Not Always a Saint (25 page)

Jessie stood on her toes to brush a swift kiss on his lips. “Whatever happens,” she whispered, “know that I love you.”

Then she ducked her head and put her right foot into the fabric loop of their improvised rope. Wordlessly Daniel lifted her and threaded her into the window with her feet outside. She slid her left foot into the loop as well. A good thing she'd worn sturdy half boots for their morning walk.

“When you're ready, slide out and turn around. You can hang on to the sill until you have a firm grip on the rope. All set? You can do this. It will be over in just a couple of minutes.”

Suppressing her terror, she nodded and eased herself out the window and into the abyss.

D
aniel kept a strong arm around Jessie until she was dangling over the lethal rocks, her hands locked on the rope in a death grip. No, a life grip. She swallowed hard and tightened her hold until her fingers whitened.

“Here you go,” Daniel said, his voice as calm as if he was passing her a cheese plate. “If you want me to slow down or stop, just shout.”

Beyond words, she nodded, and he began to pay out the rope. He'd wrapped it around his body so the operation was as secure as humanly possible, but she knew the journey down would live in her nightmares till the day she died. She was sweating despite the cold wind that buffeted and spun her around, sometimes banging her into the rough cliff face.

As she descended, flying spray from the waves spattered icy water over her, growing heavier the closer she came to the rocky ledge that offered a tenuous safety. Dizzily she watched the shiny wet rocks grow nearer and nearer. When she touched down, she promptly slipped and fell because of the slipperiness of the wet rocks, but her grip on the rope spared her from hitting hard.

Heart pounding with relief, she looked up and waved at Daniel high above. Swiftly he pulled up the rope, then lowered it again with his coat and shirt tied to the end. They hadn't discussed that, but she realized he was reducing the width of his shoulders as much as possible. A half inch might make the difference between success and failure.

She removed the garments and waved again. She wanted to call good luck, but he probably couldn't hear her over the sound of the crashing surf. He returned her wave before disappearing for a moment.

Then his feet appeared and he began carefully maneuvering his way out the square stone opening, which now looked far too small. Sickly she realized how much more treacherous his exit was than hers. Not only would he probably be scraping skin to get out, but at the same time he had to maneuver the square metal grate to an angle where it would lock behind the window opening and anchor his descent. If he positioned the grate badly, it would fly through the open square and he'd crash down the cliff.

For the first time since she was a very young child, she prayed.
If anyone deserves your help, God, it's Daniel! Please, please, please . . . !

Abruptly his torso and shoulders emerged and he was outside, hanging safely from the rope. She began to breathe again.

He came down much more swiftly than she had. There was blood on the shoulder she could see, but it was fascinating to watch the powerful play of the muscles in his arms and back as he descended hand over hand. He truly was beautiful. Her hero if not her husband. And she really was a wicked woman to think of such a thing under these circumstances!

He even managed to avoid slipping on the wet stones when he reached the bottom. Not caring how disgusted he might be at all the trouble she'd caused, she threw her arms around him and shook, as she'd wanted to do earlier. “Thank
God
you got down safely!” she breathed, her eyes squeezed shut against her tears of relief.

“I think He does deserve much of the credit,” Daniel agreed. He patted her on the back as if she were a friendly puppy, then pulled away and reached for his shirt, which she'd put as far from the spray as possible.

As she'd guessed, his shoulders, the broadest part of his body, were scraped raw and were bleeding, but he'd managed to escape. The hardest part was over. At least, she hoped it was.

He pulled the shirt over his head, which made the view less interesting but would help warm him. As he donned his coat, he said, “You're afraid of heights, aren't you? That makes what you did even braver.”

She smiled ruefully. “Before today, heights only bothered me a little. Now they
terrify
me!”

“Yet once again, you did what was needed.” His smile was friendly rather than intimate.

She'd worry about that later. “I'm not sure how far we have to go around the headland, but if we make good speed, we should be safe on the beach well before it gets dark. Then we call the magistrate!”

“It's possible that Trevane
is
the magistrate, but something must be done about the man. Your attacking him in Bristol the night you ran away was self-defense, but his kidnapping us for his private revenge is a long way outside the law.” Daniel studied the rough path they'd have to follow. “The incoming tide is coming in fast and will cover some of this path soon, so it's time we got moving.”

She turned and started walking, her right hand skimming the cliff face for balance as she picked her way through the uneven tangle of stones. Some had very sharp edges and her feet slipped into crevasses too often. Grimly she carried on, moving as quickly as she could.

About fifty feet along, the path curved to reveal a sea cave to her right. It hadn't been visible from above, but it was sizable. Higher than a man's head, it disappeared into darkness inside the cliff.

She was about to mention it to Daniel when a howl of fury rang out from behind them. Startled, she turned back around the corner and rejoined Daniel, who was staring up at their former cell.

Ivo Trevane leaned out the window, his expression enraged. “Damn you, damn you,
damn you!
You'll not get away from me this easily!”

“He called that easily?” Daniel said with dry humor.

“He really isn't a very good plotter, is he?” Jessie shivered. “Time to move out before he joins us for more threats and intimidation.”

She wanted to run but didn't dare do so on the dangerous surface. She was at the corner again when she heard a cry of terror.

Jessie jerked around and saw that Ivo had emerged from the window to follow them down. His shoulders must be narrower than Daniel's. But in his haste, he hadn't taken time to place the grate solidly inside the window opening. Now he was looking up as the heavy metal rectangle scraped and twisted inside the cell.

As she watched, appalled, the grate tumbled out the window with shocking suddenness. Ivo dropped like a stone, and his harrowing scream was another horror that would haunt Jessie's nightmares.

His scream ended abruptly as he hit the narrow path. The falling grate clanged down next to him, then bounced into the sea.

Swearing, Daniel took off toward Ivo. Jessie wanted to run the other way until she was home and could bury her head under a pillow. But after an instant, she followed Daniel.

He was already kneeling beside Ivo, who amazingly had survived the fall. Blood was gushing from a long gash on his upper arm. He must have hit a sharp-edged rock. His skull was also bleeding on the same side and his lower left ankle was twisted badly, either sprained or broken.

As Jessie reached him, his eyes fluttered open. “You win, bitch,” he breathed hoarsely. “You can leave me here to die and walk away with everything, a real widow this time. You can keep Lord Fancy Pants if you want him. Instead of you dying for your sins, I'm dying for them.”

“You are an amazingly unpleasant man, Ivo Trevane,” Daniel said in a pleasant voice as he stripped off his cravat. “But don't count on dying yet.”

Swiftly he tore the cravat in half and tied one half above the massively bleeding gash in Ivo's arm. Then he pulled a pencil from inside his coat and slid it under the bandage. As he twisted the pencil to tighten the ring of fabric, Jessie realized it was a tourniquet. She'd heard of them but had never seen one.

As the blood flow from the arm slowed to almost nothing, Daniel frowned at the damaged ankle. “With luck, your boot spared you a broken ankle, but I'm guessing there's a bad sprain. I'll have to cut your boot off.”

An incoming wave splashed over all three of them. Jessie wondered how close it was to high tide. “Just around that corner, there's a sea cave. It was higher than here and went back into the cliff and there were pieces of driftwood tossed inside.”

“That sounds like a major improvement from here.” Daniel stood. “Jessie, if I take his shoulders, can you manage his legs?”

“Very well,” she said without enthusiasm.

“This will hurt, I'm afraid,” Daniel said as he levered Ivo into a sitting position and slid his arms around from the back.

Jessie picked up Ivo's feet. Despite her care, jostling his injured leg caused him to give an agonized cry before he clenched his teeth to cut off the sound.

The next few minutes counted as among the worst of a very bad day. Jessie was moving backward on a wet, stony surface that was treacherous even if she had been moving forward and not carrying anything.

But after a very long quarter hour, they managed to get Ivo to the relative shelter of the cave. A patch of sand was a dozen feet inside, so they set him down there.

Jessie folded onto the sand, gasping for breath while Daniel immediately set to work, loosening the tourniquet cautiously. Since the wound was no longer gushing blood, he cut away Ivo's sleeve and wrapped the arm with a bandage improvised from Daniel's wrecked cravat and Ivo's sleeve. “That should be enough pressure to stop you from hemorrhaging without destroying your arm.”

“You seem to know what you're doing,” Ivo said grudgingly.

“Because I'm a doctor and I patch up fools all the time,” Daniel explained. “I'm going to examine your ankle now. Hope that it's a sprain rather than a break.”

“If this is a sprain, I bloody well don't want to find out what a break feels like,” Ivo muttered before gasping with pain again as Daniel cut off the expensive boot and probed the injured ankle.

“Romayne, why didn't you just leave me there to die,” he asked gruffly. “Would have made your life much simpler, and you'd get to keep her, at least until she runs off again. If you're lucky, she might not try to murder you before she leaves.”

“Leaving people to die isn't what I do,” Daniel said shortly. “And I suggest that you stop being so insulting about the lady given that I'm patching up your broken body and the process could be a good deal more painful than it is now.”

“Lady!” Ivo spat, but he subsided under Daniel's cold stare.

“Jessie, could you take off Trevane's cravat? I need it to bind his ankle.”

Not anxious to touch Ivo again, Jessie said, “I can tear fabric from my shift.”

“Trevane started all this, so he can sacrifice his cravat,” Daniel said dryly. “It will work better, too.”

Reluctantly Jessie knelt by Ivo and untied the cravat, then began to unwind the narrow length of linen. He watched her through angry, slit eyes, but didn't say anything. Once it was off, she'd have to confront the scar of the near-lethal stab wound she'd given him, which would be still another bad thing on a very bad day.

She removed the last winding of fabric, exposing the base of his throat—and there was no scar visible. She bent over to see better. A scattering of dark hair, but no trace of scarring. Surely a wound like that would scar?

Struck by an impossible thought, she ripped his shirt down to his waist and looked at the rib area of his lower right side. Another expanse of smooth, unmarked skin.

“Damn you!” she gasped, caught between incredulity and fury.
“You aren't Ivo!”

D
aniel jerked his head up. “This man isn't Ivo Trevane?”

“I most certainly am!” Trevane said indignantly. “I have a birth certificate at home that will attest to it.”

“Well, you certainly aren't the Ivo Trevane I married!” Jessie hissed. “My husband would have had a scar on his throat where I stabbed him.” Her finger traced the place. “Nothing! And you don't have a mole here, the way he did.” She touched the spot on his bare ribs. “Who are you? My husband's twin brother?”

Trevane started to protest, then exhaled wearily in a resigned sigh. “Brother, but not a twin. I was two years older. We looked so much alike that we were mistaken for twins.”

“If you really are Ivo Trevane, what was my husband's name?” Jessie's gaze was burning a hole in Trevane's hide.

“Rupert Ivo Trevane. Half the male Trevanes in Dorset have Ivo somewhere in their names. He didn't like the name Rupert, so he often used Ivo when I wasn't around to confuse the issue.” Trevane's voice had changed, losing the gruffness and sounding more educated.

“In other words, today you are impersonating your brother, who married Jessie while impersonating you,” Daniel said acerbically.

Trevane glowered. “Yes, damn you!”

Jessie frowned. “He never said anything about his family. I thought he was alone, like me. Why didn't he invite you to the wedding if you were so close?”

“I had traveled to the Indies on a matter of business. It was months until I returned home. I found a letter from Rupert saying he'd married a diamond of the first water and he'd bring Lisbet to Dorset for Christmas if I was home by then.” Trevane's mouth flattened to a deadly line. “I was going to travel up to Bristol to meet you when the news arrived that Rupert was dead, and his beautiful young wife had killed him and disappeared.”

“Did he mention that he married me claiming he was you?” Jessie asked. “He also claimed that he owned the Bristol house and that he had an estate down around here!”

“Both belonged to me as the elder son, but I let him stay in the Bristol house because he found the estate a flat bore.” Trevane frowned. “He liked pranks and sometimes he did pretend to be me, but surely he didn't allow you to think that when he married you.”

“Oh, he did!” Voice shaking, Jessie continued. “So what was the reason for this mad charade of yours? Did you intend to murder me to avenge your brother?”

Trevane's eyes blazed. “I wouldn't have killed you or your husband. I planned to keep you a day or two and then release you.”

“And then what?” Daniel exclaimed with amazement. “You'd just let us go and expect there would be no consequences for your kidnapping and assault?”

“Every magistrate and other important person in this area is related to me,” Trevane explained with a smirk. “They'd understand why I wanted to do this before I had you charged and arrested for my brother's murder.” His voice broke. “ I wanted you to
suffer!
I wanted you to know some of the pain I felt when you murdered my closest kin!”

In a cold rage, Daniel said, “So he was a charming, prankish young fellow and you miss him still?”

“Always,” was the whispered reply. Ivo's eyes were haunted.

“Perhaps Jessie can share some of her memories of your brother with you,” Daniel said in a voice that cut like a whip. “She can tell you what a vicious brute he was when he was drunk. So vicious that she locked herself in her bedroom nights when she knew he'd come home drunk.”

Trevane lifted his head, his eyes furious. “You're lying!”

“Oh?” Jessie spat out. “I was there! You were
not!
Yes, he was charming when he was sober, but he was a monster when he drank!”

“Let me tell you about the night I met her,” Daniel said inexorably. “It was the night she killed him. When she appeared in my infirmary that night, her face was so bruised her own mother wouldn't have recognized her. Luckily your dear brother didn't destroy either of her eyes, but it was a near run thing.

“And then there were the bruises around her neck, where he almost strangled her to death. Big, purple bruises that show how her breathing was choked off. Imagine how she felt when she was blacking out from the lack of air, struggling frantically as he threatened to slash her face so no one would ever think her pretty again.”

As Ivo stared in shock, Daniel continued, his words slashing like scalpels. “Maybe his intention was merely to mutilate her, but as an experienced doctor, I think it more likely he would have killed her accidentally, then wept bitter tears when he sobered up, because after all, he didn't mean it, which makes it all right, doesn't it? Because he was such a good fellow he'd never kill his wife
deliberately.
”

“No,” Trevane whispered hoarsely, not wanting to believe. “He wouldn't have done anything like that!”

“But he did,” Jessie said in a hard voice. “I managed to break free and was running for the door when he stabbed me in the back. The scar is so distinctive that Daniel recognized it on our wedding night even though he hadn't recognized my battered, bleeding face.” Her voice began to shake. “If not for the kindness of Daniel and his sister, I don't know what would have become of me. I might have died in the streets. Instead, Daniel fixed me up and gave me money and I was able to run away. Because I was a murderess, you know, I had to run for my life.”

She turned and yanked the left shoulder of her gown down as far as she could. “See that scar? It runs all the way to my waist. Shall I show you all of it?”

“No,” Trevane said in an agonized voice.
“No!”

His eyes closed and his face twisted as tears leaked from between his lids. After a long, long moment, he opened his eyes. Devastated acceptance was written on every line of his face. “How . . . did he die?”

“When I was struggling to get away, I shoved at his hand with the knife. It swerved into his throat. Right in the place where you don't have a scar.” She drew a ragged breath. “So I really did kill him. When I thought you were he, still alive, I was relieved. I never wanted to hurt anyone.”

When she stopped speaking, there was no sound except the endless waves. Mouth tight, Daniel used the cravat to bind Trevane's ankle. Then he poked among the pieces of driftwood and found a branch that was long enough and close enough to straight to serve as a staff.

“Let's get out of here. I don't know how much longer the path is to the beach, but the tide is coming in and I really do not want to spend a night in the same cave with you, Mr. Trevane.”

Trevane pushed himself to a sitting position. His face was haggard and he looked like a different man. Well, he was a different man now that he was no longer playing the role of his dead brother. “I . . . I'm deeply sorry, Lady Romayne, for what my brother did to you, and what I did to you and your husband,” he said unsteadily. “Rupert's death drove me to the edge of madness, and that madness took hold of my mind and better judgment.”

“There's a reason why God is reported as saying that vengeance is His,” Daniel said acerbically. “He's the only one who knows the whole truth.” He put his arm under Trevane's shoulders and hauled him to his feet. “I'll support you with your arm over my shoulders and you can use the staff with your other hand if your arm doesn't hurt too much. How much farther is it to the beach?”

“Not far.” Trevane managed to lurch forward with Daniel supporting most of his weight. “The path isn't quite so treacherous the rest of the way. This whole area is old smugglers' quarters. There's a tunnel that leads up to the Castle Romayne dungeons, which was how I got you two there. Our ancestors, Romaynes and Trevanes, did quite a profitable line of business in free trade.”

“Do you still?” Daniel asked.

“No, I'm the boring brother.” His mouth twisted humorlessly. “I don't ask my people questions I don't want to know the answers to.”

As they moved from the cave to the path, Jessie asked, “Mr. Trevane, how did you know who I was? You and I have never met, and I've hidden from my past rather effectively. Daniel and I only arrived here yesterday. How did you realize who I was and put this nasty little plan of yours into effect?”

“I went to school with a nephew of yours, Frederick Kelham,” Trevane explained. “He was suspicious of his uncle's death, wondering if you might have poisoned your elderly husband to get rid of him. Somehow he learned that you'd lived in Bristol and he decided to do some investigating of your past. He'd met my brother a time or two and he knew me, so he thought it his duty to tell me who the murderer was.”

“Frederick!” Jessie said with loathing. “There is no end to the amount of trouble he wants to make for me and my daughter! But you believed him because he was a man.”

“That and the fact that we both went to Harrow,” Trevane said apologetically. “He always was a slippery fellow, but when he told me you'd killed my brother—well, I lost a lot of my sanity.”

“Losing your sanity seems to be a trait you shared with your brother,” Daniel said tartly. The going was indeed easier on this stretch of path, but he'd be very, very glad when they got back to the sand. Then he could put Trevane down and go up to the house and enlist others to finish the job.

“Frederick is a vile beast who threatened the lives of me and my daughter. Of
course
you believed him!” Jessie snapped.

“Mea culpa, Lady Romayne,” Trevane said with a sigh. “You seem to have chosen a better husband this time.”

“I became much better at choosing husbands after Ivo.” She smiled at Daniel with a warmth that almost made up for the rest of the day.

“The end of the trail!” she said with relief as she turned another corner. “Shall I head up to the new house for help while you settle Mr. Trevane on the sand? Someone else can get him up the cliff.”

“Exactly what I was thinking.” Daniel steered Trevane through the dangerous jumble of rocks mixed with sand that marked the transition from cliff to beach. The sun was setting, a blood-red ball of fire.

Despite her fatigue, Jessie speeded up as she headed toward the stairway up the cliff. She had to be as anxious for this to be over as Daniel was.

A man was charging down the steps to the beach. Daniel squinted, wondering if it was a Romayne servant coming to help.

Frederick Kelham. He
was wild eyed and red with rage. “Damn you, Trevane!” he shouted. “You were supposed to take care of that murderess! You promised me you'd see that justice was done!”

Trevane halted, weaving in his tracks. “You can't have thought I'd just murder her out of hand!” he sputtered, aghast. “I wanted to see her humiliated and hanged.”

“Why not murder her?” Kelham snarled. “That's what she did to your brother.”

Trevane tried to straighten his battered body. “I found out there was more to the story than you told me. No further justice was required.”

Jessie, who was halfway between Frederick and Daniel, said sharply, “You've spread enough lies about me, Frederick! How would your fashionable friends feel if they knew what a disgusting, greedy liar you are? If you ever threaten me or mine again, I'll find some way to take you to court and into bankruptcy!”

“You
bitch!
” Face contorted with rage, Frederick pulled a pistol from his coat and cocked it, holding the hilt in both hands as he aimed at Jessie at point-blank range.

Her jaw dropped as if even now, she couldn't think such a thing of Philip's nephew. “You really
are
mad!”

Daniel abandoned Trevane to his own devices and sprinted toward Frederick, knowing he wouldn't be able to reach the bastard before he fired.

Jessie tried to dodge away, but the barrel of Kelham's pistol followed her. Oh, God, he was squeezing the trigger. . . .

A shot exploded through the twilight, echoing from the cliffs and driving a flock of gulls screaming into the sky.

No, no, noooooooo!
A primal howl started in Daniel's heart and rose to the heavens, threatening to shatter him into anguished pieces.

But it was Frederick who crumpled to the ground, not Jessie. Frederick's blood that stained the sand. Someone else had fired.

Heart pounding, Daniel halted and scanned his surroundings. Salvation was a man with pale blond hair who was now racing down the stairs three steps at a time. A rifle angled down at his side with a wisp of smoke trailing from the barrel.

Gordon. Praise be to all the saints,
Gordon!

Daniel reached Jessie and she hurled herself into his arms, shaking as if she'd break into pieces herself. He enveloped her in an all-encompassing embrace, scarcely able to believe that she was here and alive.

Slowing his pace, Gordon crossed the sand toward them, as travel stained as when they'd last seen him at Milton Manor.

Holding Jessie tight, Daniel said, “I approve of your timely arrival, but how?”

“I was lucky. I'd almost finished my interview with the butler at Trevane's house in Bristol when I asked the right question and increased my bribe. He immediately told me that it was a younger brother who died, one who liked to pretend he was the heir,” Gordon explained. “I also learned that someone had been asking the same questions I was a few days earlier. I thought you should know, but I didn't expect the situation to have become so dangerous so quickly.”

“Neither of us would have guessed,” Jessie said in a thin voice. “Thank God you arrived when you did!”