Fated Folly (30 page)

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Authors: Elizabeth Bailey

Tags: #historical romance, #regency romance, #clean romance, #romance novel, #sweet romance, #traditional romance, #sweet reads

BOOK: Fated Folly
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‘
You'll regret it.'

Ashendon's pistol jerked forward.

‘
I doubt it, if you manage to shoot straight. I shall know nothing about it. But it will take a trifle of explaining on your part, don't you think?'

‘
Ha!' The sneer became ugly. ‘If you can make up a tale to satisfy the world, so can I.'

Rupert kept his eyes on Ashendon's. He must hold his attention to hold him at bay. Long enough to get close enough? It was the only chance he had. He inched forward as he spoke.

‘
But can you satisfactorily explain away a bullet hole? I had only a broken head to contend with.'

Ashendon let out a harsh laugh, and the pistol waved a little off target.

‘
Easy, cousin. Poachers, of course. And like you, I have no witnesses.'

But there would be witnesses, Rupert realised suddenly. For somewhere in the background, he could hear movement. Someone was coming this way. And at speed, if he was any judge. He had only to keep Ashendon talking.

There were perhaps ten yards between them now. If the boy pulled the trigger, he would hit him for certain. Could Rupert afford to wait? Would bravado work? Worth the risk.

‘
Have you remembered to cock the pistol, Ashendon?' he asked in a peremptory tone, and strode several paces forward as his assailant's eyes went involuntarily to the gun in his hand.

Then, realising he had been tricked, he looked up, backed a step, and squeezed on the trigger. But Rupert was already in the air, launching low, and as the explosion shattered the quiet, Ashendon went down under the impact of his cousin's full weight.

Grappling, the two men rolled, Rupert's hand knocking the pistol from Ashendon's fingers. He heard in the background a crashing through the undergrowth, and in the periphery of his vision caught sight of several men bursting into the clearing.

Within minutes, Rupert was free of his cousin's violently struggling body, seeing only a collection of muscled arms reaching in and wrenching the boy away. Pushing to his feet, Rupert watched the men who had Ashendon in charge hoist him to his feet, and recognition hit as he took in the features of the newcomers. Several of his household staff had inexplicably arrived to his rescue.

‘
Good God, where did you all spring from?'

One of the young men came forward, touching his forelock. Wasn't he one of the stable lads?

‘
Jem, isn't it?'

‘
Aye, sir. Her ladyship give us the office, master. Seems as she judged rightly, saying as how this here Lord Ashendon wished you harm.'

‘
Lady Wolverley sent you?'

Jem nodded. ‘Devil of a dust she kicked up, an' all.'

‘
Where is she?'

‘
Gone by the Grange, sir,' offered another of the men, jerking his thumb at Ashendon, ‘for to fetch this un's pa.'

Rupert glanced round at the young man, who had ceased struggling, but stood between his captors, a scowl marring his handsome face.

‘
Let him go,' Rupert said. ‘The pistol is harmless now.'

The two addressed released their captive, albeit with evident reluctance, but stayed close, as if they were making ready to grab him if he should try to make a run for it.

‘
I could wish Clare had not alerted your father, Ashendon,' Rupert sighed, ‘but perhaps it is time to be done with all this. We will go to the Grange.'

‘
Damn you!' Ashendon spat. ‘I suppose you will have me arrested.'

‘
And create a resounding scandal? No, I thank you. But we will settle this matter somehow. I cannot have Clare endangered any longer.'

‘
Clare! She was not my target.'

‘
No, but you have used her unmercifully, and that I will not permit.'

He turned, signing to the men to follow with their prisoner, but just as he began to cross the clearing, he heard Clare calling, her voice terrorstricken.

‘
Rupert! Rupert! Where are you?
Rupert
.'

‘
She must have heard the shot,' he muttered, and moving swiftly in that direction, shouted, ‘Clare! I am here. I am all right.'

Then he saw her darting through the trees, one of his footmen close behind her. Thank God she had not come alone. He saw her catch sight of him and she shrieked again.

‘
Rupert!
'

Like a small thunderbolt, she came at him, hurling herself into his waiting embrace. He lifted her quite off her feet, hugging her closely to his chest, hearing her sobbing breath in his ear, feeling her arms clutching about his neck.

That sensation of
dejà vu
attacked him again, stronger this time. But so fleetingly that he barely registered it as her choked words reached him.

‘
I th-thought he had k-killed you! Oh, Rupert, Rupert, I th-thought they were too l-late!'

‘
No, my enterprising little darling. Your rescue party came after the event, but in time to overpower him for me.'

‘
You saved yourself,' Clare exclaimed, smiling up at him as he lowered her to the ground and loosened his hold a trifle. ‘Thank heaven! I have never been so frightened in my life.'

‘
You guessed it all,' Rupert said, his eyes roving her features.

‘
I should have done so earlier had I not been so tired. So stupid of me. On his own, Christian would never have thought to use me as bait so cleverly. Even down to that well-timed kiss. Why I did not see it then, I don't know.'

‘
There had been too much strain,' he told her gently. ‘We were both blind.'

Reminded by that word, Clare said anxiously, ‘I dare say you won't like it, Rupert, but I have brought Lord St Merryn.'

‘
I know,' Rupert said mildly. ‘One of the men told me. Where is he?'

‘
He is coming with his valet. When I heard the shot, I'm afraid I left him behind. But Ferris was with me, so you need not scold.'

‘
Scold? At a time like this?'

He hugged her again, and then let her go, turning to thank the footman who was standing a little way off. But the man spoke first.

‘
Begging your pardon, sir, but I think that's his lordship coming now.'

‘
Rupert? That you?' sounded from the direction Clare had come, and presently the earl, one hand on his valet's shoulder, the other held out against obstacles, made it into the clearing.

Rupert, one arm still about Clare, gripped his cousin's hand. ‘Will, you should not have come.'

‘
Don't be a nodcock, old fellow,' returned his cousin. ‘Told the girl—quite right to come to me.'

‘
He told Kitty—whom I had to brush aside, I'm afraid—that it was not a fool's errand,' Clare put in, ‘if I had come to him for you, Rupert. I knew he would not fail you.'

Rupert held her close at his side, but his grip was still firm on the other man's hand. Low-toned, he protested, ‘But here, Will. It's not fit for you.'

‘
The Dell, y'mean? Had to come sooner or later. And it's about time.' He reached, searching for Rupert's shoulder, and kneaded it. ‘Been keeping things from me, Rupert. I ain't a fool, y'know.'

‘
No, I know you are not, Will. Nevertheless—'

‘
Enough!' barked his lordship. ‘Dashed havey-cavey goings-on, and it's time to end 'em. I may be blind, but I've other senses enough. Knew Ash was involved. Damn young fool.'

‘
I hate this, Will,' Rupert sighed, releasing his hand at last. ‘I'd have done anything to spare you.'

‘
Oh yes, brazen it through,' came bitterly from Ashendon's lips. ‘My father is besotted enough to believe anything.'

‘
Your father, my boy,' roared St Merryn, turning in the direction of his voice, ‘is besotted enough
not
to believe his son a cold-blooded murderer.'

A shocked hush blanketed the Dell. Clare drew closer to Rupert, and his arm tightened about her. She saw some of the men shift uneasily, eyeing Ashendon, and she wondered if they meant to seize him. But Ashendon, his face contorted with some inner torment, strode from between them to confront his sire, his voice vibrant and low.

‘
And if I had been—had I succeeded—would I be any worse than this—' with a pointing finger shooting out at Rupert ‘—monster of duplicity?'

Beside her, Clare felt Rupert stiffen, but the earl cut in swiftly.

‘
What's that? You accuse Rupert again? Thunder and turf, boy, but you're obstinate!'

‘
And you are
blind
, sir. Ask yourself why.'

‘
Good God, d'you think I ain't done so every day since?'

Rupert released Clare, and she saw him quietly sign to the men to withdraw a little. Then he went to lay a hand on his cousin's shoulder.

‘
Let us have done with this, Will, once and for all.'

‘
Aye, I'm game,' snapped St Merryn. ‘Try if you can convince this misguided whelp of mine.'

‘
Misguided?' echoed Ashendon.

Clare looked from one to the other. She had brought on this confrontation, but something about it troubled her. Something about this place troubled her. She backed away a little as Rupert began to speak.

‘
For years, Ashendon—'

‘
Nine years. I've counted every one of them.'

‘—
you have chosen to have me figure as your father's enemy,' continued Rupert, ignoring the interjection.

‘
Young nincompoop,' muttered his lordship.

‘
My motive,' Rupert went on, ‘was apparently to gain the earldom, for what purpose I cannot, for the life of me, imagine.'

‘
Pah! Nor I,' agreed the earl. ‘Perfectly good title of your own.'

‘
A lesser title,' put in Ashendon acidly.

‘
And the old Wolverley house,' snapped his father, ‘an estate, and enough of the ready for any man. What more could he want?'

‘
And what the devil would I have done about you, Ashendon?' demanded Rupert. ‘Am I supposed to have planned your death, too?'

‘
Oh, you'd have found a way. I was just a boy. You could have done anything with me.'

‘
Except make you believe in the accident.'

‘
How should I believe in it? A stupider story you could hardly have imagined.'

Clare glanced at him, and then at the earl, who was frowning now.

‘
Damned memory,' he muttered, and his sightless gaze jerked about. ‘This place!'

This place?
Was it here then? Clare glanced around the Dell, an odd sensation of prickling apprehension creeping into her veins.

‘
Don't, Will,' Rupert was saying, laying a hand on his arm. ‘Don't try to—'

‘
Leave him be!' Ashendon cried, dashing at Rupert's hand.

There was a concerted movement among the watching men at the edge of the clearing, and Clare gasped her fear, but Rupert lifted a hand and shook his head at the servants, who subsided.

‘
You've always stopped him from coming here,' Ashendon was saying. ‘You're afraid that he will remember.'

It had happened here. Clare's gaze moved round, following the jerking motions of St Merryn's head, the odd sensation making her head buzz. The earl's chin lifted, and Clare looked up. The elms! That great batch of high trees. She stared at them, her head buzzing dizzily, only partly aware of the continuing argument close by.

‘
If only I could remember,' St Merryn was saying fretfully, ‘but it's gone, it's gone.'

‘
Ashendon, have you no heart?'

‘
It won't work, cousin, not this time.' Ashendon turned to his father, brusque and harsh. ‘Sir, you
can
remember. Think. It was here—in the Dell.'

It was here...where the tall trees grew high, towering above her. Through a haze in her mind, Clare stared at them. She closed her eyes tightly, as if by this she could clear her head of the image.

‘
Where were you when you fell? Think!'

Not here... Clare did not hear St Merryn's reply, for the buzzing dizziness had given place to a sensation of floating nothingness. She felt distinctly odd—as if she had fallen through a crack in time. It was as if she was outside herself, watching herself running...

‘
What do you want from him, Ashendon? He does not know how he fell.'

...running across the clearing, trying to catch the bluebells. Then—oh, sweet heaven!—flying through the air. A rag doll, tumbling...

‘
He fell! You say he fell. You could as easily have pushed him.'

‘
No!'

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