Amanda L.V. Shalaby

by Rhianna

  Suddenly, Rhianna appeared at left. The frenzy broke as each caught sight of her, but the break was momentary. Desmond recovered the quickest, forcing Thayne’s sword, while still in hand, to the ground, and caught him with a left hook blow to the face.

  “She is a pretty little whore,” Desmond taunted.

  The strike had little effect and Thayne was quickly recovered. The words, however, had more of an impact. He shoved Desmond back and his sword was pointed toward him once more.

  • • •

  Rhianna thought little of leaving Weathersby and Mauvreen at the edge of the woods. Her heart would not allow her to be separated from Thayne, knowing to what he had agreed. Despite knowing there was nothing she could do to help, waiting and wondering at Ravensleigh was no option to her.

  Little did she know how very helpless she was, as Lydia’s pistol pointed directly toward her.

  “Miss Braden.”

  Rhianna’s stomach sank at the sound of her voice and, though she did not need to turn to know to whom it belonged, she met Lydia’s gaze.

  “I knew there was something about you the moment you arrived,” Lydia told her, disdainfully. “At first, I thought you were my husband’s mistress — I even had you followed for a time — but instead you are worse! A bastard, long-lost daughter! I wonder, did you imagine you could swoop in at the last moment and steal the fortunes from his rightful and lawful family?”

  “Lord Kingsley would not be facing his last moment had it not been for you,” Rhianna said. “But you didn’t really want it to come to that, did you? Somewhere in that black heart of yours, you care for him.”

  “Seems he is not the only one facing his last moment now, doesn’t it? Although, this time around I have more reason to have you dead than before.”

  “Before?” Rhianna repeated.

  “Oh, I was more than willing to see you suffer a tragic riding accident after I discovered you were in possession of the benefice. But Wyndgate — ”

  “What are you saying?”

  Lydia sneered at her. “Oh, I suppose I shouldn’t say ‘accident’. Horses are not generally fond of being shot with a dart. My Pierson may have a knack for using a blowgun, but seeing as how that was unsuccessful, Desmond is far more skilled with a sword. Perhaps I’ll let him show you just how very skilled he is when he has finished with Lord Brighton.”

  “Pierson used a blowgun on my horse?” Rhianna cried.

  “And to think there was no evidence whatsoever after Desmond removed the dart. It would have been a very simple, unsuspecting death, had you not walked away from it.”

  “Why did you not try again?” Rhianna asked, hoping that in keeping Lydia talking she might find an escape.

  “Desmond wanted you for himself, to put it simply.”

  Now, she had heard enough. “Even if you succeed in killing all of us,” Rhianna told her, “your Pierson has been captured and is off to prison for attempted murder. No inheritance of Lord Kingsley’s will release him.”

  Lydia’s nostrils flared and her bloodshot eyes widened. “Liar!”

  “I am not.”

  Thorngate, who had not been at an angle to see them, now heard Lydia’s voice. He stepped forward, his pistol aimed at Lydia.

  “Drop your pistol, Lady Kingsley!”

  Addressing Thorngate and Thayne, Lydia demanded, “Drop your weapons or I will shoot her!”

  Thorngate hesitated. Thayne and Desmond stood very close together, their bodies almost one in the dim light. Their struggle appeared motionless, as it in fact was.

  Thayne stepped away from Desmond, pulling his sword from where he had pierced his chest. Desmond fell to the ground.

  “Desmond!”

  Lydia ran wildly toward him, her pistol firing a single shot before she dropped it to the ground. Clutching his upper arm where the bullet had grazed it, Thayne backed away as Lydia threw herself over her son’s body.

  Rhianna raced to Thayne’s side, quickly tearing off a piece of her skirt and tying it tightly around his wounded arm. Thorngate advanced, his pistol pointed toward Lydia.

  The latter shook visibly as she examined Desmond. Allowed a moment, Lydia was rapidly assured of Desmond’s death and she turned first to Thayne. Then, Lydia’s eyes met Rhianna’s. They were as lifeless as the man who lay beneath her. The exchange was silent, but the evil emitting from Lydia was terrifying.

  “Lydia Kingsley,” said Thorngate, “please rise. You are hereby arrested for the attempted murders of Guilford Kingsley, Thayne Brighton, and Rhianna Braden.”

  Lydia’s eyes last turned to Thorngate.

  Expressionless.

  Dead.

  She rose slowly. At last, fully erect, Thorngate approached her, but she stepped back. When he started toward her again, she took another few steps back. She raised her hand at him, urging him to keep his distance. Thorngate waited, his pistol still aimed. All eyes watched as Lydia continued to back slowly toward the cliffs.

  Her intentions at once obvious, Thayne ran toward her, his cry cutting through the evening air. “Lydia, no!”

  He was followed quickly by Thorngate, but neither was in time.

  Lydia jumped.

  Rhianna screamed, but she heard the cry as if it came from someone else. Then, she recognized her scream as combined with Lydia’s. She clutched her chest with terror as Thayne and Thorngate fell on the ground, their arms outstretched over the ledge, grasping for Lydia Kingsley.

  When Rhianna’s voice silenced, there was no echo of it. All that could be heard were the wind and the waves.

  Numbness set in. Even as Thayne’s fingers tangled through her hair and his uninjured arm embraced her, she felt nothing. Pressing her head to his chest, Thayne shielded her from the sight of Desmond’s body. And there, in the blackness, her face hidden against Thayne’s breast, Rhianna kept her eyes tightly shut, gasping for air that would satisfy her lungs.

  • • •

  The blood that soaked through the arm of Brighton’s white shirt caught Lord Kingsley’s eye as Thayne and Rhianna entered his bedroom. Mauvreen, who had insisted that Weathersby take her to Kingsley Manor after Rhianna left, sat next to him, a basin of water beside her as she pressed a wet cloth to his forehead. Guilford had not rested since Thayne departed Kingsley Manor. Word reached him quickly as to where the night had led, and Desmond’s request for a duel. Any and all hopes of keeping the concluding events from him for the night were dashed.

  “Oh, my dear child!” Mauvreen laid down the cloth and ran to embrace Rhianna, as if she were truly her own child.

  Rhianna, using her last ounce of energy to bring Mauvreen into her arms, pressed her body tightly against her own.

  “We are well,” Rhianna managed, answering the question that was foremost in the minds of all.

  Weathersby sighed with relief; Mauvreen wiped away tears. Dr. Logan attempted to remove Rhianna’s makeshift bandage from Thayne’s upper arm, anxious to see the damage himself.

  Lord Kingsley, his breathing slow and steady, but deep, and his manner bracing, patiently awaited the answers to his other questions. After Thayne appealed for the doctor to wait outside, he and Rhianna both made their way to Lord Kingsley’s bedside, she on his left and he on his right. His suspicions were evident; Rhianna preferred to imagine him prepared for news of Desmond’s death. Thayne’s eyes confirmed thus and a deeper breath followed, as Lord Kingsley’s head fell against his pillow.

  “Did you kill him quickly?” he asked Thayne.

  “I did,” he said, his voice feeling, yet final.

  Guilford nodded, his eyes low, accepting. When they rose again, he knew there was more.

  “Lydia appeared,” Thayne proceeded.

  Lord Kingsley was at once alert. He clearly did not anticipate this.

  “It was nearly that very moment,” Thayne continued. “She had discovered your will and aimed her pistol at Rhianna — ”

  “Lord Kingsley,” Rhianna interrupted, seeing this was too long a recount for
him, “she jumped from the cliffs. Lord Brighton and Lord Thorngate tried to stop her. They fell to their breasts on the ground to reach out for her, but she was too quick.”

  She took his hand in her own and his fingers closed around hers. Visibly shocked, he hardly flinched as Mauvreen approached and again applied the cold cloth to his neck and forehead.

  “I’m so very sorry,” Rhianna expressed.

  Silence overtook the room as Lord Kingsley contemplated this report. Some minutes went by as Rhianna watched him struggle to come to terms with the deaths of Lydia and Desmond who, no matter how wicked, were still his wife of thirty years and the boy he raised from birth.

  “Let us discuss details at another time,” he said at last, taking Rhianna’s face in his hand. “My girls are safe. That is all that matters to me now.”

  Thorngate entered. Seeing the news had been given, he removed his hat and quickly offered his condolences.

  “Lord Kingsley, I understand the doctor expects your health will improve,” Thorngate remarked hopefully.

  “There is no reason to suspect otherwise,” Lord Kingsley verified. “It will be a long road, undoubtedly, but in some months’ time, I expect to be back to my old self.”

  “Throwing dinners and balls,” Mauvreen positively assured him.

  “Preferably,” Guilford replied, “a wedding.”

  Epilogue

  Dearest Countess Soleil Deveraux,

  It seems but yesterday that we were children together, mere acquaintances at Madame Chandelle’s — how different things are! We are grown and you are a married woman. I admit that I envy you tremendously. Thayne and I still have some weeks to go. I know I have said it before, but I must say it again — I am so sorry I could not be there for your ceremony. I appreciate your understanding I could not leave Audra at such a time.

  Happily, I can report that Lord Kingsley’s health is vastly improved and he has only this morning told me he will allow Audra to join us on our trip to France. Audra was beside herself with delight at news of said permission, and I shall be delighted to have her with me, as well. I think it shall be an excellent distraction for her, although she is doing very well, considering her loss. Mauvreen, my childhood neighbor, as you know, has been a great source of comfort to her and will prove to be an excellent governess, I am sure of it. Since she moved into the manor they have gotten along famously, and as I prepare to move to Ravensleigh it relieves me to see Audra will be in such good hands. Of course, Lord Crispin Brighton has also been an infinite source of comfort to her, but that is something else entirely. I will save my stories there for when I see you.

  Give all my love to your family. I am particularly glad to hear that Philippe is well. The moment I walk down the aisle I shall be at your side.

  I remain & co,

  Rhianna

  “Come along, now, you’ve been at that letter all morning. Is it too much for an old woman to ask for you to try on your gown for its final fitting?”

  Rhianna smiled at Mauvreen as she sealed up her letter, the blue-and-gold drawing room never before seeming so peaceful in all her days at Kingsley Manor. Audra drew quietly near the open window that overlooked the front approach and the spring air carried the tunes of baby sparrows in their nest above. The house was still and undisturbed by the evil that had plagued it for so many years.

  “Lord Kingsley will be here any moment,” Rhianna reminded her. “When I return, I promise.”

  “I just love to see it on you,” Mauvreen returned, wistfully. “It’s like seeing it on your mother all over again.”

  Rhianna’s smile widened as she recalled the gown Hallie wore in the portrait Rhianna first saw in the lodge as a little girl — a portrait now kept safely beside her bed. Coincidentally, it was the same gown Rhianna would wear on her wedding day, accented by her mother’s brooch.

  “I didn’t know you knew her mother, Miss Mauvreen,” Audra interjected innocently.

  “Oh yes,” Mauvreen affirmed. “I used to be her governess when she was little like you.”

  Audra smiled. “I imagine she liked you, as I do. After all, if I can’t have Miss Braden forever, I suppose you’ll do very well as my governess.”

  “I have no doubt that she will,” Rhianna declared. “And I hope you will both be at Ravensleigh every day.”

  “Of course!” Audra decreed. “After we return from France!”

  Audra’s enchantment with the prospect of seeing something beyond Thornton, England came through in her voice. The words danced from her lips and rang through the air like a bell.

  A servant announced Lord Kingsley, and he entered.

  He greeted all, adding, “My apologies, Miss Braden, for the delay. I just received a letter from a Mr. James Middleton whom I think would be an excellent curate for the Thornton Church.”

  “Indeed!”

  “Mr. Middleton has been in need of a parish since the owner’s son of his previous post was ordained. He comes very highly recommended and, not only, but his wife is originally from Thornton. Miss Braden, I would imagine you knew her. She used to live across the street from the church.”

  “Brenna?” Rhianna cried. “We lost touch so many years ago.”

  “Well, if you approve, Mr. and Mrs. Middleton are available to move in a month’s time.”

  “Yes! I could imagine nothing better,” Rhianna agreed.

  “So it is settled. Good! We can finalize the paperwork this afternoon. When you return from France, you and all the Brighton family must come to Kingsley Manor to join us in having dinner with them.”

  Audra squealed with delight at the idea of new friends, paired with the mention of France and dinner with the Brightons.

  Raising the cloak that was folded over his arm, Lord Kingsley asked, “So, shall we?”

  “We shall.”

  “Where are you going?” Audra asked, as Rhianna followed Lord Kingsley to the door.

  Maureen interposed. “Now, now, Miss Kingsley, mind your business. Don’t you think they would have invited you if they could have brought you along?”

  “We won’t be long,” Rhianna promised.

  Audra nodded submissively and watched through the window as Rhianna and Guilford each mounted a horse and rode down the approach.

  • • •

  She had stood before Hallie’s grave before, but now it was different. It was no longer the mysterious grave of an unknown woman, entreating the curiosity of her young mind to discover the secrets of a life gone by. No, rather, it was the grave of her mother, and she knelt before it a daughter, her father beside her. There, the three of them remained silently in each other’s presence, their little family together in the only way possible.

  The forest was quiet but for the shovel that struck the earth above Hallie’s final resting place. Using the blackened tool from the remains of the lodge, Guilford dug a hole before the tombstone. Then, with several bare root roses from her satchel in hand, Rhianna placed them into the ground and covered them with the surrounding soil. The original garden may have burned to nothing in the fire that led to the cabin’s ultimate collapse, but Rhianna and Guilford hoped to see it back to its original splendor in a few seasons’ time.

  The trees around them seemed, as always, to watch and to whisper. Rhianna felt them pleased, as Hallie would have been, to see her and Guilford together. And despite his grievous sickness, brought on by Lydia’s greed and desperation, both knew that, without it, this moment would not be possible.

  As she looked out over what remained of the lodge, Rhianna considered the possibility of moving Hallie to the churchyard. Over twenty years she had been buried in the woods; certainly, there would be no scandal in having her in the churchyard now. But turning to Lord Kingsley to suggest it, she bit her lip. Seeing the way he was curved low to the earth, his cloaked back arched, his grey head bent forward, his eyes as sad as they were those twenty years back, she realized Guilford could not grieve the way he needed to in the open, Thornton graveyard. Not only,
but in such a circumstance there would be no visiting Hallie together, for the world could never know of their relationship as father and daughter. The notion of moving Hallie faded almost as quickly as it appeared.

  These few moments’ of silent reflection passed until, dusting as much of the dirt from her hands as possible, Rhianna took one of Guilford’s hands in her own. She smiled faintly at him, presenting him with his top hat. She was happy to see him smile in return as he received it and they rose to their feet. The expression told her what she had been hoping all along: that in a relationship with a daughter the world denied, Guilford Kingsley was at peace with the small amount of harmony that life had offered him.

  • • •

  The night before the wedding, the Brightons arrived at Kingsley Manor. It was there they would stay, before traveling together to Thornton Church for the morning ceremony. Quickly, they shuffled, one after another, into the Kingsley drawing room, excitement billowing in the air. Smiles were wide and appeared quite permanent, and there was not one who seemed willing to attempt a removal. The occasion was altogether too cheerful; the smiles would remain into the days ahead.

  Only Thayne and Rhianna stayed behind. Slipping from the crowd before ever he entered, Thayne met Rhianna on the portico of Kingsley Manor.

  “I wonder how long before they realize we are gone,” Rhianna smirked.

  “Much too quickly,” Thayne assured her, raising the back of her hand to his lips.

  “You are quite the gentleman tonight.”

  Thayne grinned mischievously. “Tomorrow I shall not be so content to kiss your hand.”

  He leaned in to kiss her properly, but movement in the window of the drawing room captured her eye and twisted her neck. Turning to the object of her attention, Thayne shook his head at the sight of Crispin and Audra as they twirled and spun, no doubt to the tune of a song only they could hear, laughing in a swell of infatuation.