The Third Duke's the Charm (25 page)

Lucien stood in the circle of a small clearing with the river whispering past in a lazy flow, his dark hair gleaming in the afternoon sun, his gaze fastened on a man who, incredibly enough, held a pistol aimed directly at his chest. Without even looking at her, he said quietly, “Vivian, leave us.”

The unknown man disagreed. “As usual, we are at odds, Lord Stockton. I invite her to stay. More to the point, if she even tries to leave, I will shoot you out of hand.”

That was an effective threat. Since she was still shaken by the damage done to the conservatory and the general bizarre events of this particular morning, she didn’t move a muscle, though her horse must have sensed the unrest for it paced to the side.

“I’m sincere, Miss Lacrosse. Don’t think I’m not.”

He knew who she was? As far as she could tell, he was a stranger.

“Vivian, run.”

The man turned enough to give her a brief, cold-eyed stare. “If you value Lord Stockton’s life, I wouldn’t.”

She did. She couldn’t think of anything she valued more.

“I wasn’t going to,” she said with only a slight quaver in her voice. “All the noise has upset my horse.”

“Then control it.”

“Vivian,” Lucien hissed. “Leave.”

“I don’t think she will. She’s quite intelligent,” the man with the gun drawled, his accent English but with slightly rounded vowels. He wore unremarkable clothes, but they were of good quality she noted, and his weapon was polished to a high sheen that shone in the sun. He was about Lucien’s age if she had to guess, and his cold, inhuman smile made her skin take on a clammy feel. “You chose your future bride well, Stockton. It would be a pity if you were to die before you wed.”

His voice held enough of a certain threatening note—not to mention the pistol—that she obediently slid off and disregarded Lucien’s orders, holding the reins tight. If she turned her mount and ran maybe she could summon help, but it wasn’t worth the risk. What if he meant the threat?

“Ah, an obedient maiden. Rather lovely too. My lord, you are a lucky man.”

“I was,” Lucien responded shortly, “until I crossed paths with you. Now then, I repeat, what do you want?”

“An excellent question.”

Not that he was actually looking at her because he was focused on Lucien, but still, she did her best to calm the fractious mare, patting the animal’s neck and wondering wildly just what could be happening.

The stranger said calmly, “When Northfield contacts you tell him to meet me in three days’ time in Portsmouth. I’ve written down the name of the inn. He’s already taken the precaution of sequestering his family, but perhaps after today he will grasp my determination to end our battle. You told me your fiancée and his wife are good friends during our brief meeting a few weeks ago, did you not? What a pity, if due to him, his wife lost one of her dearest companions?”

The chill she experienced was unwelcome and a muscle in Lucien’s jaw twitched.

“I have no reason to think he’ll contact me. It will take a few days for me to get back to London with all the damage done to the house thanks to you and if he has gone into hiding, Artemis, I doubt I can find him if you can’t.”

Artemis
? She had never heard the name, and at the moment, quite frankly, wished she’d never seen the man.

“Ah, but see, I think you can find him.” Artemis waved the pistol a little, making her heart freeze. “He’ll find
you
, actually, when he realizes that because of him, he’s put you all in danger. I admire his skills, and his sense of self-preservation is honed, but this isn’t complicated. Already you were kidnapped in his place. This recent series of events will make him understand he can’t protect everyone he knows. No man can. It is that simple.”

“It surely is an inefficient way to do this.”

Do what
?

“Inefficient in what way?” Artemis looked amused and it wasn’t a pleasant sight. “If his wife lost her very dear friend, I think it would bring him a great deal of strife.” He added with lethal softness, “And no one deserves it more.”

Lucien was going to do something rash, Vivian could see it in his expression. She let go of the reins and the mare shied away, leaving the clearing with a rebellious snort. She wasn’t interested in being part of this unknown man’s revenge against Damien, but she was terrified about the danger Lucien was in at the moment, and . . .

“Good morning. Ah, I see you are your usual charming self, Artemis.”

The sound of the cool drawl made Vivian stiffen. Instead of his typical immaculate attire Lily’s husband wore fawn breeches and a white shirt open at the neck, no cravat, and a dark coat that was more serviceable than fashionable. His unconcerned stroll into the clearing would have been more effective if it wasn’t for his pronounced limp.

He, too, held a pistol.

There were three men now, all facing off: Lucien, unarmed, on one side of the clearing; Artemis, whoever he was, in the middle; and now Damien on the other side.

She should turn and run. She very much doubted anyone was paying attention to her any longer.

But she didn’t. She was unaccountably rooted to the spot, frozen in place.

“Northfield.” The stranger transferred his attention to the newcomer, his eyes glittering “This is an unexpected pleasure, but then again, we have always enjoyed surprising each other. Good, this makes the pleasure of killing you more immediate. I’ve been waiting long enough as it is.”

“I think ‘enjoyed’ is an optimistic choice of words.” Damien gave a brief glance her way. “Vivian is not a part of this feud, nor is Stockton. Shall we just settle this between us? Let them go.”

“And lose my leverage? Why ever would I agree to that?”

Chapter Twenty-seven

It wo
uld be immensely helpful if Northfield would give him an indication of what he had planned. Lucien was shackled by his fear that Vivian might be injured if he as much as moved an inch her way, and he understood quite clearly that the man who faced him back in Spain—and who was facing him now—had a vendetta to settle. If the offhand order to kill him in Minorca was any indication, he also had little respect for human life.

A battle that had spanned a war, an ocean, and now invaded this quiet corner of England was being waged on a private level and he was unfortunately entangled in it.

It had tainted his life, but for the moment all he wanted was to get the woman he loved out of harm’s way.

“I agree,” he said with as much composure as possible. “Vivian has no part of this. Let her leave. If you need leverage, I’ll stay.”

He was ignored.

“You are as astute as ever,” Artemis said to Northfield, his smile thin. “You anticipated this move.”

“After all those years on opposing sides, I’ve learned how you think.” Northfield stood unmoving, framed in the backdrop of trees. “Did you think I wouldn’t try to understand my worst enemy?”

“Worst? I’m flattered. I’ve no doubt you have many.”

“Flattery wasn’t the intention.”

“Is that so? Tell me, if you are so astute, what comes next?” Artemis inclined his head a fraction, his expression hard to read.

“You want to make me suffer for your brother’s death.”

That explained a great deal indeed. Had someone killed Charles, Lucien would have also sought vengeance, but in a more straightforward way.

“I do. But that doesn’t answer my question.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Lucien saw Vivian move. Not much, just a few inches, but into the clearing rather than out of it. First she’d dismounted when he’d ordered her to leave, and now, when it would be prudent to run because Northfield and his nemesis were occupied with each other and she could actually escape, she came closer.

The idea of turning her over his knee if he could ever get his hands on her again held quite a lot of appeal. Her slippered foot actually cracked a twig.

Don’t
.

“You’ll get your ounce of flesh, I imagine, but this has nothing to do with Stockton or Miss Lacrosse. Why have witnesses to our conversation?”

He didn’t intend to have witnesses was the answer. Lucien could well remember standing in that sunny room over the beach in Minorca. The exact same look on his captor’s face then had sent him out that window.

He hadn’t felt inclined to let someone murder him then, and he didn’t now, and Vivian couldn’t be replaced, not to mention their child . . .

“What are we going to discuss that is so secret?” Artemis swaggered a little, his teeth bared in the parody of a smile, the pistol still extended. “Your past? How you slipped through Spain without any regulations or rules? Wellington valued you, the fool.”

“I brought him information.”

“You gave him my brother.”

“He was a traitor.”

There was another telltale snap and Lucien had to swallow a curse. At this point in the discussion Vivian should have fled if she had an ounce of sense.

For the first time, Northfield shot him a glance. Unfathomable. Impassive. Without instruction.

This wasn’t his life. Spies and intrigue . . . but God help him Lucien, thought he understood the unspoken message.

Distract him
.

How the hell was he supposed to do
that
?

“What happened?” he demanded, his voice ringing out. “I don’t even know what this is about.” He even took a step forward. “I demand an explanation.”

The gun swerved his direction. “Stop.”

He did. There were no illusions. He’d known this man was ruthless from their first meeting. Lucien lifted his hands up, palms forward, in supplication.

From his current position, he could hardly see Vivian because the infamous Artemis was blocking his view. Blast her independent spirit, she needed to leave at once but he didn’t dare pay too much attention to what she was doing because it would only make their hostile guest notice the direction of his gaze.

He needn’t have worried. The first solid crack rang clearly and Artemis jolted, his pistol going upward as he swayed. The second felled him, and suddenly Lucien could see his usually demure and unfashionable fiancée brandishing what appeared to be a branch over their would-be captor. In a clear voice she said, “Elm, Mr. Artemis. Quite a sturdy tree. A stately deciduous species often planted on estates like this one, and handy for both shade, and apparently to reprimand less-than-desirable trespassers. Did you have to destroy the conservatory? Do you know how much damage you’ve done?”

Lucien saw her lift the branch again, thought about all those beloved plants, not just of hers but of his father’s, and unlocked his rigid muscles enough to leap forward before she again hit a semi-conscious man who was already down on the ground, catching her arm. “That’s enough, my love. I think you’ve made your point. No need to maim or kill him. Let’s let a magistrate decide what happens next, shall we?”

Emerald eyes glistened in the sunlight with tears he guessed were more a reaction to the situation than for the conservatory. The branch in her hand was shaking. She whispered, “He killed everything.”

“We don’t know that.” He said it with as much reassurance as he could muster as he pushed the pistol to the side with his foot. “You all are constantly uprooting them and planting them other places. Surely most can be saved. I suspect you’ll have a busy next few days.”

“I hope you are right.” With reluctance she relinquished her weapon but sent a glare toward the man on the ground.

Northfield moved forward, his weapon still drawn and pointed. “I wish I could have prevented the attack. Lily might never speak to me again.”

“The attack on him?” Lucien had to resist his own murderous urges at the moment, but refused to cause injury to a fallen man.

At that, Damien summoned a smile. “No. The conservatory.”

Artemis groaned and rolled over.

“His mistake,” Lucien observed, drawing Vivian into his arms. She came, soft and willing, and he held her close. Her arms slipped around his waist and he inhaled the delicate fragrance of her hair. “Never threaten a dedicated botanist.”

“They do seem to be quite dangerous so I’ll take the advice to heart.” Northfield kneeled and efficiently tied the hands of Vivian’s victim with a piece of rope he extracted from his pocket. Apparently ex-spies came prepared. “I’ll stay here if you could please send along at least two sturdy footmen to help escort our unwanted guest to someplace secure.”

***

Out of chaos came order.

Fabric was draped over the missing conservatory walls, the servants milling the grounds dissipated and went back to their tasks, and the big house was quiet again. Vivian wandered to the window, looked out over the serene garden, and then turned back.

Louisa said, “I wonder if our children will believe this when we are old and relate to them the incredible events of what happened during the time we awaited their births.”

“You mean murderous traitors, canny spies, and explosives that destroy innocent plants?” Her voice was wry, but Charles’s wife had a point.

“Are there wicked plants?”

Vivian had to laugh because Louisa had a hint of mischief in her gray eyes. “You wouldn’t think so, but actually, some are quite poisonous, some emit not-so-lovely smells, and many species have
very
wicked thorns, so I can say unequivocally, yes. We rarely cultivate those, so I assert with some conviction that only innocent plants were destroyed. Where is Charles? Of all the men in this house I trust him the most to tell me the truth.”

“More than Lucien?”

She narrowed her eyes. “Lucien is harder to read. Charles cannot fool me after all this time. I learned long ago how to tell if he was lying.”

“She claims I quirk my lips a certain way.” The male voice came from the doorway of the salon. “I am not sure it’s true at all. I think she is just trying to intimidate me by pretending to have special deductive powers. Rather like the time she swore she could fly and coaxed me into trying her technique. I believe I broke my ankle jumping from that tree.”

It was lovely to see that his smile was genuine, and his wide shoulders relaxed. She retorted, “You were gullible as a child. That is hardly my fault.”

“How is your father?” Louisa’s face was strained. “This has been such a horrible day.”

“Are you feeling well?” Instantly Charles was across the room, kneeling at his wife’s side. “Perhaps you need to lie down.”

“She’s with child, Charles, not an invalid. Now, tell us what is happening.” Vivian actually put her hands on her hips, but she despised women who did that, so she dropped them as fast as possible. “If another pot of tea is delivered I might pour it over someone’s head.”

“I’d like to see that.” Lucien walked in, one eyebrow elevated. “I assume you would select me, but I am somewhat taller than you. Perhaps you could stand on a chair or else douse my boots.”

“Don’t tempt me.” She shot him a killing glance. “Where is Lord Damien?”

“On his way back to London, I imagine.”

“And?”

“My darling, and what?”

“I am not sure if you recall, there was a strange man with a gun pointed at you this morning. I think, in light of what transpired I am owed an explanation. I understand that Lily’s husband was his target and it all had something to do with the war, but that is all I know.”

Lucien ignored the teapot and poured himself some sherry. As usual, his movements were efficient and elegant. “It might be all we ever know. I wish I were more enlightened than you, but understand that wars cultivate enmity; that is the nature of war itself. Northfield arranged with remarkable speed for our unwanted guest to be taken discreetly away. He left just as quietly, and I suspect that is the end of it.”

Vivian stared at him. “You are content with that?”

“Governments have secrets. I think it is maybe best we not know some of them. Look at it in this way: Our villain was felled by a pregnant woman wielding a fallen branch. Elm, wasn’t it? Touted as sturdy and thick. I think there’s some justice there.”

Charles muttered, “She was always rather better than me at cricket.”

At this point, even she was tempted to laugh.

If it was truly over.

“Lucien, I was afraid for you.”

He stopped in the act of taking a drink. “Please don’t make me recall how I begged you to leave and you refused to do so. I was afraid for you
and
our child. I win.”

“He has a point, Viv.”

“This isn’t your argument,” she informed Charles with a sidelong glare.

He lifted his hands in surrender and tugged his wife to her feet. “Perhaps we should go and let them settle this between them. I’ve seen that expression before and it doesn’t bode well.”

When they left the room was very quiet. Lucien looked at her with a gravity in his eyes she hadn’t seen before. He said, “You cannot imagine how much I missed you when I was gone. This morning was like a recurring nightmare.”

She closed her eyes briefly. “Lucien, I was the one left behind. Just the possibility he might do you harm—”

“I’ve loved you for years.”

That brought her eyes open.

“Literally.” He looked away, as if meeting her startled gaze was too much. “You told me last night you thought you had fallen in love with me . . . well, I believe I just won this contest also. I
love
you. And if you ever endanger yourself like that again, I will lock you away and hide the key.”

It took her a moment to find her voice. “Surely you are jesting.”

“Vivian, do you think I am? I warn you, I am rather clever at hiding things.”

His inflection told her he wasn’t joking, and they were not talking about locking her away either.

“But I’ve always been so
unfashionable,
” she blurted out. “Why would you—”

“Who the devil cares about that?”

He was smiling at her now.

“I love you, too.” Her voice wavered, but she meant it, down to the tips of her toes.

“Shall we marry tomorrow then? Our child will still be early, but the whispers aside, legitimate, and after recent events, let’s not wait.”

It felt very natural to slip into his arms and his kiss was both warm and possessive. “Can we do it so soon?” she murmured against his mouth.

“Special license,” he said back. “My father is a duke after all.”