Blood Lust (31 page)

“I am not staying here,” he said pulling himself up off the seat. “I’ll be comin’ right along with you. I wouldn’t be doing my duty if I didn’t.”

Trying not to look frustrated, she accepted the man’s rough hand and let him help her down from the carriage. “I understand you are trying to protect me, Mr. Long, but this is something I must do alone.”

He stubbornly shook his head. “Your husband hired me to protect ye.”

“That is correct, Mr. Long. My husband is paying your wages. If you wish to keep earning them, I suggest you follow his wife’s wishes.” that convoluted logic was undoubtedly the opposite of reality. William would be furious to discover she had gone, even with Long to accompany her. But what else could she do?

She pulled the hood of her cloak up over her head and picked up the small brass lantern she’d had the foresight to bring along. “I won’t be long, sir. You will be able to see the light from here.”

He shifted uneasily, his eyes darting toward two drunken seamen staggering into the alehouse. Katherine gave him a confident smile and no more time to argue, just turned and briskly made her way toward the alley beside the alehouse. Harsh singing, the music of a bawdy sea shanty drifted out from inside the building, but the alley looked deserted. Except for a blind man, a beggar who sat in the shadows, a worn blanket pulled closely around him, she saw no sign of the man that she was suppose to meet.

Her unease built, stretched her nerves. She whirled at the noise in the darkness, saw the furry bodies of two big gray rats scurrying behind some empty boxes and fought down a shiver of fear.

The crunch of gravel beneath a man’s heavy boots sent a second shiver through her. She glanced toward the carriage, saw the vague outline of Long, but the fog was closing in and he seemed a long way off.

“Is anyone here?” she call out, her heart thumping now, her fear growing with each rapid pulse. “I’ve come instead of Lord Habersham. Please, if anyone is here. . .” A shadow loomed above her, tall and heavy across the shoulders, dark and sinister in the swirling white mist.

Katherine cried out as a thick arm snaked around her shoulders and he dragged her hard against him. His hand came up, callused and blunt-fingered. She caught the glitter of a blade, felt the man’s muscles tighten, screamed and tried to twist free, but his grip was a solid band of iron clamped around her.

She tried to scream, but his muscled forearm choked off the sound. With a flash of clarity, she realized the man who held her was the man who had killed Jane Roberts and that she was about to die.

“Sorry miss,” he mumbled with genuine regret, then the blade swept down, down in an arc toward her throat. Katherine closed her eyes against the moment of anticipated pain, but it never occurred. Instead, the arm was wrenched upward, away from her neck, as dear Mr. Long stepped into the fray.

With a grateful cry, Katherine twisted free of her huge attacker and slammed back against the wall, her feet going out from under her, tumbling her into the dirt of the alley. She scrambled to right herself, her heart pounding with fear for Mr. Long who was fighting so valiantly to save her.

“Run, my lady! Save yourself while you can!”

She wanted to, but she could not leave him to die. Instead she frantically searched the alley for a weapon, finally found a rusty length or iron and whirled it toward the huge man gripping poor Mr. Long by the neck.

Long was unconscious, she saw, already dead or very near to dying from lack of air. Saying a prayer for the strength she needed, she swung the heavy iron with all her might, catching their assailant hard across the ribs, and heard the satisfying crack of home. A vicious curse erupted, Long’s unconscious body slumped to the ground and Katherine nearly fainted as the huge man whirled and started toward her.

Holding the heavy piece of iron, her hands trembling so badly she wasn’t sure she could hold on, she faced him, certain she and Long were both going to die on this filth, rat infested alley. Instead the big man took two lumbering steps and froze. Staring over her head, he clenched his fists, swore something foul, turned and raced off down the alley the opposite way.

For several long seconds, Katherine just stood there clutching the rusty length of iron, shaking with fear and the first sweet stirrings of hope. It took a moment for her to recognize the echo of long, pounding strides slamming against the ground behind her, approaching at nearly a flat out run. An instant later she recognized whose they were and spun with overwhelming relief toward the sound.

“William!” the coachman ran along beside him, carrying one of the carriage lanterns into the gloom of the alley, lighting the harsh set of Lord Habersham’s face. William raced past in pursuit of her attacker, halting some distance away, his dark gaze searching the thick, swirling mist that had swallowed the man as if he had never been there. Turning, he retraced his steps, stopping in front of her, his tall hard body just inches away.

In the glow of the lantern, the coachman knelt beside Mr. Long still sprawled on the ground and Katherine heard Long’s groans.

“Is he all right?” William called out to the driver, never taking his eyes off Katherine’s face.

“He’ll be fine, your lordship. Just some nasty bumps and bruises. I’ll help him back to her ladyship’s carriage.”

William simply nodded. In silence, he reached for the heavy piece of iron still clutched in Katherine’s hand, pried it loose from her stiff, aching fingers. His eyes roamed around her face, gouging lines across his forehead. “Are you all right?”

She nodded, her throat too tight to speak.

“What in the name of God did you think you were doing?”

Katherine didn’t answer, couldn’t force the words past her lips.

“You could have been killed! How could you do such a crazy thing?”

Tears fell. She still didn’t speak.

“My God, Katherine. . .” William’s hand came up to her cheek. She noticed that it trembled, “what am I going to do with you?”

Hold me. Please William, I’m so frightened, she wanted to say. Won’t you please hold me?

Instead she didn’t say the words. She didn’t have to. With a low groan, William picked her up into his arms, cradling her tightly against him. “How could you be so reckless? How could you risk yourself that way?”

She tried hard to fight back her tears and sucked in a shaky breath. “There wasn’t time to wait for you. I hoped the man would know something that could help you. I had to take the chance.”

She paused outside the door. “I guess Thomas remembered to give you the message.”

His hands came up to her shoulders, gripped them so hard she winced. “What if he hadn’t, Katherine? Or if I had arrived a few minutes later? Do you realize you would probably be dead?” A sliver of moon slid out from behind a cloud. In the watery light William’s face looked drawn and pale.

His words brought the ugly scene rushing back in and Katherine started trembling, her muscles turning rubbery and weak. Limp from the remnants of exhaustion and fear, she reached out to him, caught his arm to keep from falling, and heard his softly muttered curse.

Hard arms went around her, swept her deeper into the folds of her cloak and high against his chest. “Good God, Katherine.” Carrying her into the safety of his carriage, he settled her on his lap and held her protectively against him all the way home.

Katherine could feel the tension still running through him, the remnants of anger and fear he fought to control.

“I suppose it was a trap,” she finally said, breaking into the silence.

His hold tightened merely indiscernibly. “I suppose it was. I’m still not certain if it was meant for you or for me.”

Katherine shifted, turned to look into his face. “It was the man who killed Jane, so he must have been after me.”

William shook his head. “The note was sent to me. If your brother had remembered to give it to me, I would have gone to the alehouse instead of you. My brother must have sent the message. He probably discovered I’m still alive and set a trap for me.”

“But it was the man who killed Jane Roberts, I’m sure of it.”

“That’s right. Undoubtedly, my brother’s henchman. It would appear he intends to see both of us dead.”

Katherine said nothing, but an icy shiver ran through her. Turning her face into William’s heavily muscled shoulder, she snuggled deeper into his arms, but this time, even Lord Habersham’s powerful presence could not make her feel safe.

Chapter Twenty-One

The morning of Sir Paul Stanwick’s funeral was windy and chilly, gray clouds hung over the small family plot on the hill above Stanwick Manor.

The service itself was a short memorial in the local parish church, not the elaborate pageant in a London cathedral her father would have wanted. Elizabeth, however, thought that her father would forgive her in this. She wasn’t up to facing the hundreds of people who would have been obliged to attend, now that his daughter was married to a duke.

Standing beside the grave, waiting for her father’s casket to be lowered into the earth, she thought of Benjamin with his carefully manufactured, sympathetic expression, and his black satin armband, and the image brought a bitter taste to her mouth.

The duke of Sussex felt no sympathy. And he certainly felt no remorse. Benjamin had done this, she knew it in the depths of her being. The duke of Sussex had murdered her father. He had no scruples, not a single ounce of compassion when it came to getting what he wanted.

Standing rigidly beside him, Elizabeth fervently wished that she were her father’s son instead of the weak, spineless woman she felt like in that moment. She wished she had the courage to plunge a knife into his black heart.

The services came to an end and he reached over and patted her arm. “Come, my dear.” His long, sad-faced countenance only heightened her loathing. “It’s time we left all this sorrow behind and returned to the city.”

Her stomach rolled. “I thought to stay here, your grace. At least for a while longer.”

Benjamin shook his silver-wigged head, moving the fat rolled curls beside his ears. “Nonsense. It’s time you returned. You’ve responsibilities, now that you are a duchess. Giving me an heir is one of them. It is well past the time I planted my see and got you heavy with child.”

Elizabeth nearly collapsed. Benjamin’s hold around her tightened and the moment passed. “I am sorry, my lord. It’s simply that I grieve so for my father. Can you not see your way to leaving me here until the feelings pass?”

His mouth pursed with disapproval. “You’ll go home with your husband. That is the last I wish to hear on the subject.” Benjamin turned away from her, walking over to see one of her father’s closest friends, and began a discussion of the profitable investments the man had helped her father make over the years.

She wondered where the earl was and what he was doing. She wondered if he worried at least a little about her. His tall image appeared in her mind as plainly as if he stood there. Tears stung her eyes. She knew it was more than grief for her father that caused them.

William leaned over the sketch Damien had made of a warehouse building he owned on the London docks. They had chosen the place as the meeting point for their rendezvous with Benjamin.

“There is a small room here at the back.” Damien pointed toward the back of the building. “Benjamin won’t be able to see it. We will position the magistrate inside the room. He can see through a small unobstructive window and listen to what is being said without anyone knowing he is there.”

“Have you spoken to him yet?” William asked. “He may not be all that eager to help.”

“No, but he’ll do it. He is somewhat in debt for a favorable investment I suggested to him several years back. Avery is a member of a card club I belong to. I plan to speak to him before the meeting tomorrow night.”

“And you are certain we can trust him?”

“I believe him to be an honest man. I don’t think we can trust him to know the truth of your identity, not until after Benjamin’s confession. He would be duty bound to turn you in.”

But what if my brother does not confess? William was thinking. What if he doesn’t admit to anything? If he didn’t say the words out loud, both of them knew the answer to that.

“If what happened last night is any indication,” William continued, “we can be pretty sure my brother knows I’m still alive. He won’t be particularly surprised to receive a message suggesting we meet.”

“True, but unfortunately since it eliminates the element of surprise, it would have been better if he hadn’t found out until we were ready. I’m certain the man would have been badly unnerved to see you in the flesh after all these years.”

“I’m sure it would.” William replied bitterly.

“In any case, we shall have move on. We need his confession, and one way or another, we’re going to get it.”

“I wonder how he found out I was here.” William said to no one in particular.

A noise at the doorway, stirred him from his thoughts. “I’m not certain he has.” Katherine stood just inside the study doorway.

“I’m afraid I don’t follow,” he said, his eyes running over her, an unexpected jolt of pleasure assaulting him at the sight of her.