The Viscount's Vendetta (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic)
Page 28
Charles stood on the bottom step frozen in mid-stride. His face went pale when a brown-haired man pulled him into an embrace.
“Charles, it has been so long. I can’t tell you how glad we are to see you.” The man stepped back and smiled at Charles.
Damon hurried down the steps. He looked beyond the man to the two ladies who had stepped out of the carriage. Caroline, his Caroline, had come home.
The stranger looked beyond Charles and saw Damon. He put out his hand. “May I introduce myself?” Harold motioned his wife to his side. “I am Charles’s brother, Harold Royston, and this is my wife, Eleanor.”
Damon noticed Charles’s face went paler, with a gray tinge to his skin. “It is good to make your acquaintance. I have planned many times to visit your home and meet you. I never did. I’m sorry to have been so remiss.” Damon looked at Caroline and smiled. “I see you have met my wife.”
“She has been most gracious to join us on our journey,” Harold said. Turning back to his brother, he smiled. “I see we have shocked you, dear brother. Perhaps we can talk later? After you have had a chance to recover from our surprise.”
Charles cleared his throat and nodded. “Later would be better. I was going on an errand for Lord Royston, so if you would excuse me.”
“Charles, send someone else with my message.” Damon interrupted his hurried departure.
“No, I must take care of this myself. I’m sure my brother and his wife are planning on staying a few days after coming this distance. We will have plenty of time to talk.” With that said, Charles rushed down the walk toward the stables.
“Please come in. I will have Mrs. Parker take you to your room. You must be tired and would like to freshen up.”
“I hope we are not inconveniencing you. We should have sent a messenger ahead, but everything happened quickly,” Harold explained.
“Not at all. You are very welcome.” Damon watched as Mrs. Parker took over and directed them upstairs to a guest room.
“Damon, I am sorry to dump all of this on you. I know you must be very angry with me. I can’t explain, but I sensed an urgency to bring the brothers together.”
Damon turned to find Caroline had come to stand beside him. “You look very tired.” He reached out and touched her cheek. “I am not angry. Go up to your room and rest. We will talk later.”
Damon’s gentleness brought tears to Caroline’s eyes. “I am weary, but I must apologize. Charles is not the imposter that I thought him to be. I don’t know where I got such a silly idea. Charles seemed so different from you and your family. I assumed something with no real evidence. I was wrong. He is the real Charles. I am sorry, Damon.”
“Don’t worry. Go lie down. We will talk later, I promise.” Damon saw Mrs. Parker was back, standing nearby. “Help my lady to her room. Where are Nanny Fowler and Mary?” Damon asked as Caroline started up the stairs with Mrs. Parker.
“They should be arriving soon. They were in another carriage a short distance behind.”
“Good. I’ll send them up as soon as they arrive.”
Damon went back to his study. It had only been a short while ago that he had discovered the hidden passage and found more papers. Charles and the carriage arriving had interrupted him. He needed to read the papers now and his father’s old letter.
If he remembered right, he had thought there was something different about the writing. But in his grief, he had crumbled the paper and thrown it down. Things were happening fast, and he must have all the information available.
Chapter Nineteen
Caroline awoke from her nap just before dusk. She still felt tired, but she was anxious to be up and about. When Mrs. Parker brought her up to her room, she had explained to Caroline that Damon had come directly to the old house and had been staying here.
Hope bubbled inside of her. If Damon meant to be through with her, wouldn’t he have closed this house and gone back to the new one? His gentleness downstairs earlier was unexpected and again Caroline felt the bubbles of hope go through her.
She walked to her window and thought of Gallant. She’d go to the stables and get him to take with her on a walk. Dressing herself in an old gown, she quietly let herself out the back door. She wanted time to think and time to enjoy being home. She’d thought of Atelstone Hall as her home since the first time she’d walked inside the doors.
Gallant barked, and ran to her as soon as she entered the stables.
“I think you remember me.” Caroline knelt down and patted the now larger dog.
“Dogs don’t forget their rescuers.” Old Man Peter came out of the shadows. “’Tis good to see you back, milady.”
“It is good to be back, Peter. I see you have taken good care of Gallant.”
“He’s a good dog. He doesn’t cause any trouble.”
“I’ll take him with me. I want to walk around to the Gazebo. I won’t be gone long.”
Peter nodded and went back to his chores. Caroline motioned for Gallant to follow. He happily ran around her feet, almost tripping her in his excitement.
Gallant ran ahead, and then would circle back, barking for her to hurry. Caroline laughed out loud with joy. The sun was setting and pink streaks lit up the sky. Fluffy white clouds blew overhead. It was a beautiful day.
Caroline sat on the bench and stared across the lake. The breeze had died down and the water was smooth. Gallant, tired from his running, lay at her feet. The peacefulness of the scene filled her with pleasure. She imagined herself months from now sitting in this spot and holding her child.
Gallant raised his head and growled. Caroline glanced around and saw Charles standing nearby, glowering at her.
“I thought I’d find you here.” He stepped closer. “You! Always sticking your nose in my business. How dare you go to my brother’s home and bring him here?”
The hate directed at her tightened her throat and made her shiver. Gallant stood in front of her, growling louder.
“Call your dog off, or I’ll shoot him.” Charles’s words were harsh.
“Stop, Gallant.” Caroline reached down and patted Gallant. She whispered in his ear. “Home, home.”
Gallant shook his head, almost as though he were saying no, then suddenly he shot off. He ran around Charles, and Charles raised his gun.
“No.” Caroline threw herself against him. The gun went off, the loud noise reverberating in the stillness.
“Damn you.” Charles pushed her away, and she fell on the ground. He swung the gun to point it at her. “I will shoot you and leave. I have money and no one will find me on the continent. Don’t you wish you’d minded your own business?”
Caroline stared at the end of the rifle. She had foolishly left her small pistol in her room. She’d been so happy to be home and had felt safe for the moment.
Her hands went protectively to her stomach. She would die and with her, the child she and Damon had created.
“Don’t. Wait. I will give you more money and help you escape.”
“Hah, you don’t have any money. Damon has charge of all your cash and savings. Do you think I’m stupid?” He yelled the words out at her and took aim again. “If only you’d left well enough alone, but no, you had to keep sneaking around. Don’t you understand? It was all an accident.
“My uncle was threatening to send a letter to my father about the missing funds and then dismiss me. I took the gun only to frighten him. How was I to know he would fight me? I pulled away and raised my arm, the gun discharged. He fell back into his chair.
“I thought I was clever to act quickly and make it look like suicide. Why did you have to be the one Damon chose to marry? No other woman would have started snooping around.
“Now I have to kill you. It’s all over, and you are the one I blame. You ruined everything.” He steadied the rifle again and took aim.
“No!” Caroline screamed. The sound of the bullet was the last thing she heard. There was a hot flash of pain and all went black.
* * * *
“Your butler said you’d be in here. I hope I’m not disturbing you. I thought this might be a good time for us to have a private talk. My lady and yours are resting, and Charles has not returned yet.”
“Please come in. I’ve wanted to talk with you.” Damon went over to the decanter and poured a shot of whiskey for them both.
Looking down into his glass, Damon considered how he could start the conversation. How did he tell a man his brother was a thief and possibly a murderer? Damon took a swallow of the whiskey and faced Harold.
“My wife has uncovered some papers my father wrote shortly before his death. I found other papers just today. I don’t know how to explain what all the papers indicate,” Damon said.
“I gather it must concern my brother?”
“I’m afraid so.”
“Perhaps I should tell you something of my brother before you start.” Harold sat back in his chair. “Our mother died at his birth, and my father never had anything to do with him afterward. He was raised by nannies and tutors. Father only had time for me.
“You see, my father adored our mother and every time he looked at Charles, he reminded him of his loss. Charles looks like her. I tried to talk with father about his treatment of Charles, but it was the one subject we couldn’t agree on.”
“Were you and Charles close?” Damon asked.
Harold shook his head. “No, I tried, but Charles grew up trusting no one. I hoped the offer to come work for your father would be a good thing for him. When we didn’t hear from him, I suspected things had not turned out as he hoped, or that he wanted to forget us and put his childhood behind him. I didn’t know whether to initiate a visit or not. Charles never answered my letters, nor Eleanor’s.”
After taking a quick swallow of whiskey, Harold looked back at Damon. “You see, Eleanor and Charles were in love, but he also left her behind. Charles has done something bad, hasn’t he?”
Damon walked toward the French windows. He smiled when he remembered seeing Caroline and Gallant going down the walk to the lake earlier. The sight of the happy dog frolicking around his mistress’s skirts had warmed his heart.
When he turned to face Harold, he thought he heard a noise. It almost sounded like a gunshot, but all was quiet now and appeared normal outside. He shook his head. He must be mistaken. He faced Harold, and told him about the journal. That Damon’s father had written of his suspicions regarding Charles stealing from the estate. Other papers showed numbers changed and indicated a large amount of revenue had disappeared.
“The final papers I found today were addressed to my father’s attorney and detailed the whole of Charles stealing from him. My father had directed the attorney to have the authorities question Charles if anything should happen to him. He had planned to confront Charles the next day. The day of his death.”
Silence filled the study. Shadows came inside the room as the sun moved further down in the sky. Outside, Damon heard the chirping of the birds and in the distance cows mooing. Then Damon heard the sound again. This time he was certain it was a shot. He rushed to the open French windows. Down the path from the lake came Gallant moving as quickly as his legs would take him.
“Oh my God!” Damon ran to his desk and took out his gun.
“What’s happened?” Harold jumped up and came to his side.
“I heard a gunshot and Gallant is running toward the house without Caroline. I must go.” He hurried outside and met Gallant. “Take me to her, boy.”
The dog whirled around, running ahead. Damon ran behind, but had not gone far before he heard another shot.
No. The word screamed in Damon’s head. He rushed around the curve in the path toward the gazebo. He saw two people on the ground, Charles and Caroline. Peter stood over Charles, a gun in his hand.
“Caroline.” Damon rushed to her and pulled her into his arms. Fear shook him and bile filled his throat. Not again. He couldn’t lose her like he did his father. “No!” His scream was filled with the agony of his pain.
“I’m sorry, Lord Royston. Something told me to go find her. I got here a few seconds late. He”—Peter motioned to Charles lying by his foot—“had the gun pointed at her. I yelled and I think it disturbed his aim. She’s breathing.”
Damon realized he was right. Her breathing was shallow and faint, but she was alive.
“I killed him.” Peter kicked his boot into Charles’s side. “I shot him in his black heart.”
“Go send someone for the doctor, Peter. And Peter,” Damon stopped the old man. “Thank you.”
Peter nodded, and then ran toward the house.
Harold ran up to the scene as Peter ran by him. “Oh, my. What has my brother done?” He knelt briefly by his brother’s side and touched his neck feeling for a pulse. He shook his head. “He’s gone.”
Harold knelt beside Damon. “How can I help?”
“Go ahead of me and notify staff about Caroline’s injury.” His eyes briefly met Harold’s. “I’m sorry, Harold, for you, but not for your brother. Have someone remove his body.”
Damon stood with Caroline in his arms. He saw where the bullet had gone through her shoulder. “I’m going to take my wife to her room. See the doctor is sent up as soon as he arrives.”
* * * *
Later, Damon sat in his room waiting for the doctor to come out and tell him about Caroline’s condition. He wanted to stay, but the doctor had pushed him out the door. He heard soft voices, and he thought he heard a yelp of pain. Damon sprang up from his chair and charged into the room.
“Lord Royston, I asked you to wait for me to talk with you.” The old country doctor, who had cared for Damon and many of the surrounding neighbors over the years, frowned at Damon.
“I can’t sit out there doing nothing.”
“I’m almost finished.” The doctor held out the bullet to show Damon. “It is a clean wound and didn’t hit any bones. She is a lucky lady. I have examined her extensively and my only other concern is the child. Such a shock could cause a miscarriage.”
“The child?” Damon’s face reflected his surprise.
The doctor smiled. “I gather from your expression she did not tell you yet. Many ladies prefer to wait until they feel sure they will carry the babe to term. Don’t be too hard on her for keeping it a surprise.”
Damon sat down heavily in a nearby chair. All this time she had been carrying his child. During the time he had rebuked her and sent her away. Of course, she would not tell him. She would have feared he would take the child from her.
He lowered his head and ran his hands through his hair. Tears came to his eyes.
“Don’t worry, milord. She is young and strong. There is hope she will hold on to this child. Keep her quiet, lots of rest, and give her warm tea, and soup.” The doctor turned to Nanny. “You know what to do.”
“Yes, sir. We will all take good care of her ladyship,” Nanny Fowler replied.
“I understand there is another person to be seen. Where is Mr. Royston?”
Damon walked with the doctor to a room downstairs, where Charles’s body had been placed. He stopped at the door as the doctor entered. The old doctor shook his head. “Nothing to be done here. Would you like to tell me what happened here today, Lord Royston?”
“I’m not completely sure. I suspect Charles hated my wife because she found out about his stealing from the estate during my father’s time and his involvement with my father’s death. I doubt we’ll ever know exactly what happened the day my father died, but it was not a suicide.”
“No one who knew your father ever believed he would do such a thing, but all the evidence pointed in that direction.” The doctor turned to walk out of the room. He put his hand on Damon’s shoulder. “It is good that you know he didn’t kill himself. It will help ease the pain you have carried all these years over your father’s death.”
“How did you know?” Damon asked, surprised.
“For the ones of us who have lived here a long time, we saw it in your eyes. Thank goodness your sweet lady has gotten to the bottom of this mystery. Don’t worry. She’s strong and will give you many children to fill this big old place.” The doctor smiled, took his bag, and left.
Harold and Eleanor were pale. Their eyes avoided meeting Damon’s.
“We all need a strong drink, including you, Eleanor. A sip of my fine brandy will do you good.” Damon urged them to come with him to the lounge. He sent Buckley for the whiskey and brandy.
“There is no reason for you two to feel guilty. None at all. You are not responsible for Charles’s actions.” Damon smiled at the two as they looked directly at him.
“My family has brought you so much grief. How can you stand the sight of us?” Harold asked.
“Every family has problems. We will stick together. I hope this will be the beginning of a long friendship between our two families. We must decide what we want the public to know about what occurred here today. Enough harm has been done. Let us find a way to satisfy the curious, without shaming the Royston name.”
The front door opened and Hannah came barreling through. “Word just reached us of Caroline being shot. Is she all right?”
Looking beyond his sister, he saw his aunt and uncle with worried expressions on their faces. “Come in. I believe all is going to be well. The doctor seems most confident that with care and love, Caroline will recover. Let me introduce my guests. This is my cousin, Harold Royston and his wife, Eleanor. Harold was Charles’s brother.”
Damon took Hannah’s hand. “This is my sister, Hannah, and my uncle, the Marquis of Sommerplace, and my Aunt Elizabeth, his wife.”
Both men shook hands and Aunt Elizabeth stepped across to Eleanor. “Let us drop all formality. You all look as though you have been through a terrible ordeal. May I hug you?” she asked Eleanor.
Eleanor stepped into her open arms and began to cry. Hannah came up beside her and patted her back.