"Jason was successful for some time as the runner of a spy network, until his wife betrayed him, inadvertently or on purpose, we'll never know. She let something slip, and paid the price. He was forced to watch while his family was tortured and killed, but he never gave them the information they were demanding." He sighed heavily.
"How dreadful," Pamela said with a shudder.
Jonathan nodded. "It was. But he knew if he said anything, hundreds, if not thousands would die. He made a terrible choice. He gave up his whole family for the sake of his colleagues, and for his principles. It's no wonder he didn't want to remember what he'd done."
"No, indeed," Sarah said, stroking the thick fall of dark hair back from his brow lovingly. "The poor man. He saved so many, but at such a cost. Most people would never have been able to make such a sacrifice."
"Then they began to torture him, if his scars are anything to go by. I don't know how he escaped, all I know is that we never gave up hope that he was alive after he vanished. We began looking for him in earnest after Ferncliffe had arrived laying claim to the earldom. He had been ordinary Edward Murphy in the Army. They were cousins, so it would be normal enough for Ferncliffe to have some claim, except that there were three Davenport brothers. Alexander is the third son. His brothere Simon and Georges had been helping him, but shortly before I lost track of Jason, they were both reported dead under mysterious circumstances. Hence the bizarre part of his will, and why they needed him alive for at least a little while longer."
"Why, to squeeze more information out of him?" Pamela asked.
"Perhaps. Knowledge is power, after all, and the end of the war was unexpected, and by no means certain. But no, my love, this was primarily due to the far more prosaic motive of greed.
"Jason stipulated that only his dead body identified by three doctors would secure the claim to the estate. Otherwise it would all go to various charities. I'm not sure of all of the identifying marks, but the tattoos were a good start. Except that he hated the needles."
Sarah smiled. "That would explain why he had only his initials, not the full name like all of you Rakehells."
Jonathan nodded.
"Anyway, I'm guessing that the Duke of Ellesmere's men making inquiries after Ferncliffe pitched up claiming to be the Earl caused them to search through all of the remaining soldiers still left in Spain and Portugal who were too sick to move.
"The last I had heard, Thomas told me that there had been a man matching Alex's description, who had headed back to the Horse Guards to report. By the time we found this out, he had been and gone. We hoped to find him eventually, tried to track him down. We never dreamed he would come here, and be staying with you at the vicarage. Or calling himself Jonathan Deveril. We were looking all over for him to help save him, and Providence led him right to our door. And into your heart." He shook his head in wonderment.
Sarah briefly told her brother how the error had arisen, and Alexander's journeys to the south and Oxford, before finally arriving in Somerset.
"But why didn't Malcolm know him?" she asked at the end of her portion of the tale.
"He is one of the younger Rakehells, and Alex is older than me. There's about six or seven years difference between them, so I doubt he ever met him. Henry Stone might have met him once or twice when he visited Clifford in Oxford."
"Drat. We never did get to see Henry to ask him if he knew Alexander," Sarah sighed. "He might have been able to tell us everything if we hadn't missed him that day we stopped in."
Jonathan shrugged. "I'm not so sure it would have helped. It might have only made things worse. Alexander might have blundered into his old home and been killed before I ever even found out he was still alive and well. Henry is a good man, but he might not have been much help against a clever set of enemies like Ferncliffe and Breedon."
She sighed. "I can't think how poor Alexander must have suffered."
"How much does he remember now?"
"I think most of it."
Pamela spoke up. "Forgive the indelicate question, but what is so special about his body?"
Sarah smiled, but said seriously, "In addition to the tattoos you are pretty familiar with as the wife of a Rakehell, he has a sixth toe on the left foot, an old bullet wound in his shoulder from a hunting accident, a broken rib, and several other significant marks only a wife or a very observant person would know. None of them are injuries which could be duplicated easily."
Jonathan nodded. "The will says his whole body, with all four limbs, had to be identified, and brought back to England if at all possible in order for anyone to inherit. He knew how much danger he was in. He realized these people were utterly ruthless, and he would never stay alive if he didn't take out some sort of insurance policy for himself."
"How ghastly." Pamela shivered, and now rose to put her arm around her husband's waist.
"Indeed. Sadly, he was never able to prove their machinations against him. They were convinced Napoleon would become Master of Europe and be grateful for all their help invading England."
"How monstrous," Sarah said with a shake of her head.
"It was a clever plan, and they were patient. But not patient enough. When they saw two of the main routes into Portugal would fall, through Ciudad Rodrigo and then Badajoz, they went after Alexander. They were working with the French, and had more than enough evidence to execute him for his espionage.
"By that time Alex was sick of fighting in the shadows. He admired me and knew what it had almost cost me to enlist. My family and friends when Father disowned me. He knew also his marriage to Marielle was a failure, but he was an honorable man. It was one way to end the marriage easily for both of them.
"If he went off to war, she would go her own way, as she had been all along. He could never even be sure that his two sons were his. But though he was disappointed in his family life, he thought they would be safe. He would have done his duty by them once he was not so disgusted by what he had learnt."
"Of course he would. He's a decent man. And the sins of the parents should never be visited on the children," Sarah said with a shake of her head. "So did Marielle betray him?"
Jonathan nodded. "Almost certainly. She was a vain, frivolous piece of fluff. She sold him out, little thinking how expendable she would be."
Sarah clung to her beloved's hand tightly. "Oh, Lord, how awful."
Pamela resumed her seat and snuffled sympathetically. "Are you sure? Sure she betrayed her own husband?"
The vicar solemnly nodded again. "Alexander had been clever and careful. He had played his part of a Spanish merchant to perfection. Who would associate a wealthy Spanish Don with a French emigre or a British major? He bought my commission, then went home to pack a few things and say goodbye to the boys. Alas, they were waiting for him."
"The rest we pretty much know from Thomas's agents. Alex, er, Jason, er, Alexander was forced to watch while they killed his family. He watched them die. They tortured him. Still he refused to tell them about the troop movements, or give away the identities and whereabouts of the partisans and other spies he was working with.
"He escaped, made his way back to Badajoz, and was taken in by the monks, who thought he was one of the injured from the battle. He was badly hurt, in shock. He must have hated himself for what he had seen. What he thought he had done. He'd watched two innocent children die, when one word from him could possibly have saved them."
"No, it wouldn't," Sarah said furiously. "They would have got what they wanted, and killed all of them anyway. And anyone else he had named. He did it for love of his country. No, beyond that. A love of freedom. I don't know that any of us could stand what he has and still stayed sane."
"And he made his way to England, to Brimley, and you two met and fell in love?" Pamela asked, fascinated.
She shrugged. "It was easy."
"It's remarkable. He's not the most likely man you would ever willingly choose," Jonathan remarked. "After all, you never took a second look at any of the other R
akehells, and he's so very different from the type of men you've know thus far. But I have to say I'm delighted."
Sarah gazed down at Alexander with a loving smile. "I chose him for better or for worse. I love him above all else. I only hope he feels the same now that he knows who he is."
A groan from the bed caused them all to hurry closer to Alexander's side. "I do, you know," he whispered.
"Do what?"
"Love you, above all else, Sarah. Faith, country, reason, my own life."
"Oh Alexander, I love you too. So very much." She kissed him on the lips, and he stroked her hair tenderly for a moment before pulling her head back.
He opened his eyes, and for the first time since they had met, there was a light of recognition in them.
"Let me look at you, love." He smiled broadly, boyishly. "My Lord. You're more beautiful than I ever imagined. Of course, it is still pretty dim, but I can see you vaguely, as if down a long dark tunnel."
"Oh, Alexander, I'm so glad," she wept. "It's kind of you to say about me being beautiful, but you don't-"
"You are. And especially now that you're carrying our child."
"How did you-" She blushed, and the tears began to fall even faster.
"I know every inch of your flesh. And I know why you lied. You were trying to make it easier for me to leave you."
She nodded. "I thought I was doing the right thing."
"Never," he said with a shake of his head. "It can never be right for us to be apart. And for a marriage to exist without love.
"But even if it had been true, that that woman had been my wife, I would have settled my affairs, and been back for you, Sarah. You're the most beautiful woman I've ever known, inside, and now as I can see, outside too. I want to marry you as soon as possible. Please, my love, will you make me the happiest of men?"
"Oh, yes, darling. I want to marry you more than anything."
He stroked her cheek and kissed her. "I knew you were lovely on the inside. The external beauty doesn't matter, but it's a nice bonus to have such a lovely face to look at upon the pillow every morning for the rest of my life."
He tried to sit up.
"Not so fast, Alex. You've had a nasty blow to the head," Jonathan cautioned.
"Not as nasty as the pain in my loins," he muttered.
"Oh, er, we'll just be down the hall if... you... need... us," Sarah's brother said as he scurried out of the room discreetly with his wife in tow.
Pamela gave a happy wave. "So nice to meet you. We'll, er, all talk later. And welcome to the family." She grinned, then shut the door behind her.
Once they were alone Alexander whispered against her hair, "I want to hold you close for just a little while longer, and then go home."
"Home?"
"To the vicarage for a start."
"Well, yes, I suppose. But we'll need to make other arrangements soon."
He nodded. "Since I'm now said to be the real Earl of Ferncliffe, and as such a legitimate heir to Pamela's estate, we can move in to Ashton Manor if Jonathan has no objections. I'm stunned about my brothers both being dead, but if the Duke says it's true, I'm afraid I just have to believe. And grieve."
Sarah rubbed his chest soothingly. "Such a waste, this whole war. I know you certainly never wanted to come into your wealth and title this way. But are you sure you want to live at Ashton Manor? I mean, there must be your own home in the south, your lands, Ferncliffe Castle?"
"I love Brimley, and by some miracle have fallen in love with the sister of one of my dearest friends. Where else would I want to live, and bring up our children, but in a place where I've been happy, with good company and family? The wonderful Deveril family. Thanks to you, I've been reborn."
Sarah pressed him back down onto the pillows. "You don't have to decide everything now, love."
He nodded firmly. "I do. We'll be married as soon as I can get out of this bed, and our child will be born in about seven months' time at a guess. I shall sort my affairs as best I can, with the help of your good self, of course, and we'll be blissfully happy," he said in a firm tone which allowed no room for doubt.
She smiled up at him. "It sounds wonderful."
He returned her grin, stroking her cheek as though he would never get tired of looking at her. "It will be. I've been in limbo for two years. You've brought me back to life again. I don't want to waste another minute of it. You're a woman beyond my wildest dreams, matchless, as the poem says. And another famous poet said, 'Carpe diem. Seize the day.' I aim to do just that."
She smiled. "So do I. But as long as you're in this bed, undressed, would it be too terrible of me to suggest that we seize a few other things as well?"
He dragged her on top of him and kissed her passionately, until the blood began to thrum in her veins.
At length he cursed, "Drat your breeches."
She giggled happily. "My thoughts exactly."
"Then help me."
"Gladly. Always," she purred, stripping them and the shirt off until she was naked.
He caressed her boldly, his eyes never closing as he drank in his fill of the lovely sight of her creamy flesh, her lush pinkness. He tugged her onto his abdomen, straddling her legs over his jutting hips, and spreading them wide.
He steadied her with both hands on her waist, and she sat astride him, melding them into one. She undulated her hips in a compelling rhythm, until he was panting, shivering, so close to the edge he was sure he would explode.
Yet somehow she could keep him dangling infinitely, poised on a knife-edge of maddening need, almost completely fulfilled, yet still wanting and needing so much more.
"Mmm, yes, always and forever, my dearest Sarah, my love, my wife," he rasped, before surrendering to the sensual bliss with a sigh.
She smiled down at him, her soft words echoing in his head as she pushed his passion up and over the edge into oblivion. "Forever, my precious love."
Afterword
In this novel I wanted to consider the issue of what constitutes identity. The war against Napoleon in Spain and France fragmented many lives, and not just with weapons. Many men, and women too, were displaced, dispossessed, and the war often treated as an opportunity for profit and plunder upon innocent victims.
Jane Austen has often been criticised for not dealing specifically with the implications of the war against Napoleon in her novels. But we can find many military characters, such as Captains Wentworth, Benwick, Harville and Admiral Croft, in Persuasion, and are given ample clues as to the hardships that they faced.
Perhaps she avoided writing about it because it was too close to home, with her brothers and no doubt many other male acquaintances embroiled in the long war on land and at sea.
Alexander Deveril, actually Jason Alexander Davenport, struggles to discover his identity, and comes to terms with the shocking reality of what has happened to him and what he has done. He is scarred in both body and mind, and it will take some time for him to adjust to life in post-war Europe. We will be seeing him in later novels as he tries to find a niche for himself once more and settle down as a family man. As you can guess, they are Rakehells, so their life together is not going to be completely uneventful!
Jonathan has developed throughout the three novels thus far, as has his sister Sarah. Thus I thought it was high time she had a thrilling adventure and love affair of her very own.
Another character in this series who has developed is young Elizabeth Eltham, the Duke of Ellesmere's sister. As you will recall from the start of this novel, Elizabeth has gone off to Ireland with her brother and the other Rakehell founder, Clifford Stone and his wife. Some interesting adventures will await them there, and fans of my novel Scars Upon her Heart are about to be reunited with some old friends. And enemies? Only time will tell!
We will also be seeing Blake, Michael, and Gareth all coming home soon. The details of the battles of Bayonne and Toulouse are all factual, as are the details about the end of the war in 1814. We will also still have Napoleon's ret
urn of the Hundred Days to look forward to in coming novels.
The Rakehell Regency Romance Series
Book 5
THE SCARRED HEART
Sorcha MacMurrough
TABLE OF CONTENTS
SYNOPSIS
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
REVIEWS
The Rakehell Regency Romance Collection Volume 2 Page 33
