Angel In My Bed (29 page)

When it was over, he sank against her, his chest heaving, and she was clinging to him. He'd ruined her pretty dress, he realized. The skirt was crushed beneath him, and he promised her he would buy her another gown. “Ten gowns,” he said, after she laughed, but there was somberness in her tone. And he was smart enough just to let her cry. “I would take you away from here,” he said, pulling her against him.

She did not ask why he had yet to tell her about his visit last night with Kinley and Ravenspur. “You didn't come to the cottage last night.”

“I came here.”

“And sought out the locket. Why?”

His hand smoothed the tangled hair from her face. “Kinley asked about it.”

“They found the tunnel,” she said, her mouth pressed against his shoulder.

“I know.”

“What are we going to do, David?”

“I'm going to get you, my son, and everyone else out of here.”

Suddenly rising on one elbow, he looked toward her sitting room, leaving her staring at him. Then she heard what had drawn his attention. A horse was approaching at an urgent pace. David was already out of bed, pulling up his trousers.

He walked into the sitting room to the window, and Victoria remained in bed, unwilling yet to move. “Bloody hell.” David was already shoving his shirttails into his trousers when he returned. “It's Ravenspur,” he said.

Less than fifteen minutes later, Victoria had washed and changed her clothes. David had told her to stay in the bedroom until he came to her. But she was finished letting other people protect her. She had meant it when she told David this
was her fight. After combing her hair, she'd pinned it in a chignon, and flung a red knit shawl over her shoulders. Clutching it tightly, she followed the sound of voices as she descended the stairs.

David had taken Lord Ravenspur into the bookroom and closed the door. Rather than eavesdrop, she entered. Both men stopped talking and turned.

David stood near the window, a hand on his hip, his eyes stark as they found her. The second man beside him, she assumed, was his brother-in-law, and she paused. His gray eyes were even now assessing her.

He had the eyes of a hawk. Of a man who did not ask but simply took. A man who had just delivered some very bad news, she thought as David walked toward her.

“What happened?” she asked when he pulled her to his side.

“Nellis Munro was murdered sometime last night,” His Grace said when David would not, or could not reply. “It seems your husband was the last person to see him alive. A warrant has been issued for his arrest.”

“D
id you or did you not go to the town house last night?” Kinley threw David a scornful glance, his eyes amplified behind his spectacles.

“Obviously you know that I did,” David said.

“Witnesses claimed you threatened to kill Mr. Munro. You ordered him out of the town house,” snapped Kinley. “Did you see him later?”

“Witness. I saw Agatha. And I
was
angry. But not for reasons you think. Does anyone want to tell me where Pamela is?”

“Her room was not all of a piece. As of now, you are also a suspect in her disappearance as well.”

“This is bloody rich and you know it.”

Rain pebbled against the window behind him. Already Moira had lit the lamps in the room against the approaching night. Ravenspur faced him from across the room. “I have to ask this,” Ravenspur said, having patiently listened to Kinley
interrogating him for the last two hours. “Did you go to Mrs. Rockwell's bedroom last night?”

“Ian and Pamela are married?” Meg quietly asked.

“Yes,” David said to her, sitting with her hands clasped on the chair in front of him, then looked at Ravenspur. “No, I did not go to her bedroom. Yes, I have been in her bedroom before and she has been to mine. I had a room in the town house.” He raised his eyes at the ceiling at the banality of the next statement. “No, nothing ever happened.”

“Pamela's servants say otherwise.” Kinley had the good grace to look embarrassed. “Someone of your description has been seen there frequently—”

“Do you think it's possible that man could be Faraday?” David sat with his arms folded, leaning against the desk, half listening to Kinley and Ravenspur only because respect bid him to do so.

He was looking at Meg. Her eyes on his, she had said little since Kinley's arrival, and he'd listened helplessly as she endured insinuations that he was Pamela's lover, and that he had snapped Nellis's neck last night in a fit of jealousy, which was laughable if the whole thing had not been so bloody tragic.

But whatever Pamela was, he
had
been at her town house in the middle of the night. He
had
ordered Nellis to leave. Someone else had been in the town house waiting for her when he was there. Pamela had practically thrown him out the door, he realized. “Have you considered that had Nellis gone with Pamela to her room last night as planned, he would have been killed there?” David asked. “Someone clearly wanted him dead.”

“We need to find her husband,” Ravenspur said.

“Ian hasn't been seen since yesterday,” David replied. “He left after going into the tunnel. Something must have
happened. I need to go down there and find out what it was he saw.”

“No, you don't, David.” Meg rose and shook out her skirts as she looked at Ravenspur. “My husband came home angry last night. He wouldn't tell me what happened. I should have pressed for more answers.”

David shifted his gaze in disbelief but she looked away from him. Red flags brightened her cheeks. “He wanted me to go away with him,” she continued.

“What are you doing, Meg?”

“Telling the truth for once,” she said in an uneven voice. “Look in his pocket. He has my locket. We were going together to find the treasure.”

“Bloody hell.” Kinley set down the drink. “Is that true?”

Meg saw the furious expression flicker across his face and folded her arms. He could see hurt and fear in her eyes and knew what she was doing, damn her. “It's all true,” she said. “I feared he might even try to kidnap me away from this place.”

The corners of David's mouth tilted. “Did you now?”

“Check his pocket,” she said. “I'm telling the truth.”

David denied nothing. But telling anyone that Colonel Faraday had made contact with her that morning would confirm Kinley's allegations that she was working with her father. “You're playing a dangerous game, Meg,” he quietly warned.

“I play no games, David. You've always known me for what I am.” Tilting her chin, she gave Ravenspur her full attention. “My father contacted me this morning. David wanted to protect me. I think he believes he can still save me. He has an unrealistic picture of the situation. Do you not think so?”

Ravenspur looked at her closely and said, “I know what he's asked for on your behalf.”

“Then you understand that if it isn't granted, I won't allow him to sacrifice his future and that of my son. I won't.”

David came to his feet. “Don't even think about removing me, Ravenspur.”

“Do it,” Meg demanded. “I don't trust him. He…he—”

“Is in love with you?” David asked, pulling her around and looking into her eyes, willing her not to turn away. “I didn't kill Nellis, Meg.”

Tears welling, she shook her head. “This is my fault,” she told Lord Ravenspur, her eyes pleading. “My father will kill him. I don't want David here.”

“That's unfortunate, Meg. I'm not leaving. And you still aren't getting the locket.”

“Let go of me!” Her eyes flashed. “You are the most infuriating man I have ever known. I won't forgive you your stubbornness this time.”

Whirling in a flurry of lavender silk, she nearly made it to the door before David intercepted her departure. “You're not leaving, love.”

She tried to twist away from him. “Let me go.” When she spoke again, her voice was broken. “Please,” she whispered.

David turned with her in his arms, his chest heavy. Ravenspur and Kinley were watching him, and he wrapped Meg to him as if that would shield her vulnerability from them. He didn't want her so exposed and sought to protect her. “You said Nellis had struggled and had blood on him?” he asked Ravenspur. “I'm wearing the same clothes I was wearing when I left here yesterday. Would you not agree, Meg?”

She wrenched her chin away. He merely pulled her along
the length of his body. “Would you not think if I fought Mr. Munro they would be bloody or torn? Where are my wounds?” He held up his hands and turned them over. “No sign of trauma here. I am guilty of nothing but a moment's rashness for going to the town house in the first place.” He looked into Meg's eyes. “No one is taking me away from you. I did not kill Nellis.”

“A man came here six months ago asking questions about the lady doc.” Sheriff Stillings stood outside the doorway. His wet cloak opened to reveal a heavy truncheon hanging from his belt. “Asking if she had lived in Calcutta before coming here. When we did not hear from him again, I assumed he had not found what he was looking for and left.” He looked at Meg. “Except I knew you were from Calcutta. Munro got it in his head to do his own investigating.” Stillings assessed David next. “He had his neck broke, like my men did when we found them on the old drover's trail after the storm. Who knows how to do that? Kill so efficiently, my lord?” His brown eyes did not waver, and his smile turned unpleasant. “I've only seen one person fight with that kind of skill.”

Meg took a swift step in front of him, but David held her back, his fingers wrapping around her arm tightly enough to warn her that she was finished fighting his battles for him.

“Whatever your nature, you've brass for bollocks, lordship,” Stillings said. “Maybe even ballsy enough to walk into a room full of cutthroats with the promise of riches and walk out alive.”

David's mouth stretched into an unsmiling grin. “If a man were to do something so foolish, the last thing I'd expect is to see him back in your town.”

“I have a dozen men outside and a warrant for your arrest,” Stillings said mildly. “There are not any of us around here
that will be missing the magistrate, but if whoever killed him killed my men. I want to find him.”

Stillings looked past David to Meg. “You once came to me for help.”

“I did.” Her voice was a whisper.

He stepped into the room, his boots muddy. He carried a rifle in his hand. “You are looking for the tunnels, my lord. I came up from the river. This is what I found beneath the church.”

David took the Enfield. He held it, stock high to the light, and traced the faint indentation of a single letter once burned in the stock. David handed Ravenspur the rife as he looked over at Stillings. “Will you show me where you found this?”

“The letter R?” Ravenspur asked.

“Rockwell?” Kinley took the rifle and turned it over in his hand. “This rifle belonged to Ian Rockwell's father.”

David pulled Meg to a more private distance. He cupped her chin so she could not avoid his gaze. “You've done your job here. Now let me do mine.” He looked past her at Ravenspur. “I intend to clean out the caves. Blakely should be here soon with my son and ward. I need you to get my family somewhere safe until this is over. Telegraph Halisham or New Haven. Have them hold the train tomorrow if need be. We can be there by early in the morning if we leave tonight.”

“You can hold the train?” Meg asked.

“No, but Ravenspur can.” He wedged her hair behind her ear. “Pack only what you and Nathanial will need. I'll be back as soon as I can.” To Kinley, he said, “You can arrest me later.”

 

“You can arrest me now,” Victoria said after David and Stillings rode out of the yard.

Outside, she heard the jangle of a carriage and harnesses
and knew Blakely was returning from the cottage. She planted herself in the doorway. Ravenspur could not leave the bookroom without walking over her.

“My lady.” He folded his coat over his arm and waited for her to move out of the doorway. “With all due respect—”

“There isn't any pardon for me, is there?” she asked him.

When no answer was forthcoming, she lifted her chin and ignored the burn behind her eyes. “I wasn't lying when I told you David wants to take me from here. I won't let him do something noble and treasonous to prevent the inevitable.”

“What do you suggest that we do?” Lord Ravenspur asked.

“I'll go with Kinley. As far away from my family as possible.” She pulled her shawl tighter. “My father has gone to ground. You won't catch him unless you lure him into the open. After all, he thinks I have something he wants. If I'm not here and there is no one to play with, he will come after me. When he does, I don't want to be anywhere near my family. David won't catch him unless I am the bait.”

Nathanial burst through the front door. Water dripped from his hat. He saw her standing in the hallway and ran to her. “Do we have to go away, Mother? Do we?”

She looked over her son's head at Bethany. Removing a soaked pelisse, she raised her head. She wore a periwinkle blue traveling garment. Her eyes, so like the sky in summer, wavered only slightly as she joined them.

“Is Sir Henry not with you?” Victoria asked.

“He could not abide the carriage. The Shelbys will remain with him.” Bethany placed an arm across Nathanial's shoulders. “I told him I would help him pack his trunk. We're about to embark on an adventure. Aren't we, Nathan? He will be fine, Victoria.”

And never at that moment had she loved Bethany more.
“This is Lord Chadwick's brother-in-law.” To her son, she said, “Your uncle, His Grace, the Duke of Ravenspur. He is arranging a place for you to stay.”

Both Nathanial and Bethany raised their eyes to look at the tall imposing figure standing in the doorway. Bethany dipped into a curtsy. “Your Grace.”

“You are his ward,” Lord Ravenspur said, then shifted his eyes and knelt on one knee in front of Nathanial. “And you are my nephew. My name is Michael,” he said. “Uncle Michael. That is what your cousins call me.”

“Can I bring Zeus?”

Lord Ravenspur looked up at her. “A cat,” Victoria explained.

He laughed. “You and your Aunt Brea are cut from the same cloth. She loves cats. We have five. But don't you think Zeus would prefer to catch mice here and not be caged for the next few days?”

Victoria agreed. “He will remain and keep Sir Henry company.”

Lord Ravenspur came to his feet and bowed over Bethany's hand. “It was nice meeting you as well, Miss Munro.”

After Nathanial and Bethany went upstairs, Victoria raised a brow. “Five cats?”

“And they all sleep with us.”

She smiled then. Even if it wasn't true, it was an outrageous statement, and, though she sensed in him a will of ducal iron, not easily bent, the clear gray eyes betrayed a hint of charm, maybe even softness if she looked hard enough. She no longer wondered what kind of man he was within the arms of his own family. Or whether her own family would be safe with him.

“My lady—”

“Victoria,” she said. “My name is Victoria, Your Grace. Few know me by any other. Since we are related, I would prefer you call me Victoria.”

“I haven't gotten used to calling Donally, Chadwick.”

“I love him, Your Grace,” Victoria said before Lord Ravenspur could turn away, and she would never be able to say to him again what she wanted to say now. “I need his family to know that and not judge me. I want them to accept our son.”

“Victoria.” Lord Ravenspur shrugged into his coat as she walked him to the front door. “David would never forgive me if I did what you asked me to do.” He pulled on his gloves. “I trust you'll go upstairs and pack instead? If I'm to get to the telegraph office, I need to leave.”

“But I can't—”

“You're going to London, Lady Chadwick.”

She remained on the threshold as he jogged down the steps into the rain and out of the enclosed yard. A man stood beside his horse picketed near the fence. Lord Ravenspur spoke to him, then mounted. She was surprised he had not arrived by carriage. As he rode out, she looked through the darkness toward the church. An eerie luminosity colored the sky. A hundred lantern lights had caught the moisture in the air and set the night aglow.