Chasing Eliza (28 page)

“
If I know Peter, as soon as the fog of grief eases he will be
heading out to search out Scraggan and won’t return until the man
is hanging from the gallows himself.” Edward sat up and cupped
Eliza’s chin in his fingers, his eyes hard and determined. “I will
be going with him. Not only-.” He raised a hand to stem the
protests he could see brewing in Eliza’s horrified eyes and
continued. “Not only because Peter cannot face this alone, with
only a rag-tag militia with him, but because I want vengeance too.
For all of the misery and pain Scraggan has caused you. I want the
spectre of this man removed from our lives once and for all, so we
can put him behind us and get on with our future.”

“
Edward, you have seen how many men there are. Scraggan has a
veritable army at his disposal. At each inn we have been to, they
have appeared. They have tracked us up and down the country
relentlessly. Fought and challenged us on every occasion. Do you
really think that a handpicked group of half a dozen men is going
to thwart someone like Scraggan? It’s suicide.” Eliza knew her
voice had risen to a near-shout but couldn’t stop the swelling tide
of anger that seemed to surge from nowhere. “I hate the man as much
as you do and believe me, nobody will be as happy as I to
see
him
swing
from the gallows. But you need a bigger army than the one Dominic
and Peter used before. They couldn’t catch him in Norfolk and he
wasn’t half as powerful as he is now. What makes you think you can
succeed now?”

Edward
sat up and returned her frown. “We will succeed because this time
we have a bloody good reason to need to see the man and his son
swing from the gallows. No man is beyond the law, including
Scraggan.”

A small
part of him felt a shiver of satisfaction that was she was so
concerned about his safety.

“
You’re going to get yourself killed. Then what? Hasn’t there
been enough death and destruction? What about Sebastian and Peter?
What will they do if they lose their younger brother? What will I
do? I cannot bury you too!” Eliza’s voice trembled at the image of
Edward’s body being carried into the house rose sharply in her
mind, and she shuddered against the tide of bile that threatened
once more.

“
I am not going to get killed. Eliza-.” Edward watched as
Eliza jumped off the bed and slammed out of the room.

He
wasn’t sure where she was going, but couldn’t run the risk that she
would run blindly out of the house and into danger. Although there
was numerous staff working at various locations around the house,
they didn’t know where Scraggan was based and couldn’t run the risk
that he was hiding on the immense grounds.

He
briefly thought of Amelia’s abduction from the grounds of Tingdale
Hall and how easy it had been for her captors to spirit her away
without being challenged. It was enough to make him lunge from the
bed and tear out of the room after her.

“
Eliza?” Edward called, taking the stairs two at a time until
he reached the hallway. “Eliza?”

Dominic
appeared in the Library doorway, a dark scowl on his
face.

“
Have you seen her?” Edward demanded, stalking past towards
the rear of the house.

“
No, when did she leave?”

“
A couple of minutes ago - she was upset.” Edward snapped,
pushing open doors to several rooms as he passed, making his way
systematically to the rear of the house.

He
pushed through the large oak door marking the start of the
servants’ corridors and paused. There at the far end of the
corridor on the left, Eliza stood staring blankly into one of the
rooms. Edward cursed fluidly.

It was
the room Jemima was lying in.

His fear
as replaced with worry as he slowly approached her. Even from
several feet away, he could see her visibly trembling with the
tumult of emotions she was experiencing. Despite her earlier
sobbing, it disturbed him that there were no tears now. Just the
blank stare of someone who had absorbed too much shock and horror
to know how to deal with the emotions she was faced with. She
turned to stare blankly at him as he approached and offered no
protest when he hauled her into his arms, pulling her tight against
his chest to block out the cold reality of her sister’s
demise.

He
didn’t need to look into the room to know Jemima lay on her back on
the only piece of furniture in the room. Her arms folded in peace
across her chest, silent and motionless in death’s firm
hold.

The image of Jemima lying so cold and alone would remain with
her for the rest of her days
. Eliza
thought as she accepted the large goblet of brandy Edward placed in
her hand in the warmth of the study. She didn’t usually drink the
stuff, but she needed something to hold.

It was
several moments before she became aware of Peter slouched
half-drunk on the chaise beside her. A bottle of what she presumed
to be brandy held loosely in his hand.

Eliza
studied him for several minutes before slapping her drink on the
table beside her and rising to snatch the brandy off him. She stood
back and watched as Peter jerked out of his alcoholic stupor and
sat bolt upright, grumbled a protest at her abrupt removal of his
emotional anaesthetic.

“
What do you think you are doing?” She stood over him, holding
the bottle aloft. Briefly she considered hitting him with it,
before deciding on a better idea. Eyeing the offending object with
distaste, she pushed Peter roughly backwards until he landed on the
chaise with a thump and with a snarl, stalked towards the window,
lifted it and threw the bottle and contents outside. Peter cursed
fluidly as she slammed the window back down and stalked back
towards him.

Her
temper flared as she took in his bloodshot eyes, the ruffled
unkempt hair, his once pristine shirt liberally stained with
alcohol and vomit. He looked a mess, but the dark emotions deep in
the shadows of his tormented eyes chilled her to the
bone.

“
There is one thing Jemima hated.” She muttered, grabbing a
fistful of his shirt and pulling it tight, drawing him forwards
until they were nose-to-nose. “It was a drunkard. If I see you with
another bottle in your hand, I’ll beat you over your stupid head
with it.” Her voice trembled with the strength of her
anger.

“
What the hell are you trying to do? Do you really think you
will succeed in drinking yourself into an early grave too?” Her
voice rose in temper but she didn’t care. She was aware of Edward
and Dominic standing close by, watching intently but making no move
to intervene. They had the sense to stand back and let her have at
him.

Both men
knew that Eliza needed to vent her fury and if anyone in the house
was going to get Peter to stop drinking, it was going to be her.
Peter would never do anything to harm Jemima’s sister. If she said
to stop drinking, Peter would undoubtedly, at some point,
stop.

“
I love her.” Peter’s voice was hoarse with grief and bitter
regret.

“
I know. I do too, but drinking yourself to death isn’t going
to bring her back. She has gone Peter.” Eliza’s voice trembled but
she refused to allow the tears to fall. “If you really care about
her, you need to sober up and help us sort out her funeral. When
she is buried, you have an estate that needs your attention and
people living and working there that depend on you for their
livelihood. You cannot fail them.”

“
Like I failed Jemima?” Peter’s voice was harsh and cynical as
the horrifying memory of his last look at her alive swam in his
mind before he could quash it down.

“
You – didn’t – fail – Jemima.” She bit out each word through
clenched teeth. “Nobody did. If you really want to be harsh about
it, Jemima could have done more to protect herself. Instead, we sat
there in Derby like ducks waiting to be picked off by a merciless
hunter. It was only a matter of time before Scraggan found us.
Luckily for me, Edward found me and saved me before Scraggan got
me. Jemima wasn’t so lucky. There was nothing you could have done.
Beating yourself up about it is going to get you nowhere.” She
declared flatly, releasing her hold on his shirt and pushing
away.

“
She should have come to me.” Peter gasped through the heavy
weight in his chest. “I would have helped her.”

“
I know, but don’t you see? She was trying to protect you. By
staying in Derby, she was as close to you as she dared be without
actually seeking your help and putting you at risk.” If she
understood anything about the last few weeks it was her sister’s
logic in the face of adversity. Indeed, she had witnessed Edward
bravely facing death in an effort to protect her. Jemima had
clearly been trying to prevent Peter from facing the same by
staying away from him.

As she
turned towards the fireplace, she felt an unusual sense of calm
wash over her. Her anger made her feel purposeful, as if she was in
command of herself, if not the situation around her. She stood and
stared down at the fire flickering brightly in the grate for
several moments before turning towards Dominic.

“
I should like to remove her to Padstow. She should be buried
beside father.”

“
I’m sorry Eliza, it isn’t possible.” Dominic replied, regret
lacing his voice. “It’s too dangerous with Scraggan’s men in the
area. If we could get her there, they probably wouldn’t give us the
opportunity to bury her in peace.”

“
We owe her the dignity of a peaceful burial, without the
threat of Scraggan disturbing proceedings.” Edward added. He didn’t
mention Havistock was only a few hours away from his own estate,
Eliza’s future home. Having Jemima buried at Havistock meant that
Eliza could at least visit her sister’s grave whenever she chose
to.

“
I have already arranged for the funeral to be held in two
days.” Dominic announced flatly in a voice that brooked no
argument.

“
Eliza, if I might have a word with you?” Edward moved towards
the door connecting the study to the library and waited.

Thinking
he might want to discuss details of the service, Eliza followed
him. She watched as he sat on the long chaise before the roaring
fire and turned, clearly expecting her to join him. She did as she
was bade and perched cautiously on the edge of the seat, studying
the starkness on his face in concern.

She
briefly wondered if she could handle any more bad news and if the
look on his face was any indication, she wasn’t going to like what
he had to say. Her stomach began to knot as Edward let the silence
settled between them for several moments.

“
I have been trying to find the right time to speak with you
but no time seems like the right time now.” His eyes met and held
hers. “I contemplated leaving it until the funeral was over, but
think that it would be best if it was all dealt with
together.”

Eliza
frowned and waited, her stomach coiled in a tight knot of
nerves.

“
I spoke to Jemima before she was led back to the cell as you
know.”

Eliza
stared at him, silently waiting.

“
She asked me to give you these.” He held out a folded sheaf
of parchment. He couldn’t tell her the entire conversation and
upset her further.

She
sucked in a breath as she studied the single word on the top sheet,
written in Jemima’s scrawling script.

“
Do you want me to stay while you read it, or would you prefer
to read it alone?”

Eliza
wasn’t sure and raised helpless eyes to him in mute
appeal.

“
I’ll just be in the study if you need me.” He paused for
several moments and waited until she nodded before he placed a
gentle kiss on the top of her head and left.

With
trembling hands Eliza untied the loose strings from the sheets of
parchment and carefully unfolded them. The sight of her father’s
handwriting on some of the sheets brought about a fresh wave of
misery and she cried out with the physical pain of her
loss.

Within
moments Edward was standing in the doorway, studying her with a
frown of concern. “Are you alright?”

Eliza
turned to stare blankly at him, unaware of the tears trailing down
her face.

He was
immediately at her side, holding her hand in mute support. “Should
I have waited?”

Eliza
immediately shook her head. “No. No, it’s alright. It is just that
these are in my father’s writing.” Her voice was husky with tears
as she picked up two pieces of parchment covered almost completely
with tiny script.

She
slowly lifted them up for Edward to see. He glanced at her
cautiously for several moments before slowly relieving her of the
objects and studying them closely.

“
They are the codes, and contacts I mentioned.” She murmured
softly.

“
I’ll see the man from the War Office gets them along with the
papers Dominic already has. It is enough we need to bring Scraggan
and Rogan down Eliza. You should be immensely proud of your father
and sister.” He murmured, folding the papers and placing them
carefully onto the table before them.

Eliza
nodded slowly, unable to speak. She was inordinately proud of them,
of course she was, but a small part of her wondered if it really
was worth the ultimate price they paid. After all, both Jemima and
her father were now dead while Scraggan continued to keep people’s
lives in his brutal hold.