose on his
sleeve as he did so, a filthy habit, and the duchess was tetching a
little at this sight. “Yer t'duchess, ma'am?” he asked her.

“Indeed I am and you will help me up from my
chair so that I may see what has become of my grandson,” the old
lady said as she once again leaned forward and attempted to rise,
but the legs that had obeyed her in the middle of the night refused
her this morning.

“St. James, ma'am?” the boy asked and then
went on without waiting for confirmation. “'E's fine. An' t'other
one, too, t'tall gent with t'red hair.”

“Young Mister Tempton,” the dowager supplied,
but she leaned back again in her chair, her face very pale and her
childlike chest breathing hard and closed her eyes. “And t'is
milord to you, lad, as far as the duke is concerned.”

“Aye, m'lady,” the lad agreed. “I's forget's
sometimes, I do, but he hasn't boxed me ears yet t'over it.”

“You are acquainted with my grandson then?”
the duchess asked, her eyes opening and filling with interest as
she thought of ways to grill the boy in front of her.

“Aye,” he said. “But Tyler, he warned me
'bout you. Said I was t'deliver 'is message and get out right
quick. An' stay outta reach o' your cane, too!”

The dowager gave a low chuckle. “A message
from Tyler? Well, lets have it, lad!” and she held out her
hand.

Her other hand, however, had not left her
cane, and Steven, seeing this, bethought himself to take no
chances, and he pulled out the folded missive with its atrocious
hand-printing upon it, and threw it to her from several cautious
feet away. It landed in her lap, and as he saw that his mission was
fulfilled, he bolted for the door, a stream of curses ringing in
his ears at his neat escape.

“—bloody, insolent, young ruffian, beggar
boy,” the duchess finished, but her hands were unfolding the note,
and there was an unconscious prayer in her mind that for once, just
one time, Tyler would have put St. James' wishes aside and perhaps
done something out of duty to her, his original employer.

She read the missive slowly. Indeed, she
could not have read it quickly, for deciphering it was a challenge
in itself. But at last she had the whole of it, and she read it
through again, and her thin lips tightened, and the wrinkled flesh
of her face sagged and her doll-like body stiffened.

Milady Duchess of St. James, it read a good
deal unevenly.

I've been plugged on t'road to London, gone
to take care of t'piece of the business that I can't rightly reckon
St. James can have t'stomach for. The one behind the foul deed is
none other than yer daughter-in-law, Lady Lydia Larrimer! I don't
entirely know how milord arrived at this conclusion, but what I
knows of it is damnin'. I stand on it as correct at any rate. After
twenty-three years of searchin' I can't hardly see where he'd be
wrong at this late date.