by Laura Landon
Rachael saw the confused expressions on everyone’s faces. “What does that mean, Father?” Winnie asked. “What more can Mother want?”
“I don’t know, sweeting,” His Grace answered. “We won’t know until we meet with her.”
Mack Wallace nodded his agreement and he and Nick Stillman left the room. The Marquess of Sheffield followed.
The Duke of Townsend turned to his daughters before he followed Gideon from the room. “Winnie, stay here with Anne. I don’t want to have to worry about your safety, too.”
Winnie and Anne remained behind while she and Ben followed His Grace from the room.
A carriage was waiting for them as if Henley had anticipated that they might need one…
…to bring Claire home.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
The ride to the cliffs behind Shadowdown seemed to take forever. Rachael sat close to Ben and he nestled her hand snugly in his. At first, she thought the gesture was to soothe her. But more than once, his hands trembled against hers and she knew he was as fearful as she was.
“What do you think her demands will be?” Ben asked his father.
The Duke of Townsend sat opposite them, with Lord Sheffield beside him. Mack Wallace and Nick Stillman had ridden on ahead of them. They wanted to stay far enough away from the meeting site that Ernesta didn’t see them. Hopefully, they could capture her and this nightmare would be over.
The duke shook his head. “I can imagine several possibilities, but only one that I think is most likely.”
“Surely not to be welcomed back as if nothing had happened,” Ben said. The tone of his voice evidenced how impossible he considered that option.
His Grace shook his head. “No. I tend to agree with Mr. Wallace. I think Ernesta realizes that her life as part of London Society is over. Even if I agree to take her back, she can’t allow herself to trust me. I could change my mind about letting her remain free for the murders she committed and have her locked away. She knows that from now on I’m her worst enemy.”
“So what options are there for her?” Lord Sheffield asked.
“Ernesta thrives on attention. She needs power to survive, the same as we need air. She needs to feel in control. Therefore, I think she’ll try to set herself up where she can have all of these things again.”
“If not in London, where?” Ben asked.
“Paris.”
“You think she’ll leave England?” Ben asked.
“I don’t think she has a choice. She’s already shown us that she isn’t content to stay in the country. She needs city life to exist. She thrives on it. Therefore, her demand will be wealth. Enough to set her up in grand style in France.”
“Are you willing to give her what she wants?” Ben asked.
His grasp tightened around her fingers, and Rachael realized he feared his father’s answer as much as she did. Her heart stuttered. What if the duke wouldn’t give in to his wife’s demands? She would no doubt drain a large portion of his coffers. What if he wouldn’t allow it?
Rachael waited for His Grace to answer. She realized she was gripping Ben’s hand as hard as he was gripping hers. He rubbed slow circles over her fingers in an effort to help her relax.
“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” His Grace finally answered. “But yes, I’m willing to give her everything I own in order to get Claire back safely.”
Rachael looked at the Duke of Townsend through tear-filled eyes. “Thank you,” she said.
“Claire is my granddaughter,” he answered. “I have failed to keep my family safe in the past. First Rebecca. Then Gideon. I refuse to let anyone else for whom I’m responsible come to harm.”
A renegade tear spilled from Rachael’s eyes and she wiped it away with her already-damp handkerchief. Before she had the opportunity to thank her father-in-law, the carriage slowed, then stopped.
The footman opened the door, then lowered the steps. The Duke of Townsend dismounted. Lord Sheffield followed, then Ben. And she was finally able to step into the open. She searched the area for any sign of the duchess. Any sign of Claire.
The four of them stepped farther into the open meadow. Rachael couldn’t stop herself from looking from side to side. Ben did the same. But the Duke of Townsend and Lord Sheffield didn’t. They stood immobile, as if they understood the duchess’s tactics better. Instead, they remained focused on the grove of trees to their right. It was the only place the duchess could remain hidden until she was ready to appear.
The wait seemed endless. Other than the chirping of the birds in the trees and the soft wafting of the water from the rushing waves at the bottom of the cliff, they could have been standing in the middle of a deserted ballroom the morning after a huge event. The silence nearly echoed in Rachael’s ears. And then she appeared.
The Duchess of Townsend stepped out from a copse of trees opposite the cliffs and walked toward them. Her steps were regal, as if she were the queen of the land, and her husband and son and stepson were lowly peasants she’d come to grace with her presence.
She held her shoulders erect, her head high. There was nothing apologetic about the manner in which she approached them. Instead, she wore a look of confidence on her face, a victorious gleam in her eyes.
A smile was frozen on her face, but it wasn’t a smile anyone could call a pleasant expression. But rather a triumphant—sadistic grin.
“I’m impressed by such a welcoming committee,” she said when she halted in front of them.
She wasn’t close enough that it was possible for any of them to reach her, yet she was close enough that Rachael could see the cold glare of victory in her eyes.
“Did you think you would need reinforcements, Edward?”
“I would have preferred to bring the authorities, Ernesta, but your threats to my granddaughter prevented that. Where is she?”
“Did you think I would bring her with me?” the duchess answered. “I’m not a fool, you know.”
“Where is she?” His Grace repeated. His tone was harsh, his words a blatant demand.
The duchess glared at him with a reproachful contempt in her eyes. “Far enough away from here that you will never find her.”
A painful pressure seized Rachael’s heart. She wasn’t going to get her child back yet. She didn’t think she could survive the pain of failure.
As if Ben knew that she was dying inside, he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close to him.
“Mother, please,” he said. “Don’t do this. Give Claire back. She’s just a babe.”
The duchess laughed at her son. “Oh, don’t tell me you’ve developed a fondness for the child? Not you, Benjamin. Don’t you know that allowing yourself to care for anyone is a weakness? Especially children.”
“You don’t mean that, Mother. You cared for us. I know you did.”
“You imagined I did, Benjamin. Because that is what mothers are supposed to do. And it’s true I tolerated you. But I hardly cared for any of you.”
“What about the girls? Did you feel nothing for them either?”
The duchess hesitated. “Perhaps I cared for them a little. It’s difficult for a mother not to when she can see parts of herself in her daughters. Especially Anne. She’s such a beauty. She inherited so many of my same characteristics.”
The duchess paused, then waved her hand through the air. “But enough of that. It’s your father I came to see. Not you. And especially not the son of the woman who caused all my troubles.”
The duchess assessed Lord Sheffield with as much vile hatred as Rachael had ever seen. To see such loathing in anyone’s eyes was something she never thought she’d witness.
“Aren’t you interested in what I want, Edward?”
“All I’m interested in,” His Grace answered, “is doing what I can to hold you accountable for the misery you’ve caused me and my children.”
“I’m afraid that won’t be possible,” she said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “I have no intention of allo
wing you to banish me like you tried to do before. Or of allowing you to seek revenge for any perceived injustices you think I’ve committed.”
“Make your demands then, Ernesta. What is it you want?”
“First of all, I will have an open bank account that never runs low on funds. I refuse to worry about anything as inconsequential as money matters. Second, I want your word in writing that you absolve me of any wrongdoing you imagine I have done. And finally, I want your word, in writing, of course, that you will never seek to divorce me.”
Rachael watched His Grace’s knuckles whiten with each demand the duchess made.
“You are worried about a divorce?” the Duke of Townsend asked as if he found that the most offensive of Ernesta’s demands.
“I refuse to be humiliated,” she said. “My name and title are very important to me.”
Before the words were out of the duchess’s mouth, the Duke of Townsend bellowed a gust of laughter. “You are insane,” he said as if confirming a fact. He took a step toward her, then another. “You have murdered two innocent people and attempted to murder a third, and you refuse to allow me to divorce you because you are worried that you will be humiliated? You are more than insane! You are—”
“Stop!” the duchess yelled. “Don’t you dare speak to me in such a manner. You know nothing of what I endured living in her shadow! Do you think I didn’t notice the favoritism you showed her son over mine?”
“No, Mother,” Ben shouted. “That’s not true. Father never favored Gideon.”
“Of course he did,” she countered. “If he hadn’t favored that bitch’s son, he would have groomed you to be his heir. Instead, he refused to admit that Sheffield was inferior to you. He refused to face the reality that Sheffield wasn’t capable of stepping into the shoes of a duke. Even when he suffered from those disgusting seizures.”
The duchess took several angry steps to her right, then turned and retraced her path.
While she was distracted with her ramblings, Ben nodded for Lord Sheffield to step away from them.
Sheffield slowly moved to his left.
When there was a greater distance separating them, Ben released his grip from around Rachael’s waist and inched toward his mother.
Rachael knew what he intended. He wanted Gideon to distract the duchess long enough that he could close the gap that separated him from her without her realizing what she was doing. He thought that perhaps he could reach her.
Rachael wanted to pull him back. Even though she didn’t see evidence of the weapon Her Grace had fired before, that didn’t mean she didn’t have one with her. But Ben was already too far away from her to reach him. Too far away to bring him back where she could keep him safe.
“My error was,” the duchess continued ranting, “that I didn’t complete my plan when I should have.” She leveled the Marquess of Sheffield a hateful look. “I allowed you to live too long.”
“Why didn’t you kill me sooner?” he asked, taking another step that drew her vision away from where Ben was moving toward her.
“Because I knew your father would demand we go into mourning for at least a year, if not longer. And he would expect me to mourn you, too. I couldn’t do it! Not for you! And I couldn’t abide the thought of being away from London for that long. Especially in that desolate house he kept as a shrine to her memory.”
The duchess stopped pacing and shifted her vile focus on her husband. The expression on the Duke of Townsend’s face was one of disbelief. Rachael knew he was in a state of shock from her ranting.
“Do you know he still has a chest of your mother’s things?” she barked, letting her icy glare move from father to son. “He keeps the chest hidden in a special room he’s made off limits to the staff, except for them to clean once a month.”
“I haven’t kept the room or the items in it as a shrine to Rebecca’s memory,” His Grace said, “but as keepsakes to give to Gideon to pass down to his children someday.”
“Don’t mention her name!” the duchess screamed. “I detest the sound of it!” She slashed her hand through the air and spun on the duke with her viperous words. “I cannot abide hearing it.”
Ben took advantage of his mother’s tirade to take several more steps toward her.
“Enough, now!” she said in a harsh tone. “I’ve spent as much time bartering with you as I intend to. You’ve heard my demands. Do we have an agreement?”
“What about the babe?” His Grace asked. “Surely you don’t expect me to accept your demands without having the babe back?”
“Of course I do. I’m not a fool, Edward. You’ll not get the child back until I have an account set up in my name and I have my freedom guaranteed in writing.”
“But that will take days,” His Grace said. “Weeks.”
“Then I will give you a week. Exactly one week. But not a day longer.”
Rachael couldn’t stop a muffled cry from escaping. She couldn’t bear to be separated from Claire another day, let alone a week.
“Ernesta, no,” the duke pleaded. “I give you my word. You’ll have your money and your freedom. Just give us back the child.”
The only answer they received was a demented cackle that supposedly passed as the duchess’s laughter.
“Mother, please,” Ben said, stepping even closer to his mother. “Give Claire back to us.”
The duchess turned her attention to Ben, and for the first time, she noticed how close he was to her. And what a threat he posed.
“Step back, Benjamin. Don’t come any closer. If I don’t return to the babe within the hour, I’ve left instructions that she’s to die.”
“No!” Rachael cried. The duchess’s words caused a pain as intense as if a knife had been plunged through Rachael’s heart. But Ben didn’t step back. His reaction was to turn his gaze to Rachael, then lunge toward his mother.
Before anyone could react, the duchess pulled a pistol from beneath her cloak and fired.
Time seemed to stop. Rachael wasn’t sure who had been the target of the bullet. Whether it had been Ben. Or her. But that didn’t matter.
The bullet had struck Ben.
Except for the appearance of Mack Wallace and Nick Stillman when they stepped out from their hiding places in the copse of trees, no one moved.
Then, there was a rush of movement as the Duke of Townsend raced to Rachael’s side to shield her. To protect her in case the duchess fired again.
The Marquess of Sheffield moved toward Ben as he slowly sank to his knees.
“No,” Rachael cried as she struggled to free herself from the duke’s grasp.
“Don’t move!” the duchess screamed. “Don’t any of you move!” She waved the gun in her hand from one side to the other. “If any of you come after me that babe you’re so fond of will arrive on your doorstep with her throat cut.”
Rachael released a cry that ripped her heart out with it.
No one moved for several seconds. The Duke of Townsend held up his hand as an order for everyone to stay where they were.
The duchess waved the pistol from side to side. She didn’t try to escape, as if she knew no one would dare to approach her.
Rachael focused on where Ben lay motionless on the ground. She was desperate to go to him. Desperate to assure herself that he was still alive.
She lifted her gaze to dare Ernesta to shoot her too, but the duchess was gone. It was as if she’d disappeared into thin air.
Rachael pulled out of the Duke of Townsend’s arms and ran to Ben’s side. Her legs trembled beneath her. Her heart thundered in her breast.
She dropped to the ground at his side and prayed he wouldn’t be dead.
She wasn’t sure she could live her life without him. She loved him that much.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Rachael sat at Ben’s bedside and held his hand. The doctor had just finished digging the bullet from his shoulder and bandaging the wound. When he packed away the instruments he’d used, the Duke of Townsend showed him
downstairs, using the excuse that he wanted to offer the doctor something to eat before he left, seeing as how he’d most likely miss his own dinner by the time he arrived home. Rachael knew the real reason was that Ben’s father wanted to talk privately with the doctor. He needed the physician’s reassurance that Ben would be all right.
Gideon, Lord Sheffield, stood at the foot of the bed and watched the labored rise and fall of Ben’s chest with each breath he took. “Ben will be fine,” he said. “You heard the doctor. He’s young and strong. The bullet wasn’t deep. He’ll recover in no time.”
Rachael tried to smile at Lord Sheffield’s attempt to make her feel better, but instead of a smile, she was only capable of tears. “I know,” she said as she brushed away another tear that slid down her cheek. “I just can’t believe she would shoot him. What kind of mother would do something so horrific?”
The Marquess of Sheffield released a heavy sigh. “I’d like to say that I’m surprised, too, but I’m not. I have firsthand knowledge of her cruelty.”
“Ben told me what the duchess did to you. And to your mother.”
Lord Sheffield’s expression turned more serious. “I’m surprised you didn’t pack your bags and run from our family as fast as you could.”
Rachael took comfort from his words. “Your family is not the only one to have secrets, my lord. I live in a glass house, also. It would be quite foolish of me to throw the first stone.”
Lord Sheffield’s smile widened. “Remind me to tell Ben how fortunate he is.”
“You might regret making such an offer,” she said. “I might have need for you to remind him often.”
Lord Sheffield smiled, then turned his gaze to the other side of the room when the door opened.
The Duke of Townsend entered. “Has he stirred?” His Grace asked when he reached the bed. He stood opposite Rachael.
“Not yet,” Gideon answered, “but I don’t expect him to this soon. The laudanum the doctor gave him before he dug the bullet from his shoulder should keep him asleep for an hour or more yet.” Gideon looked at his father. “Where are Winnie and Anne?”
