Rutledge’s lip curled with such venom, Connor felt it curdle in his gut. “You will pay for the humiliation I’ve suffered this day,” Rutledge ground out. “In the end, you will suffer my vengeance.”
“No, you will be the one to suffer now. Reputation, Duke,” Piper spat out. “It was already tarnished because of your son. What will you do when it’s gone? When all of London knows of your evil deeds?”
“Shall I share with them what I did to you?” he hissed.
She blanched but did not quail. “Do whatever you like. Say whatever you like. I’ll not go quietly or willingly. I will never let you lay a finger on me again.”
“Yet these fingers have been on you. Touched you.” He showed his hands as he taunted her, though a bead of sweat trickled down his forehead. “I made you mine. You are mine.”
Connor squelched the instinct to duck as she waved the pistol in his direction. “I am his. He made me his and I will always be his. You, I will kill for daring to think otherwise.”
Her fingers curled around the grip. The barrel came up…
“Piper!”
Chapter 33
I used to believe in happy endings. Now I know they’re true.
~ from the diary of Piper Brudenall, September 1895
Real fear flashed across Rutledge’s face and he scrambled to the side. Connor wouldn’t have sworn to it, but he thought he saw Piper give him a second’s respite before she jerked the barrel of the gun skyward and pulled the trigger.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Connor yelled as the duke’s henchmen all held their guns to the ready. One wrong move and they’d have a shootout the likes of which he’d only read about in penny novels on their hands. “Temple!”
Temple swore under his breath and lowered his gun with a sigh. “Mr. Cavendish! If you please.”
“Scotland Yard. Surrender your weapons, gentlemen!”
The leader of the men approaching from down the street flashed his badge and a raised an arm. At the flick of his wrist, the lawmen hastened their advance at a run. At the same time, the assembled crowd parted for the troop of uniformed bobbies.
Turning as one, Rutledge’s hired thugs reacted with varying degrees of surprise and rebellion. But, now vastly outnumbered, forfeited their weapons without fight or argument, all claiming they had no intention of shooting anyone. Some insisted they didn’t even know the duke.
“You have enough?” Temple questioned the nattily-dressed commander.
“I’ve got your affidavit and testimony to kidnapping and coercion,” Cavendish confirmed, making notes in a small notebook. “I believe I overheard enough to add a confession to those charges to his record.”
“Oi, ye weren’t close enough to hear anything,” one of Rutledge’s men protested as he was shackled.
“Careful or I’ll charge you with the same,” the lawman told him. He turned to furious duke as Rutledge rose, dusting himself off. “Lord Ambrose Waldegrave, you are under arrest.”
“Me? She threatened to kill me,” Rutledge accused, glaring at the lawman with all his hauteur. “I demand you arrest her.”
“Correction, I tried to kill you,” Piper clarified and waved the pistol dramatically toward his nether regions, drawing the attention of everyone around them to follow its path. “Seems it frightened you enough to cause a small accident, Duke. You might want to cover yourself lest your fragile reputation takes a far more disastrous turn.”
Rutledge’s face scrunched into crimson folds. He appeared near apoplexy. Unfortunately, Connor didn’t think they’d get that lucky, but Piper pointing out the aftermath of the duke’s loosened bladder would effectively mar the man’s reputation beyond redemption. Only the suggestion of impotence would have been more effective and satisfying.
The duke strained against the men holding his arms. “You are more trouble than your brother ever was. You will pay for this.”
Connor doubted it. However, even if Rutledge did take another crack at vengeance, nothing could redeem his reputation now. Within days, the news would travel and exacerbate. By the time the gossip reached London, the duke would have cowered before a mere wisp of a lass, begged for mercy, and pissed himself as a result of morbid fear. He’d be a laughingstock, if he dared show his face.
“We’ll take it from here, my lady.” Cavendish said as he stepped between them to defuse the situation. Wetting the tip of his pen with his tongue, the lawman ignored him and flipped the page on his notebook. “I believe I overheard a confession of rape to add to the other charges.”
“The prince shall hear about this.” As low as he’d been brought, Rutledge remained angry and defiant as two bobbies attempted to shackle his wrists. “Unhand me. I am the Duke of Rutledge!”
“It’s over,” Connor said to him. “Ye’ve lost.”
Hatred darkened the duke’s eyes. “A Rutledge never loses. Never surrenders.”
Connor clasped Piper’s hand and drew her away from the crowd. Wincing at the sight of the revolver still in her hand, he gingerly reached for it.
“Don’t fuss. My finger wasn’t on the trigger.” She handed over the pistol. “Did you know you’re not supposed to rest your finger on it? They seem to find it worrisome.”
Connor groaned and hauled her into his arms, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Lessons, first thing.”
“Not first thing,” she corrected.
“Nay?” He lifted an inquiring brow.
“You, sir, are a spoilsport,” Temple interrupted, clapping Connor on the shoulder as he passed. “Forcing me to have Cavendish intervene just as it was getting interesting?”
“Ye wanted sport, ye shouldnae have let her get into the middle of it,” he growled in response. “I was more than willing to partake.”
Aye, he’d been eager to draw blood. To see Rutledge suffer as Piper had at his hand. And to expend his own vexation in the process. As much as he itched for a fight, Connor wasn’t idiot enough to risk Piper’s safety and that of innocent bystanders to get it. He was content to let the authorities deal with the duke, knowing Rutledge was in the hands of true justice.
Albert surrendered his shotgun to one of the constables with a wobbly exhale. “Well, I wasn’t. Thank God your friends were on the morning train as you anticipated. Jenny would have had my balls on a platter if I’d gotten shot. She likes all my bits as they are.”
“Aye, so I’ve noticed.”
* * *
The muddling anxiety that had gripped Piper since they rounded the corner and came face-to-face with the duke and his henchmen dissipated like a morning fog. She exhaled slowly, a hitch of reluctant amusement breaking the sigh. Men.
Connor slipped his arm around her shoulder as they walked a ways down the street. She was glad to put some space between them and the duke. Rutledge continued to spew vile promises of vengeance at Piper, and threatened those laying hands on him that they would endure his eternal wrath, and that of the prince, for their insolence.
“Tell me, were ye meaning to do it?”
“Do what?”
“Miss? Or were ye actually going to shoot him?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. I wanted to.”
“As did I.”
She shrugged as if it were immaterial. “Does it matter? It’s finally over. You knew the authorities were coming?”
“Aye. As would ye, if ye’d paid attention to the plan,” he told her with a grin.
Temple had wired Cavendish, a lead authority with Scotland Yard, the previous day, Connor explained. Part of his plan to make good their escape and ensure it with Rutledge’s arrest. He’d left a message at the train station before Connor had caught up with him to be delivered the moment they arrived on the morning train.
She was mightily glad it had arrived on time and that they were on it as Temple requested. She could only hope Cavendish’s intervention would truly bring an end to her troubles.
“I somehow doubt the duke will ever face a judge or jury,” Piper said. “He was right about that. I
fear being labeled a kidnapper, a brutalizer of women, and a coward may not be enough to bring him down.
“Dinnae fret, lass. Between Temple and the humiliation he’s suffered, Rutledge will never see a day’s peace—”
“No! Stop him!”
They spun back to see Rutledge shove a distracted guard to the side and run toward them, a pistol clutched in his manacled hands. Terrified cries and commands to stop him reverberated through the street.
Eyes wild and a battle cry on his lips, the duke leveled the barrel. “You will pa—”
Connor shoved Piper behind him as one deafening report echoed by another split her ears. A murder of crows took flight from the cemetery across the street. Their squawks of alarm drifted into the distance as Rutledge fell to one knee, holding his chest. Piper focused beyond the smoking barrel of the pistol Connor had taken from her to the one Temple held. The soldier-turned-spy lifted his gaze to hers with a nod and re-cocked his gun as he approached the falling duke.
Bobbies swarmed Connor and Piper. It took a moment to realize they meant to shield them from another possible attack, not detain him for shooting Rutledge. Connor handed his weapon to their commander when Cavendish ordered them aside.
“Apologies, Cavendish.”
“No worries. Dozens of witnesses.” Cavendish whipped out his notebook and scribbled furiously. “Everyone here can testify that Rutledge shot first. I believe there should be no problems unless the duke’s royal friends choose to debate the finer points.”
“I’ll make sure there is scandal enough spread regarding his sins that they wouldn’t dare associate themselves,” Temple assured them all.
Piper stared dazedly at the duke who was being laid out by Cavendish’s men.
“Is he dead?”
“Looks that way,” Temple offered wryly.
Relief, true relief struck her then. “That’s truly it then. It’s over. Forever. At least, I pray it is.”
She couldn’t imagine anyone, even the duke’s despicable son, would protest or mourn Rutledge’s passing.
“Aye. It’s done, lass,” Connor assured her, then turned to Cavendish. “Are we free to go then?”
“Yes.” Cavendish nodded and gestured with his pencil. “You might want to get that looked at straightaway.”
“Get what looked at?” She blinked then blinked again at the tear and blood stain on his coat sleeve. “Are you hurt? Let me see.”
“’Tis naught but a scratch, lass.”
“Are you certain?”
Connor yanked his handkerchief from his pocket and pressed it against his bicep with a grimace. “Nay. On second thought, Death seeks to wield his sickle upon me as we speak.”
For a moment Piper feared he was serious until a shadow of a grin lifted the corner of his mouth.
“Oh!” She flung her arms around him with relief winning the war over exasperation. She buried her face in his neck. “You are not at all amusing!”
“But ye love me anyway,” he murmured against her ear as one strong arm slid around her.
Piper sniffed, but couldn’t help but admit it. “I do.”
With a nod to the others, Connor turned with her and resumed their walk up the street. “Are you truly all right? I’m not referring to your ‘scratch.’” She slipped her hand into his with a consoling squeeze as they walked away. “I never wanted it to come to this.”
“Nor did I,” he admitted. “What happened occurred in the defense of the lass who holds my heart. My conscience is clear.”
His whispered words vanquished her last vestiges of worry, not only for him but for the days ahead.
“Let’s go home, lass.”
“No. As I was saying, I believe you promised me a trip across the border, Mr. MacKintosh.” She smiled up at him and straightened his mangled tie. “I’ve a mind to see Scotland.”
* * *
Piper’s bonny smile left Connor shoogly in more than his Wellies. This time, when his heart flip-flopped, then galloped in his chest, it was for a far more pleasurable reason than moments before. Savoring the silky smoothness of her ivory skin, he traced the pad of his thumb along the gentle curve of her jaw and down the graceful line of her neck. Her clear blue eyes shone with happiness. “There’s nae need to elope, ye ken? We missed the train.”
“There will be another.”
Connor shook his head. “There’s nae need to wed at all, if it dinnae please ye.”
“And if it does please me?” Her hands slid up his chest and around his neck. “Don’t make me set Mrs. Davies on you.”
“Ah, my bonny lass, I want nae more than yer happiness. To see ye smile like this every morn and kiss these lips each night.” He ran a finger along her lush lower lip. “Ye deserve the best of men. Ye could do better than a mere farmer.”
“Either the rest of your brothers must be beyond extraordinary, or you simply can’t see what I, and everyone else at Dinton Grange, have come to know.” Piper shook her head. The light in her eyes never dimming. “What more could I want than the best man I’ve ever known? One who keeps me from digging too deep into a situation I cannot escape alone? Who gives me the confidence to face my woes instead of hiding from them? Who challenges me? Tempts me? Who protects me when there is nothing in it for him?”
“There was always something in it for me.” He carried her fingers to his lips, kissing the calloused tips. “Something…someone worth fighting for. Worth working for. Yer heart. Yer love.”
Her fingers curled around his and her eyes grew glassy with unshed tears. “I love you, Connor.”
A poignant ache pierced behind his ribs and radiated outward. “And I love ye, mo chridhe.”
Though he hated to bring an end to her smiles, Connor sacrificed this one for the sake of a kiss.
“Watch out! Stop him!”
“What the—?”
Fearing another unexpected attack, Connor jerked his head up with a curse and over his shoulder Piper saw a heavyset man yank a gun from one constable’s hand and down the street away from them.
“Don’t worry. It’s only Wilkes.” Piper followed his retreat with a glower. “Probably off to save his five hungry mouths.”
“What?” Connor frowned at her cryptic words.
“I’ll tell you about it later,” she assured him and guided his mouth back to hers. Covering her mouth with his, he guided her around the corner of the inn, out of sight of the inquisitive crowd, and pinned her against the building. Her unbound curves melded to his body as her lips parted beneath his with a tantalizing sigh.
A moment later, a throat cleared behind them. This time Connor’s attention was fully fixed on the bonny lass in his arms.
Another harrumph. “I hate to break up this tender moment…”
Connor held up a finger to pause Albert’s interruption and finished kissing his would-be bride. Lifting his head a full minute later, he grinned down at Piper then faced the beleaguered groom.
“Would ye be my best man, Albert?”
Albert gaped for a moment, then tapped the brim of his hat with a gratified smile. “If you’ll be mine, m’lord.”
“I’m no’ a lord!”
“You are to us.”
Epilogue
I have finally put the past behind me for good. I have but one last thing I must do before I can finally look forever forward without ever again looking back.
~ from the diary of Piper Brudenall, September 1895
Late September 1895
“Welcome home, Blossom.” Connor extended his arms and welcomed his sister’s exuberant embrace albeit with a hiss of pain as she launched herself out of the carriage before it had even come to a stop. “I guess I dinnae need ask how yer honeymoon was. Ye’re glowing.”
“I am, aren’t I?” She grinned up at him as she stepped back. “I beat Harry by eight strokes at the Pau Golf Club. Not that it was terribly difficult.”
A chuckle shook his chest. “I pray that wisnae the highlight of yer journey.”
&n
bsp; “I should hope not.” His brother-in-law laughed as he climbed down from the carriage to join them on the gravel drive. He shook Connor’s hand in greeting, then slipped an arm around his wife’s waist with a satisfied smile. “Granted, I can only hope.”
“Oh pish! He knows his talents lie in other areas.” Fiona slapped her husband’s arm playfully.
Connor cringed. “I dinnae need the details. Thank ye.”
His sister smacked his shoulder this time, then looped her arm through his as they turned toward the door where Archie stood at the ready. “And you? How was it?”
“Never fear. All has been accomplished wi’out a blemish to mar our family luster.”
“Of course it has,” she agreed with a dismissive flick of her wrist. “I knew all along you’d do a smashing job of it.”
Connor lifted an incredulous brow. “Really? Yer lack of enthusiasm prior to yer departure bespoke a different opinion of my abilities.”
“What an imagination you have. You know you always have my complete faith,” Fiona scoffed as they walked into the center hall. She tugged off her gloves and glanced back over her shoulder for her husband. “Harry, stop staring at those goats.”
Aylesbury obliged his wife and entered behind them. As he took off his hat, he frowned at Connor. “I thought we agreed no goats?”
“Did we?” Connor scratched his jaw. “My memory of our conversation ended wi’ my agreement no’ to reintroduce the subject. And so I hivnae. There is something else I’d like to talk about however…”
A Question for the Ages (Questions for a Highlander Book 7) Page 29
