Come the Night (The Dangerous Delameres - Book 1)

by Skye, Christina

  The directness of the question stole Silver’s breath. She felt her cheeks flame. Was it so obvious? Did she wear her heart on her sleeve for all to see?

  She looked down, her eyes locked on the smoky teal expanse of the carpet. “It’s very complicated, Your Grace.”

  “Love is always complicated, my dear,” the old woman said softly. “What about that aggravating grandson of mine? Does he love you too?”

  A faint smile played over Silver’s lips. “He has gone to great lengths to assure me that he does, Your Grace.”

  “If so, then it’s the first time the boy’s shown a shred of common sense.” She reached out and brushed her fragile fingers over Silver’s. “From the moment I saw you and your brother standing there in that shop, I knew you were special. Almost — yes, almost as if I felt Luc calling out to me.”

  She brushed at her eyes and then cleared her throat quickly. “So he’s really alive. How did the rascal look? Was he well? Did he ever speak of us? And why did he never try to contact us?”

  Silver’s fingers twisted in her lap. Where was she to start? Luc had chosen not to tell his family of his fate, for reasons only he knew, and this was not her secret to confide.

  The story would have to come from Luc himself, in his own time and in his own way.

  “He is alive, Your Grace. And he is well.”

  “And?” The duchess’s fingers tightened on her cane. “Where is he, blast it! Why does he stay away from us?”

  “I — I fear I cannot tell you more than this. I believe Luc has his own reasons for not contacting you, and the whole story of his … experiences must come from his own lips.”

  The duchess’s mouth thinned with anger. Silver waited for a bruising setdown.

  And then the old woman sighed. “Vexing creature! But I can see why he loves you, my dear. You’re as stubborn as a stoat and with a sense of honor as nicely refined as Luc’s. Yes, it’s a perfect match you’ll make him. And I have no doubt that you’ll lead my grandson a very merry chase indeed.” Her eyes twinkled for a moment. “If you haven’t already.”

  The duchess touched Silver’s face. The old woman saw the love and longing there. She saw also the anxiety. “So he’s in danger, is he?”

  Silver nodded.

  “And he’s been in danger.”

  Again Silver nodded.

  “If only we’d known.” She shook her head. “But I won’t ask more, if you feel you cannot tell me. Just let me know what I may do to help. We all stand ready, at any moment, to assist him and you in any way that we can.”

  “I must go back to Kingsdon Cross. My brother and I have a message to carry to Luc as soon as possible. I would ask the use of a fast traveling carriage to take me there.”

  “I’ll have orders sent around to the stables,” the duchess said without the slightest hesitation. “But you cannot leave yet.” She filled another cup of tea and handed it to Silver. “Drink this. And then I mean to see you eat some shaved ham and another slice of that walnut cake before I’ll even consider letting you out of my custody.”

  Silver’s lips curved. “What terrible servitude.” Her eyes darkened. “All of you are far too kind.”

  “Nonsense,” the duchess said, rapping the floor with her cane. “The day has turned out monstrous pleasant. And why? All because of you and that brother of yours, Miss St. Clair. Luc is found. It’s we that should be thanking you, for indeed I can’t remember when I’ve had even half so much excitement.”

  ~ ~ ~

  “She did what?”

  Luc stood in a shadowed alley off the main street of King’s Lynn. His face was tight with anger as he glared at Connor MacKinnon and the small street boy beside him.

  “The boy just told you, Luc.”

  “So I did, guv.” The urchin seemed in no way frightened by Luc’s bellowed question. “Dead steady, she was. Stood right out in the street. Didn’t move, not by an inch. She just leveled her pistol at the bloke in the farm wagon hurtling straight toward her. He near to run her down, he did. But he couldn’t, not with me hanging on his neck,” the boy ended proudly.

  “But why?” Luc drove his fingers irritably through his hair. “What possessed her to such an act of madness?”

  The boy’s eyes narrowed. “Said the man in the wagon was some sort of traitor and had information she needed.”

  Understanding dawned in Luc’s eyes. “She didn’t wait. She bloody came after him herself,” he said wonderingly.

  “After whom?” Connor demanded.

  “Never mind.” Luc studied the street urchin. “And those gentry coves you spoke of, they took her off in a carriage, you say?” His voice hardened. “To a place called … Swallow Hill?”

  “Aye, there was a passel of ‘em gathered round her. Even the blooming prince hisself was there. Taking her to what they decided,” the boy announced cheerfully. “Said it was no more than an hour’s ride east, and that she needed to rest. Sorry to see her go, I was. She was a damned proper sort of female.”

  Luc clamped a hard hand on the boy’s shoulder. “You’re a good lad. I have no doubt that you saved her life.”

  The boy’s face reddened from this praise, and his eyes widened as Luc slid three gold pieces into his grimy fingers. It was more blunt than the little fellow had seen in all his ten years.

  “Anything else I can do for you, guv, all you gotta do is tell me. I’m entire at your disposal, so I am.”

  “There might be one thing.” Luc stared out at the crowded street, thinking hard. “That warehouse you were watching — I’d like for you and your friends to keep an eye on it while I’m gone. I’ll be sending someone soon, but meanwhile I’ll need to know everyone who goes in and out and exactly what they are carrying. Can you manage that, do you think?”

  “Manage it?” The boy snorted. “You can already consider it bleeding done, guv.”

  The urchin scampered off, excitement in every line of his wiry body, while Luc stood unmoving, staring at the street.

  “What do we do next?” Connor asked.

  “It seems that Silver and Bram have already set about doing my work for me. I’ll have to go after her. To Swallow Hill.” Luc cursed. “I wanted it finished, Connor. I wanted it ended smooth and sharp and forever, so I wouldn’t cause my family any more pain.” His hands clenched to fists.

  The heir to one of England’s oldest titles and a legacy that included three castles, five lesser estates, half a million acres in England and Scotland, and one of the finest art collections on the face of the earth looked numbly at his friend. “How can I possibly go back? You know what happened in Algiers, Conn. You know the things that happened to me there and the things that I was forced to do to keep Jonas and myself alive. How can I possibly face them again after that?”

  “You simply take one foot and put it down in front of the other. And you keep doing it, even though it hurts, even though the pain builds until you think you’re going to die of it. You just keep putting that one foot in front of the other and before you know it the hard part is over and you’re finally where you want to be.”

  Luc’s dark brow slanted up. “Are you speaking from personal experience, Connor MacKinnon?”

  “Aye,” the great broad-shouldered man said. “We all have our secrets, Luc. The fact is, our secrets make us what we are.”

  ~ ~ ~

  Despite the anxious protests of the duchess, India, and Ian, Silver refused to be deterred from leaving for Kingsdon Cross.

  “But you’re pale as a bedsheet, girl,” the duchess said irritably. “I don’t know what’s so important that you have to go racing off like this.”

  But Silver wanted to break the news of this meeting to Luc in person. There was also the urgency about the documents they’d stolen in King’s Lynn. Even though the rows of numbers made no sense to her and Bram, she hoped this would turn out to be exactly what Luc was looking for.

  Silver turned at the foot of the steps and swept a last lingering look over the gleaming walls
of Swallow Hill. She would remember this house always, she knew. She was just about to climb into the carriage when she heard the scuffle of feet behind her.

  “When do we leave?” her brother asked eagerly.

  “Not we, I. You are staying here to rest.”

  “And let you have all the fun by yourself?”

  Perhaps he was right, Silver thought. Other than being a little pale he didn’t look any worse for his adventure. He wasn’t wheezing and he didn’t seem overtired.

  She was still gnawing at her lip, trying to decide what was best to do when her brother took matters into his own hands. Reaching up, he shoved her into the carriage, jumped up behind her, and jerked the door closed.

  Outside on the drive the duchess stood unmoving, her hands tensed on her cane. “Come back to us,” she said huskily. “Come back to Swallow Hill. And please — bring Luc with you,” she finished.

  Silver nodded, feeling tears press at her eyes.

  And then Bram was calling to the coachman and the horses were straining and Silver was on her way, racing down the gravel drive toward home.

  As the green hills rushed past, Silver thought of Luc’s danger. She thought of evil men. And from there her thoughts turned to her father’s last journal entry, made the day before his death. Pain gripped at her throat as she remembered the hastily scrawled letters, so unlike her father’s usual elegant script.

  He had been harried. He had been in fear for his life.

  They were coming for him and he’d known it…

  There is no more time.

  They’ve finally seen through my tricks. The last shipment just came in, and I’ve delayed them as long as I can, but now they insist on examining it for themselves.

  Remember me, my dearest Silver. Remember the summer sun on the lavender and the sigh of the wind through our roses. Remember the good things and not how it all changed at the end.

  They’ll be here soon, but I can play this bitter game no longer. I grow tired, sorely tired. Tonight I thought I saw my dear Sarah again. She stood beside the honeysuckle and beckoned to me, smiling just as she always did.

  I knew then that it was my time.

  So I will not fight them when they come. You and Bram are safe with Archibald and good, honest Tinker. I pray that they will keep you so until you discover these words.

  A noise.

  They’re coming.

  No more time.

  My dear girl, kiss Bram for me. Know always that I love you…

  Silver stared out at the blurred landscape, shoving tears from her eyes.

  Bram watched her anxiously. “What is it, Syl? Is it something about Luc?”

  “It’s nothing, love. We’ll soon be home. Then everything will be fine.” And I’ll find them, Father. I’ll find out why. And I’ll see that they don’t win this time! But I have to save someone I love first.

  ~ ~ ~

  Ian Delamere’s eyes narrowed on the racing carriage.

  “What’s wrong, Ian?” his sister asked. “You look like a dog with a flea.”

  “I won’t stand for any granddaughter of mine talking in such an uncouth manner,” the duchess said, shooting India an irritated look.

  Since India knew her grandmother’s irritation had as much to do with Silver’s leaving as anything she had said, the girl merely smiled. “Oh, pooh, Grandmama. It’s true and you know it. Ian’s been looking cross as a crab ever since he heard about Luc. And I don’t see why, for it’s the most wonderful news imaginable. I don’t care what he’s done or where he’s been. I don’t even care that he hasn’t come to us sooner. All I want is to have him back.”

  “Well, boy?” The duchess looked at Ian. “Perhaps you’d better explain yourself.”

  The tall cavalry officer nudged a bit of gravel about with the beautifully polished toe of one boot. “Did you happen to see the other sketch in that notebook of young Brandon’s?”

  The duchess frowned. “No.”

  “Well, I did,” Ian said tautly. “I’d recognize that long face and arrogant mouth anywhere. It was Damian Renwick. And what I want to know is how Luc has gotten himself involved with such a scoundrel as Renwick.”

  India’s eyes widened. “This Renwick is not quite a nice person?”

  Her brother snorted. “You might well say that!”

  “It is all most wonderfully confusing, is it not?” India said happily. “But I think I’d better go change into something more practical.” She looked down at her elegant silk skirts with distaste.

  “Not into any more of your brother’s breeches, you won’t, young lady!” The Duchess of Cranford’s eyes flashed. “Your mother and father might be away in Venice, but you’re under my authority now and you’ll please remember that. When I say no riding breeches, I mean just that.”

  “I know you mean it, Grandmama.” India’s beautiful eyes flashed. “But I’m afraid I also mean it. Besides,” she added. “I have a feeling I’m going to need more practical dress.” She shot a significant glance at her brother, who was still staring down the drive. “Are you coming back in to finish your tea, Ian?”

  “In a moment. I have to send a message to London first.”

  “Do you know something else about this man Renwick, Ian?” The duchess was careful to delay her question until India had disappeared.

  “His breeding is impeccable, but for all that there’s something not quite right about the fellow. I heard talk about him over in the Peninsula, and while one hears a great deal of talk, this seemed to have a grain of truth to it. The man is devilishly shady, in fact.”

  “And you believe that Luc is somehow involved?”

  “I cannot say, Grandmama. I simply have a bad feeling about all this.”

  What Ian didn’t tell his grandmother was that he had had that sort of feeling only twice before in his life. Once had been just before he’d been ambushed and nearly killed in a mountain pass high in Spain. The other time had been just before he’d learned that his beloved older brother had vanished without a trace.

  Ian was far too experienced a soldier to ignore these flashes of intuition. He decided to send off a query to an old military friend of his in London and see what he could find out about Lord Renwick.

  It would have helped matters, of course, if Silver St. Clair had divulged Luc’s whereabouts.

  “Shall I follow her, Grandmama? It would be fast work for me to run the rascal to ground.”

  The duchess sighed. “No, she was most adamant. It’s a point of honor with her — and with him, too, I suspect. But if Luc feels he cannot trust his own family, then what hope is there?” She took Ian’s arm. “Let us wait a day or two. I believe Miss St. Clair will come to us if she can. Or she will send Luc himself.”

  If he’s able to come, Ian thought grimly, wondering just what sort of damnable coil his dashing brother had gotten himself into this time.

  ~ ~ ~

  They were just sitting down to an early dinner when a disturbance in the drive caught their attention. The duchess looked up in amazement a few minutes later as their white-haired butler burst into the dining room, his ancient, stooped body all atwitch.

  “It’s him,” Jeffers cried, white eyebrows awry. “Out there. Right — right now!” The servant looked overwhelmed.

  “Jeffers, have you been drinking again?” the duchess asked coldly.

  “I most certainly have not, Your Grace. But I soon shall be. Oh, yes, we all shall be!” With this obscure utterance the butler flung open the door to the dining room.

  A tall cloaked figure strode to the door. His boots were mud spattered, and his shoulders stooped with the strain of travel.

  But there was no mistaking those fierce cheekbones or the sensual tilt to his full lips.

  India was the first to find her voice. She stood swaying, one hand to her breast, blue eyes huge against her white face. “You’ve come!” she cried. “Oh, Luc, you great stupid man, you’ve finally come home to us!”

  ~ ~ ~

  Hidden
behind a row of towering willows, the stranger watched the coach race down the drive. An hour later he watched a single rider gallop toward the great house that dominated the valley.

  He stared after the mounted rider, his fists locked, his dark eyes burning. He thought about the endless floggings he’d had to bear after his British prisoner’s escape. He thought about the jeers, the abuse, the disgrace.

  But no more.

  “Soon, ferenghi, you will be mine. Then there will be only happiness. My honor will be whole once more, and all my estates returned to me. But for you, my enemy, there will be no happiness.” The gold ornament glinted at his ear, bright against his wind-burned skin. “Laugh now, Englishman. For when I have you in my hands again, you will know nothing but tears. There will be no rest from the hell I bring you then.”

  Yes, the trap was set.

  The noose was drawn.

  Soon the captain of the Dey’s elite personal guard would know the sweet, sweet taste of revenge.

  ~ 35 ~

  He stood in the doorway, looking out over the room.

  Nothing had changed.

  The mullioned windows still gleamed like diamonds and the priceless old carpets still lay jewel-like in the pooled sunlight.

  Swallow Hill.

  This was his inheritance and he had denied it. This was his family and he had turned his back on them.

  And now, despite all Luc’s vows, he was back. He knew that his return brought danger to them all, for there were men who would never relent until he was returned to them in captivity.

  But he didn’t think of that now. All he could think of was the pain on his sister’s face and the shock on his brother’s.

  “India,” he said softly. “You have grown up to be a true beauty. You blind my sight.”