Silverbridge (29 page)

She shook her head in disagreement. “That’s no reason to let him go, Harry! Suppose he tries to kill you again? You’re never going to be safe as long as that man is free!”

“I don’t think he’ll try anything again.
You
know about him, and if anything happens to me, he must know he will be arrested.”

“This is crazy,” she cried. “It’s something Charles might have done in the nineteenth century, chosen to cover up a scandal rather than prosecute a murderer. But this is the twenty-first century! We don’t do those things anymore. Give me that gun!”

He shook his head. “It’s too late, he’s gone by now. But I don’t think he’s going to go far. We can still have him arrested if that’s what we want.”

“What I want is for you to be safe, and for that to happen, Jon Melbourne needs to be behind bars.”

He stepped closer to her. “
Tracy, think. You’re a movie star. You, of all people, must know how vicious the press can be.” He put his left hand on her shoulder and looked into her eyes. “I don’t want any more of it. It looks as if Meg will be able to go back to school for the next term, and she doesn’t need a lurid trial for attempted murder hanging over her. After all, all we can hope to accomplish is to wreck Melbourne’s career. Even if we can prove a case against him, he will only serve a few years.” Gently, he pushed a tendril of her hair off her forehead. “Luckily, he didn’t succeed in killing me, did he?”

He could see her struggling with his line of reasoning. “He
tried
to kill you,” she repeated. “He shouldn’t be allowed to get away with it.”

He went back to cradling his right arm with his left hand. “If we lived in a perfect world, I would agree with you. But we don’t. We live in a very imperfect world, where there is as much gray as there is black-and-white. This is one of those gray areas. We have to ask ourselves: Will the good accomplished by letting Melbourne go outweigh the good that will be accomplished if we have him arrested? I think it will.”

She scowled, still not convinced.

“If this all comes out, our wedding will be hell. There will be reporters and photographers all over us, no matter where we go or how hard we try to hide.”

Tracy slowly let out her breath. “You gave me that gun on purpose didn’t you? You knew Jon would try to escape if I was holding the gun.”

He said, “You had the look of a tigress defending her young. You would never have agreed to let him go.”

She narrowed her eyes. “That’s what he meant when he said you’d done some thinking. He knew you were giving him an opportunity to get away.”

He didn’t answer.

“Damn,” she cried.

“Darling, I will be perfectly safe, and so will you. I
shall leave a letter with my solicitor that will name Melbourne as a suspect should anything happen to me. And I’ll make sure he knows that.”

Tracy could feel the adrenaline r
u
sh that had powered her desire to catch Jon draining away. Her temper flared. She didn’t want to be reasonable about this. She wanted Jon behind bars.

A little breeze ruffled Harry’s hair, and he said, “The press are like pit bulls. Once they get their teeth into a juicy story like this, they won’t let go. Just think about that.”

“Once they find out that I’m marrying the Earl of Silverbridge, they’ll swarm all over us anyway,” she said sulkily.

“They probably will,” he agreed. “But that’s a two-day story, not an ongoing scandal. We can live with that.”

There was a long moment of silence as Tracy stared into his calm brown eyes. Then she sighed. “I want to see that letter before you send it to your solicitor. And I’ll sign it, too, as a witness.”

“An excellent idea,” he said.

She looked him up and down, assessing his condition. He had let the gun drop to the ground and was still supporting his bad shoulder by holding his arm
against
his chest. Tracy looked at the injured shoulder and said, “Thank God you didn’t get hit on the head again.”

He put his good arm around her and kissed her hair. “I would have, if you hadn’t screamed my name. What on earth made you do that?”

Briefly, she rested her cheek against his shoulder.

“I’l
l tell you later. Right now, we need to get your shoulder x-rayed.”

“I don’t think it’s broken,” he said reassuringly. “I broke my shoulder once, and it felt worse than this. There’s probably just soft tissue damage.”

“We’ll let a doctor be the judge of that,” she said firmly. “Come on, give me the damn gun and let’s go back to the house.”

H
arry was right about the soft tissue damage. The doctor in the hospital gave him a sling and painkillers and told him there was to be absolutely no riding until he had healed.

This last instruction put Harry in a foul mood. “I’ve already missed too much time,” he complained to Tracy the following morning. She had let him sleep in her bed, but sleep was the only thing she let him do. This put him into an even fouler mood.

“It won’t kill the horses to have a little time off,” she said.

He moved his head in a negative gesture. “Horses lose muscle so fast it isn’t funny. What takes a year to put on can disappear in a month.”

She replied inconsequently, “Did I ever tell you that I bought Dylan for you?”

He had been contemplating one of the bedposts gloomily, but his head jerked around. “I don’t believe you ever did.”

“But you have to give me lessons on Pendleton in return.”

A faint frown creased his forehead, and he didn’t reply.

She said, “I’ve been meaning to ask you, do I get a coronet or anything like that when I become a countess?”

His frown lifted. “As a matter of fact, you get the Oliver sapphire-and-diamond tiara,” he said. “It’s been in the family for over three hundred years, and I actually managed to hang on to it. You can wear it when you get presented at court. And when the next coronation finally happens, you’ll have a front seat at Westminster Abbey.”

“Wow,” Tracy said reverentially. “Wait until my mother hears that. I’ll finally be doing something that she approves of.”

The fingers of his good hand closed around hers. “How can she not approve of
you?”

Tracy returned the pressure of his hand. “She thinks the people I associate with in films are all addicts, alcoholics, and adulterers.”

There was a beat of silence, then he said wryly, “I’m not sure the royal family is much better.”

She laughed, and asked, “Will our children have titles?”

“Our eldest son will be called Lord Riverton—that is one of my lesser titles and it is traditionally given to the heir. Our other sons will only be ‘Honorables,’ but our daughters will be called ‘Lady.’
”

“Mom will definitely like that,” she said with satisfaction. “I can just hear her now at the garden club. ‘My grandchildren, Lord Riverton and Lady Sarah, will be coming on a visit shortly.’
”

He sighed. “Well, I’m glad I can contribute something to this marriage. So far it has seemed that all the giving is coming from you.”

She moved closer to him and rested her head against his good shoulder. “Don’t be idiotic. What’s mine is yours and what’s yours is mine. That’s what marriage is all about.”

“Mmm.
” He brought her hand to his mouth and kissed the palm. “My shoulder is feeling much better this morning.”

“Is it?” She sounded skeptical.

“A good night’s sleep has done wonders.”

“Let me see it.” She leaned across him, pushed his old-fashioned pajama top out of the way and regarded the deep purple bruising that marred his shoulder.
“Ouch,” she said. “It sure looks worse than it did last night.”

“Bruising always gets darker. It doesn’t mean anything.”

She lowered her head and gently kissed the wounded area. “Poor baby. Between your head and your shoulder, you really have taken a beating.”

“
True. I could certainly use a little comfort right now.”

She leaned down and kissed his mouth, her hair spilling around them like a silken tent. “If you lie still and don’t move your shoulder,” she murmured.

“I promise,” he replied fervently.

“All right,” she said, and, after removing her pajama bottoms, swung her leg over him and bent forward to kiss him again.

30

L
ater that same morning, Dave told Tracy that Jon had been called away on urgent family business. “Thank God we’ve finished filming his scenes here at Silverbridge,” the director said. “He has some more shots in London but, since that’s where he’s gone, we should be able to get hold of him to finish up.”

“I’m sure you can,” Tracy replied smoothly. “Dave, I want to let you know that I’m going to be staying here at Silverbridge when you go up to London. I’ve finished filming, but if you need me to reshoot anything, just let me know.”

He smiled at her affectionately. “You’ll make a beautiful countess, Tracy.”

Her eyes widened in surprise. “How did you know we were planning to marry?” They were standing near the catering truck, which was dispensing elevenses. A number of other people were standing around, drinking tea and eating biscuits, but no one tried to join them.

Dave laughed at her question. “Are you kidding? One would have to be blind, deaf, and dumb not to sense the chemistry between you two.”

Tracy didn’t know if she should be pleased or embarrassed by this reply. She said, sounding a little flustered, “It doesn’t have to mean marriage. We could just be having an affair.”

He shook his head. “It’s serious with Silverbridge. One can see that immediately.”

“It’s serious with me, too,” she replied.

The elevenses group began to break up, and Dave raised a hand in greeting as two of the electricians passed in front of him. He turned again to Tracy, “I hope this doesn’t mean you’re going to abandon your career?”

She had given this question some serious thought and so was able to reply firmly, “No, I quite like making movies. I won’t do so many, because I want a family, but I won’t give it up altogether.”

“Good.” His face was grave. “You proved yourself on this film, you know. You have real talent as well as beauty.”

Tracy felt immensely pleased. “Thank you, Dave. That means something, coming from you.”

He nodded. “Right, then. I’ll call you if I need you.” He leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Good luck, Tracy.”

“Thank you, Dave.”

A
t lunchtime, both Meg and Tony wanted to know what had happened to Harry’s shoulder, and he gathered
the two of them, along with Tracy, into the privacy of his office and told them about what had happened with Jon.

“
Melbourne?”
Tony said incredulously from the comfort of an old leather chair. “Why the hell would
Melbourne
want to kill you, Harry?”

Harry, who was sitting in his desk chair, replied, “Apparently he was Dana Matthews’s stepbrother, and he blamed me for her death. He was after revenge.”

“I can’t believe it,” Meg said from her chair next to Harry’s desk. “He was always so nice to me!”

“Yes, well, you weren’t the one he wanted revenge on,” Harry said wryly.

Tony got up, walked to the window, and turned to face his brother. “Are
you sure you’ve done the right
thing in letting him go? Won’t he be a danger to you in the future?”

Harry explained about the letters that he and Tracy were going to lodge with their solicitors. “So if something should happen to me,” he ended lightly, “make certain you see Trumbull. He’s got the information against Melbourne.”

Tony nodded abruptly, looking as if he was going to say something, changed his mind, and turned away to look out the window.

“Well,
I
think he should pay!” Meg said indignantly. “This isn’t a trivial thing, Harry. He tried to kill you!”

Harry glanced at Tracy and said with gentle humor, “Tracy felt the same way. Whoever said that women are less bloodthirsty than men?”

She smiled at him, and his dark eyes turned very bright.

Tony turned away from the window. “So the stable fire and the attempts on your life were two separate things after all.”

Harry nodded.

“Perhaps the fire marshal was wrong,” Meg said. “Perhaps the stable fire really was an accident.”

Tracy saw how Harry’s eyes held Tony’s, warning him to keep quiet. Harry replied, “I think you’re right, Meggie. Someone must have sneaked kerosene in to keep warm, and that’s what caused the fire.”

Tracy thought it would be a good idea to remove Meg and let the men talk. She looked at her watch, and said, “You’re going to miss your appointment with Beth if we don’t hurry, Meg.”

Meg looked undecided, then said to Harry, “For how long will I have to keep on with Beth? I’m doing super. I really don’t need her anymore.”

“One of the reasons you’re doing super is because you’re seeing Beth,” Harry returned. “I want you to stay with her until you leave for school.”

Meg hooked her hair, which had actually developed a shine, behind her ears. “I don’t mind seeing her, but she’s expensive, Harry, and I truly don’t think I need her anymore.”

Harry shook his head. “Don’t worry about the expense. All you need to concentrate on is getting well. That’s your job, Meggie. That’s what I need you to do.”

Meg still looked undecided, but said, “Okay.”

Tracy changed the subject. “I saw the neatest jacket in Aldridge’s. After your sessions, let’s go look at it. I think it would look great on you.”

“Really?” Meg’s worried expression returned. “Was it very expensive?”

“If you like the jacket, buy it,” Harry said. “You’re looking so pretty these days that you should have more than just jeans and sweaters to wear.”

Meg smiled shyly. “Am I really looking pretty?”

Tony said from his position at the window, “Harry and I are preparing to beat the boys off with cricket bats.”

Meg laughed.

Tracy, who had every intention of buying Meg the jacket herself, stood up. “Come on, Meggie. Time to
go
.
”

After the women had left, Tony sat in Tracy’s vacated chair, and said bluntly, “Was Martin the one who set the stable fire?”

Harry closed his eyes, then opened them, and said, “Yes. He told me that Mauley paid him a lot of money to do it. Ned was vulnerable to a bribe because he wanted to start his own stable.”

“You fired him, of course.”

“Well
…
no.”

Tony’s perfect eyebrows drew together, and he said emphatically, “Harry, the man burned down your stable.”

“I know.” Harry changed the position of his injured shoulder. “But he is deeply sorry. He told me he tried to put the fire out, but he couldn’t.”

Tony snorted. “Don’t tell me you believe that bullshit?”

“Actually, I do.”

Tony stared at him, and said tartly, “It’s one thing to have a soft heart, but quite another to have a soft brain.”

Harry picked up a sterling silver paper knife with his good hand and tried to explain. “Tony, I need Ned. I’ll never get another stable manager whom I trust to ride my horses the way I trust him. And I need him more than ever, now that I can’t ride myself.”

There was silence. Then Tony said carefully, “You think you can trust him? After what he did?”

Ha
rr
y put the paper knife down. “I can trust him with my horses. I’ll never feel the same way about him myself, but I know I can trust him with my horses. And that is what is most important to me.”

“You and your damned horses,” Tony said, his tone a mixture of exasperation and resignation.

“Ned got them out. He would never hurt the horses.”

Tony sighed, “And what do you plan to do about Mauley?”

Harry’s reply was instant. “There’s no way I can involve Mauley without involving Ned.”

Tony did not look surprised by this reply. “So Mauley goes scot-free, along with everybody else?”

Harry’s smile was wry. “I suppose so.”

Tony slowly shook his head.

Harry continued, “I’m going to go ahead and appeal Howles’s decision about the stable to the Secretary for the Environment. With luck, reason will prevail, and I’ll be allowed to rebuild with mode
rn
materials.”

“And if the secretary doesn’t overturn the E.H. decision?”

For the first time in the conversation, Harry looked
uneasy.
“
Tracy said she would rebuild the stable for me as a wedding present.”

Tony smiled. “Good for her.”

“I suppose,” Harry replied, the troubled expression still on his face.

Tony pointed his forefinger at his brother and said sternly, “Don’t you dare feel guilty about using Tracy’s money to improve Silverbridge. She has a vested interest in the place now. Her son will own it one day.”

Harry smiled faintly. “That’s what she said.”

“No one will think you married her for her money. It’s clear as water that you’re bonkers over her.”

“I didn’t realize I was so transparent,” Harry said ruefully.

“You both are.” Tony leaned back in his chair. “I gather you don’t want Meg to know about Ned?”

“No.” Harry was positive. “She won’t be able to hide her feelings, and I prefer to keep my environment as pleasant as possible.”

Tony nodded, put his hands on his chair arms, got to his feet, and said gloomily, “Well, I’m afraid I’m going to have to go back to London and show my face at Witherspoon, Harris and Smith. It looks as if my career as a hotel, golf-course manager is not to be.”

Harry’s expression was unreadable. “Ambrose Percy is going to build a new hotel somewhere in England. Why don’t you talk to him about managing it?”

Tony said derisively, “Do you know how many people will want that job? And I don’t have any experience. The reason Mauley was giving me the position was because I’m your brother, and he hoped I could convince you to sell. I don’t have any strings to pull with Percy.”

Harry said mildly, “You could tell him that your brother and his wife will throw a huge opening party there if you’re in charge. We’ll guarantee that some of the royals will attend. Even better, Tracy will get some Hollywood stars.”

Tony sat down again and stared at Harry. “Will you really do that?”

Harry said, “If you want the job, we’ll do it.”

“That sort of job would suit me perfectly. And I’d be good at it.”

“I know you would be.”

Tony’s eyes gleamed. “If you and Tracy threw a party like that, it would get an enormous amount of publicity.”

“I know,” Harry said resignedly.

Tony stood up again. “You’re a trump, Harry! I think I
will
talk to Percy.”

Harry got to hi
s feet as well. “I’m off to the stables to see Ned. Then I told Tom Neeley that I would ride around the farm with him.”

“The country squire,” Tony said affectionately.

“It’s the life I like,” Harry said, and the two brothers left his office together in quiet amity.

F
ive days later, Tracy and Harry met in Harry’s office with Mark Sanderspn, the investigator Tracy had hired. Harry sat behind his desk, his arm still in a sling, the dogs at his feet. Tracy sat in a chair on the right side of the desk, and Sanderson sat on the opposite side, facing them both. He was giving his report on Dana
Matthews’s stepbrother, and when he finished he fell silent, waiting for questions
.

Tracy let Harry speak first. “I find it damn peculiar that Dana and Melbourne kept their relationship a secret,” he said. “What was the reason for that?”

Sanderson smoothed his neat black mustache. “The neighbors told me that when
Dana left home, she severed al
l ties between herself and her family. I assume that she wanted to keep it that way permanently.”

“Did something happen to make Dana run away from home when she was only fifteen?” Tracy asked. “It seems such a drastic step.”

Sanderson looked at the printed report that lay on the desk in front of Tracy. “In there you’ll see that I talked to a woman, Marianne Keys, who had been a school friend of hers. According to Mrs. Keys, Dana’s mother had had a succession of men friends before she married William Melbourne. Dana confided that she had been sexually abused by two of them.”

Harry made a muffled noise, and Tracy looked at him. His wide-set brown eyes held a mixture of anger and pity.

Sanderson continued, “Mrs. Keys also told me that Dana and Jon were sexually involved.”

Harry swore under his breath.

“Mrs. Keys thinks that Dana ran away to get clear of Jon,” Sanderson finished.

“Dear God,” Tracy said.

“It’s not a pretty story,” Sanderson agreed.

Tracy looked at Harry. “He took his own guilt out on you. He needed to blame someone else for what she had become, for the way she died, and he chose you.”

He nodded, his face looking strained.

Sanderson turned to Tracy. “I also did some investigation into that other matter, Miss Collins.”

Harry’s head turned in her direction. “What other matter?”