Jo Goodman (57 page)

"Please, Severn," she begged quietly. "Stop them."

"I can't stop them," he said. "I can only change the outcome."

Mercedes's fingers clutched the sleeve of his jacket. A breeze rustled the leaves overhead and an eerie moan whistled through the branches. It gave sound to Mercedes's own despair.

"Let go of me," Severn said. "I can shoot the captain from here."

Mercedes gave up her hold reluctantly as Ponty unfolded her fingers. Severn had to grip his pistol more tightly when he was jostled by Ponty Pine.

"Carefully, Mr. Epine," he said. "You could have this pistol ball as easily as Captain Thorne."

"My apologies," he said. He slipped the pistol case under his arm and used both hands to wrest Mercedes's fingers away from Severn. When he had her free he held her back. "You're distracting him," he whispered.

At first she thought he was talking about Severn. Then she followed his sharp blue glance and saw he meant Colin. Mercedes stilled immediately and she felt the pickpocket's hands slide away from hers. It was only as she lowered her arms that she realized her wrists were no longer tightly bound. The scarf remained but the knots had disappeared.

By not so much as a twitch did Mercedes reveal her newfound freedom.

"Count it off, Mr. Epine," Severn said. "Ten paces."

Colin and the earl stood back to back, pistols held at attention. Severn's own weapons guaranteed their cooperation.

"One!" Ponty Pine called. "Two!"

A shadow crossed the clearing as the sun ducked behind the clouds. The wooded site was mired in the blue-gray hues of twilight. Mercedes felt the hair at the back of her neck rise.

"Three! Four! Five!"

"Severn," she pleaded. "What would you have me do?"

"Six! Seven!"

Tears blurred Mercedes vision. In a fair match she believed Colin would kill her uncle, but she had no faith that this challenge was fairly met. "If I agree to marry you," she said. "Is it enough?"

"Eight! Nine!"

"Severn! I'll do whatever you want!"

"Ten!"

She had no voice as Colin and the earl turned to face each other. Simultaneously they straightened their arms. Their fingers tightened.

It was then, without signaling his intention, that Weybourne suddenly shifted his aim.

Mercedes was rocked back on her heels as the pistols fired. The earl's lead ball was wide of the mark, splintering a tree a yard from where Marcus Severn stood. The other ball found its target.

The acrid smell of gunpowder made Mercedes grimace. The faint blue cloud of smoke burned her eyes. This assault on her senses made her realize it was Severn's pistol that had been fired.

The Earl of Weybourne collapsed to his knees, his expression a mixture of both pain and fear. His fingers unfolded around the pistol, and it dropped to the ground. Looking down at himself, he saw the first small blossom of blood appear on his chest. His last glance was for Severn, and this time his eyes were accusing.

Mercedes's small cry of alarm propelled her forward. Her uncle lay face down on the ground, unmoving. She held out no hope for him, but she could not do nothing.

Ponty made a grab for Mercedes as she crossed in front of Severn. With a handful of her skirt locked in his fist, he managed to bring her up short. Her struggle was brief and ineffectual. He hauled her back against him. "He's beyond your help," he said quietly. Then, in a more urgent whisper he added, "Stay out of the way."

Severn could not hear the exchange. He was more amused by Mercedes's attempt to help than angered, and his low laughter covered Ponty's words. "Do you see, Captain?" he addressed Colin. "She's made another conquest in Mr. Epine. It would seem she's hardly worth fighting for. She barters her affections too easily. Something she learned from her uncle, I think. You observed he was not to be trusted, either. He meant to kill me."

Colin did not lower his pistol, and his eyes never wavered from Severn. "I'm not convinced it's Mercedes you really want."

Severn remained calm in the face of Colin's level aim. His shrug punctuated his lack of concern. He let his discharged pistol fall to the ground. "It wouldn't be very gallant to admit it," he said pleasantly. "Please don't force me to say so now."

Colin had never thought of Severn as particularly courageous. His casual posing now could only mean he still believed he held the upper hand. Colin wondered if the person he had misread was the pickpocket. Was Severn right to be expecting help from that quarter? "You set this up to kill Weybourne," he said flatly. The accusation raised Severn's small smile. "And you," he said. "You would do well to remember that I intend to kill you."

"No!" It was Mercedes who cried out. "You promised!"

"And you believed me after all?" Severn asked dryly. "That
is
unfortunate."

Mercedes tried to pull away, but she was held fast. Her throat constricted with unshed tears. Her vision blurred, and it seemed that Colin's arm wavered from its target.

Colin hadn't forgotten the pistol Severn had tucked into his trousers earlier. Did he really think he could draw it and fire before Colin discharged his own weapon? "I think you found some satisfaction in killing the earl," Colin said. "You couldn't bring yourself to let me do it."

"He was annoying," Severn said without inflection. "He left London to get away from me. Oh, I know he said he wanted to prove that he won the wager, but that was another way of getting back at me." He believed he had Colin's complete attention. Beside him he heard Mercedes stifle a sob. "You must have supposed by now that the wager was my idea," he told them. "Weybourne could be surprisingly easy to influence. He had already lost so much it was merely a matter of dangling the hope of recovery in front of him that made him leap and wriggle like a fish."

Colin nodded. "And if he won he would be on his way to being clear of his debt to you."

Severn actually laughed aloud at that. "That wasn't possible. Weybourne could never have relieved the debt he owed me. He could only have bought himself time with other creditors. He set up his murder to gain his freedom but he couldn't resist coming back when he found Mr. Epine. I have no illusions that he would have remained here long. He wouldn't have come to Rosefield if I hadn't insisted. His plan was to blackmail you, Captain. He thought you'd be willing to pay to keep your reputation and that you would keep on paying. I imagine he thought to set himself up in India or Bermuda and live on the overflow from your pockets."

"Which wouldn't have left much for you," Colin said.

Severn nodded. "I'm afraid not."

"So you killed him."

"Well, actually not," Severn said.
"You
killed him. Your pistol, remember?"

"What about this pistol?" Colin asked, his finger tightening on the trigger.

"Not loaded, I'm afraid," he said, feigning regret. "Weybourne knew it, too. He chose the only weapon that was primed. Unfortunately, there was no accounting for his aim. I really had no other choice but to act first." He held up his hands slowly, palms out as if surrendering. "Go on, Captain. Fire."

Colin pulled the trigger. His shot, had there been one, would have caught Severn on the shoulder, not the heart. Not waiting for Severn to draw, he threw down the useless pistol and charged across the clearing.

Severn reached for his weapon and came away with nothing. Startled, he looked around. For the first time his features registered something close to panic. He had a glimpse of his pistol in Pont Epine's hand before Colin's tackle dropped him to the ground. They skidded and bumped in the sparse grass and dirt. The horses grew skittish and pulled on their tethers. Mercedes found herself released just long enough to jump out of the way of the rolling bodies. Ponty's arm blocked her from throwing herself into the fray.

"Let them finish it," he said, lowering the pistol.

She looked at the weapon, stunned. "How did you—"

Her question was cut off as Severn's fist connected for the first real blow. Colin's head snapped back and he rolled over. Severn clambered to his feet but when he kicked out Colin brought him down again and landed a punch to his midsection. He was already winded, and Colin's hard delivery pushed the last breath of air from Severn's lungs. His gasp was silenced and color left his face.

Mercedes unwound the silk scarf from her wrists. It fluttered softly on the back of another gentle breeze, and the movement caught Severn's eye. His moment's inattention as he staggered sideways let Colin land a glancing blow on his jaw. Severn was thrown in the direction he was already going. He crashed into Mercedes and they both fell backward. His weight pinned her to the ground and she found herself captured again.

Captured, but not helpless. When Severn attempted to pin her wrists she threw the scarf up and lassoed his neck. She gripped the ends of the scarf so that as he held her down, she also held him. She almost smiled as she secured his head for the chopping block.

Intent on pulling Severn off Mercedes, Colin started forward just as he began to wrest free.

Ponty Pine raised his hand and stopped Colin's approach. "I've been here before," he said in almost bored accents. Bending over the struggling viscount, he caught Mercedes's eye and winked.

Then he brought down the butt of his pistol on Severn's head.

Epilogue

Mercedes nudged open the doors to the library. The tray of tea and cakes bobbled in her hands as she stepped into the room. Colin set his book aside and got to his feet to help her. He took the tray and carried it to the desk while Mercedes secured their privacy.

"You know," he said in confidential tones while he poured. "We employ enough staff at Weybourne Park now to have each piece of this service carried in separately. There's no need for you to do it at all."

"I only relieved Mrs. Hennepin in the hallway." Mercedes touched his arm as she accepted her cup. He had taken off his jacket and the sleeve of his crisp shirt was cool beneath her fingers. She liked to touch him at odd times. It was a reassurance and a pleasure. "I'd say that was hardly a burden."

Colin's dark eyes dropped to her delicate hand. He had a vision of it suddenly lying on the pillow next to his head. He glanced at the clock. Perhaps he could persuade her to retire early this evening. "The twins are abed?" he asked casually.

"I just came from their rooms," she said. She sipped her tea.

"Chloe?"

"Doing needlework." She smiled, searching his eyes and reading his mind. "Sylvia is writing a long letter to Mr. Jones, and Ponty is packing in anticipation of finally being able to leave Weybourne Park. Mr. Hennepin is—"

Placing a finger to her lips, Colin stopped her. "We're alone."

"We're never alone." Standing on tiptoe, she kissed him. Her lips were warm from the tea. "But perhaps we have a little time to ourselves..." Her voice trailed off.

"With no interruptions."

It was a heady thought they shared. Time alone had been a rare luxury these past four weeks. First, there had been the inevitable involvement of the authorities. Mr. Patterson was a frequent visitor to Weybourne Park as he tried to settle the earl's death. He came to accept that Wallace Leyden was responsible for the body in the burned-out cottage, but he was not so eager to judge him guilty for murders that had happened twenty years ago. There was no evidence, and he found it difficult to accept Mercedes's newly found memory as fact. He was equally reluctant to give credence to Severn's account of the earl's drunken confession.

It concerned neither Mercedes nor Colin that the matter was unresolved by Mr. Patterson. It was enough that they knew the truth. Mercedes had no desire to lay open the murder of her parents for public dissection. She was satisfied when the sheriff chose not to pursue it.

It was a different matter with Marcus Severn. Now lodged in the same cell Mercedes once occupied, he continued to claim the earl's murder was by Colin's hand. Although refuted by Mercedes and Colin, it initially raised the suspicion in Patterson's mind that Severn was the one being falsely accused.

Days of questioning followed. Risking her own reputation, Sylvia related seeing her father and Severn on the London waterfront. The twins confessed to overhearing that the hunting lodge was a favorite haunt for the earl and Severn. Chloe explained she was a witness to Severn announcing himself at Weybourne Park with the news that his father was gravely ill.