Compromised Miss
Page 25
‘Luke…just look at this!’
Luke approached the child held high in his mother’s arms, turned astonished eyes to his brother, then back to the child.
‘Forgive me, madame.’ His voice was suddenly full of emotion. ‘For I see there is suddenly no doubt at all.’
Luke and Adam regarded the baby, beyond words.
The similarity in so small an infant was remarkable. Dark hair with the same curl at the ends. The eye colour was wrong, the child inheriting the vivid blue of his mother. But the long nose, the indentation of the mouth. When on being the object of such scrutiny the baby grinned, displaying a shallow indentation in one cheek, Luke felt delight and grief rise in him, almost enough to unman him.
‘What’s wrong? Marie-Claude demanded, enfolding her son protectively.
‘Nothing’s wrong.’ Adam chuckled as the child attempted to gnaw with toothless gums on his thumb.
‘No. Nothing wrong at all. Oh, God, Marcus. If only you had lived to see him…’ Luke murmured, touching his knuckle to the child’s soft cheek.
‘His name is Raoul,’ Marie-Claude stated with tears in her voice.
‘Welcome to the Hallaston family, Raoul.’ Luke spoke softly as he smoothed the dark hair. Then Luke bowed gravely to Marie-Claude de la Roche. ‘Forgive me, madame. I should never have doubted you. This is the best proof of all. You are a formidable lady—I can see why Marcus chose to wed you.’
‘Thank you, my lord.’ Marie Claude smiled at last. ‘You are most gracious. Forgive me if my temper was not as sweet as—’
The library door opened. George Gadie hovered irresolutely on the threshold, cap twisted in his gnarled hands.
‘George?’ Harriette saw trouble in his face.
‘The bastards! I’m right sorry, Cap’n Harry…’
‘What is it?’
‘The Ghost. The damned dragoons’ve fired Lydyard’s Ghost.’
‘The Ghost?’ Harriette’s face became as pale as death as blood drained. ‘No! Oh, no!’ Ruthlessly tearless, rigidly unmoving, yet beneath the control Luke saw the loss that wounded her far more painfully than the bullet. Rage, dark and relentless, surged within him. Even without proof he knew whose hand had fired the pistol. He knew who had alerted the Preventives. And Harriette had paid the price twice over. Luke’s blood heated, demanding vengeance for her.
Without a word he strode to the door.
‘Wait! Where are you going?’ Harriette’s cry stopped him, and he read knowledge in her face as she stretched out a hand. And Luke leaned close to feather his fingers, whisper-soft, over her cheek. Their bargain might be complete, but not quite. There was one more demand on him. He would strip bare the nasty little plot that had almost brought them all to ruin.
‘You know where I’m going, Harriette,’ he said, managing to keep the harsh temper from his voice. ‘There’s a debt to be paid here, and we both know who must pay it.’
‘No, you mustn’t. I’ll come with you.’
His voice softened. ‘No, my dear girl.’ The gentle statement of intent was frightening. ‘This is for me to finish.’
Chapter Thirteen
Still in the ruined coat and breeches of the previous night, Luke borrowed a horse from the stable and spurred towards Ellerdine Manor, mind set furiously on what he suspected. The rescue had been in jeopardy. Harriette had been shot. Harriette had lost her precious Ghost—and the blame lay at the feet of one man. Alexander Ellerdine, for some malicious reasoning of his own, had betrayed Harriett’s trust and threatened her life. If it was the last thing he did for her, he would bring Ellerdine to retribution. Alexander Ellerdine would not walk away untouched from his treacherous night’s work.
Habitual courtesy thrown to the winds, Luke leapt the steps of the Manor, flung back the door.
‘Where is he?’ he demanded of the startled manservant. Without waiting for a reply he made for the library where the door was ajar. He thrust it wide, strode in.
There sat Alexander Ellerdine at ease, boots propped on the edge of his desk, a tankard of ale in his hand. For a second Luke saw a dark uncertainty swim in his eyes, then it was gone and Alexander’s mouth curled in a sharp smile.
‘Venmore. I didn’t expect to see you here. Thought you’d be on your way to London by now with the widow.’
Luke covered the distance between them. ‘I want some answers.’
‘And what would they be?’ The smile widened. ‘I can’t imagine why you should think I can be of help.’
‘No?’ Luke advanced, anger balanced precariously. ‘Get up, Ellerdine. It’s even beneath me at this moment to strike a man sitting down.’
Alexander did not stir. ‘What’s this? A duel?’
‘An affair between gentlemen? No, by God. You forfeited that title last night.’
‘Insults, Venmore, will get you nowhere. Has Harriette sent you?’ The smile became sly.
‘No, she has not. At this moment she’s mourning the loss of her precious cutter. All because of you! The Preventives fired the Ghost. I presume that little detail was never in your plan, Ellerdine!’
Alexander frowned. ‘They fired it? No, by God…’ He recovered quickly enough. ‘What makes you think I had anything to do with last night’s misfortunes?’
‘You arrogant fool! Have you no sense?’ Luke growled. ‘Are you not aware that one of your bullets—I expect it was meant for me—hit Harriette instead? She could have died on that beach.’ And he saw the fingers tense around the tankard. That was what he had wanted to see. Luke’s grip on his temper tightened further as he inhaled against the urge to pick the man up and shake the truth from him.
‘You lie,’ Alexander snarled. ‘She is unharmed.’
‘How would you know?’ Luke taunted. ‘A scar along her ribs tells it’s own tale.’
‘No…’ Alexander struggled to his feet, eyes wild. ‘I would never have meant for that to happen.’
It was all the proof he needed. Springing forwards with a speed and lethal accuracy belied by his disheveled state, Luke aimed a fast right to clip Alexander Ellerdine’s jaw, another to his gut. There was no need for more. Taken by surprise, Alexander fell with a grunt to the worn threads of the carpet.
Luke stood over him. ‘It’s time we had a little talk, Ellerdine.’ Luke dragged him to this feet and thrust him back into his chair.
‘I’ve nothing to say to you.’ Alexander dabbed at the blood with his cuff.
‘I’m not beyond further violence, Ellerdine.’ Luke drew a pistol from his pocket, hooked up a chair with his foot and sat across the desk, leaning his arms on the polished surface, the pistol placed before him. He fixed Alexander with a cold stare.
‘I doubt you intend to kill me,’ Alexander tried a sneer, but failed.
‘Do you? I’m not so certain. At this moment there’s nothing I would like more than to put a bullet through your black heart, Ellerdine.’ The curve of Luke’s mouth was lethal. ‘But not yet. First I intend to take you to grovel at Harriette’s feet. She trusted you. She saw you as a man of honour. I’ll not have her deceived any longer.’ Luke’s eyes blazed with emerald fire. ‘So, Mr Ellerdine—let us start with what you were doing last night. When you should have warned Harriette that the Preventives were on the cliff…’
‘Your cousin has something to tell you, Harriette.’
Luke thrust Alexander bodily into the withdrawing room at Lydyard’s Pride, too aware of what colour there was leaching from Harriette’s face as she pushed herself to her feet. She had been sitting on the cushioned window seat, perhaps waiting for his return. All he wanted to do was to sweep her off her feet and carry her away from all this, but her self-possession held, and Luke curbed his impatience. There was no surprise in her face, only a sad regret. He feared he was about to make it worse for her, but she must know the truth.
‘Perhaps you should sit.’ His lips thinned. ‘Ellerdine has decided to come clean.’
Harriette sank back to the cushions. Her cousin was worse f
or wear with a fast-developing bruise to his chin and a cut on his lip. His clothes and hair were disheveled, his manner uneasy, but then he looked little different from Luke, who still bore all the ravages of the previous night. Except that Luke’s face was unmarked, but for the stamp of barely repressed temper in the lines at eyes and mouth.
‘He said you were injured.’ Alexander’s first words, eyes wild, as he came across the room towards her, attempting to take her hands in his.
‘Yes, I was hit by a bullet last night. Fortunately not fatally, as you see.’ Harriette kept her voice level and held her hands up to bring him to a halt. Whatever Luke had discovered, she knew where the blame must lie. Now she must go through the pain of hearing it from her cousin’s lips. ‘Tell me about last night, Zan. Tell me what happened. Why it went so appallingly awry.’
‘What do you want to know?’ He shrugged. ‘Everything worked out well in the end.’
‘No, it did not, Zan! I lost the Ghost!’
‘I regret that,’ he admitted. ‘It’s a serious loss to us.’
‘A serious loss? Alexander, I am not a fool. The signals were wrong. There was no help on the beach to get the cargo away, no protection for us. Shots were fired—deliberately at us, not as a warning. And you were absent through the whole débâcle. How can you have left us with the dragoons almost on the beach and the lamp in the Tower signaling a clear run? Was it a mistake?’
‘Tell her the truth, Ellerdine.’ Luke spoke without inflection, but the threat was evident. He placed a loaded pistol on a dusty side table.
‘Very well. Why not?’ Self-assurance slid like a mask over Alexander’s face and he fisted his hands on his hips. ‘Did I make a mistake? Of course not! There was no mistake—only a little careful planning instead, for the future of smuggling from Old Wincomlee. For a closer and richer liaison with Monsieur Marcel and Port St Martin. Fame and fortune, Lydyard’s Pride as our home, yours and mine, Harriette, restored to its former glory. Captain Harry and Alexander Ellerdine, hand in glove, with more gold in our hands than you could ever believe.’ His smile was bright, confident.
‘You informed on us,’ Harriette accused. ‘You lit the lamp and lured us in. Why would you do that? We could have all been killed.’
‘No chance of that. Not from the Preventives. I made a deal with Captain Rodmell. Some timely interference from the Revenue and I promised to ensure a number of bales and barrels fell into his hands. He was more than willing with such a coup to parade before his superiors. And that might not be his only prize. I offered him the chance of one of even greater value…’
Harriette’s face was pale in the morning sun, drawn from lack of sleep and sharp discomfort. Now Luke saw her muscles tense, the groove between her brows deepen, but she did not flinch. His gut churned, his hands clenched as if they were around Ellerdine’s throat, but he would let it all play out. She deserved to hear what her cousin was capable of.
‘But I don’t understand why you would do something so irresponsible. Why would you ensure the failure of a run with certain capture? George and Gabriel and the rest to be hauled before the magistrates—’
‘Not George and Gabriel so much as the Earl of Venmore! A perfect plan. To get rid of your entirely superfluous husband, of course.’ Alexander grinned with irrepressible confidence, wincing at his hurt lip. ‘His presence in your life harms the whole enterprise we had developed, and you know it. Since you wed him you’ve taken no part in the runs. He takes you away, keeps you in London, threatens to take you to The Venmore. He would force you to give up the Trade. I need your connections, Harriette, your facility with French.’
He took a step towards her again, his face full of appeal. ‘I wasn’t sure you’d part from him for good, but I need you. I need you here. I need the Pride, Harriette. Without you my schemes are put on hold. So I needed to remove Venmore from the scene. A little humiliation for the noble Earl and his equally noble brother, their names smeared as common smugglers when they faced the local magistrate. The fisherman of Old Wincomlee would be released soon enough with a heavy bribe from me, but what a prize the Earl of Venmore and his brother would make. That would spur Venmore on his way to cut his connections with you. Think of the scandal.’ Alexander laughed ruefully. ‘How unfortunate my careful plotting failed. The Hallaston family would never hold up its head again.’
‘So it was all to bring me back to Lydyard’s Pride.’
‘Of course. Venmore would be more than glad to be rid of you when his name was dragged through the gutters by the London gossip-mongers.’
Harriette looked storm-struck. Luke could see her fingers clench, white knuckled. Even knowing of the involvement of Alexander Ellerdine as he did, such a depth of scheming was terrifying.
‘Tell her about the gunfire, Ellerdine,’ Luke prompted.
‘I think I already know.’ Harriette stared at Alexander in horror. ‘Was it you? They were pistol shots, and it was not Captain Rodmell. Who were the bullets meant for, Zan? Were they intended for Luke? You said you would rid yourself of my husband. Or were you aiming at me?’
‘By God! I would never harm you, Harriette. I love you!’
‘So it was Luke.’ Harriette turned her face away. ‘I can’t believe you would do something so cruel just to bring me back here.’
‘Enough of this. End it, Ellerdine,’ Luke snapped, conscious of Harriette’s distress.
‘Yes, I fired the pistols,’ Alexander snarled. ‘Yes, I aimed them at Venmore. Just in the way of a friendly warning.’ He snapped his fingers with callous unconcern. ‘It’s your own fault, Harry. If you’d let me use the Pride in your absence, I wouldn’t have been driven to this. But you wouldn’t, would you? You refused. And when you discovered my cache of contraband in your withdrawing room, you were quick to announce your displeasure. But I need the Pride, and I need it now.’
The muscles in Alexander’s jaw tightened with implacable will, bitterness writ clear. ‘My mother should never have left the Pride to you, Harriette. It should never have passed out of my hands. I’m as much a Lydyard as you, but she would have it that it should stay in the female line despite all my protestations. So she did as she wished.’ He lifted his hands in what might have been charming self-deprecation if the naked ambition was not so clear. ‘So there you are, Harriette. I need you. And I need the Pride. Its value is inestimable to me and my plans for the future.’
‘I can’t believe you would kill Luke to get your hands on the Pride.
‘Venmore’s death? No, I didn’t seek that. I’m no murderer—but a well-placed bullet might encourage him to set you free!’ Alexander laughed harshly. ‘You don’t love him. What would it matter to you if he took a bullet in the arm? Look, little cousin. You wanted the truth, so there it is. I threw last night’s run to the dogs. Short-term failure, long-term gain. But we can still make it work together, you and I. With the Earl out of your life, we keep our heads down for a month or so to fool the Preventives, and then start up the operation again. Bigger and better than before.’ He slid a malicious glance towards Luke before returning to Harriette. ‘And when you are free of this travesty of a marriage—well, then you can wed me.’
‘You say that you love me, yet you would cause me such pain.’ The hurt in Harriette’s voice, in her eyes, was too much. Luke fisted his hands, nails digging into palms. He could not allow this to go on much longer. ‘I trusted you, Zan,’ Harriette whispered, tears glimmering.
It spurred Luke into action. He took Harriette’s arms and lifted her to her feet so that she could stand with him, sliding an arm around her to give her support, conscious of her frailty. ‘Are you strong enough for this?’ he asked.
‘Yes. I’ll not rest until it’s finished.’ Her reply was strong, despite the whiteness of her lips. ‘Not until we’ve heard the rest of Alexander’s plans for me and my home.’
Tense and watchful, Alexander glanced at Luke as he chose his words with care. ‘Oh, I think I’ve said enough. And you’ve no proof that wou
ld sway a magistrate. It’s your word against mine, Venmore.’
‘True. But I think you did not confess all in your unburdening of your soul.’ Luke faced him. ‘Have you told my wife that it was you who informed me, man to man, of course, with no ill will intended, that she was a member of the despicable brotherhood of Wreckers? That you attempted to destroy our marriage from the very beginning?’
‘I did no such thing…’ His eyes cut to Harriette. ‘Harriette—you would never believe that of me.’
But Luke’s words were as smooth as polished steel and twice as deadly. ‘Your word against mine, Ellerdine. And I think my wife might question any pronouncements you make, after what she has learned today.’
‘You told him I was a Wrecker?’ Harriette asked, eyes wide. ‘How could you have implied that I was guilty of such an atrocity!’
‘What if I did?’ Alexander sneered. ‘Your noble husband was quick enough to believe you guilty.’
‘I did at first,’ Luke admitted. ‘To my eternal regret, I did. Because you supplied me with a wealth of accurate information that could be checked and verified—the wreck of the Lion d’Or. But I know that Harriette was not involved. And if she was not…’
‘So you’ll brand me the Wrecker? If Harriette is innocent, then I must be the guilty party—is that what you want me to say?’ Alexander’s mouth set in uncompromising lines. ‘You’ll not lay the blame on my shoulders, Venmore.’
Luke tightened his arm around Harriette’s shoulders as he felt her strength ebb against him and he addressed Alexander, grave as a hanging judge. ‘I have spoken with Wiggins about this. The lamp was not lit by Harriette that night.’
‘Then I suppose Wiggins did it. It would not be the first time.’
‘Who gave the order? Wiggins does not light it without direction.’
Alexander lifted his brows. ‘How would Wiggins remember? An old man too fond of the proceeds of our smuggling. He barely recalls his own name after a bottle of port!’
‘Wiggins remembers very well. Your lad, Tom, came to order the lamp to be lit that night. So Wiggins lit the lamp and it brought the Lion d’Or into the bay, on to the rocks.’