Rules of Engagement (27 page)

Lord Pitchford appeared and declared, "She's knocked up. Poor Albert."

Pamela lightly touched her fingers to her own midriff. A child.

Beth tugged at her hand. When Pamela leaned down to hear her, she whispered, "Is it true about the baby?"

"I don't know." Pamela didn't know whether she answered Beth or spoke to herself about her own sudden and overwhelming alarm.

"Poor Albert?" Lady Pitchford's bosom heaved with indignation. "Poor Victoria, I would say. She's the one who'll have to have a child ripped from her loins."

The Tomlins rushed up. "Did we miss it?" Mrs. Tomlin asked.

"I would say it's just getting started," Lady Colbrook drawled. "But let's halt everything right here. We'll have no more of your loin-ripping, Lady Pitchford. There are gentlemen and children present."

Certainly Beth's eyes were wide as she listened to the conversation.

"We missed Beth's presentation?" Mrs. Tomlin insisted.

At the nods all around, Tomlin grinned impishly. "But we have to make conversation about something. Let's question Kerrich about the full moon on a foggy night!"

That jerked Pamela back to the immediate issue.

"No." Kerrich glanced at her. "Let's not."

Swearn was grinning, too. "But—"

"No." Kerrich was adamant.

So it was true. Everyone
was
laughing about his youthful exploits… and he had immediately decided Pamela had betrayed him. Probably still thought she'd betrayed him.

She couldn't be having a baby by a man who thought her deceitful and treacherous. They had scarcely been together… only the few times… that night in the library… and afterward in her bedchamber… and earlier today.

Quite a few times, really.

Pamela hadn't thought this affair through. She hadn't thought at all.

Colbrook began to say something. Something vulgar, no doubt.

Lady Colbrook ruthlessly spoke over the top of him. "If we're going to talk scandal, let's talk about what happened at the Bank of England today."

Pamela's attention honed in on Lady Colbrook.

Everyone's
attention honed in on Lady Colbrook, but Kerrich swiveled to face her and spoke so sharply, Pamela winced. "How do you know what happened at the bank today?"

"I was there," Lady Colbrook said.

"You were there," Kerrich repeated.

Beth tugged at Pamela's hand again.

"Yes, and can you believe it? There was a young man there with a gun, and he shot at a guard." Lady Colbrook drew herself up indignantly. "I could have been killed!"

"How awful!" Mrs. Tomlin exclaimed.

Lady Colbrook spoke clearly enough that her voice reached everyone. "I was riding by on the new gelding Colbrook bought me—"

"The gray that Wilcox sold," Lord Colbrook said proudly.

"—and lost control of the creature."

"But you're the best rider I've ever seen," Lady Albon said.

"A dog spooked the horse," Lady Colbrook snapped.

"Was he robbing the place?" Lord Swearn sounded stern. "Did he get away?"

"Why were you riding by the bank?" Kerrich asked.

Lady Colbrook sighed in annoyance. "Yes, he got away. He fired a gun!"

Pamela noted she didn't answer Kerrich's question.

Beth tugged at Pamela's hand again, and loudly whispered, "Miss Lockhart!"

Lord Reynard moved closer to his grandson.

Pamela realized Kerrich hadn't heard Beth's revelation about the lady and Mr. Athersmith. She looked down at Beth and lifted her eyebrows.

Beth nodded excitedly. "That's her."

"But she's so agreeable." Still, Pamela's heart raced with excitement.

"Lady Colbrook, tell me what you were doing at the Bank of England," Kerrich said.

Lady Colbrook's wave of the arm included everyone in the group. "If you'll just be quiet, I'll tell the whole story."

A strange man's voice intruded, and for a moment Pamela couldn't place the frenzied, infuriated tones. "The whole story, my lady?" he said. "Or just the parts you made up to gild your own damnable precarious image?"

Like a stage villain, Mr. Athersmith stepped out from behind the curtains with a cocked pistol pointed at Lady Colbrook's heart.

Lady Albon ducked and shrieked. Mrs. Tomlin shoved her husband behind her out of harm's way. Pamela took Beth by the shoulders, pushed the child behind her, and backed away.

Kerrich stepped between Lady Colbrook and his cousin. "Lewis, this isn't wise."

"Wise?" Lewis's voice shook as he tried to angle around Kerrich and still keep his back to the wall. "Wise? What is wisdom to me? I'm ruined. Everyone at the Bank of England saw me."

"You were the one stealing from the Bank of England?" Lord Swearn flushed ruddy red and his lips drew back from his teeth. "You lived in my house. You taught my son. You… you beast."

"See?" Lewis's trousers were torn at the knee, his hair stood on end, he audibly drew breath after painful breath. "See? I can't stay in England or I'll hang, and I can't leave England because Miss Fotherby, the girl I love, is here."

"My daughter!" Swearn started toward Lewis. "How dare you even speak her name?"

The gun swung toward him. "This is your fault. You told me I was too poor to have her, so I searched until I found money!"

"You didn't find it, you stole it!" Lord Swearn shouted.

Lord Reynard stepped between the men, and held Lewis's gaze. "Lewis, you're at Buckingham Palace."

"And I'm acting improperly," Lewis mocked the old man. "What will the queen think?"

"Don't be stupid, lad," Lord Reynard said crisply. "The royal guards will kill you."

"I've nothing to lose." Lewis's voice shook.

Kerrich wanted his grandfather out of there, and at the same time knew an appeal would not sway him. After all, Lord Reynard was the man who had taught him it was better to die for your principles than to live in cowardice. The devil fly away with Grandpapa!

Someone in the crowd screamed. "A pistol. That man has a pistol!"

More screams followed, and people scattered for the exits, carrying Pamela and Beth with them. Kerrich's gaze met Pamela's as she turned in the doorway and sent him one last glance.

He wanted Pamela and Beth safe, and at the same time he hated to see them go. He wanted them to see what he'd been involved in, why he'd left them to travel to Buckingham Palace by themselves. Selfish. He was selfish to the bone, but if he had to die, he wanted to do it honorably and in the arms of the woman he loved.

Kerrich almost laughed at himself. Right here, right now, with a gun pointed at his chest and death staring him in the face, he could admit he loved Pamela. He loved her—and he had made no provision for her.

She disappeared from the doorway, and moved to sudden desperation, he murmured to Lord Reynard, "If I'm hurt, you'll take care of Pamela and Beth."

"I will," Grandpapa answered. "But I'm warning you right now, boy. Don't get hurt."

Lewis glanced around. The gun wavered. Kerrich jumped toward him. And Lewis once again leveled the pistol on Lady Colbrook.

Again Kerrich stepped between them, holding out his hand. "Lewis, I recognize that gun. It's mine, one of my matched pair of dueling pistols. So give it to me."

With a bitter snicker, Lewis said, "You don't get
everything
you want, Devon."

"Young man, this is so dramatic!" Lady Colbrook snapped. "If you don't care if you live or die, why don't you just shoot yourself?"

Lewis's eyes bulged with fury. "Because it's all your fault." He pointed his other hand at her, and the gun waved wildly. Lord and Lady Pitchford turned and ran, but Lewis didn't seem to notice. He saw only Lady Colbrook. "You're the one who thought up the counterfeiting. You're the one who told me what to do. I did what you told me."

With absolute, icy composure, Lady Colbrook asked, "Who's going to believe that?"

"I do," Kerrich said. Lewis hadn't been meeting a lady for licentious purposes as he and Moulton had thought. He'd been meeting her to get his instructions. "You were at the Bank of England to create a diversion for Lewis. You failed and left Lewis to take the consequences."

Lewis inched along the wall, trying to get into position for a clean shot at Lady Colbrook.

She ignored him to stare at Kerrich for a long, considering moment. Then she shrugged her bare, pale shoulders. "Ah, well. As long as you already
know.
The truth is, I didn't fail. I made a lovely diversion by slipping from my horse and pretending to be hurt and fainting artfully. I did so well Mr. Athersmith almost got the paper outside. Then he rammed the cart against the doorframe and, as if the noise weren't enough, knocked the paper off onto the floor and broke one of the bottles of ink."

"Not all of it, and I was hurrying!" Lewis said.

"I told you not to hurry." Contempt lashed through her tone. "I told you if you just act as if you're supposed to be there, no one would notice you."

"Cherise!" Colbrook exclaimed, obviously bewildered. "What are you saying?"

She ignored him like the insignificant trifle he was. Speaking to Kerrich, she said, "If Mr. Athersmith had been cool, he could have convinced those stupid guards to help him pick up the paper and carry it out. But no. He had to shiver with guilt. When they inquired what he was doing, he pulled out a gun and shot it off—"

"I didn't mean to!" Lewis cried.

"You never mean to. If I had the proper staff, I could organize the world." She flipped open her fan and fanned herself languidly. "But good help is hard to get these days."

Kerrich looked around. At the both entrances to the drawing room, the crowd rumbled and shifted, senseless people too fascinated by the drama to appreciate the danger. Here in their small group, they all stood with their mouths open, staring at Lady Colbrook as if they didn't know her. As they didn't. None of them knew this imperturbable organizer of high crime.

"I didn't realize it at first," Lewis said. "She can do anything, and it doesn't matter if she gets caught. No one's going to hang her. She's noble, and she's a woman. No one in the government is going to admit a woman made mock of them."

A faint smile played around her mouth. "That is so true."

Kerrich still stood between Lewis and his target. Lewis still held that pistol pointed at Kerrich. He didn't think his cousin would shoot him, but the pistol shook with Lewis's continuous tremors, and his eyes darted madly about. He was panicked. Guns were notoriously flighty. If Kerrich tried to grab the pistol, it could misfire, and Kerrich had no desire to die for someone as reckless as Lady Colbrook, or at the hand of someone as foolish as his cousin.

"This is asinine," Colbrook objected. "My wife couldn't be working for a counterfeiter and me not know it."

"Working for a counterfeiter?" Lady Colbrook was obviously stung by his lack of comprehension. "I don't work for anyone!"

"There!" Colbrook nodded, satisfied. "See?"

"Everyone worked for me. I thought up the whole plan." Lady Colbrook chuckled, her voice a pleased contralto. "I picked my men, five of them, thieves who knew how to take orders, and I thought that we should first test our capacities on Kerrich's banknotes, but I always knew the glory would be to counterfeit notes from the Bank of England. Mr. Athersmith was my only mistake."

Kerrich couldn't let this standoff continue.

"For God's sake, Cherise!" Colbrook exploded. "What the hell are you talking about? We're rich. You don't need money!"

Lady Colbrook put her fingers to her forehead in exasperation. "Colbrook, you are so pedestrian. I didn't do it for the money. I did it because I
could."

With deliberate carelessness, Kerrich stepped aside to allow Lewis a clear shot at Lady Colbrook.

"What are you jabbering about?" Lord Swearn asked.

"Women don't commit crimes because they
can
."

Lady Colbrook viewed him with a sneer. "You mean, your dear Lilly doesn't do that, don't you? But Lilly has seven children. I have two, and I've raised them and married them off. Nerissa married a marquess and Daniel married an heiress, so you can't say I didn't do well by them. But I ask you, what am I supposed to do now? Sit and needlepoint until I wither and die? I think not, Lord Swearn." Her gaze dropped to his arm where Lady Albon's hand rested. "And Lilly knows about your affair and is pleased for the respite, although she wonders what Lord Albon will do when he finds himself raising a child who looks like you!"

Lady Albon leaped away from Swearn while Swearn sputtered, "Well… not really… didn't do it… damned woman…"

Lewis's hand tightened on the trigger. As the pistol thundered, Kerrich shoved Lady Colbrook aside. Then he flung himself at Lewis, butting him in the chest and grabbing him around the waist. Kerrich had him. He would have knocked Lewis flat if not for Tomlin. Dear, bumbling Tomlin, who always tried to help and always ruined everything. Tomlin jumped into the fray. With all his weight behind him, he rammed into Kerrich. Kerrich lost his grip on Lewis. Lewis escaped, scrambling up and sprinting the length of the drawing room toward the wide entrance.

People screamed and scattered as he came at them, still holding the smoking, single-shot pistol.

Kerrich yelled, "Grab the bounder!" but panic swept the crowd in every direction.

Lewis dashed into the corridor.

Kerrich followed, his feet pounding on the hardwood floor, his breath coming fast.

The two of them darted from side to side as people dove to avoid them.

Half-turning, Lewis flung the pistol at Kerrich.

Kerrich ducked and kept running. Running toward the stairway. As Lewis rounded the curve, Kerrich lost sight of his cousin for a few precious seconds. He skidded around the corner.

Lewis was hesitating at the top of the stairs—while the queen's guard mounted the steps.

Pamela and Beth led the uniformed men. The governess and the child. They were almost upon Lewis.

Kerrich's blood ran cold. He shouted a warning Pamela and Beth looked up. The guards looked up. Pamela pointed.

No one could have stopped Beth. She was just so fast. The child darted up the remaining stairs and hit Lewis at the knees, knocking him forward. He fell down the stairs almost at the guards' feet.

Kerrich sped toward his cousin, trying to reach him before—

—before Lewis drew the other pistol from his pocket.

"No!" Kerrich roared.

"Brat!" Lewis aimed at Beth.

Pamela stepped in the way.

Even as the guards leaped on him, Lewis shot.

He hit her. Dear God, he had shot Pamela. She collapsed where she stood, then tumbled down the steps.

She couldn't be dead. This wasn't right! He should have taken the bullet! Kerrich beat Beth to Pamela's side, but only just. Her cries of "Miss Lockhart!" mixed with his voice repeating, "Pamela. Pamela." Gently, he turned her face up. She was alive. Good. But blood bubbled from her shoulder and spread into a rapidly growing pool that stained the shattered silk. "Get a doctor," he shouted. "A doctor!"

"Yes. I can do that. I'll get a doctor." Beth raced down the stairs.

Kerrich pointed at a hovering footman. "Escort her." He didn't think Pamela was conscious when he picked her up, but she screamed with the pain. Behind him, he could hear the struggle with Lewis, but he didn't care. He had to get help.

Someone grabbed his arm. He looked into Queen Victoria's face. "Find me a bed," he ordered. "Find me a bed now."

"Follow me," she said, and she led him to a state bedchamber.

"Herr Muller has already sent for my physician," Victoria said as she threw back the blankets. "Don't worry, Kerrich. Miss Lockhart will survive."

"Of course she will. I will accept nothing less." He laid Pamela on the sheets. Her lids opened and her eyes were glazed with pain. Her face was white, sweat beaded her upper lip. Blood bathed her torso, and Kerrich swore, using words Victoria had probably never heard. "Fetch me a towel. Quickly!"

He didn't wait for it. Grabbing a tasseled pillow, he pressed it on the wound.

The door opened and shut. People were talking in the corridor outside. Victoria disappeared.

Grandpapa sank down on a chair beside the bed, looking every day of his age. "Put a rug on her," he ordered. "Keep her warm."

Where had everyone come from? Where did they go? But it didn't really matter. Only Pamela mattered. She'd been shot with his own gun! Hand trembling, Kerrich covered Pamela with a blanket. "I need scissors."

Suddenly Albert was at his side, handing him a pair. "Will you cut the clothing away?"

Kerrich tossed the pillow aside. Together the two men sliced through the neck of the gown and peeled it back. As they pulled the cloth, the wound bled more. Pamela moaned. Albert handed Kerrich a pad made from a towel. Kerrich pressed it on the wound.

The door opened and closed again, and Beth appeared. "I've brought the best doctor in London!"

Kerrich glared at the man taking off his shabby coat and rolling up his sleeves. "Quickly, man. Save her."

"Aye, ye're fortunate, m'lord. If ye had a fancy physician, the lady'd have no luck atall." He said "at all" as if the two words were one, and Kerrich realized he was Irish. "But I'm Paddy McEachern, an' I've been diggin' bullets out of every man, woman and child in Ireland for years. Now I'm workin' the docks here in London. I know what I'm doin'." His claims were as exuberant as a blast of Irish whisky, and as he spoke he leaned over Pamela. Raising her eyelid, he observed her, and when the other eye flashed open, the doctor said, "Ah, she's awake. That's good."