Sherbrooke Twins tb-8

by Catherine Coulter

  Douglas looked at her with such contempt that she shouted, “I had to use the old man! There was no one else to give me entrée into this wretched house.”

  “You did it very well. Now, you are English. How could you be related to Georges Cadoudal?”

  “His wife, Janine, was my sister, well, halfsister, really. My mother was English, and I was raised in Surrey. She named me Marie because she believed that useless Frenchman who was my father would be pleased, perhaps leave his wife for her. I did not go to France until months before Janine died. I took care of Georges and the children.”

  “What is your name?”

  “Marie Flanders. My dear dolt of a mother dressed bonnets for all the wealthy ladies in Middle Clapton. A meager existence. She died far too soon, with nothing.”

  “Why do you wish to kill me, madam?”

  “I am going to kill you because you betrayed my sister. You raped her, made her with child, and left her.”

  Douglas rose slowly as he spoke, splayed his palms on his desk, leaned toward her. “You know that is nonsense, Annabe-Marie. Why do you really want me dead? Come now, the truth. After all, you’re going to kill me. What difference does it make?”

  She gave him a wonderfully warm smile. She leaned toward him, whispering, “No difference at all, my lord. You want the truth? It’s money, my lord, all your money, and your house, and your lovely title, once you are dead. Naturally one would wish to dress it up, claim a motive of pure vengeance, of righteous revenge, since it sounds so terribly tawdry and common to claim simple gain. Ah, I do believe she is here now. It is about time.” Marie turned her head just slightly. “Come in, my dear.”

  Judith McCrae slipped in through the door, and softly closed it.

  “I have checked, Aunt Marie. No one is in the house, other than some servants floating about. Everyone is out watching the horses mating. I should be there too, but now I won’t have to endure that disgusting display.” As she spoke, Douglas walked slowly around the side of his desk and stood against the bookshelves.

  “Hello, my lord. From the look on your face, I have a feeling that you are not altogether surprised.”

  Douglas took small steps toward the sofa, as if he was going to sit down. “No, I’m not surprised. I hoped I was wrong, for my son’s sake. No one had as yet brought in your name, but I knew I would have to. You wanted my son to give you entry to my house, just as your aunt did with Hollis, and you managed to snag him, something no young lady before has managed.”

  “It was not difficult. Jason is a man, my lord, just a man.”

  “And you sat in on all our meetings, learned of our thoughts and plans. My wife was ready to welcome you into the family. Do you know she told me she was blessed, to have two such fine daughters-in-law practically at the same time.”

  For the first time, Douglas saw the resemblance between daughter and father, or perhaps he simply wanted to see it. Those eyes of hers were cold and dark with rage and purpose. “I watched you slap Jason on the back, acknowledging that you knew he’d had his pleasure with me. I would have liked to stick a knife in your heart at that moment.”

  Marie Flanders said, her eyes on that closed door, “Damnation, I should have realized this sooner. His fine lordship here was baiting his trap last night. There is no more information that you’re waiting for in Eastbourne, is there?”

  Judith said, “It doesn’t matter. He’s a fool, as are his sons. There is no trap. You’re wrong, Aunt Marie.”

  “No, I’m not. Why do you think he kept inquiring about Lady Arbuckle? He was pushing us to act. And that note he sent me, telling me Hollis wouldn’t be here today. It was to lure me here, lure me into acting.”

  Judith shook her head. “You give him too much credit. Fact is, I didn’t really pay attention to what he said. I had to give Jason my attention or he would have wondered what was going on. Do you know, my lord, I really preferred James. But Corrie already had him by the collar.”

  Douglas never took his eyes off the two women. “James didn’t realize that until-well, that isn’t any of your business is it?”

  “No, and I don’t care. Aunt Marie, I’m bored. I wish to get this over with. I don’t wish to kill any of the servants. They’ve been quite kind to me, so we will do it here, now, and slip out through the gardens.”

  Douglas said slowly, “Both of you have much to answer for.”

  “If ever we answer, my lord, you will not be here to hear it.”

  Douglas called out, “James, Ollie, signal your men. Come in now.”

  But James didn’t come from his post behind the glass doors. Neither did Ollie Trunk.

  Jason walked slowly into the estate room, his arm at his side, a gun held loosely in his hand. “James is missing, Father.”

  Douglas looked at Judith. “Where is my son?”

  “Why, my lord, he’s with my dear brother.”

  JAMES FELT THE trickle of blood slide down his face. His head hurt from the blow, but his brain was clear. He could think, he could understand, and what he both saw and understood was a young man he’d never seen before, a young man who was tall and well-made, dark-haired and dark-eyed, and this young man wanted to kill him.

  James shook his head, started to get to his feet.

  The man said, “No, stay right where you are. Ah, I see you’ve got your wits together again.” He stood, walked to James, and stood over him. “Hello, brother. It’s such a pleasure to finally meet you face-to-face.”

  James looked up at him, saw the gun in his right hand leveled at his chest. “You’ve kept yourself hidden very well. You’re Georges Cadoudal’s son, aren’t you? We were right about that.”

  “Yes, he was my father, at least in name.”

  James understood a great deal in that moment, but it still didn’t make any sense. “You seem to believe that my father sired you. You weren’t terribly subtle what with using Douglas Sherbrooke as your name. What is your real name?”

  “Douglas Sherbrooke is quite real enough.”

  “How did you come to believe that you are my father’s son? How did you come to take his name?”

  “I assumed my rightful name when I came to England to kill you and that dishonorable bastard from whose seed I come. It seemed only just to take his name.”

  “What is your real name?”

  The young man shrugged, but never did he look away from James’s face and the gun aimed at James’s chest. “My father and all my friends in France called me Louis. Louis Cadoudal. My father died insane, did you know that?”

  James shook his head. “We knew he’d been assassinated.”

  “Yes, an assassin shot him, and all believed he died from that, but his brain had already rotted. There were only a few who knew it. He spoke of so many things in his mad deliriums, of how your father had raped my mother; but then he would frown, and say no, rape wasn’t involved at all. Of course those were simply words spun from his madness. But I realized the truth of it the moment I saw your father. Our father.

  “Don’t you think I look like him, brother? You and your damned twin, neither of you look like him, but I do. I am his firstborn son, not you, and I look like his son.”

  “No, you don’t,” James said calmly. “You’re lying to yourself. You are dark like him, and you are tall like him, nothing more.” James knew he had to stay in control, knew he had to be ready. “Let us agree that my father sired you, Louis-”

  “He did, damn you!”

  “Very well, if he is indeed your father, it makes no difference to the succession. I am the firstborn legitimate son, so I ask why do you want to kill me? It gains you nothing but the hangman’s noose.”

  “Ah, that a brother of mine could be so stupid. It will gain me everything. You see, my first goal was to kill your bastard of a father for what he did to my mother, but then I decided that if I killed him, it wasn’t enough. He’d robbed me of my rightful life. My aunt arranged for a document that shows marriage lines between our father and my mother, da
ted before he married your mother. All of it legal. I will be the earl of Northcliffe, wealthy beyond my wildest dreams, and it will be justice.”

  “No, it will be murder. My father didn’t rape your mother. He rescued her from a French general, a man who was giving her to his cronies. He brought her back to England for your father. It was a bargain he and Georges Cadoudal made. My father wasn’t ever involved with your mother.”

  “A fine tale that. Make my mother out to be a whore, to sleep with dozens of men.”

  “She was raped. Listen to me.”

  “No. I’ll wager both you and your brother lapped this up like cats, huh? But all of it is a lie. My father said-”

  “You already said that your father was mad, that he would say one thing, then retract it. It is true that he first believed my father had raped your mother, but when it was all sorted out, he admitted he’d been wrong, particularly when your own mother finally told him she didn’t know who had made her pregnant since so many men had raped her.”

  “You want me to believe that I am some unknown man’s spawn? You puking liar! Goddamn you. No one raped my mother but your damned father. Before she died, my mother told my aunt-her own sister-that it was the truth, told her that no one had raped her except for the earl of Northcliffe and that I was his son. God, I’m going to love killing you.”

  “This aunt of yours-she lied. Ah, let me guess her name. Is it Annabelle Trelawny?”

  Louis laughed. “Certainly she is my aunt, just as I am my father’s son. I will become the next earl of Northcliffe. I deserve it. It is just.” He raised the gun.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  J UDITH, NOT JUDITH. But he’d heard the damning words out of the women’s mouths-out of Judith’s mouth, all that exquisite detail, and he understood it, surely he did, but he couldn’t seem to bring it into his brain and make it real to him, all the way to his soul. That cold recitation out of her mouth, the small derringer pointing at his father’s chest, it brought him focus, it enraged him. They’d figured out that Annabelle Trelawny had been involved, but Judith? He looked at his father, realized in that moment that his father had come to suspect Judith as well, but he hadn’t said anything, even when the three of them had met the night before.

  She was standing no more than ten feet from his father. Why had his father come from behind his desk?

  He knew the answer, of course. He expected James and Ollie to be hiding behind those draperies covering the glass doors onto the gardens, not him.

  “Do come in, Jason,” Marie said. “No, I can’t tell you and your brother apart, but since my nephew has James, then you must be Jason. Do drop your gun, my boy, else I’ll put a bullet through your father’s chest. My precious Louis managed to cosh James on the head and drag him behind the stables. He is very likely dead now.”

  “No,” Jason said. “My brother isn’t dead.”

  Judith looked at him, but didn’t move the gun from his father’s chest. “Is this some sort of twin communication?”

  “I don’t know, but he’s alive.”

  “It won’t be long. My brother is stronger than any man I’ve ever seen. He’s been waiting for this day. He’s ready,” Judith said, then she smiled. “I wish to thank you for inviting me here to get to know your family, Jason. The truth is that I never wanted to come here; I only wanted to kill your father and be gone, but there were always people with him.” She turned to Douglas. “Even here, in your own home, your wretched wife never left your side, until now. Oh, I see now. Your precious wife isn’t part of your trap. Is Corrie part of it or just the three of you? Ah, yes, the men to do the bad business, leave the little females in a closet where they can have hysterics in private.

  “Well, I’m not a weak, hysterical female, my lord. I demanded to be the one to remove you from this earth, even though my brother wanted the pleasure of it. Ah, Jason, do I see you considering perhaps throwing yourself at me? If you lift so much as a hand, I will shoot your father. Did I surprise you, Jason, when you awoke with me kissing you?”

  “You know you did.”

  “I had thought you would come to me, but that old crone, Lady Arbuckle, told me that you would never sleep with a woman who wasn’t your wife while under your father’s roof. The witch told me that if I had an ounce of breeding, I would know that.”

  “No, I wouldn’t have come to you.”

  “Do you want to know why I came to your bedchamber?”

  “I was fool enough to believe that you cared for me.”

  “Poor boy, did you really believe that? It was originally James I wanted, but Corrie was already in the picture, and I didn’t want to kill her. I believed I had you, but then Lady Arbuckle-that ridiculous vain old bat-told me that you were wild, not as honorable as your brother, and were known to keep a mistress. She told me you flirted with young ladies, made them fall in love with you, made them believe that it was marriage you had in mind, then walked away. It wasn’t going to happen to me.

  “And that’s why I came to your bedchamber at midnight. I knew that if you took my virginity you would feel honor-bound to offer marriage, and so I would win. We were under your precious father’s roof, now weren’t we? A young gentleman, no matter his true nature, couldn’t get away with seducing a virgin without marriage, now could he? And that would mean that I could stay here as long as I needed to with no one wondering about it.”

  Jason said to the girl whose lovely wicked eyes were now cold as the ice floes in the North Sea, “I loved you, Judith, and I was ready to ask you to marry me. What Lady Arbuckle told you wasn’t the truth. Why do you think she said that about me?”

  Judith laughed. “I have no doubt at all now that the old bitch told me that in an effort to protect you; she doubtless hoped that I would give up trying to attach you since you were such a flighty scoundrel, and that would mean that I couldn’t use you. And so I did what I had to do. I will admit that it was no hardship. I believe I shall have to punish Lady Arbuckle for her pathetic attempt at betrayal. You’re every bit as honorable as your brother, aren’t you?”

  “Judith, my love, let’s end it.”

  Douglas said, drawing away her attention, “You want me to believe that your brother is planning to kill my son?”

  “Oh yes,” Marie said. “As Judith told you, he’s ready. My dear, I told his lordship why I was doing this, that you and I have maintained the fiction for Louis, poor boy, such a romantic he’s always been, wanting revenge and justice for his dead mother, believing implicitly that it was only right and for him to be the next earl of Northcliffe.”

  “Yes,” Judith said. “I even told him it wouldn’t be healthy for his soul if he killed his own father. He believed me.”

  Douglas had stepped a bit farther away from Jason. “Is Louis such a fool that he actually believes this lie you’ve told him?”

  “He’s not a fool, damn you! The truth is that I wanted to kill you. Now, I am really tired of all this. Jason, you weren’t to be involved. I am sorry about that, but it will make things easier for Louis when he comes back to claim his title.”

  Jason said, his voice low and vicious, “You lie to yourselves, both of you. England will fall into the sea before Louis Cadoudal becomes the earl of Northcliffe.”

  “Oh, it will happen, Jason. It will happen.” Marie was smiling as she raised the derringer.

  Douglas said quickly, “Why did you foist this charade upon two innocent children, Marie? You wanted what wasn’t yours, you were bitter because you were a bastard, your mother was poor. You saw your chance, and you took it.”

  “How very smart you think yourself, my lord. When I found out how Janine had been involved with you, when she finally told me how she’d lied to Georges, it was then that I started thinking what could come of it. Only a fool doesn’t take a risk when there is such a huge gain.”

  Douglas looked again at Judith. “She has made you want to be a murderess. You can still stop this madness, Judith.”

  “I am sorry to say, m
y lord, that I agreed immediately when she presented her plans to me. Am I bad? Oh yes, I think so.”

  Her smile was so very lovely, her eyes filled with intelligence and beauty and cleverness. But there was so much more. Jason saw clearly now, saw the darkness in her, and beyond that, nothing more.

  Judith smiled at him, a smile filled with such disregard he felt it to his soul. “I never could tell you apart, not like Corrie, who can tell which one you are from your shadow. Now don’t move. I’m an excellent shot, as is my aunt. Your plan might have worked if James had been here, and that silly little Bow Street Runner.”

  Jason met his father’s eyes, and nodded, nothing more.

  Douglas said slowly, “So Lady Arbuckle is another victim?”

  “Well, she certainly isn’t my real aunt. Just look at that face of hers, the ugly old cow. To gain her cooperation, my brother and two of his friends took over their country home, Lindsay Hall, in St. Ives. She was to introduce me to London society, and I would meet you. In exchange, her husband would live. A fair trade, don’t you think?”

  “And is Lord Arbuckle alive?”

  “I don’t know,” she said.

  Douglas said to Judith even as he moved another couple of inches away from Jason, “You ordered Lady Arbuckle to keep away from the family, didn’t you? And that’s why she’s kept to her bedchamber.”

  “Yes, my lord. I no longer needed her. I had my real aunt here, already completely accepted in your precious household. Annabelle Trelawny-what a stupid name, but one she believed Hollis would find romantic, and he did, that pathetic old man.”

  “He’s not all that pathetic, Judith,” Marie said. “He still has most of his teeth. Almost as many as I have.”

  Judith laughed, a contemptuous laugh that turned all of Jason’s raw pain and soul-numbing fear to rage. He felt another bolt of anger for Hollis, a man so honorable and good, his soul shined through his eyes.

  Jason wanted to leap on her, put his hands around her neck and squeeze the life out of her, but his father grabbed his arm and steadied him.