Moonstruck Madness (40 page)

"Well, we will see," Mary hesitated, ignoring Colonel Fletcher's startled look.

The next day a summer rain shower kept them indoors as the distant rumble of thunder rattled china and flashes of lightning played across the windows.

Aunt Margaret was busily embroidering while Mary and Sabrina sat close, heads together as they contemplated several lists before them. Lucien was teaching an absorbed Richard the proper care and maintenance of his pistols, and occasionally Sabrina would glance up as she caught
a
word or two.

"You really shouldn't be demonstrating the use of a pistol in the salon," Sabrina said as she got up, stretching tired shoulders as she came to stand beside Lucien.

"Oh, Rina," Richard said worriedly, lest he be cheated out of a lesson, "Lucien did promise."

Lucien nodded his head.
"I
can't break a promise, now can I?" He winked at Richard, who was lifting one of the pistols and pretending to aim it at a distant target.

"No, no, Richard," Sabrina spoke suddenly, and reaching out casually picked up the other pistol and aimed it steadily. "You grasp the butt firmly, yet not
tightly,
and easily pull the trigger. Don't rush it. And be sure to hold the barrel—" she began knowledgeably, stopping abruptly
as she realized what she said. Her face grew pale and the hand holding the gun so assuredly a moment before began to shake.

Richard was staring open-mouthed and Mary's eyes had grown wide with consternation. Lucien reached out and pried the pistol loose from Sabrina's fingers.

"Why, Lucien? Why did I know what to do? How could I possibly be so at ease with pistols? I don't remember ever having held one before," she said in puzzlement as she looked up at Lucien in panic.

He put an arm around her shoulders comfortingly. "It's not unusual, love. Your grandfather must have taught you as a small child. It's nothing to become distressed over." He looked down into her upturned face. "Now smile, come on, no sour faces on a day like this, it's bad enough outside."

Sabrina smiled slightly, unable to resist the look in Lucien's warm eyes, but her doubts returned to her later that evening as she lay in bed unable to sleep.

"Sabrina?" A voice spoke softly from the door.

Sabrina sat up in her bed and stared through the darkness. "Lucien?"

"And who else could it possibly be?" he asked as he drew near the bed. "I thought you might be lonely?"

"Not any longer, Lucien," Sabrina said softly, her heart beating quickly as she felt the bed give under his weight. He drew back the covers and slid beneath, taking her in his arms as he lay down beside her. Sabrina buried her face in his neck, pressing close to his warm body.

"I couldn't go to sleep. I've been so worried about everything, and all I needed was you, Lucien," Sabrina whispered against his throat.

"I knew I should've made your bed mine long before now," Lucien murmured as he nibbled at her ear. "I'll not have you worrying your foolish head about that incident this afternoon. I thought it was time I gave you something else to think about."

Lucien's lips captured hers as he pulled her tightly against his chest, her eager mouth opening beneath the pressure of his. She rubbed her hands over his chest and up behind his neck and into the thick golden curls, feeling herself respond to his hands as they moved over her body knowingly.

"Make me forget everything, Lucien, everything except you," Sabrina pleaded as she moved wantonly against his body. "Lucien, love me."

"Sabrina, my love," Lucien replied, kissing his name from her lips as he made her forget everything but his lovemaking.

Here's the devil-and-
all
 
to
pay.

Miguel de Cervantes

Chapter 13

"
WE
get them extra bottles of rum in yet?"
Will
 
asked
John, who was polishing several knives and spoons.

"Came this afternoon," he replied without looking up from his chore. "You know,
I
kind a miss the excitement of riding with Charlie."

"Yeah, being respectable isn't very exciting," Will agreed, picking up a spoon, and breathing on it, rubbed it clean on the corner of his coat.

"Wonder how she's doing? She was mighty sick."

"Poor little Charlie. Think she really did forget al about us like the Duke said?" Will
speculated
doubtfully.

"Sure, she would've been to see us if she hadn't. Really miss her, so does Mam."

"After that meeting with the Duke, you know, when he was threatening to string us up for allowing Charlie to stay in the marsh, I sort of respect him. He isn't really all that bad, and I figure he really does care for her."

"Think so?"

"Yeah, and what's more,
I
think Charlie is in love with him," he said thoughtfully,
then
chuckled. "She better be,
after he made us give back all of Charlie's loot. Be madder'n hell if she knew."

"He sure can fight," John said with admiration.

"Just glad that we're on the same side now," Will commented thankfully, "and that he isn't one to hold grudges against a person."

"But what about the colonel?
He's gotten mighty sweet on Lady Mary," John said jealously. "Think he knows about us? Or even about Charlie?"

Will shrugged. "If he did, he would've been here with
a
patrol to arrest us, and if he knew about Charlie, do you think he'd ruin his chances with the Lady Mary by hanging her sister? Besides, Charlie's
a
Duchess now, and I wouldn't want to tell the Duke you
was
planning on stringing up his wife." Will rubbed his chin reflectively. "Yeah, we're sitting real pretty, John, and I figure
it's
better to be bored than hanged."

John nodded and put a big hand to his thick neck protectively. He glanced around the largest, and nicest, of their private rooms. The oak-paneled walls and oak beams, combined with the fireplace and colorful landscape above it, created
a
very hospitable room. It was especially nice when the sun shining through the only stained glass window in the inn, and imported especially from London, created a rainbow of colors.

Will left John to his work and went out into the hall, stopping as he heard the sounds of a coach pulling up close to the door. Opening it he stood waiting, a smile of welcome on his broad face as he watched a man and a woman climb from the coach. "Welcome, I'm Will Taylor, the landlord and your host while you stay at the Faire Maiden Inn. Will you be requiring rooms, refreshments?" he inquired of the gentleman before him.

Lord Percy Rathbourne gave a cursory glance at the big fellow as he escorted Kate into the hall.

"We shall require a couple of rooms and your best private dining room. You may now show us to our rooms. Oh, and I expect neat wine," he told Will imperiously.

Will flushed with anger as he answered steadily, "We never water our wines. We've a good and honest reputation. Air our beds, good food and fair prices."

Lord Rathbourne started to make a scathing retort when he was interrupted by a peevish voice. "Oh, do come along, Percy, I grow fatigued listening to you argue with this rustic."

Will led them silently to their rooms, and finding John in the kitchen downstairs, grumbled to him about the fancy high-borns upstairs. "Oughta double-charge them and pepper the beef, but good. Like to see the gent in such a sneezing fit he'd shake the wig off his head."

John grinned as he sampled a slice of thick beef, and nodding his head said, "Could use a dash here, I think." With a sly grin he shook a liberal dose of pepper over the meat. Looking at the serving maid he pointed to the cut of beef and ordered, "Make sure this goes to the new arrivals, eh, Midge?"

"Right, John," she answered with a grin of relish, having already crossed paths with the fancy lady upstairs. "Maybe they won't be a'wantin' to stay so long after samplin' our food?" With a broad wink she lifted the tray and carried it from the room.

Will had returned to the hall when three men entered, and he quickly took their measure, not caring for their unkempt appearance as they loitered in the hall. "Can I be of service to you gents?" he asked doubtfully.

"I dunno, who be ye?" one of the three demanded belligerently.

"I'm the owner of the Faire Maiden, that's who, so if
you're wantin'
a room, then fine, although I doubt you can afford it. If not, then be off," Will
answered
in slightly less than a roar.

The man who'd spoken for the three earlier shuffled his feet as he reassessed the big landlord who stood glowering at them. He spread his dirty hands pleadingly, a deprecating grin on his face as he cajoled, "Ah, come on, mate, I meant no harm. My bunkies and me, well, we
needs
a place to ride anchor, so to speak. Now, we can pay for
a
couple of nights bedding.
If our money's good enough?"

Will
shrugged
with displeasure. "Money is money no matter whose pocket it comes out of, but you'll have to eat in the kitchen," he cautioned, hoping it would put them off. "We haven't got a common dining room."

But the spokesman for the three merely shrugged. "As long as the food'll fill our bellies and ye got somethin' to wet our whistle, we're happy."

Will frowned. "Just make sure you do your heavy drinking elsewhere.
We,
and I mean my brother and me when I say that," he grinned as John came up behind him to tower over the three smaller men, "don't deal lightly with drunks who feel like brawlin' on the premises."

The three men grinned feebly before the superior strength of the two brothers. "Sure, mate, as innocent as little lambs we'll be. Not a peep out o' us, eh?" he promised, sending a look to his two friends who promptly nodded their scruffy heads in agreement.

"What are you doing here? We don't have entertainment that'd keep you more than a day," John asked curiously, his eyes narrowing suspiciously as the three exchanged secretive looks between them.

"Just restin' up before
we
ships out o' Dover. No harm in a bloke gettin' a little country
air,
now is there?" he demanded truculently.

"As long as that's all you leave with, mate," Will warned them, and then with a jerk of his big chin, motioned them to follow him upstairs to their room.

As they made their way along the hall behind Will's broad back, they passed Lord Rathbourne and Kate who were on their way downstairs to dine. With little more than a perfunctory glance at the three, Lord Rathbourne continued behind the swishing satin skirts of Kate.

"See those fellows we passed in the hall?" Percy asked after having seated Kate and quenched his thirst with a goblet of wine.

Kate looked up at him derisively. "Dear, dear Percy,
I
am above casting my eyes at every male I happen to pass. Besides," she added archly, "I hardly think there is anyone here worth my time and effort. Not quite up to my standards, dear."

Percy scowled at her. "Your own guilty conscience and sharp tongue put you to the blush, my dear, for I was not questioning your amorous intentions, but merely drawing your attention to the fact that those three gentlemen we passed happened to be none other than Jeremy Pace and his hirelings," Percy emphasized nastily.

Kate smiled at the revelation. "Jeremy Pace. How wonderful. He is the chap we hired to dispose of dear cousin Lucien. I'm sorry now I didn't take a closer look. They say you can always tell a murderer by his eyes."

Percy snorted.
"More likely by the sharpness of his blade and jingle in his pockets."

Percy took a bite of beef and began to chew, only to turn bright red in the face as he gagged. Kate stared in alarm as Percy choked on the piece of meat until he finally managed to spit it out. "Merciful God, what in blazes
are
they serving here!" he croaked, tears streaming down his cheeks.

Kate prodded her piece of beef experimentally, an uncertain look on her face as she found nothing. Cutting
a
small piece from the edge, she nibbled at it carefully, then finding nothing amiss, swallowed.

"It tastes fine to me, Percy. You must've taken too large
a
bite."

"Too large a dash of pepper is closer to the truth," he complained, pushing his plate aside and swallowing his glass of wine to douse the fire in his throat. "I shall certainly complain to the landlord over this," he promised angrily.

"Do remember, Percy, that we aren't here to attract attention, in fact, I wonder at you dragging me down here as well," she demanded.

"For moral support, of course," Percy sneered at her. "Haven't you always said that you could handle things better than I could? Well, now is your chance to see me finally rid our lives of Lucien's
presence.
"

"You hope," Kate commented cynically as she pushed the food around on her plate idly. "We haven't succeeded yet, have we, dear?"

"This time we will," he
vowed,
his eyes full of malice. "Lucien's time is coming shortly to an end."

"And will he leave a grieving widow?" she asked meaningfully.

Percy smiled and laughed with abandon. "I fear not, alas, the poor Duke and Duchess are to be murdered while still celebrating their marriage. A pity, for the new Duchess was so young and beautiful to die so tragically," Percy concluded sadly, his sherry eyes sparking with anticipation.

"I do believe I underestimated you at times, Percy. You are a cunning devil. What is the plan?" she asked, intrigued.

Percy shook his head.
"Not yet, my dear.
The manner of his demise is of course all planned, but as yet the time is not set. Our not-so-nice friends upstairs will watch his movements and then we will act. He is lost, my dear Kate.
Completely lost."

He walked behind her and placing a gentle hand on each shoulder, massaged her skin persuasively. "I think now all we need worry about is how I am to spend my inheritance."

"We,
darling, how
we
are to spend it, and never fear that I shall not be able to think of something," Kate corrected her twin, then advised him, "and do try to show a small degree of grief when you see the Dowager Duchess. After all, Lucien is her favorite grandson."

"I shall be the picture of wretchedness.
Steeped to the lips in misery, heart-stricken by grief."

"All right, Percy, just don't overplay your part. It's common knowledge that you and Lucien don't get along. It would be a bit odd at this late date to be in tears."

"Not to worry. I know how to play the role well. It will be my finest performance," Percy boasted confidently.

Two mornings later they were still paying guests at the Faire Maiden, although most of the staff, including Will and John, would have preferred to have seen the back of them rather than continue to accept their money and the gripes and unreasonable demands that accompanied it.

"Playing cards all day long, they are. What are they doin' here anyway?" John grumbled as he came back with another bottle of rum from the cellars. "Here, you take it in to them. I'm not taking any more of their orders."

Will took the bottle with a sour look and, taking a cloth, wiped it clean of dust. "Startin' on the bottle a bit early, aren't they?" Will
commented
dryly.

"Jumpy as cats every time someone enters the room.
Act like they're sitting on thorns, the two of them, especially pretty-boy in there. Always asking for a bowl of water to wash his hands as if they
was
dirty, or something.
Gives me the creeps."