by Jenna Brandt
As the bullet struck the man, he crumpled to the ground. Margaret stood still for several seconds before she could move. Randall was promptly back on his feet and headed over to the stranger, and Margaret followed behind him.
Randall kicked the pistol away from the man’s body.
Even as the man lay dying, he was unable to go quietly and without threats. “I won’t be the last, girl.” He coughed raggedly a couple of times, and then added, “There’ll be others.” And then the stranger was dead.
Margaret stared at him for several moments before she started to shake. She had to choke back the bile that was rising in her throat. She had never taken a life before. This man planned to harm her and her family, but even knowing that, the overwhelming guilt she felt was crashing in on her.
Dropping to her knees besides the man, Margaret began to sob into her hands with her head bowed in sorrow.
Randall grabbed her by the arm and pulled her up, saying, “Listen to me, Margaret. This was not your fault. You had no choice. He was going to kill me and do God knows what to you.”
“I killed him. He was alive, and now he is dead because of me.”
“No, Margaret, he is dead because of himself and what he chose to do.”
Randall quickly looked around the room. “We need to get out of here. The other man could wake up at any time, and we do not want to be here when he does.”
Margaret minutely nodded.
“Are you going to be all right?” Randall asked.
“I do not know.”
“You are going to get past this. You are strong enough. I can see that.”
Margaret looked at her brother for several seconds before leaning into him for support. “Take me out of this place. I cannot stand to be here another moment.”
As they headed towards the door, the other man stumbled in to the room. He looked around and saw his dead boss. “What did you fools do? This isn’t going to end well for you.”
“You need to let us go or it is not going to end well for you,” Randall stated firmly.
“Are you threatening me, kid?”
“No, I am telling you that, for anything you have done, I have done worse. You do not want to underestimate me.”
The other man snorted while raising his gun and aiming it at Randall. “Your kind has no idea how the real world works.”
Randall shook his head. “I think you are mistaken about what type of person I am. I am not from her pampered, noble world. I am from the same world as you, and you have no idea what I am capable of.”
Margaret watched as Randall simultaneously raised his pistol and fired. The bullet hit the other man in the face and he fell to the ground, instantly dead. It seemed that Randall was still the same crack shot he was from childhood hunts back in England.
What shocked Margaret was that he did it so methodically, like he had shot someone before, most likely several times, and it no longer seemed to disturb him. Somehow, it seemed that Mulchere did not find out all the details of Randall’s seedy past.
“I need to get you out of here before someone comes to investigate those shots.”
Still shaken, Margaret did not protest as Randall guided her out of the building.
Chapter 16
Returning to the tavern, the twins checked on how Mulchere and the carriage driver were doing after the incident. Both insisted they were unharmed other than a few bumps and bruises. The driver maintained he was well enough to drive Margaret and Randall back to her home.
As they pulled in front of her residence, Randall asked in disbelief, “This is your place?”
Margaret nodded. Still numb from the ordeal that had just happened, she stared out the carriage window as if seeing someone else’s life. She had never really thought about where she lived, but she supposed that it was way above the average French society standards. If she was honest with herself, her estate was quite lavish. It had the refined older French style that many other estates tried to imitate but could not accomplish.
The two of them sat in her carriage, looking at her estate, both of them seemingly still in shock over what had transpired that night.
“I had no idea that you had this kind of money.”
“I do not. A family friend procured this place for me. It is only temporary until I am married.”
“So, you are engaged.”
“I am.”
“Can I ask why your fiancé did not accompany you tonight when you came to find me?”
“He offered. I did not want to involve him in this.”
Randall stepped down from the carriage and then helped Margaret down as well. They were now standing outside the front doors to her estate.
“When are you going to clue me in to what happened tonight?”
Margaret glanced down at the ground, afraid that if her twin was looking her in the eyes, she would not be able to lie to him.
“They took me to ransom me back to my fiancé.”
“Does this sort of thing happen often?”
“Not often, but it does happen.”
“But that does not make sense, Margaret. That man said he would not be the last, that there’ll be others. The way he said it seemed to imply that whoever sent him knew you somehow.”
“I do not know what he was talking about,” Margaret protested.
“I see.” But she could tell from his tone that Randall was not completely convinced she was telling him the whole truth.
Margaret looked up and wearily smiled at her brother. “I want to thank you for what you did tonight. Although, I feel as if ‘thank you’ does not adequately do justice for your intervention.”
Randall smiled back at her. “Well, I hoped to impress you. Did it work?”
“Yes, and then some.”
“Good, then maybe I can convince you dump your fiancé and run off with me.”
Margaret laughed and said, “I think you are better off finding a woman more suitable for you than me.”
He tenderly put his hand on the side of her face and declared, “I do believe that every woman would pale in comparison to you.”
It felt odd letting her brother continue to not know they were related. If he did, she doubted he would be making those types of comments to her. But then, it made sense that he would think her beautiful. They were twins, and even though opposite sex twins often did not look identical, they did. When she looked at him, it was like looking at a male version of herself.
“I need to tell you something—”
But before she could tell Randall that he was her brother, she heard a voice from behind her say, “Excuse me, sir, but please remove your hand from my intended.”
Margaret’s brother glanced up and narrowed his eyes. Then, as if he was daring the other man to start something, he slid his hand from her cheek to around her waist.
She nudged him in the side and whispered out of the corner of her mouth, “What are you doing?”
He whispered back, “Seeing if this man is worthy of you.”
This was so like her brother. He had always been reckless and constantly overstepped his boundaries. Not to mention completely overprotective of her.
She stepped out of his grasp and walked over to her fiancé, saying, “Michel, I need to talk to you, privately.”
The marquis glanced over at Margaret’s brother skeptically and then nodded in agreement.
She pulled him aside, and when she was sure she was out of hearing of Randall, she explained, “This is not what it appears to be. That man standing on the steps to my home is my twin brother.”
Michel glanced over her shoulder as if studying the other man to confirm her story. “I was under the impression that you had no family besides your son.”
“That was because, until recently, my brother had been presumed dead. The ship that was supposed to bring him home from boarding school went down just off the French shoreline eight years ago. They found my brother’s tattered monogrammed shirt and informed us that he had not survived. But
I always had my doubts and believed that, without a body, there was a chance that he had lived. When I left England, I decided to come here to search for him.”
She waited anxiously to see what Michel planned to do. “You are informing me that you had a twin brother who has been lost all these years and this is him?”
“Yes, and I am asking you not to tell him who I am or who you are at the moment. I need time for him to adjust to everything and who he is before I give him even more information to absorb. You see, he lost his memories from before the wreck. He does not know who I am at present.”
He thought for a moment. “All right. I will not say anything so long as he does not touch you like that again.” He glanced at Margaret’s brother and back at her, adding, “After what you told me, it is quite obvious, since he looks exactly like you.”
She smiled and leaned up, giving him a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you for understanding.”
Michel walked over to where Margaret’s brother was standing. He extended his hand and Randall stared at it a moment, then slowly shook it.
“My fiancée just informed me of who you are, and I am… pleased to make your acquaintance. I know your sister quite well, and she is a very special woman.”
Without acknowledging the marquis’s statement, Randall asked Margaret, “Speaking of my newly acquired sister, when is it that I am going to meet her?”
Margaret stepped forward, saying, “Shortly. First, I am to prepare you for everything that is to come, and hopefully by then, you will remember your past.”
He looked at her skeptically, as if that was doubtful, but somehow she knew it was not. She was going to get her brother back. She did not come to France and go through what she had that night for nothing.
“Let us all go inside, shall we?”
Margaret rapped the door knocker. Only a few moments lapsed before Albert opened the doors, saying, “Welcome home, my lady,” expecting only to find Margaret and Michel on the other side. But as he looked at the man standing next to her, his mouth gaped open, shocked to see his long-lost master, whom he had presumed dead, standing before him, quite alive.
Answering quickly before he could say anything, Margaret said, “Thank you, Albert, and could you please have the servants assembled in a half hour. I need to speak to all of them immediately.”
Margaret knew she needed to explain to her servants that she had found Randall, and she wanted to do it before they had a chance to unknowingly blurt out that she was his sister.
“Yes, my lady, I will do that right now,” he said, still gawking at Randall.
A sharp noise was heard down the hall, followed by the commotion of shuffling feet. There were a couple of shouts before she heard a loud yelp, and from around the corner came her son. He was rushing towards her, stumbling a little bit, as toddlers often did, and cried, “Mama.”
She got down on her knees and stretched out her arms to her son. He rushed into them and she gave him a big kiss on the forehead.
It felt so good to hold him after all she had gone through that night. The thought that she might never see him again or that he could have been taken from her was still fresh.
“How’s my boy?”
Henry wrinkled his nose. He was still too young to understand her. He could say “mama” and “ja-ja,” which was his name for Jackie.
He had only been walking the past month, but he was a fast learner. He was keeping Sarah and Motty busy.
Wiggling out of her arms, he placed both of his hands in her hair. He loved playing with her curls. When she shook her ringlets in his face, he began to giggle and clap his hands.
“You have a son?” Randall sighed. “More and more surprises. And where might the father be?”
Margaret had temporarily forgotten about her brother. She stood and picked up Henry to face Randall.
“I was married to his father, if that was what you were wondering, but he died two years ago.”
Motty rushed into the room, saying, “I am sorry, my lady. He would not go to bed without kissing you first. I can take him now if you like.”
“Thank you, Motty. I would appreciate that.”
The young girl took Henry and rushed out of the room with him.
“How many other surprises do you have hiding around here?”
“More than most people, I suppose.” She opened the doors to her parlor and asked, “Would you both come in and join me for a nightcap?”
Wearily, Michel declined. “I need to be on my way. I just wanted to make sure your situation had been resolved without difficulty, and it seems that it has,” he said, looking directly at Randall.
Margaret nodded. “Very well. Will you come by tomorrow for tea in the afternoon?”
“I will try to make it. If not, I will still be here for dinner as we planned.” With that, he exited the room.
“That was quite an interesting move for your fiancé to make, leaving us alone.”
She shrugged off his comment. “He trusts me.”
“It is not you but me I thought he would not trust.”
“Why? He has no reason to mistrust you,” she said as she picked up a bottle of brandy to pour them drinks.
“No, not yet.”
She did not like the sound of that. She decided that she needed to make a few things clear.
Margaret put down the bottle and said, “Let me make this plain. Nothing is going to happen between us. I need you to be aware that if you do attempt anything, you will come to regret it. Do I make myself understood?”
“I understand what you are saying. It does not mean I have to agree with it.”
“Randall, I am serious.”
“Fine. Let us table this discussion for another time, but in the meantime, I have another question.”
Margaret sighed. She was getting tired of answering questions, especially because it was a significant endeavor to keep Randall from figuring out she was lying, since they were so much alike.
“What is it?”
“Why does it seem like you are keeping something from me?”
“I am not. Can you not see it is difficult for me to talk about?”
“Then I will not bring it up again.”
“I appreciate it.”
He walked over to the window, folded his arms across his chest, and leaned on his side to stare out.
The hair on the back of her neck started to rise. He did not know it but he was standing there and staring out the window exactly how she had back home when he had been presumably lost at sea.
“Why are you doing that?”
He turned to face her. “Doing what?”
“Looking out the window like that.”
“The window back at my room at the tavern does not have this grand a view, but it does have a view of the docks that is not altogether shabby. When I need to think about something or am contemplating what I should do next, I always find comfort looking out at the world.”
She tightened her lips. Any doubt she had about him being her brother was gone now. This one confession made it perfectly clear that he was Randall.
“I need to tell you something.”
“Can it wait until tomorrow? I am suddenly really tired.”
Margaret started to object but realized that it could wait until then. They had forever to catch up.
“Yes, it can. I will have Albert show you to your room.”
After Randall turned in for the evening, Margaret addressed the servants in the salon.
“I want all of you to hear from me how my twin brother, Lord Randall Wellesley, the Earl of Renwick, was found. Most of you did not know him, with the exception of Alfred. We did not speak of my brother often, as it was a difficult subject for the family, and my father did not cope well with Randall’s presumed death.
“Eight years ago, he had been returning from boarding school when the ship went down in a storm off the coast of France. Randall was never found and was presumed dead. They never found his body, and I believed there w
as a chance he was still alive. When I decided to leave England, I chose to come here in hopes of finding him.
“I hired a private investigator, and he was able to locate Randall. I went to where he had been staying to bring him to stay with me. Unfortunately, he has lost his memories from before the wreck, but I am hopeful that, with time, he will regain some of them. Are there any questions?”
Alfred hesitantly asked, “From his attire, I can only assume Lord Randall was living below the standard to which his title dictates.”
“Yes, Alfred, Randall faced extreme difficulties while living in France without his family. He had to make a lot of hard choices in order to survive. But all of that is in the past. We are moving forward together, and our goal is to do whatever it takes to help his memories return and to reacquaint him with the customs and privileges of his title. I have not divulged to him that I am his sister, as I did not want to overwhelm him with that information while he is adjusting. I would appreciate everyone refraining from telling him until I deem it time.”
All of the servants nodded.
“That will be all. I appreciate all of your support through this process.”
After the servants left the room, Margaret went over to the window and looked out at the street, which was illuminated by the gas lamps that lined it. There was a thin fog in the air, giving a mysterious feel to the view.
Margaret was grateful that she had found Randall, but she worried about his ability to adapt. Could he change in order to fit into aristocratic society? He had lived the past decade without any scrutiny or accountability. Would he be willing to give up his vagabond ways in order to live a life of privilege?
Lord, please help Randall to remember who he was and who he can be. Be with him while he learns to navigate all the changes that lay ahead for him. Help me to know the right time to tell him who I am. I want us to be close again, but I know it can only happen after I tell him I am his sister. I pray for your guidance and strength to know what to do and how to make the right decisions.
It was time to go to sleep. She was exhausted from all the activity that evening. She went from being proposed to by Michel, to finding her long-lost brother, to being kidnapped. Margaret was shocked she was still on her feet, considering. Tomorrow was a new day, and she knew she needed to rest so she would be ready to help her brother.
