Of course the man would be back in the morning. The alternative was ridiculous in the extreme. What man rode away from his estate with nothing more but a horse and his riding gear? And yet that very thought niggled at Christoph Agyros. The only thing he knew for certain was that Pendennys had ridden out looking for his wife. That made two of them who didn’t know where Lilya had gone.
While he’d waited and watched, Lilya had slipped past him. This was worrisome. He had no idea where Lilya had gone. She could have gone to either Fowey or Falmouth, one north, one south. But the baron had headed towards Falmouth, Christoph had verified it before he’d been pushed off the road by bad weather.
It was crucial he find Pendennys. If Lilya wasn’t with him already, Pendennys was the only link to her. Christoph hoped to catch him on the road home from Falmouth, ideally dragging his wife behind him. But time and again, Pendennys had proved himself to be more than the usual man. He’d travelled with a fresh bullet wound, refusing to succumb to fever like any normal man. He’d even married Lilya Stefanov, knowing the enormous troubles that came with her.
Pendennys had not acted like any usual man then, why would he do so now? The moment Christoph finished eating, he’d get back out there and start searching the Falmouth road. Capturing Pendennys would be a start and a sure lure to bring Lilya out of hiding. She’d never let her husband suffer for her. The plan was simple enough.
Simple plans were not without their hitches, Beldon reflected the next morning. He stood at the window of the inn’s best chamber in the morning light, dressed only in his undergarments. He let the rosy sunrise fall across his body, savouring the newness of the day, his eyes closed, his thoughts turned inward to what this new day would bring: a new start, a new life. If all went well, by the end of the day he’d no longer be Baron Pendennys. Baron Pendennys and his new bride would have died in a tragic accident along the coastal road. But Mr Matthew Glenhurst and his wife, Catherine, would be setting out on their new life together aboard a ship bound for Ireland and then America.
Beldon stretched from side to side, going through his usual routine of morning exercises. If all went well… That was the key. It was one thing to plan a disappearance. It was another to actually pull it off.
Timing would be everything. They’d have to stay around town and let themselves be seen this morning. He wanted people running some errands. But he did not want to wait too long in Falmouth in case Christoph had worked out they were not at Pendennys.
Regardless, he’d have to wait long enough for the shops to open and to reach the bank. He wanted his money before his ‘demise’ later in the day. He had funds in London, too, but he’d need Valerian to privately make those accessible to him later.
Beldon stretched out on the cold floor to work his abdomen with a series of exercises. It was laughable really, all his plans. Not one of them had come to fruition. They’d all been derailed or reshaped in some fashion. He’d gone to London with a list of wifely attributes, only to discard them in favour of Lilya. He’d planned for an evacuation of Pendennys if necessary. Supplies had been laid in, a carriage readied so that they could flee in comfort, well provisioned. Instead, he’d ridden out of Pendennys with pistols, the clothes on his back, a roll of pound notes and a set of papers tucked into his cloak.
Now, he was ‘planning’ the next phase of their escape, but who knew how it would turn out?
In the bed, Lilya stirred among the sheets and Beldon stopped his exercises to watch her slumber, her hair tumbled about her on the pillow. She’d slept well after he’d carried her upstairs, as had he. The previous day had been tiring, but he thought the quality of sleep was from something more than sheer exhaustion. They’d reached a new level of understanding downstairs last night, not only of each other, but of themselves.
It had taken the stripping away of all the trappings of their life to comprehend what they truly meant to each other. Pendennys was his life, or so he’d thought, right up until last night. When he’d returned to find Lilya gone, it had been far easier than he would have believed to simply walk out the door to find her. Only he hadn’t walked, he had raced, because Lilya was out there and Christoph was out there and Heaven forbid Christoph find her first. Even in the morning light and the sanity that was reputed to return with the dawn, he knew he’d chosen well. Lilya was all that mattered. He wanted to live in freedom with her, wherever that was.
The things she’d professed last night still overwhelmed him. She’d been willing to give up her personal happiness in order to save him, willing to simply disappear to free him. It was extraordinary, really, to be loved so thoroughly, although the consequences could have been dire. Life without Lilya would be a half-life at best.
He crawled back into bed, the warmth of her body taking the chill off the morning, and kissed her gently. ‘Time to wake up, my dear, and begin the rest of our lives.’
‘Mmmm,’ Lilya murmured, sniffing the air. ‘Love and bacon, that sounds very promising. I could get used to that.’
Beldon laughed, rolling her beneath him. ‘I sincerely hope you do.’ The rest of their lives was getting off to a good start.
The morning passed uneventfully. The rain that had impeded him yesterday was an ally today. The summer storm had passed in the night, leaving the roads soft in places with mud that had not yet hardened. Travel would be slow not only for him and Lilya, but for Christoph, too. For those reasons, Beldon was eager to be off. The more distance he could put between himself and Christoph, the better.
Beldon had them underway by half past ten. He was mounted on his stallion and Lilya on a rented gelding with a sturdy temperament, her clothing packed in a valise from the innkeeper. Taking a gig was out of the question. They’d spend the better part of the day pushing a gig out of ruts.
Lilya was nervous; he could feel the tension radiating from her body when he gave her a leg up. ‘Don’t worry,’ he whispered, swinging up behind her. ‘It’s a beautiful day for a ride and at the end of it we’ll be at Val’s.’ Nature had given them a lovely day in exchange for the drenching night. The sky was blue overhead and it promised to be pleasantly warm later in the day. Everything would be fine as long as they didn’t have to race anywhere.
‘We won’t outrun anyone.’ Lilya gave voice to the most obvious concern, but the odds were in their favour.
‘Christoph can’t give chase any faster than we can go with the roads in this shape,’ Beldon reassured her confidently. He guided his horse on to the road and into the light stream of traffic exiting Falmouth.
‘Unless he’s waiting up ahead.’ Lilya’s eyes darted from side to side, searching for a likely spot for an ambush.
‘He would have to be very sure of himself to take that chance,’ Beldon countered. ‘He’d have to know without doubt we’d gone to Falmouth and not Fowey. His luck has been a little thin on the ground by my count. I don’t think he’ll be feeling lucky enough to stake that kind of claim.’ But for good measure, Beldon’s hand closed over the butt of the pistol beneath his riding cloak.
Forewarned was forearmed. If Christoph’s luck hadn’t been good, his own had not been much better. If Christoph knew neither of them were at Pendennys by now, it would be safe to assume the chase was engaged. He was out there somewhere.
By mid-afternoon, the weather had changed again, clouds blowing in from the ocean, the sun obscured behind them. A fat raindrop hit their faces two miles from Roseland. Beside him, Lilya pulled up the hood of her cloak, casting a pessimistic glance at the ominous sky. The trip had taken twice its usual time with the slow roads and the mud sucking at the horses’ hooves.
Beldon squinted into the distance. Damn. Another delay. The road appeared to be blocked by trees that had fallen during the night. Damn and double damn. This part of the road to Roseland was not well populated. He’d turned off the main road a little way back in order to take a more direct route to Valerian’s. He’d have to move the trees on his own without the benefit of help fr
om others on the road. He hoped his shoulder was up for it. It would have to be unless they wanted to walk the last two miles.
The unblocked margin between the road and cliff edge was fairly narrow. The edge was dangerously soft, a mudslide waiting to happen. Beldon reined his stallion to a halt and hopped down to survey the damage.
He kicked a booted foot at the tree trunks. They’d fallen in a slant across the road. If he could trust the ground on the other side and if he had been alone, he’d have jumped Randolph over them. There was no chance of getting Lilya’s rented gelding over them. The horse was stocky and built for endurance, not for jumping. Beldon tested one of the tree trunks, but it was too heavy for a single man to move. Even if his shoulder had been in good health, it would have been impossible.
He stood there, hands on hips, his mind going through his list of options. The list was short. There was only one. Lead the horses around on the narrow bit of path between the cliff and the road.
‘I’ll take Randolph first and then come back for your horse.’
‘I can lead my horse, he seems docile enough,’ Lilya offered, not wanting to be left behind.
Beldon cast an assessing glance at the narrow strip of land and shook his head. ‘I don’t want to risk too much weight at once on the ground. We don’t know how strong the cliff edge is. Or if your horse spooks for any reason, we don’t all want to be out on that strip.’ He didn’t mean to lose Lilya to a mudslide just when he’d discovered how much she meant to him.
‘I’ll be right back, my dear,’ Beldon reassured her with a quick kiss.
He grabbed Randolph’s reins with as much good cheer as he could summon up and began the dangerous trek around the edge. The distance comprised perhaps a hundred yards, but it was every bit as treacherous as he’d feared. The ground was soft and it took all his strength to keep Randolph pressed to the side away from the lip of the edge where the ground was at its softest. There was only one perilous slip where the ground had threatened to give out. Randolph had balked, sensing the danger, but low soothing words had got him through it.
Beldon looked back at the path, now marked with hoofprints and boots. He opted to climb over the tree trunks for his return. The path was every bit as slippery as he’d predicted. The fewer pressures on it, the better. He’d climb over and get Lilya’s horse and tell Lilya to start climbing through. He would not risk her out on that rim after two horses had passed.
Beldon took the tree trunks agilely, calling out as he went, ‘Lilya, I’m coming over the top.’
‘Stay where you are, Pendennys,’ came the cold male response. That was not Lilya’s voice.
Beldon crested the trunks, horror freezing him. Christoph stood there, holding Lilya and a gun. Lilya was pale, her face stoically blank. ‘I will shoot her, Pendennys.’
‘Then I will shoot you. You don’t think I am unarmed, do you?’ Beldon ground out, his mind flying over options, of which there were none. With Lilya pressed to him, Christoph could not be rushed. Beldon could not launch himself at Christoph without also landing on Lilya and there was no guarantee she’d be safe from a random gunshot if the gun misfired.
There was another consideration, too. Christoph didn’t look right. This was not the man who’d so suavely presented himself in London’s ballrooms with the manners of a gentleman. It wasn’t that he was dirty from travel or merely tired. It was his eyes. They looked feverish, mad almost. A man who’d become unhinged was not a logical creature. Beldon must tread carefully here.
‘All right,’ Beldon said slowly. ‘What do you want?’
‘I want the diamond. I know she has it.’
Beldon shook his head. ‘I know nothing of a diamond. She does not have whatever it is you’re looking for. Let her go and take your obsession with my wife elsewhere.’
‘You lie!’ Christoph exploded, shoving Lilya away from him in a quick, jerky move that caused her to fall. ‘Let’s try it this way.’ The gun shifted to him. ‘Lilya, you’ll be more inclined to co-operate,’ he sneered. ‘Give me the diamond or I’ll shoot your husband.’
‘So you can shoot me moments later?’ Lilya picked herself up off the ground slowly and Beldon thought she might have slid a hand beneath her skirt. Don’t do it, Lilya, he thought silently. Don’t go after that madman with your knife. Beldon was helpless up on the tree trunks. Leaping on Christoph now would only result in acquiring a gaping chest wound.
‘I would take you with me, Lilya. You could be my wife and we could rule Greece together.’ The man had truly lost his mind. He made a wild gesture with the gun. ‘Hurry now, Lilya, make up your mind.’
Beldon could see her falter, unsure what to do.
‘I’ve already had him shot once. This time I won’t miss,’ Christoph taunted her.
Lilya seemed to come to some sort of decision. ‘All right. But Beldon has to get the diamond. It’s in the saddle bag on his horse.’ Beldon stifled a groan. It was to be an exchange, then.
‘You for the diamond,’ Christoph growled at Lilya, ‘on the path over there.’
With that, Beldon hastily retreated and rummaged the saddle bag until he found what he was looking for, a black velvet pouch. Then he went to his end of the trail, his heart racing. Surely the trail would hold under Lilya’s weight. Surely Christoph was mad enough to claim his prize and go. No, none of it was sure. It was all very frightening. Beldon had one hand around the black pouch and the other around his pistol. He’d fire if he had the chance. He’d do whatever it took to free his wife of Christoph Agyros.
Lilya stepped out on to the path, her eyes holding his, trying so very hard not to look down, trying not to be afraid. When she was halfway, at the most perilous part of the trail, Agyros yelled, ‘Toss her the bag, Pendennys. Then she can toss it to me.’
Beldon shook his head. ‘No, I’ll toss her the bag, but she leaves it there. You can come out and get it.’ Otherwise, he had no guarantee Agyros wouldn’t shoot Lilya after he had the jewel.
Lilya gasped, drawing his attention. She took a jiggy little side step as dirt loosened and slid where she stood.
Beldon tossed Lilya the bag. Time was running out. He knew just how exposed the land was. He wasn’t risking her. ‘Put the bag down, Lilya, and move towards me, slowly,’ he ordered. ‘If you try anything, Agyros, I’ll have a bullet in you.’
Lilya caught the bag and bent to set it down. ‘No, show me the diamond first,’ Agyros protested. ‘There could be anything in that bag.’
Lilya straightened and pulled the gem out, holding it up between her thumb and forefinger. An unholy light lit Agyros’s eyes. She slid it back into the bag, but Agyros was a man possessed and he did not wait. He leapt at Lilya, his move pushing them both off balance and teetering near the cliff edge. ‘Lilya!’ Beldon launched himself towards the madman with no care for his own safety, but his efforts were too late. There was the briefest of warning and then the ground collapsed beneath them and they all began a long tumbling slide to the bottom of the cliff.
Beldon hit the ground hard, aware that he was barely conscious. Breathing was becoming painfully impossible and his thoughts were scattered. With the last vestiges of consciousness, he struggled upwards against the mud that sought to trap him. He could not die here. He had to find Lilya. Where was she? Where was Christoph? But he had no answers as the darkness claimed him.
Where was the diamond? The thought roused Christoph to action. He did not care how long he’d lain there or if he’d been unconscious. He cared only that his quarry lay on the shale beach, somewhere. The aches of his body were nothing compared to the prize if he could get up and move. He’d seen it! The diamond was more beautiful than he’d imagined.
He levered himself upright with the help of a large boulder. He was horribly filthy, covered in mud, his clothes in tatters. Never mind that the mud had probably saved his life. A harder landing would have seen him with a broken leg, if not worse. Christoph breathed hard against the simple exertion o
f walking, the uneven ground of the shale beach complicating his limping gait. With luck, Pendennys had perished somewhere nearby. But he was not interested in Pendennys at the moment. He wanted to find Lilya and when he did he’d take the diamond from her.
Malicious images filled his mind at the thought of retrieving the diamond. The bag had still been in her hand when the cliff had collapsed. He’d take the diamond and then he’d make her pay. He’d strip that bitch piece by piece of her clothing, of her dignity, making her suffer until the diamond had nothing left to hide behind. Then, if it behooved her sensibilities, she could crawl naked to the road. No less than she deserved for the troubles she’d put him through.
A dark shape lay close by. He hobbled towards it. Lilya! He was greedy in his reward. She was not conscious. Perhaps she was already dead. His revenge would be diminished, but his retrieval would be efficient. His ankle pained him, making balance and walking difficult. He straddled her, carefully steadying himself to stay upright as he searched for the diamond. There it was, the bag lay in her hand, her fist tight around it. Victory at last. All he had to do was reach out and take it.
Secret Life of a Scandalous Debutante Page 19
