by Cheryl Howe
“I’m sacrificing everything.”
“I would not stand in the way between you and Robert. In fact, I encourage the relationship. I’ll question no child you bear. Not even if it’s a boy.” Darien said the last on a bright note though he was sure she could glimpse the agony in his eyes.
“How convenient that you two are already blood relatives.” Her sneer proved she didn’t intend to mimic his false enthusiasm for a miserable turn of events. “Family gatherings will be so enjoyable. Would you please pardon me, Lord Blackmore? I find I’m unwell.”
She stood abruptly.
What the hell did he do? What other husband would be so accommodating? She could have Robert, but he would likely lose Ivy forever this time. He did not move out of her way, but blocked her path. “You never answered my question. About Melody?”
“Of course, I shall claim Melody as my own. Love her as my own,” Arianna said fiercely. “For Robert. Because he asked me to and he’s too weak for me to argue with at the moment.” Arianna’s voice broke and she struggled to contain herself. “And for Ivy. Not for you.” She turned on her heels and sprinted down the hall. Her feet thudded on the wooden steps, echoing through the cavernous mansion. How many times would he be hearing that in the next few decades?
“Thank you very, very much, brother.” Darien stomped down the hall in the other direction, allowing himself to give in to a good fury. He found the servant’s stairs and took them two at a time. The door of his father’s study loomed before him in record time. He burst through the door and went directly for the decanters lining the side table.
Darien spotted the bottle he’d sampled from before and poured a healthy splash into an etched crystal glass. He tossed back the liquid, not the least bit relieved by the burn in the back of his throat. The glass in his hand felt thick and awkward. He studied the crystal. The initials PFB were clearly engraved on the front in bold letters. His father had kept Philip’s glasses.
“I hope this doesn’t mean you’re going to stop behaving.” Lily strode toward him.
Darien blinked, not aware she had even entered the room. He held the half-full decanter in one hand, the glass in the other. “Why did he do it, Lily? That wasn’t Philip, was it?”
“He always preferred the company of men, Darien.”
“No. Not that.” He poured a gurgling amount into the glass and drank a huge gulp that watered his eyes. “Hang himself.” It was both a relief and a horror to say it out loud.
His sister put her arms around Darien. “I don’t know. I’m not sure we will ever know. But I am so proud of you. And I think he would be, too.”
Darien gulped the rest of the liquid. “I would rather him be bloody well furious with me and standing here with us now.”
“It doesn’t do any good thinking of what can’t be. Don’t drink too much of that. Please, Darien. This situation is difficult for everyone.”
He poured more drink. “I must be difficult on occasion.”
“Think of Melody.”
Darien did, took a smaller sip and set down the glass. He needed to find Ivy but he waited a moment for his sister to leave.
She hesitated. “Don’t trouble Robert further. He needs his rest.”
“Then I’ll write him a note. I must tell him I’m sorry if nothing else.”
“He insists on doing the ceremony. Some bargain he’d made with Arianna.”
Darien shook his head and walked over to the desk in the corner. “Than I shall do my best to dissuade him.”
He sat down, pretending to search for pen and paper.
“I’m off to father’s bedside. I’ll send for you if there is a drastic change.”
“Ivy is there with Melody. Be kind to the mother of my child and don’t speak of taking our daughter from either of us.”
He could tell Lily wanted to say more but then realized now was not the best time. She bowed her head and curtsied. To him. His sister was trained well. Darien would have never bowed to Philip, and his brother never would have wanted him to.
His sister slipped into his father’s adjoining bedroom. Darien wasted no time getting to his real purpose. He pulled Philip’s letter from his pocket.
Dearest Darien,
It pains me to have to bid you a final farewell in the cold formality of a letter. I know you insist that you are unfit for polite society, which is exactly why you shall make such a smashing earl. In time, I hope you will come to appreciate that the burden I am laying upon your shoulders will be worth the sacrifices you will invariably be forced to make. But you shall have your beloved Ivy by your side, and I’ve witnessed the pleasure she brings to your life.
Darien tossed the letter to the desk instead of ripping it in half. Damn you, Philip. Did he not consider what the loss of his only brother would do to him? Would he have changed his mind if he’d known that his rash decision would tear Ivy along with every ounce of pleasure from his life? Darien carefully picked up the letter, knowing nothing written there would ever satisfactorily answer his questions. But, by God, he would read every word of his brother’s last message.
You have no idea how I secretly coveted your closeness, convinced as I was that I could never share that type of bond with my betrothed. I have harbored a secret life for far too long. But to my surprise, delight and sheer dismay, I have been forced into the light by love. The absolute inappropriateness of the match has done nothing to dissuade me of my conviction. To that end, I am willing to give up everything, my life, my family, my very identity. But there is one thing that I absolutely cannot give up, and that is my beloved. There are those that will slander us, condemn us in the most brutal terms. We have both been threatened, as you will no doubt hear in lurid detail. His name is Collin Jacobson, a horse breeder from Scotland.
Please don’t feign shock, my dearest little brother. I expected as much from our father, but not from you. I will post this letter when we have crossed the border into Scotland. There is no use in coming after me, Darien. No doubt Father has already concocted the story of my demise and now must face his horror at having you as his heir. Maddox will be a bother, but I know something he’d rather not reveal, so don’t let him intimidate you, as if that were possible.
Border of Scotland? Darien jumped to his feet. For one dizzying moment he dared to believe his brother was alive and living the life of a horse breeder in the wilds of Scotland. But Jacobson was here and claiming Philip murdered. Darien skimmed the note once more. He was not reading a suicide note. Philip sounded entirely too happy. Someone was lying and he had a gut feeling who.
I shall be in contact again when the dust has settled. I have always been able to count on your discretion in personal matters, if nothing else.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Darien swung open his father’s bedroom door only to find a musket aimed in his direction. Maddox directed pure hatred down the barrel, no doubt longing to pull the trigger. Abruptly, he retrained the weapon at Collin Jacobson who sat hunched in a chair against the far wall. Darien met Ivy’s frightened gaze. She was cradling Melody and sitting on his father’s bed. Dear God, she must be terrified to be so close to his father.
His excitement of discovering his brother had not taken his own life turned to cold fear. Henry Maddox was not only a cold-blooded killer but one who could cover his tracks well.
“What’s going on here?” Darien asked his sister, who now stood between Maddox and her father’s bed.
“Mr. Maddox wants to shoot an unarmed man.”
“He shot your son, Mrs. Fitzgerald,” Maddox said. “I would think you would want justice to be served.” Maddox kept his gaze trained on Jacobson’s bowed head.
Collin Jacobson’s fears had been correct. Maddox would kill him on his first opportunity.
“And we should indeed take this matter to the local magistrate. We have witnesses who will be glad to provide evidence to a Grand Jury. Let the law deal with him. My father is not well.” Lily turned back to the bed. Darien noticed for the
first time his father remained unconscious despite their raised voices.
Darien strode to the bed.
“No, you don’t. I don’t want you at my back. Over here, Blackmore.” Maddox’s words held threat and an all too satisfied edge.
Darien slowly turned. “Point that weapon at me again and you better be willing to use it.”
“I’d love nothing more.”
For a moment, Darien thought Maddox would toss out reason and pull the trigger. Instead, he proved he was truly desperate and veered the weapon toward Ivy and Melody.
Darien slowly walked toward Maddox. “Do you even know how to shoot, Maddox? If you fire in the direction you are aiming, you will be dead before you have the chance to reload.”
Maddox blinked and turned the weapon back to Jacobson. For the first time in their acquaintance, Maddox seemed unsure of himself.
“See here, Blackmore. For our own best interests, we must dispose of this fiend without complications. You don’t want him to reveal the truth about Philip’s death. You are willing to sacrifice”—Maddox cut his gaze to Ivy—“her for the sake of the earldom. Why not this scoundrel?”
Darien grabbed Lily’s arm and tried to move her aside, but she wouldn’t budge. A musket fired in such short range could spray debris for several feet. “Dear sister, please see to our father. He appears worse than when I left.”
Lily nodded but gave him a warning glare and went to their father’s bedside, though she kept her gaze trained on Maddox.
“I never thought I would see this day, but for once, we agree.” Darien shoved his hands in his pockets to keep from clenching his fists. “There is a remote moor east of the estate which I think will be well suited for the deed. In the interest of our good name, I must insist that we shoot Jacobson outside the grounds. I’ll accompany you and even do the business myself. I believe I already mentioned that I’m an excellent shot.”
Maddox studied Darien suspiciously, loosening his grip on the weapon. Darien’s instinct urged him to lunge for Maddox but he didn’t dare until he removed him and the weapon from the confines of the bedroom.
Jacobson lifted his head and his bleary eyes revealed that he had finally been told the truth about Philip’s death. Apparently, he hadn’t taken the news any better than Darien. That none of the ugly slander had been true enraged Darien all over again. Maddox was the one Darien intended to shoot.
“I would never say anything to discredit Philip. Nothing at all. I swear I would not mention our relationship. I’m sorry about shooting your nephew, Darien. If I had known Philip had…” Jacobson pressed his hand over his mouth as if he could not bear to say the words.
“He let Mr. Maddox take the weapon from him after we told him that Philip hung himself,” said Lily, who had come to stand at the bedpost closest to them.
Damn her. Why didn’t she just stay out of the way?
“I deeply regret my actions, and am willing to accept whatever punishment you see fit, Lord Blackmore.” Collin Jacobson’s voice was hoarse and his face wet with tears. “The musket’s not even loaded.”
Maddox glanced down at the flintlock in his hands. Darien lunged and rammed his shoulder in Maddox’s midsection before he could again raise his gaze to see what hit him. The force of Darien’s blow sent them both to the ground. Darien reared back and slammed his fist into Maddox’s mouth.
“Darien, please!” Lily’s hand on his shoulder stopped him from rearing back a second time.
Melody’s cries sounded above the ringing in his ears. He straddled Maddox and gripped his wrists before he glanced at his daughter. Ivy had slipped off the bed and jostled Melody into quieting her outrage.
“Philip didn’t kill himself. He left a letter for me and it was no suicide note. What happened, Maddox? I know you were behind his murder. Philip said as much.”
“You are lying. He couldn’t have. It was a …” Maddox stopped himself.
“A letter, Darien? Philip left a letter?” Lily hovered behind him.
Darien dared not loosen his grip on Maddox to retrieve the evidence. The musket he’d left earlier, fully loaded and ready to be fired, stood against the wall.
Jacobson stood, staring down at the two men in utter confusion. Between Henry Maddox and Collin Jacobson, Darien knew which man he trusted more.
“Collin, help me lift him,” Darien called to Jacobson who immediately rushed to help him drag Maddox to his feet.
Once Jacobson had wrenched Maddox’s arms behind his back, Darien reached into his pocket and handed Lily the two folded pieces of paper resting near his heart. He quickly strode to the musket and lifted it to his shoulder.
“You can tell me everything now, Maddox, or we can find Major Fitzgerald. Have you ever heard of the disciplinary measures used by his Majesty’s Calvary? Rand is quite handy with a whip.”
“It was an accident.” Henry struggled against Jacobson’s grip. “Tell this murderous brute to release me at once. He’s as much to blame as anyone. Have you forgotten he almost killed your nephew?”
“But he was aiming for you.”
“Shoot me, Blackmore, and questions will be asked. Perhaps I have a letter of my own somewhere.” Maddox tried to act confident but his gaze locked on Lily, who frantically read Philip’s letter.
“No doubt Father has already concocted the story of my demise…” Lily glanced at their father. “Father?”
Darien’s father did not respond. His fingers remained curled where Ivy had held his hand, unnaturally stiff as if he were made of molding clay.
“His breathing became painfully shallow after he told Collin what he thought had happened to Philip.” Ivy leaned over the bed. Melody stuck her thumb in her mouth, her feathery eyebrows knitted as she searched her mother’s face with obvious worry.
Darien stared dumbly, from his father to his daughter, relieved for her safety and heartsick for the loss of his father at the same time. He tightened his grip on the musket and turned his attention to Maddox.
“Philip intended to run away to Scotland. He took the time to write me a full-page letter. He didn’t hang himself.”
Lily touched their father’s cheek, then felt for signs of life at his neck. Her stoic expression crumbled on a sob.
“Answer me, Maddox.” Darien funneled his grief into anger. “You killed Philip, didn’t you?”
“I would have never intentionally hurt Philip.” Maddox swallowed hard and made a show of struggling against Jacobson’s grip.
“Release him.” Darien ordered, then nodded for Jacobson to step away. If Darien needed to shoot Maddox, he wanted a clear path.
“Philip would have grown bored of Scotland in short order.” Maddox straightened his jacket and glared at his rival. “He’d have been back in London before the start of the next season. But the damage would have been done, just the same. I tried to make him understand that.”
“May I see that letter?” Jacobson said softly.
Darien glanced at Ivy, who had deposited Melody in Agatha’s arms and held the two pieces of paper he had given his sister. He wasn’t sure which one she read with such a wide astonished gaze, but both would change their future drastically.
“Ivy, when you’re finished, would you be so kind?”
She met Darien’s gaze and smiled sadly, but with something he hadn’t seen in her large eyes since their passionate night in the carriage. Hope instead of bitter resignation. She strode toward Jacobson and handed him Philip’s letter.
“Philip no doubt changed his mind after he’d disappointed his father so bitterly. That letter proves nothing.” Maddox followed the letter’s progress with the attention one might give a looming threat.
“It proves everything.” Darien gripped the musket with one hand and held his freed hand out to Ivy, who walked close to him. “And ends any association you have with the Blackmores.”
“Don’t threaten me, my lord. The letter changes nothing.” Maddox straightened. “If you don’t mind, I have a wedding to arrange. Wh
at you do with the sodomite doesn’t concern me.”
Jacobson blocked the door. Maddox paused and turned to Darien. “If you are going to shoot me, Lord Westhaven, then do so. Otherwise, I shall be on my way.”
“And what will we find when we exhume Philip’s body? The House of Lords takes commoners murdering their own quite seriously. I assure you, I will prosecute you in no less than an audience of Philip’s peers.”
Maddox balled his fist and appeared furious. Darien had finally found a warm vein under Maddox’s ice-cold exterior.
“Exposing our families’ unconventional relationship would not serve either of us, Lord Westhaven. Are you so willing to throw away the reputation of your title, something your father devoted the latter part of his life to preserving?”
“I’m not marrying your daughter. If I must, I will bring her maidenhood into question. Rumors can be so vicious.”
Ivy, who stood behind him gasped. “Darien. No.”
Darien ignored her, staring through Maddox in a ruthless imitation of his father.
“Very well.” Maddox nodded. “Am I free to go?”
“After you tell me what you did to Philip. You couldn’t have overpowered him and if you had shot him, surely someone would have noticed the wound.”
“I asked him for a final embrace and stabbed him in the heart.” Maddox’s smug grin and blank stare chilled Darien. “After the bleeding stopped, I retrieved a fresh shirt from his hastily packed satchel. A buttoned coat and some rearranged hay covered the rest of the evidence, not that anyone bothered to look. Using one of the stable’s pulleys to hang him from the rafters was a stroke of genius, really. Very shocking and dramatic.”
Darien could only blink in response. He wanted to believe Maddox invented such a story to torture him.
“May I be excused, now? You shall have your Lady Harlot and her bastard, and can live out your days in shunned isolation.”
