Wickeds Scandal (The Wickeds) (38 page)

He ducked just in time to avoid a blow to
the head.  The man came at him from the side and Sutton pivoted, but his
foot slipped on the wet street. A knife nicked his ribs.  He spun and
kicked, his foot catching the man on his stomach. 

The man went down to one knee, trying to
catch his breath.

Sutton clenched his fists, ready for his
attacker to get up. “Who sent you?”

A shadow fell across Sutton’s shoulders while
he focused on the man before him.  The rough feel of a rope draped around
his neck, forming a noose.  Immediately he reached up, sticking his
fingers between neck and rope, to keep from strangling.  The heavy cord
drew tighter making his fingers bleed.

Sutton swung from side to side, desperately
trying to dislodge the man who stood behind him holding the rope.  He
swung one arm wide, attempting to strike a blow. His fist hit nothing but
air. 

The man behind him snickered. 
“Archie says hello.”

 The rope continued to cut off his
air supply.  He saw stars.  He saw Alex’s face.

The rope tightened until Sutton stopped
thrashing.  Light faded from around his eyes.  The toe of a boot
kicked his ribs as he fell to the dock. Hands picked him up and carried him to
the water’s edge, then flung him in the air.  The shock of the icy water
made him gasp for breath against the wrench of the rope.  His body was
pulled rapidly down through dark water. The assassins took no chances. A large
weight attached to the other end of the rope hastened his descent into
darkness.  His last conscious thought was of Alex and how incredibly angry
she would be with him if he died.

Alexandra helped herself to another
muffin.  Mrs. Cowries adored baking and Alexandra was a willing test
subject for her housekeeper’s new recipes. These particular muffins were filled
with berries and held a hint of vanilla.  Alexandra liberally applied
butter to the still steaming muffin and turned her attention to the letter on
the breakfast table.  Alexandra addressed her swollen stomach.

“Your Aunt Miranda is most upset that we
are still here and not at Blackburn Heath.” She chuckled and patted the mound
again.  “Now I fear it is too late.  But she is making plans to join
us here.”

Miranda and the Dowager still resided at
Blackburn Heath.   At first shocked that Alexandra would leave them
to return to Helmsby Abbey, the Dowager gave into Alexandra’s
stubbornness.  She’d agreed to maintain the charade that Alexandra was at
Blackburn Heath.  Now that Alexandra admitted she carried the heir to
Cambourne, the Dowager and Miranda were determined to bring her to them. 
Alexandra refused to budge.  Now it didn’t matter.  She was simply
too large to travel. Her child would be born at Helmsby Abbey.

She put down Miranda’s letter and stood,
wobbling a bit.  Her enlarged size amazed Alexandra.  Mrs. Cowries
suspected twins but Alexandra claimed her size was due to the enormous amount
of food Mrs. Cowries continued to tempt her with.  She patted her stomach in
contentment.  If not for Sutton, Alexandra would be blissfully happy.

No letter had ever arrived.  Nor had
he communicated with the Dowager or his sister.  Alexandra assumed her
husband communicated with Viscount Lindley, but since her husband’s friend was
in Bermuda, she could not ask him.

Alexandra tried not to think of
Sutton.  Most days she succeeded.  The renovations to Helmsby Abbey
took nearly every waking moment, and when not supervising the building of the
new barn, Alexandra tended to Cambourne.  But, at night, Sutton invaded
her dreams.

She woke nearly every morning by reaching
out to touch the pillow next to her head, disappointed each time that Sutton’s
dark head did not grace it.  Alexandra dreamed of the dragon, its endless
tail stretching out as far as she could see.  She begged the tail to wind
around her and bring her to Sutton. He had to be at the other end.  
Except he never was.

The baby kicked, firmly, interrupting her
thoughts.  She watched in amazement as her stomach rippled and moved. 
Closing her eyes, she thought of the child she carried.  No matter what
happened, she would have a piece of Sutton.  Forever.  Cherished and
loved by her.  The child would want for nothing.  Sutton had set
aside a huge sum of his fortune in Alexandra’s name, in case, she thought
sadly, he never returned.  If the child were a girl, Herbert would receive
only the entailed estates and the title.  Alexandra often wondered if
Jeanette, immersed in her greed and ambition, sure of her intelligence and hold
on Sutton, would think him capable of outsmarting her.

A carriage rolled into the drive of
Helmsby Abbey bearing the Cambourne coat of arms.  Alexandra’s heart
caught in her throat.  She hurried to the front door, clenching her hands
in excitement.  She opened the door and rushed out to the drive.

The carriage door swung open and a spill
of violet silk followed.  “Goodness, Alexandra! You look as if you
swallowed the Christmas goose!”

Alexandra felt her face freeze into a
smile and tried not to show her disappointment.  Miranda.  But she
wasn’t quick enough.

Dazzling emerald eyes regarded her with
regret.  “You thought I was Sutton.”  Miranda murmured something
comforting and held Alexandra close.

Alexandra hugged her friend
tightly.  Helmsby Abbey was isolated and she missed Miranda. “I am so very
glad you are here.”  She pulled back from Miranda’s embrace.  “So
glad.”  Taking Miranda’s hand, she led her up the walk.  “Not in the
least disappointed.”

 “My goodness, Alex!  What a
charming place.  And you say there is a library?  Oh, I shall adore
getting my hands dirty while I help you clean it.  I am relieved that your
horrid uncle didn’t sell your books as he did the furniture.” 

“Odious Oliver never did see the value in
books,” Alexandra said wryly.

Miranda waltzed through the large front
door and removed her bonnet, tossing it on a side table.  Jameson, the
aged butler, moved as quickly as he could to catch Miranda’s cloak.

“My apologies, my lady.”  His hand
shook, as he collected Miranda’s things.

Miranda looked over his head at
Alexandra.  A smile twitched her lips.

“This is Jameson.   Jameson,
this is Lady Miranda Reynolds.  See that the blue room is made up for
her.”

Jameson nodded, hurrying away as fast as
his aged legs could carry him.  When he vanished around a corner, Miranda
burst into laughter.

“He is even older than
Grandmother!”  Miranda looked at Alexandra, all amusement gone from her
gaze.  “You were right to save them, Alexandra.  Because of you they
have a home.”

“Yes, well,” her voice caught, “it has
cost me dearly.” A sob left her lips. 

Miranda moved forward, but Alexandra
waved her away.  “It’s all right.  Women’s nerves.  The
baby.”  She ran her hands over her stomach.

Miranda looked as if about to mention Sutton,
then thought better of it.  She smiled brightly.  “Yes!  The
baby.  I am full of questions.  Does it kick?  Do you dream
about it?  I say that only because I read once that a woman who is
enceinte
will sometimes dream about her child and the dreams come true. And
furthermore –“

Alexandra laughed, grateful her friend
had chosen a subject Alexandra did not mind discussing. “Miranda – that
is quite the most anyone has said to me in quite some time.  I must catch
my breath.”

Miranda giggled, her green eyes bright
and so like Sutton’s that Alexandra felt a spurt of longing for him. 
Tears welled in her eyes.

Miranda cocked her head, her green gaze
alight with intelligence.  “He’s a dimwit, Alex.  I never thought to
say such a thing about Sutton, but he is just, well, he’s got to be addled to
leave you.”  Miranda put her hand to Alex’s cheek.  “He does love
you, you know.  I saw it that day at Thrumbadges.  He’s just a bit
– damaged.”

Alexandra shook her head. “Miranda, you
don’t need to –“

“I know all about that business between
him and my mother. You must understand.” Miranda made a face. “She’s a terrible
person, my mother.  When we were children, well I should say that when I
was a child, Sutton is nine years my elder, my mother used to say things to
him.  Wrong things when father wasn’t around.  I knew even then she
hated him.”  Miranda sighed. “Sutton used to moon after Mother. 
Obeyed her every whim.  He was so desperate for her to love him. I often
wondered why, as she never loved me and I didn’t miss it.”  Miranda
shrugged nonchalantly, but Alexandra noted the thread of hurt in her words. “I
am not excusing his behavior, Alex.  I just want you to understand that
Sutton never allows anyone to see who he really is, but I suspect he allowed
you to, and it scared him.  That’s why it was so easy for Mother to drive
him away.”

“I should have told him, Miranda.”

“I think it’s actually Grandmother’s
fault.  She shouldn’t have purchased Helmsby Abbey without telling you, or
him, though it’s glorious by the way.”

“I don’t blame the Dowager.  I blame
myself.”  Alexandra’s brow wrinkled.  “I should have told him before
I married him but I was –“

“Afraid he would run away?  Mother
did this to him before.  Years ago.”  She cocked a brow at
Alexandra.  “But we won’t speak of that now.” She gave a pointed look at
Alexandra’s stomach.  “I know grandmother’s told you everything.  In
case –“

“Sutton doesn’t return.”  The words
hung in the air between them.  So the Dowager had lost hope that her
grandson would come back to England.  A feeling of desolation stole over
her.  She needed to be strong.  Alexandra raised her chin and
fiercely pushed away the fear she felt. 

Miranda nodded in approval.  “He
will return, Alexandra, and when he does I expect you to give him hell.”

***

Alexandra walked down the hallway towards
her study, ready to do battle with a stack of letters from London and the
never-ending ledgers.  Miranda had received a note yesterday that a
package awaited her.  Since her sister-in-law’s arrival a month ago,
Miranda seemed determined to re-stock the Helmsby Abbey library with every book
Thrumbadge’s offered.  Delighted that her latest batch of tomes had
arrived, Miranda commandeered a groom to take her into the village and assist
her in picking up the package.  Miranda chattered non-stop to the groom as
she seated herself in the Cambourne carriage.  The groom, Michael, sent
Alexandra a look of suffering before he snapped the reins. 

Alexandra plopped herself down in the
ancient, overstuffed leather chair and wiggled her feet.  They were terribly
swollen.  Mrs. Cowries soaked them every night, but it didn’t seem to
help.  The size of her stomach certainly gave credence to Mrs. Cowrie’s
theory that Alexandra carried twins.  One hand rested on the mound while
her other hand picked up freshly sharpened quill.  Her hand hovered over
the paper.  The curtains of the study were drawn.  Someone was in the
room with her, hiding in the dark far corner.

“Hello, niece.”  Oliver Burke
emerged into the dim light and waddled towards her.  He looked
awful.  His skin sagged around his chin and his eyes held a yellow
cast.  The bit of gray hair left on his head hung to his shoulders in
greasy strands.

Alexandra felt bile rise in her
throat.  Horror and revulsion filled her. Her uncle!  Here!

“My, but you’ve been busy.  Renovating
this pile of manure and managing Cambourne.  But I see you have a vested
interest.”  His hooded eyes took in her swollen form. “That must be the
heir to Cambourne.  Pity we won’t need him.  We’ve found another.”       

Alexandra’s heart raced. “Mrs. Cowries!
Jameson!  Derek!” 

“Oh, that won’t do any good, my
dear.  Besides the fact that your servants are so decrepit that they
couldn’t give you assistance if they tried, I’ve locked them in the barn. 
Mrs. Cowries in particular was not pleased to see me.  I always did find
her a bit above herself.”  Her uncle leaned over the desk, his fetid
breath making her gag.  “No matter, we’re going to set the barn on fire.”

Alexandra paled.  “Miranda –“

“Will meet with an accident in the
village.”  He shook his head at her shocked look. “Just a carriage
wheel.  But she will be delayed.”

“Get out.  Get out of my
house!  You vile, horrible man.”

Odious Oliver flinched.  “I’d be
careful, girl, what you say to me.”

A carriage rolled into the courtyard.

Alexandra looked expectantly towards the
door, praying for help.

 “Why couldn’t you have just married
Runyon?  Now things are going to go much harder for you.” Odious Oliver
laughed as Alexandra flitted from behind the desk and moved to put the wall at
her back.

Alexandra regarded her uncle with
shock.  Her breathing quickened.  She needed a weapon. Cold metal
touched her skin.  Her grandfather’s sword.  Eyes never leaving her
uncle’s face, she slid the sword into the folds of her skirt.

The sound of the front door opening met
her ears.

Oliver shot a worried glance at the
door.  Sweat ran down his cheeks.         

“Who is here?”