Authors: Regina Carlysle
“I might have known you would have a part in this, Beatrice. You always were a bloody bitch.”
“Oh, Nicholas, you have always made me tremble with your wrath.” She laughed and moved closer. Close enough to touch. Eyes lambent, she ran her palm over his chest. “Such a big, strong man. Did you know that I wanted to seduce you many years ago? You were, what? Perhaps ten and seven. Handsome enough to make any woman fling up her skirts.”
The man standing behind him finally spoke. “We have wasted enough time.”
Beatrice’s eyes narrowed to slits. “Shut up, moron. We will handle this my way.”
The gun was removed from his back, and Nicholas watched as Park Mansfield came into view. His cousin moved to stand beside Bea. Park smirked at his growl of recognition.
“Bastard!”
“Ah, cousin, you have always had such a way with words.”
Nicholas ignored the two of them for a moment and looked around the room for Eliza. If she were dead, if one tiny hair on her head was disturbed, he would slowly dismember both Park and Beatrice.
Deep within the shadows of the room, he heard a faint sound and turned to find Eliza stretched upon a dirty tick mattress. Her hands were tied to an iron headboard. A dirty cloth had been bound around her mouth, effectively gagging her. Her eyes, dark within her pale face, were alive with frustration, fairly snapping with fury.
When he looked at her, she stilled, having gotten his attention. “Are you all right?” Rushing unimpeded to her side, he drew away the gag and watched her run her tongue over dry lips. “Are you injured?”
“No,” she croaked harshly. “Untie me, Nicholas.”
He sat upon the edge of the bed, reaching up to her bound hands. Angry red marks circled the delicate skin of her wrists and an angry bruise lay dark purple on her cheek. He untied her hands and rubbed them. Eliza hissed with pain.
Pressing a kiss to each wrist, he looked at her. “Do not worry,” he whispered for her ears only.
“I won’t. I trust you. Trust us.”
“The babe?”
“Fine, I think. I have been so frightened.”
He lifted his hand to trace the purple bruise on her cheek. Turning abruptly, he pinned Park and Beatrice with a look. “Who dared mark her? Answer me!”
“We do not have to answer a goddamned thing,” Park shouted. “Especially not to you. The former duke.”
Nicholas stood and helped Eliza to sit. Swinging her unbound legs over the side of the mattress, he helped steady her before turning back to his cousin. “What does that mean exactly? Should I hazard a guess?”
Park bowed mockingly while Beatrice giggled behind her hand. “By all means, cousin.”
“You plan to kill both of us and take over the title. Simple enough to guess.”
Park set his pistol on the table and clapped his hands. “Clever. Very clever. I always credited you with intelligence.”
“I am intelligent enough to know that you will never get away with it. The plan is obvious, and you will be suspect immediately.”
“Not necessarily,” Beatrice said. She’d moved to the window, where she stood teasing the jagged, broken glass with one finger. “Get the watch, Park, and don’t be an idiot. Be careful.”
He glared at her before lifting his pistol again. Moving slowly, he reached out to remove the incriminating gold watch from Nicholas’s coat pocket. When he returned to the table, Beatrice plucked it from his hand, making him start.
“This small piece of jewelry shall be your undoing.” She smiled wickedly. “It shall soon become known that Eliza was none other than the dastardly robber who has scampered about stealing from her betters. She stole this piece from dear, dead Edward and, in a fit of revenge for her sister, killed him.” Beatrice tut-tutted and shook her head. “Poor darling Nicholas learns the truth about his bride. She is a thief and murderer. In a fit of rage, he shoots her dead then kills himself. Very neat.”
They were insane, both of them.
Eliza stood and clutched his arm. “You will never get away with this,” she said. “Why all of London knows that Nicholas and I have made a love match. Our affection is plain to see for anyone with eyes in their heads.”
“She’s right,” he added. “You will be suspect, Park, and well you know it.”
Park smiled slowly and shook his head. “Your bodies will not be discovered for some time, if ever. The Thames, as you know, is an unforgiving graveyard. Those tossed in are seldom recovered. I have plenty of time to invent an airtight alibi.”
“I have been thinking on that very thing, Park,” Beatrice said, lips quirking. “Although we haven’t spoken of this to date, I have come upon an idea for after we have killed them.”
Repulsed by them, Nicholas glanced at Eliza. It was plain to see her revulsion matched his own. How very easily they spoke of murder. How sick and twisted they were. Park and Beatrice ignored them for the moment, consumed in talk of murder plots and alibis.
They were both quite distracted.
Suddenly Nicholas turned to Eliza, praying she would understand his ploy. He shrugged out of his greatcoat and with a swirling motion settled the heavy fabric over them, cocooning them together. His arm was around her shoulders while Park and Beatrice began to shout at each other.
To the casual eye, Nicholas and Eliza could have been lovers saying their last good-byes. Lifting her chin, he stared into her eyes and murmured one word. “Boot.”
Comprehension lit her eyes. She leaned against him as if to seek comfort. While raised voices rent the air, she slowly lowered her body by small increments until her fingers touched the top of his knee-high boot. He felt a small movement as she withdrew the huge knife hidden there. Rising slowly, she placed the knife in his hand and pressed a fleeting kiss to his lips.
“But the money is mine, you stupid ass!” Beatrice shouted. Her face was red with fury as she pointed an accusing finger at Park. “The entire plan was mine, and I deserve the money. I deserve to be a duchess and as wealthy as the Prince Regent.”
“But marry you? Never.” His voice was cold, detached. Absently he flicked nonexistent lint from his coat sleeve, the pistol still gripped in one hand. Finally, he looked up. She wore a look of shock and fury. She stood before the window, where yellow moonlight feathered her dark hair and cast her face in shadow.
“Wretch!”
“Bitch,” he parried smoothly. “For months you have called me stupid, moron, and idiot!” His hand slashed the air. “No more! Stupid whore! Why would I marry a dried up old cow when I can have my pick of any debutante in England? With my wealth and the title, women will hound me morning and night. They will beg to marry me.
Smiling, he studied her from top to toe and slowly lifted the gun. “I must say, Beatrice, it has been entertaining working with you, and I sincerely thank you from the bottom of my heart.”
“Wh-wha... Park? Do not... No! You wouldn’t dare!”
Grinning, he shook his head and tutted. “You never learn do you, my dear. I dare everything.”
With those parting words, he aimed and fired. A bloom of red spread across Beatrice’s chest as she fell back. Eliza screamed and buried her face against Nicholas’s chest. His arms wrapped tightly around her for just a moment as he studied the carnage.
Beatrice lay half in, half out of the broken window. Her mouth was open in a soundless cry. Imbedded in the back of her neck were ragged shards of glass. Blood seeped in red streamers along her throat and over the grimy glass.
Laughing with delight, Park turned. “I was always a passable shot, Nicholas. Do you remember?”
He didn’t trouble with an answer. His body tightened as he readied himself to protect Eliza at all costs.
“Do not do this, Park,” she murmured huskily. “You have money. Take it and leave the country. Have you no conscience?”
“Sadly, I lost it long ago. No, my dear cousin, as much as it pains me, you must die. Both of you.” Turning to Nicholas, he motioned with the gun. “Move aside, cousin. I think I would find it enjoyable to kill your wife before your eyes.”
“Let her go!”
Park ignored him, his eyes on Eliza. She lifted her chin, defiantly. “Ah, I love it!” he said. “All spit and vinegar! I shall always regret that I did not meet you first, Eliza.”
From down below, a woman’s scream rent the air.
Park jerked toward the sound as a wicked gust of wind swept through the open window and over Beatrice’s dead body. The light went out, leaving a silver curl from the spent candle to languish then slowly drift skyward.
“Bloody hell!” he cursed in the darkness.
Nicholas was prepared. He raised the knife and let it fly. Park grunted. Moonlight streaming into the room fell upon the knife handle, which protruded from Park’s shoulder. A macabre expression lit his face as he lifted his pistol and took aim.
Nicholas shifted his body away from Eliza as he gripped the fabric of his black greatcoat. He swung the cumbersome cloth toward Park’s face, catching him up in the heavy wool. The pistol clattered to the floor as Nicholas raised his fist and struck Park in the face. Blood spurted from his nose as he tumbled helplessly backward.
As Park’s head lolled and he stumbled out of the room and onto the landing, Nicholas leaned back and planted a solid kick to Park’s chest. Breath left him with a loud whoosh of sound, and Nicholas kicked again as Park’s eyes went wild and he began to fall. The feeble rail surrounding the landing cracked beneath his weight. Screaming in panic, he tumbled over the edge.
“Nicholas!” Eliza raced to him. “Are you hurt? Are you all right?” She clutched him to her, murmuring love words, words of comfort.
“I’m fine,” he whispered against her hair. Relief swept through him. She was living and breathing, alive in his arms. He sent up a prayer of thanks and looked at her. “Park cannot threaten us more. He is gone.”
Like a crumbled doll, he lay still, his eyes open in death. A shaft of steel, bloody and sharp, impaled him as he’d tumbled from the scene of his crime. He no longer needed wealth and title. He’d found the grave instead.
Eliza shuddered in Nicholas’s arms, as together they spotted Rawlins and Pandora. Rawlins, hair standing on end, held a pistol in one hand and had his other arm bundled around Pandora. She visibly shook as she stared at Park’s lifeless body.
“I thought I told you to stay home,” Nicholas called down.
“Could not obey that command, Your Grace. Pandora and I are much too fond of the both of you.”
“That must have been your scream we heard, Pandora,” Eliza called. “Very distracting. Quite effective.”
Pandora looked up. “Never could follow orders. I never know my place either, but I am not sorry for it.” Her voice shook. “Well, we’ve done our worst so let’s leave. Besides, I never could stand the sight o’ rats.”
A furry rat squealed, hissed, and scurried in the distance. Pandora let out another bloodcurdling scream and backed away only to trip on a piece of lumber and land on her backside.
While Rawlins dropped to his knees beside her, Nicholas tugged Eliza to his side, smiling faintly. “Mmm. Seems large weapons often come in small packages. ’Tis hard to imagine a mite like her roaming about the countryside with a pistol then fainting at the sight of a rodent.”
“She is normally quite daunting.”
Eliza looked at Park’s crumpled body and burrowed into Nicholas’s arms. “I was so frightened.”
He tightened his hold on her. “What? My fearless bride? Afraid?”
“It is just that I love you so. I could not bear to live without you.”
“That will never happen, sweet,” he murmured, placing a gentle kiss upon her lips. “I will follow you, even into the hereafter.” He breathed in her sweet, familiar scent.
“Ah, yes. No doubt you will follow me there, but darling, I much prefer our heaven here on earth.”
Epilogue
Devonshire, Spring, 1821
“You grow lovelier each day, Eliza,” Nicholas said as she rested her head upon his shoulder. Unable to help himself, he teased a dark auburn curl, twining it lazily around his finger.
“Mmm. You say the nicest things. Continue please.”
He chuckled. “I shall sing your praises until I am a doddering, gray-haired man. Never fear.”
She gazed at him, love for him evident on her face. “Thank you for bringing me to Devon. Since Mama and Papa could not travel to see Alexander, it is wonderful to bring him here. Besides, I very much wanted you to see where I grew up.”
The Graysons’ country estate was indeed glorious, Nicholas thought. Set amid rolling hills with the birth of spring all around, it was a delightful interlude for them on their first trip as a family. Due to Lord Henry’s health, Eliza’s parents had left the furiously paced life in London for the quiet of the country. Though Henry seemed quite well now, they had been unable to travel south to meet their grandson.
Birds set up a cacophony in the trees just outside the parlor window on this sunny April day. Alexander, just two months old, lay in his basket bed near his parents’ feet, cooing in his own form of communication. With a soft squeal, he kicked chubby legs and began a serious study of all ten toes. Bending down, Nicholas plucked a fat toe and gave it a wiggle.
“Do you suppose he is hungry?” He frowned.
Eliza chuckled. “Believe me, darling. He shall let us know quite loudly when he needs feeding. You have much to learn about babies.”
“Indeed, I do.” Gently, he lifted his squirming son and placed a kiss upon his forehead before settling him in his arms.
Softness filled every corner of her heart as she watched father and son together. Every day seemed just one more new miracle as she studied the two faces. So much alike were they that it almost made her heart stop with pride. Alexander possessed his father’s wealth of dark hair and aristocratic nose. From her, he’d inherited eyes the color of summer pansies.
“He is as handsome as his father,” she said. “No doubt, he shall cause many female hearts to flutter.”
“Do you think so?”
“Mmm. Do not look so pleased. Heaven help us if he becomes a naughty rogue like his father.”
“You seem to like rogues quite well, the naughtier the better, or must I remind you of what you said last night while in our bed?” His grin was positively lascivious as he leaned close and whispered lewd, teasing phrases in her ear.
She felt her cheeks heat and pushed at his shoulder playfully. “Bloody hell! I hope my parents didn’t hear. Do you suppose they did?”
“If so, love, I doubt the sounds coming from our chamber were unfamiliar to them.” He gazed at Alexander and carefully stroked his son’s rosebud lips. The babe grinned, showing off his toothless state. He babbled softly. “I shall never forget the night he was born.”
“Neither shall I,” she returned drolly.
“It was raining.”
“I wouldn’t know, Nicholas. I was too busy yelling my head off.”
He smiled. “You did, you know. You yelled your bloody head off, but I am still amazed at your courage. I remember swearing then and there that I would never touch you again.”
She couldn’t help it, she laughed. “One should never make false promises, darling. But I must admit that I am extremely pleased that you have changed your mind.”
“So am I, sweetheart. So am I.”
* * * * * * * *
As night spread soft violet shadows across the land, Eliza strolled past the yard and up a nearby hill to the place where Charlotte rested. A giant oak with leaves just budding in shades of softest green guarded the family cemetery. Approaching the ironwork fence, Eliza slowly opened the gate, her eyes caught by an ivory marble angel that stood nearly as tall as she was. Darkness was falling fast.
“Ah, Lottie,” she murmured, approaching the grave. Someone, her mother no doubt, had planted yellow jonquils and bright red tulips at the base of the stone. A lilac bush nestled cozily against the angel’s flowing robe. “How I wish you were here.”
Sinking to the ground, Eliza tucked her feet beneath the hem of her soft pink dress. With a shaky finger, she traced Charlotte’s name and sighed. “He is beautiful, my Alexander, and I love him so very much. I wish he could know you, dearest. And Nicholas is my world. You would have loved him, and he would have adored you.
Feeling her twin’s presence, she closed her eyes, unafraid of the soft chill on her skin, the slight brush of wind over her hair. A great feeling of love and tenderness threatened to overwhelm her. It was as if Charlotte had come from heaven to keep her company.
Bowing her head, she breathed in the scent of flowers and freshly turned earth. “I never told you, Lottie, how much you taught me. Truth to tell, I seldom listened. You knew everything about love. Until recently, I didn’t understand the meaning of the word. I was always too cautious to believe in something that seemed so frivolous. I was wrong.”
In the distance, she heard the sound of laughter coming from the gardens behind the house. Nicholas’s voice, her father’s, then her mother’s. The people she loved, her family. Reaching out, she pulled a sturdy weed from the base of the marble and tossed it away.
“When you were taken from me, I lived in a world of hate. Quite simply, I lived for revenge. But that is not a good way to live, is it? You knew all along that people were made to love and in the end, I have learned the truth.
Looking at the evening sky, she breathed deeply of the scented air and spotted stars drifting lazily in space. “Though you were taken so young, your life is valued beyond measure. When you died, a part of my heart died with you, but you needn’t worry, Lottie. Nicholas has given my heart back to me.
“Instead of the need for revenge, love consumes me. Love rather than hate motivates and sustains me. Love learned from you. Love learned from Nicholas. And now, the love for my child. Love has been a fine teacher, Lottie, just as you were the truest sister and friend.”
Dashing tears from her face as she heard her husband approach, Eliza laughed shakily and stood.
“Are you finished with your visit?” he asked from where he stood behind the fence. His face was kind and patient as he watched her.
“Oh, yes. I believe I’ve had a wonderful visit with Lottie tonight.”
“Are you hungry? We’ve been called in for dinner. But if you’d prefer to spend more time here, I shall dine with you later.”
She laughed and moved across the quiet family cemetery until she was close enough to touch his hands. “I’ve been too long alone here, dearest. Come, let’s go inside and join the family.”
“I love you. Sometimes I find it amazing really to find that one person has made my life so complete.”
Deeply touched, she moved into his arms and together they stood, just holding each other close. Pressing her cheek to his, she looked over his shoulder to the midnight sky. A star, more vivid than the others, winked brightly. Was it possible? Could it be? Did people really move from earth into some mystical heavenly plane and guard their loved ones from afar?
She liked to think it true and just in case it was, she smiled and winked back.
The End