The Rakehell Regency Romance Series Boxed Set 4 (The Rakehell Regency Romance Series Boxed Sets)

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The Rakehell Regency Romance Series Boxed Set 4 (The Rakehell Regency Romance Series Boxed Sets) Page 76

by Sorcha MacMurrough


  "Damn you, shut your filthy mouth," Alistair rasped, losing his normally mild temper, and shaking him by the collar of his coat.

  "The little slut was leading me on. They both were."

  "I said shut up!"

  "And much as I would like to have had her, I didn't succeed, now did I? The old tackle not quite what it was. So it's hardly rape when they were both willing parties."

  Althea raised up to her full height? "Willing? Then please explain the state of Patrice's mouth, the fact that Blake is unconscious in the carriage, and the bullet hole in the ceiling when I forced your pistol to go off."

  He made a dismissive gesture. "Pah. Do your worst, all of you. You might manage to put me in Newgate for a couple of months, but I think the authorities want to just sweep all this scandal under the carpet, don't you?

  "After all, a man in my position? It would hardly be worth it. Not when I would mean bringing disrepute upon the entire justice system for one measly pair of trollops."

  A bellow of rage such as Althea had never heard before came from behind her. She grabbed her husband's elbow, and Randall Avenel snatched Matthew around his waist as well.

  But the cloaked figure who flew at Witherspoon and raised its arm, plunging the knife down with all its might, was a woman's.

  Philip pleaded, "Patrice, no!"

  But it was already too late.

  The dagger pierced their assailant's heart in an instant. He barely had time to gasp his last breath, as eyes wide, he stared at the tiny lass in utter disbelief. His knees folded, and Witherspoon was dead before he even hit the ground.

  To their horror, Patrice kicked the corpse in the groin and spat. "Trollop, am I? All whores, are we? Well, you'll never harm any innocent girls like me again."

  She raised her eyes to her appalled audience. "Any of them. They won't get away with it, will they, Philip? Will they?"

  "No, lass," he said gently, already wiping the blood from her now nerveless fingers, shuddering as he did so. "They're all going to hang. Alistair will see to it that the case is watertight. So it really is all over now, and you're coming home with me."

  She blinked in confusion. "But what about jail--"

  "He fell on the knife trying to escape," Alistair said promptly, using one foot to flip the corpse over onto its face.

  "A fitting end to a debauched and degraded man. Now come, let's have a look at poor Blake, and get back to the inn."

  At last Thomas and Randall released Matthew's arms, and Althea was able to turn into the circle of her husband's warm embrace. He hugged her so hard, she was sure her ribs would crack, but it was the most welcome pain of her life.

  She steeled herself for the words of reproach she was sure were about to pour from him in a torrent, but there was nothing but silence. She hardly dared look at him, but he touched one finger to her chin to lift her gaze up to his gently.

  Matthew and Althea stared at each other for a heartbeat, and she threw her arms around his waist and wept.

  Matthew began to cry too, tears of joy as he realised that their nightmare truly was over at last.

  Chapter Thirty

  Much later, when everyone was in their rooms trying to rest after the cataclysmic events of the day, Matthew finally forced Althea to lie down.

  Along with Antony and Oliver, who arrived a short time after they had returned to The King's Arms, she had tended Blake and Patrice, and had refused to do more than fling her husband's coat over her torn chemise until she was certain they were all right.

  Now Matthew was her most tender nursemaid as he carefully removed the jacket and ragged chemise and gave her a sponge bath, gentling the soap and water over her.

  When he felt he could trust himself to speak without getting lividly angry all over again, he said, "You did a very brave, and very foolish thing, my love. I don't even want to think about what could have happened to you. Walking into the lion's den like that with all those men. What on earth were you and Philip thinking?"

  She sighed. "I knew we had to catch them redhanded if we ever had a hope of saving Patrice and bringing them to justice."

  "But still, to go in there like that-"

  "We needed to find her before it was too late. I never would have forgiven myself if she'd been raped or even killed because I held back out of fear or missishness."

  "It's not missishness, but decency. I don't know how you dared-"

  "I dared because I had your love, Matthew. I dared because I hated to think what would have happened to me without it. I didn't want that fate to befall Patrice."

  He gentled the sponge over her back, the one part of her she still felt awkward about him touching, given all that had happened to her. To his relief, she didn't stiffen up or act nervous.

  "It would have been fine if Witherspoon hadn't been in league with them all along. I'm only glad Alistair realised it in time."

  "He wasn't the only one who realised there was more going on than met the eye. I was going to pursue your step-brother to the ends of the earth when something he did gave me pause."

  She raised her brows in surprise. "What did he do?"

  "It wasn't something definite I could put my finger on. He looked like, like a man who was gloating. Like all his plans had come to fruition after all. He was almost triumphant."

  "Charles didn't get away, did he?"

  "No. I stopped, Thomas plunged on and caught him. He tried to set the house on fire, but the tinder was damp and Thomas felled him like an ox."

  "They planned for every contingency, didn't they?"

  "Aye, the brothel, your house. I think they knew it was only a matter of time before I would seek the truth about what had happened to you, and wanted to be ready for it."

  She held him close. "Aye, Witherspoon said he was leading you into a trap."

  "He may well have done. But Thomas got him, as much to halt him as to stop me killing him with my bare hands, which in the circumstances was a good thing."

  "Aye, I wouldn't want you to go on trial for murder." She nestled full-length against him.

  "Like Patrice."

  She frowned, but shook her head. "I don't think it will come to that. I'm sure Alistair will be as good as his word. Cover the whole thing up."

  "He's pretty incorruptible. But at this point the whole truth coming to light would do far more damage than just burying this quietly," he said with a sigh.

  "But Patrice will have to live the rest of her life with what she's done."

  Matthew shrugged. "I don't personally see why. She put down an animal. It would be no different from killing a rabid dog. That man was deranged."

  Althea nodded. "She's the fourteenth victim. He actually boasted about it."

  "And only fourteen years of age. It's disgusting."

  "And all too common, isn't it, if all the stories about the gentlemen's clubs and so-called boarding schools are to be believed." She shivered.

  He immediately began to reassure her. "I know I was a rake, my love, but I never-"

  "I know. You don't have to tell me," she soothed, stroking the dark hair back from his brow.

  "I don't know how I was ever so lucky as to deserve you. I promise you I shall spend the rest of my life thanking all the gods in the heavens for you."

  Althea shuddered at the word. "He said I was lucky thirteen in his satanic sacrifices, or whatever he wanted to call them."

  He caressed her cheek tenderly. "They were just his excuse for his perversions, I'm sure," he said, his tone evincing his disgust. "No need to be superstitious."

  "No, I won't be. We're safe now. And so is this village."

  "Aye, thanks to you."

  "With a great deal of help from Philip and the rest of the Rakehells," she pointed out.

  "But it was your idea to walk through the fire."

  "I would do it again in a minute," she said truthfully. "Anything to stop them once and for all. My only regret is that we'll never know what happened to all the other girls."

  "Did h
e say anything? Any clues?" Matthew asked softly.

  She shook her head. "Not enough to give the whole game away. I'm sorry to say, though, that I'm pretty sure they're all dead."

  He sighed heavily. "I hate to agree, but you're probably right. After all, what's the point of a blood sacrifice?"

  She sighed. "We'll know more when we get to London and search his house. Well, all their houses, but Witherspoon was the key. I'm sure he kept records, trinkets, some evidence that will at least let their poor families stop clinging to the forlorn hope that they'll see them again one day."

  Matthew nodded sadly. "Aye, it will be hard for them, but better to know the truth now and mourn them properly, than let them live a lie for the rest of their lives." Then he sat up abruptly. "We? Oh no! We are doing no such thing. We're heading home to Somerset. Alistair can take care of--" But even as he said the words, he saw the determined look on his wife's face.

  "I need to know," Althea said in a tone which brooked no refusal.

  "But, darling--"

  She rubbed his chest, settling him back into the bed beside her. "You do too. Admit it. A part of you can't believe there's such evil in the world. The other part of you is terrified to think that if you'd been anything less than a decent man, you might have ended up like him. Or have harmed me terribly that night in the brothel."

  "Oh, God," he sighed. "I feel so, so polluted. And if I feel like that, I can only imagine how you must feel."

  She shook her head. "We've done nothing wrong. I'm not a slut."

  "No."

  "Nor any of the other foul things he said about me."

  "No, of course not," he said, kissing her.

  "And you are nothing like him, Matthew! Look at me! You're nothing like him. You raked, it's true. But all the women went willingly to your bed, didn't they? You never bound or tortured them."

  "No, that's true. But it's no consolation when I yearn for you every second of the day." His hands on her face and hair were whisper-soft.

  She leaned into him with a sigh, and lay quietly for a time as he cherished her, but it was in an affectionate, not an overtly sexual way.

  "You just said you want me all the time, yet look how gentle and caring you're being. It isn't just passion, it's love. I don't want you to fear your desires, for they're mine too. I want to indulge in them until we're old and grey whenever we're able. There are going to be times in the future when I can't, starting at about seven months from now, but-"

  He stared and then kissed her hard, and shed a few tears of joy. "A baby? Truly?"

  "Yes."

  She was sure she had never seen him look so happy.

  But suddenly the thought struck him. "You came here with Philip even knowing this?" he asked angrily.

  She could sense his barely suppressed ire. "It's because I knew I was pregnant that I had to come. I didn't want to risk myself later on, when I was more advanced, or risk our child once it was born. Better to end it now, than face months and months of uncertainty. Have the baby be born and serve as a hostage to fortune."

  "Hostage to fortune? You're my wife now. No one would dare-"

  She shook her head. "I know you love me and would have tried to keep me safe, but I was caught in this web whether I wanted to be or not."

  "I don't understand. It's been months, since, well, London."

  "Witherspoon wouldn't have stopped, you know. He actually admitted that much to me," she admitted at last.

  Matthew stared at her in horrified disbelief.

  "Aye, it's true," she insisted, nodding. "He was planning to come after me in Somerset. He was having us watched all the time. He even knew I was pregnant. The things he said, Matthew, well, it was clear that he was completely obsessed, out of his mind with lust, and a lust for power."

  "Oh, Althea-"

  "He said he was going to kill you," she revealed, forcing herself to repeat some of his threats, the better to exorcise them from her mind. "He planned to leave me a widow, alone and defenseless. So he could try to be with me, I suppose. My feeling that I was being watched all the time, and not just by you, wasn't my imagination. I knew you had all the Rakehells keeping an eye on me, but there was just something too odd about it all."

  Matthew stared at her for a moment, then nodded. "Aye. That would certainly explain a few things I wondered about too, including how Matilda had such an uncanny knack for seemingly running into me at just the most opportune times."

  Althea shuddered. "Do you think she was in league with them all along against me?"

  He held her close as he considered the point. "Not at first, perhaps, but later, once we were married, aye. I have to say that her tastes rather inclined toward the extreme. She might not have known all about the sacrifices and so on, but she certainly would have been happy to work with anyone who was trying to split us up."

  "You see, I knew there had to be more to it than just wanting you for herself. It was only when we put up a united front against her at the ball that she knew she was wasting her time, and left. So darling, while I know you're angry with me, my intuition was telling me all along that the stakes were far higher than just our marriage, and another girl going missing in Enfield. I needed to protect you and our baby the only way I knew how."

  Matthew gazed at Althea for a time, and appeared to weigh her words carefully. Even though he most certainly did not approve of the risks she had taken, her protestations were enough to mollify him.

  "I understand. I don't condone what you did for a minute, and I don't necessarily forgive Philip for allowing you to take the risk. But I do understand."

  "I'm glad, for I'm only just beginning to myself. Witherspoon was a top barrister on the King's Bench, a clever man, who knew Alistair. So he must have known who Patrice was."

  Matthew was aghast. "You're saying they took her because he was fairly certain we would get involved?"

  "I can't be sure, but yes, the house being set to go on fire would have suggested that. They were all so smug, so sure of themselves."

  "So you walked right into a trap."

  She sighed heavily. "It looks that way. Well, they certainly overplayed their hand."

  "They were sure that with Witherspoon on their side, they would get away with all of it, with no one the wiser."

  "And drag a few Rakehells down in the process."

  "Aye, it looks that way," he said pensively. "But once again, we outwitted them."

  She gave a small smile. "Aye, even a mouse can turn on a cat and bite."

  "In this case, the smallest mouse turned the most deadly." He shook his head, still astounded at what Patrice had done.

  "So you see, darling, I really couldn't have done anything else--"

  "You could have waited for me, and we could have gone together to Surrey."

  Althea shook her head. "I'm sorry, darling, but time was of the essence. Philip was desperate to help Patrice, and I was eager for justice."

  "Well, all I can say is, thank the gods you both succeeded in your quests."

  "Amen to that."

  He stroked his hand down one shoulder. "So I don't want to argue any more about what you did or didn't do. I'm very proud of you, my brave little wife, even if I'm less than delighted with the lengths to which you went to get what you wanted.

  "But Enfield and Witherspoon are the past now. Alistair and Philip will mop up that mess, and make sure none of Witherspoon's false incriminating papers ever see the light of day. All of the coven will be punished to the full extent of the law, and all your property your father intended for you to have will be yours at last."

  "Poor Papa. They murdered him, you know," she said with a sniff. "Arsenic. He was in the way of their plans for me, and so they waited until I was having my season to get him at their mercy and, well-"

  "My poor love. You've lost so much, your father, your innocence-"

  "I know, and I still miss him so much. But I've gained so much too," she said, stroking his cheek. "A wonderful husband, an amazing life, and
the bliss only two people truly in love can share. A love that has been tested and found more than strong enough."

  "Like my incredible wife."

  "And a love all the more precious because we've almost lost it several times. Thanks to Blake and Eswara and our other close friends, and our own courage, we've built the most incredibly lovely temple of love out of some pretty disgusting mud."

 

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