Secret Life of a Scandalous Debutante

by Bronwyn Scott

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Where was Lilya? Beldon did not know how long he’d lain there, only that it was nearly dark around him now and he’d no doubt been unconscious for a while. Every bone ached, each movement a painful experience, but miraculously he didn’t feel anything was broken, just extremely sore and bruised. He knew only one thing: he had to move. He had to find Lilya. He’d pieced his thoughts together. The ground had given way beneath them. All of them had fallen.

  In the fading light, if he was careful, Beldon could lift his head and see the slope they’d slid down. He dared to push himself into a sitting position.

  Debris from the slide was all about him. Fear gave him strength. Where was Lilya? Beldon got to his knees, crawling across the rocks, panic seizing him. A glimpse of white against the dimming light drew his attention. He looked again. The white had moved. Perhaps the white of a man’s shirt? Focusing his gaze, Beldon could see it was a shape, half-crawling, half-stumbling towards something. A man— Christoph! Who else would be down here?

  The man crouched over the still shape, a depraved laugh reaching Beldon’s ears. Lilya! Beldon pushed to his feet, stumbling, rushing the short distance, a hoarse roar on his lips. Christoph turned too slowly to meet his onslaught. Beldon staggered into him with the force of an enraged bull. How dare the man lay hands on his wife! Beldon took him backwards, away from Lilya’s prone form.

  Agyros was in no better shape than he, and Agyros toppled easily in his surprise. But he had a strength born of madness and a knife to go with it. He scrambled away from Beldon, taking to his feet in an ungainly lurch. His clothes were ripped, his face dirty with mud, all veneer of the gentleman he proclaimed to be stripped away. His knife glinted dully in the fading light, a threatening menace.

  ‘Leave her be. It’s me you want.’ It was a bold lie with only a grain of truth. It was not revenge against Beldon that had driven Agyros to the brink of insanity. It was the diamond. He wanted nothing more than the diamond.

  Beldon gestured for him to come on, leading him away from Lilya. Oh God, why didn’t she move? ‘I’ve bested you from the beginning, Agyros. Last time pays for all—come, try your luck again against a real man. Even a coward can overcome an unconscious woman.’

  His taunts worked; Agyros stumbled towards him. Beldon’s eyes watched the knife hand. He would make Agyros come to him, make Agyros attack. If he fell, he doubted he’d get up with ease. He’d be too vulnerable on the ground and he wanted this done quickly.

  Christoph’s eyes gave him away a moment before he struck. Beldon let him come, side-stepping clumsily at the last, Christoph’s knife meeting only air. Christoph’s balance faltered, he stumbled, unprepared for the lack of impact, and fell.

  Beldon leapt forwards as best he could, ready to finish the fight, the heat of battle upon him. But the battle was already finished. Christoph Agyros lay unmoving on the shale shards of the rocks where his head had taken a fatal blow. Later, Beldon would appreciate what Christoph’s death meant: the war for the diamond was over for now. But he had little time to savour that victory. All his concern was riveted on returning to Lilya.

  True exhaustion threatened to claim him. The aches of his body returned with the ebbing of adrenalin. Sleep, unconsciousness tugged at him. Beldon fought it. He could not succumb yet. Lilya needed him.

  Beldon crawled to her side. She was pale. Deathly so. Beldon held a hand to her lips, searching for a tell-tale sign of breath. Please, please, please. Today was supposed to be the start of their lives. Not the end.

  There! His heart raced. He felt it again. There was breath against his hand, faint though it was. ‘Lilya.’ He called her name, running his hands over her body, searching for signs of ruin. She moaned. Ribs, he thought. Bruised or broken. He hoped not broken. A broken rib posed all nature of dangers, not the least being a punctured lung. Beldon shut his eyes, willing away that particular disaster.

  Lilya shivered. Beldon gathered her to him, satisfied she could be moved at least that far without causing more damage. Perhaps his warmth would rouse her. He didn’t know what else to do, what else he could do. His own strength was fading rapidly, his reserves dwindling to nothing. If he slept, it might very well be the end of them both. How long would they survive, mangled and cold at the bottom of a cliff? No one knew where they were.

  It was bitter consolation to know his plan had worked all too well. He’d meant to have them ‘die’, although not literally. Why now with Christoph defeated? The diamond safe? It was the cruellest of ironies that their escape was ensured, but they were powerless to take it.

  Beldon blinked hard against sleep. He could not give in. But one could only fight the inevitable for so long. Perhaps there were worse ways to die, he thought, slipping slowly towards oblivion, his arms tight about Lilya. After all, he’d die with the woman he loved in his arms and her enemy defeated.

  Wait. Were those lantern lights at the top of the cliff? It was quite possible his eyes were playing tricks on him. There they were again. Beldon knew the lights wouldn’t pick them up. He and Lilya were tucked too far back unless one looked directly over the cliff. He had to get himself out where the light would pick him up. But that meant leaving Lilya.

  It was time for the last decision. With the very last of his strength, Beldon crawled out on to the beach, clinging to one desperate hope. Val. Somehow Val had known to come.

  Valerian ranged the cliff road like a black lion, his cloak whipping about his boot tops in the wind. Where was Beldon? His gamekeeper had picked up the stallion running loose on the estate’s perimeter late that afternoon. That in itself was curious. What would Beldon’s stallion be doing so far from home unless Beldon had ridden him? Their estates were on opposite sides of Falmouth, a two-hour ride apart. But Valerian had the note from Beldon’s messenger and he knew danger was afoot. Had Beldon ridden out and met with foul play on the road?

  Philippa had been frantic with worry over her brother and he’d set out immediately in the hopes of putting her fears to rest—his fears, too. Surrounded by outriders carrying lanterns and guns, Valerian had combed the cliff road leading from Falmouth to Roseland to no avail. His frustration grew at the sight of the roadblock ahead. It would take daylight and the work of many men to remove the trees in the road. If Beldon had fallen into trouble on the other side, he would have no way of knowing. Waiting until daylight would be waiting too long.

  It appeared Randolph had jumped. Horse hooves picked up on this side of the barrier. It would have been one hell of a jump, even for Beldon’s magnificent hunter, but not impossible. There seemed to be no alternative. The road had given way on the edge. It didn’t seem likely the horse had gone around. Unless…unless the road had been there and then collapsed. That alternative was unthinkable.

  ‘Milord, there’s something you should see.’ One of the outriders gestured to the edge of the cliff where his other men were gathered.

  Valerian saw immediately what had garnered their attention. The slim thread of road not blocked by the trees had been washed away on their side. Valerian knelt, his keen eyes taking in road beyond the trees, the other side of the barricade.

  ‘Shine a lantern over there,’ he commanded. ‘I see tracks. Anyone care to verify?’ A second set of eyes verified his supposition. Valerian’s tracker’s mind went into action. The mud had dried, preserving the signs of hoof prints that went right up to the barrier and stopped. There were other signs, too. ‘We need to hoist a man over the trees. I think there’s more than one set of tracks.’

  After a long set of minutes, the man clambered back over the trees. ‘You’re right, milord, there’s three sets of horse hooves over there. Looked as if some of the horses might have been racing from the spacing of their steps.

  Valerian nodded, a horrifying scenario taking shape. Beldon had Lilya and, in light of the message, they were on the run, attempting to elude Christoph. But the road had been blocked and they found themselves chased to a dead end. />
  Beldon would have fought to the last. He knew his friend. Beldon would have tried the narrow path that had existed before the mudslide. Val knelt at the cliff’s edge and peered down, half-hoping, half-praying he wouldn’t find proof of his hypothesis.

  ‘Shine as many lights as you can down there. It appears there was a mudslide,’ Val said grimly. A moment later he rocked back on his heels. Oh God. There was a man lying at an awkward angle.

  A man whistled. ‘That’s one heck of a fall, milord. There won’t be any survivors.’

  No, it was not possible that his friend would have perished, pushed to reckless chances by Christoph and his gang. ‘Bring the rope,’ Valerian ordered. ‘I’ll tie it about my waist and make my way down the slide. If there are any survivors they’ll need our help.’ If not, he thought privately, he would bring the bodies home for Philippa and Constantine.

  Bright lights pierced Beldon’s eyelids. He was supposed to be dead. Was this the afterlife? It needed curtains.

  ‘Beldon?’

  He must have groaned out loud. He forced his eyes open. Philippa was there, standing over him, and, thank goodness, blocking out the light. Someone moved near his feet.

  ‘He’s awake.’ Philippa was talking to someone. Her hand went to his brow. ‘No fever.’

  ‘Good.’ Weight shoved off the bed and Valerian came to stand beside Philippa. Val looked terrible. Dark circles dominated his face.

  ‘I’m not dead?’ Beldon queried.

  Philippa smiled. ‘No, you’re quite alive.’

  Then he remembered his joy over the fact was conditional. He scanned their faces. ‘And Lilya?’

  Philippa reached for his hand and he knew a moment’s panic. ‘She’s fine. She’s resting in the next room.’

  ‘She’s awake?’

  ‘She’s just had breakfast.’ Val put a restraining hand on his chest. ‘Her ribs are bound, but not broken. You’re both lucky. If it had been winter, you wouldn’t have survived the elements. As it was, the unseasonably cold summer damp did you no favours. I want to know what happened.’

  ‘Christoph came after us,’ Beldon explained. Philippa fluffed his pillows and Valerian insisted on helping him sit up when he tried to do it on his own. Once settled to their satisfaction, Beldon launched into the tale, starting with the disaster at Pendennys and ending with the wild encounter on the road to Roseland.

  ‘It is as I expected, then.’ Val nodded when he finished. ‘Christoph is dead.’

  ‘I know. Christoph and I fought after the fall. He was…’ The horrible images of Christoph over Lilya were too strongly etched for him to articulate them comfortably. His voice broke. ‘I had to defend Lilya.’

  ‘You don’t need to say more,’ Val assured him. ‘You’re both safe now. Everyone can celebrate the fact that you’re alive.’

  ‘For a while,’ Beldon said cautiously. ‘That’s why we were on our way here.’

  ‘Whatever are you talking about?’ Philippa looked aghast, but already her mind was grasping the concept and its consequences.

  ‘Sit down, I’ll tell you. Val, get my cloak, the papers are in there.

  ‘There will be others who will come looking for the diamond. Our only chance is to convince all interested parties that the diamond has been lost to history. I mean for us to be lost at sea. When Lilya and I die at sea and her body is committed to the deep, the diamond is lost, too. It’s not as crazy as it sounds.’ Beldon shrugged. ‘It will fall to you, Val, to spread the word of our demise.’

  ‘It means you can’t go home again. You’ll be giving up Pendennys,’ Philippa said quietly. Beldon heard the unspoken message—you’ll be giving us up.

  He reached for his sister’s hand. For so long, they’d been all each other had. ‘It’s harder to do than you know, but Lilya will never be safe here, I see that now. I can’t doom her to a life of constant fear. I love her too much for that.’

  ‘As rightly you should, dear brother.’ Philippa’s eyes watered. ‘Oh dear, I’m such a watering pot when I’m…’ She paused, gathering her voice around her tears. ‘When I’m expecting.’

  Beldon understood. He would not see this baby. He would not stand in the church at St Just beside Valerian for the baptism as he had stood there for young Alexander. All the dreams he’d dreamed of young cousins romping the fields of Pendennys would not come to fruition.

  Valerian looked up from the papers he’d opened. ‘You’ve been planning this for a while,’ he said quietly, passing the papers to Philippa. ‘He’s named Alex heir. Pendennys will stay in the family.’

  ‘Does Lilya know?’

  ‘Yes. We fought over it. She wanted to leave. She wanted to set me free.’ Beldon glanced at Valerian. ‘I don’t know how you managed for nine years. I couldn’t even last an hour. When I discovered Lilya was gone, I simply walked out the door after her. I had thought it would be difficult to leave Pendennys when the time came. I had set aside provisions, made lists of instructions. But when the moment came, they didn’t matter. Only Lilya mattered.’

  Val took the papers from Philippa and folded them. ‘Now, let me help you up so you can go to Lilya.’

  In the end, they had only a short time to prepare for their next journey and say their farewells. It had been tempting to linger at Roseland, but there were already rumours of concern that Pendennys and his wife had disappeared during the recent storm. They needed to take advantage of that. Val put about the story Beldon had been called away on business.

  Perhaps short farewells would be better in any case. A few days later when Lilya could travel, a private boat waited at a quiet cove not far from Roseland to carry them to Ireland, where they would take passage across the Atlantic.

  The small group stood at the quay, the boat bobbing at the ready. There was nothing left to do but final farewells. Valerian asked for the fifth time if he had enough money.

  Beldon gripped his friend’s shoulder with affection. ‘Yes, for the last time, yes. I have plenty of money.’

  ‘This is not the life we planned.’ Val’s throat worked furiously.

  Beldon laughed. ‘I’ve learned a few things about plans, Val. They’re not all they’re cracked up to be.’ He glanced over at Lilya and reached for her hand. ‘If I’d followed my plans, I’d have missed love.’ He winked at Val. ‘I have it on good authority that love is one of life’s greatest pleasures. The only pleasure, really.’

  Val nodded and embraced him once, hard. Then Beldon hugged his sister. ‘Perhaps you’ll be back some day,’ she offered.

  ‘Ghosts can’t rise from the grave. But we’ll see you again. Perhaps you can come to us, wherever we are.’ It was the closest to consolation he could give her. Who knew? In the future it might be possible. He was done with plans for now. The goodbyes were settled.

  Beldon helped Lilya aboard. She was crying openly and he held her to him as the boat cast off. She would be all right. They would be all right. They had all they needed in each other.

  By implicit consent, they stayed at the rail, watching England fade behind them. Ireland lay before them. A new life lay beyond that. Lilya turned in his arms; the sea breeze had dried her tears and a smile spread on her face as she tilted her head up to look at him.

  They’d reached the open sea and England was lost to them. Lilya reached inside her cloak and drew out the velvet bag.

  ‘And so the Phanar Diamond slips out of history, supposedly,’ Beldon whispered.

  ‘Not yet.’ Lilya tilted her head with a smile. She reached into the bag and pulled out the sparkling gem.

  ‘Are you sure?’ Beldon asked, holding her gaze with steady eyes. Actually giving up the diamond had not been part of his plans. He’d never asked her to give it up. He knew what this gesture now must cost her, how much private soul-searching had gone into this act. He also knew what it could give her. It would free her if she chose but he would never require it of her. He loved her without conditions.

 
‘Yes, I am sure.’ With that, Lilya cocked her arm and flung the diamond into the sea. It made a splendid sun-shot arc as it flew briefly across the sky and then sank into the water.

  ‘It has no power over me any more. I think it would have made me as mad as Christoph in the end.’

  ‘And your obligations to your family? The Stefanov quest has ended now.’

  ‘And rightly so. Someone should have thrown the diamond into the ocean a long time ago.’ The look of peace on her face was unmistakable. A great burden had been lifted from them both. They were free now, both of them, and their family, too. Anything was possible.