The Black Duke's Prize (15 page)

He had thought to outsmart her, had he? Well, he would find that task
not as easy as he obviously expected. He had done it before, the blackguard,
and she should have realized what he was up to. He had taken the Viscount of
Worton's estate during a card game, and now he sought to steal Crestley from
her. But he would not. No money had changed hands. She could still stop him.

Kate paced the room. Nicholas was going to pay for his behavior. He
couldn't make her care for him and then steal from her, especially after she
had told him how much she loved Crestley. He was far too wealthy for her to be
able to buy him off, but maybe she could otherwise convince him to back out of
the purchase. He was so certain that he had her wound around his little finger.
He probably even thought she had fallen in love with him. Well, she would use
that. She would use his own arrogance and pride against him. She would show
Nicholas Varon.

The clock on the stair landing chimed nine forty-five.

He would be there at any moment to meet with Lord Neville. Before she
had time to change her mind or lose her nerve, she dashed downstairs and found
the butler standing in the hallway. "Rawlins," she said, "when
the Duke of Sommesby arrives, please send him into the morning room."

"Yes, Miss Kate," he agreed, too well schooled to point out
that it was very odd for her to be receiving such a guest alone.

That done, she slipped into Lord Neville's office and found one of his
pistols in the bottom desk drawer. Her hand shaking, she removed it and hid it
in the folds of her skirt, feeling a need for some security against the duke's
infamous black temper. That done, she made her way back into the morning room
and waited by the mantel.

She only had to wait for ten minutes before a knock sounded at the front
door, and her breath caught in her throat. She heard muffled voices, and then
the morningroom door opened. Nicholas entered and looked at her, his
expression one of amused pleasure.

"You wanted to see me?" he asked, stepping forward and gazing
at her with obvious curiosity.

Involuntarily she took a step back. "Close the door, please."

He did as she asked, then came further into the room.

"You wanted to see me ... alone?" he continued, a wicked smile
spreading across his face. "Any reason in particular?' he queried softly,
stopping at the far end of the mantel and reaching a hand out toward her.

She winced. "It seems I have some trouble," she said, her
voice shaking just a little. She hoped he wouldn't notice.

He lowered his hand, his expression becoming serious. "What
trouble? Is it DuPres again? I'll kill him if he's touched you."

"Do you consider yourself a brave man, then, Your Grace?" she
asked, unable to keep a sneer out of her voice at his pretended concern.

He tilted his head at her. "Brave? I don't consider myself a
coward," he said after a moment.

"That's funny," she commented, watching him closely.

"What's funny?" he asked, confusion showing briefly on his
face. Again he came toward her, and she circled around the back of the couch,
keeping it between them. She held the pistol concealed behind her back, and it
felt heavy and awkward in her hand.

"I consider you a coward," she spat out, unable to remain
cool in the face of his obtuseness. "A coward and a liar and a
villain."

''What are you up to, Kate?" he murmured, his expression going
darker. "I told you it wasn't wise to bait me when we're alone together.
Especially with you looking this attractive." He paused for a moment,
looking at her. "You're not in trouble, are you?"

"No, I'm not," she responded. "But you are." She
lifted the pistol in the air.

"Good God!" he exclaimed, a look of complete astonishment on
his face. ''What are you―"

"You are the greatest coward in the world," she continued.

His expression became even more confused. "Excuse my
language," he grated out, ''but what the hell are you talking about?"

"Only a great coward like you would pay his attentions to a woman for
the purpose of cheating her out of her inheritance."

"Cheat―" He abruptly shut his mouth and stared hard at
her, then began to swear softly. "Crestley Hall. I should have realized.
Damn Neville."

"No. Damn you, sir," she retorted, fighting to hold the
shaking gun steady. "I won't let you steal my home away from me."

He took a step closer, and she leveled the pistol at his chest.
"Katherine, you don't know the whole story. Believe me, I would not do
this to you. Call Neville. He can explain."

"No."

He paused again, a cynical expression coming into his eyes as he looked
down at the pistol. "What are you going to tell them, that I was trying to
ravish you?"

She nodded, taking another step away from him as a grim smile came onto
his face. "Don't smile," she hissed angrily. "I mean to do
this."

"I have never doubted your resolve," he replied. "I only
find it ironic that after everything I have done I am about to be sent to
Jericho for something of which I am innocent."

"You are not innocent. And I am not one of those simpering chits
who sighs at your absurd compliments and your roses and thinks you mean them.
You didn't fool me for a moment."

This time his smile was genuinely amused. "But I did mean
them," he said softly, eyeing the pistol as it wavered in her hand.

"You never did," she replied, steadying the heavy weapon with
effort.

''Then what do you want of me? I am clearly at your mercy," he
noted, far too calmly for her liking.

This was becoming somewhat confusing. "I want you to stop your purchase
of Crestley Hall," she ordered.

"If I do, someone else will get it," he answered promptly.

"No, they won't," she retorted, tossing her head defiantly.
"Crestley is mine."

"Excuse me, but have you considered that if I were wooing you for
the sole purpose of stealing Crestley, all I would have to do is to convince
you to marry me? As your husband it would come to me anyway, and at a considerably
cheaper price."

She hadn't considered that. "It is because you mean never to
marry," she declared. "Lord Neville told me so."

''That's two l owe him," Nicholas murmured.

"And because you don't care for me. It was only a ruse."

"Even if I gave my word to you, how do you know you can trust
me?" he asked. "You have said I'm a liar and a coward."

"I suppose I shall have to trust you on that count," Katherine
responded hesitantly, wondering when he had taken control of the proceedings.

"No," he said, shaking his head, his lips pursed thoughtfully.
"If you refuse to believe that I can prove my innocence, I think you
shall have to kill me."

"You are a villain!" she protested, wanting with all her heart
to believe him and knowing that she couldn't. "I shall do it, you
know."

"Do you really want to kill me?" he asked, his voice softer.

"No," she answered truthfully, knowing that she had never had
any intention of doing so. She had never expected him to call her bluff.
"I mean, yes," she corrected herself, frowning.

He raised his hands away from his body. "Then kill me. I have no
other defense."

Doubt began to pull at her. She wanted him to be telling the truth. When
she had been angry the thought of revenging herself on him had filled her with
a grim satisfaction, but now everything had changed again. If only her heart
would stop aching so, and leave her be. She started to lower the weapon, then
jumped as she heard her godfather in the hall, no doubt wondering where
Sommesby had got to. Abruptly Nicholas launched himself at her over the back of
the couch. She shrieked and jerked the pistol away, and it went off.

Nicholas lurched sideways as the front window shattered and the sharp
report echoed out into the street. With a surprised look on his face he
collapsed onto the floor.

Katherine dropped the smoking pistol as the drawing room door burst
open. She had done it, when she hadn't meant to.

"Kate? What's going on?" Lord Neville asked, striding into the
room.

Katherine pointed shakily at the far side of the couch.

"I've killed him," she stammered, swaying dizzily.

"Killed whom?" he snapped, stepping around the end table.

"Nicholas," she whispered. "I've killed Nicholas."
Her knees buckled, and she would have fallen if Rawlins hadn't come up behind
her and braced her under the arms.

Lord Neville knelt down on the floor and touched his fingers to the
duke's neck, then sat back with a sigh of relief. "You haven't killed
him," he said. "Just put a hole in his shoulder. What in God's name
happened?"

He wasn't dead. Katherine closed her eyes, hearing nothing else. She
hadn't killed him. "He's trying to steal Crestley from me," she
managed to say after a moment, forgetting that she had made up another story in
case of an emergency.

"Trying to . . . Oh, no, Kate. No. He's been trying to save it for
you."

"What?" she exclaimed, incredulous. Nicholas had been telling
her the truth. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I am a great fool," her godfather replied.

"Rawlins, help me get him upstairs." He glanced toward the
doorway, where Lady Alison stood in front of the servants craning their necks
to see into the room. "Alice, send for a doctor."

The two men were able to carry Nicholas upstairs into one of the guest
bedchambers. Though she tried to follow, Kate was banned from the room. A very
pale Lady Alison led her to the library, where she poured them each a brandy.

"I think we need this," her godmother said, taking a swallow
and choking a little. "Now, please, Kate, tell me what in the world
possessed you to shoot Nick." she asked as she took a seat opposite
Katherine.

"I never meant to shoot him," Kate protested. "Mr. Hodges
gave me―" She paused at the confused look on her godmother's face.
"I hired Mr. Hodges to look into Crestley Hall. He came by this morning to
tell me that Nicholas was purchasing the deed. I thought . . . I thought that
he had been so pleasant because he didn't want me to suspect that he was
stealing it away from me."

Lady Alison groaned and sat back. "Oh, dear. We knew you had a
stubborn streak:, but my goodness, Kate, shooting the Duke of Sommesby?"

"I told you, it was an accident."

"I said from the beginning that we should have let you know what
was going on," Lady Alison said, disgust in her voice.

"What is going on, then?"

"Neville had a suspicion that your uncle would try to sell
Crestley, very quietly. He knew that he couldn't become involved because Simon
would have recognized the Hampton name and suspected a trap, so he asked Nick
to purchase it for him, no questions asked."

"And the duke agreed to that?" Katherine asked somewhat
skeptically.

"Yes." Her godmother looked at her again for a long moment.
"Until he realized that Crestley was yours and that you had no idea what
we were planning. He made Neville promise to tell you, which he did try to do,
unsuccessfully, yesterday morning."

Nicholas had been telling the truth. He hadn't played her along, at
least not for the purpose of stealing Crestley. "Why didn't you tell
me?" she wailed.

"Oh, my dear, we knew you were determined to handle this on your
own. We were concerned that if you knew Crestley was being put up for sale, you
might do something rash."

"Such as shoot someone?" she asked with a shudder. The library
door opened, and Lord Neville entered; Katherine found herself on her feet,
facing him. "Is he all right?" she asked, her voice breaking.

Her godfather crossed the room to pour himself a stiff drink. "The
ball went clean through. He's lost some blood, but the doctor says he'll
live." He knocked back the brandy, then looked over at Kate, who was
twisting her hands in front of her green muslin skirt. "He's asked to see
you."

Before he could say anything further Katherine was out the door and
running up the stairs. Outside the room she paused, abruptly nervous. Then she
took a deep breath and knocked. The doctor, a short, portly man with red
cheeks, opened the door.

"I've given him laudanum," he informed her. "Don't tax
him overly much."

"Too late for that," an irritated voice said from the bed.

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