Legendary Lover (27 page)

236

friend
o'mine
who comes from that line
o'work
, if n you know what 1 mean."

"A large fellow, sandy hair."

"Might be,
sair
.
I wouldn't want to get on the wrong side o' my particular friend and say yes, fur sure."

"Did Mr. Mitchell tell you why he wanted Miss
Duras
finished off, as you say?"

"I don't ask
no
questions. Best that way."

Jack was relieved that Venus was about to sail and distance herself from Trevor's dangerous schemes. "You should weigh anchor immediately," he suggested to her. "I'll take care of this man."

"We're on schedule," Venus replied. "I've sent someone to bring Mr. Wells his fee and once that's settled, the captain is only waiting my orders."

"I'll pay him. Trevor's my problem, not yours." Astonished at Venus's composure, Jack was less serene, finding himself hard-pressed not to beat the man into a pulp. Or better yet, his cousin.

"Why don't I have some of the crew detain Mr. Wells until you're ready to leave," Venus proposed.

"I will. Come, Wells," the marquis curtly said. "You can wait elsewhere for your money."

C/nce the scoundrel was under guard on
deck, Jack
returned,
his feelings still in turmoil. "Now tell me what the hell happened in here?" he said, moving toward Venus. "How did he get in?"

"Your guess is as good as mine on how he managed to get on board. As for what happened, I managed to reach my pistol, and once we both had weapons, my assailant was ready to deal. Men like Mr. Wells come rather

*37

cheap
, as you no doubt know.
Although I don't understand why I was the target, and not you.
Wouldn't it be more profitable for your cousin if you were dead?"

"He probably knows I'd come back from hell and kill him. Which I intend to do the moment I return to London." Drawing her into his arms, he quietly said, "Forgive me for involving you in this. Trevor will pay, I promise." A rueful half-smile flickered across his-mouth. "This is a
helluva
way to end our holiday."

"Exciting to the last."
Venus's voice was teasing.

"You're taking this much too calmly. The man was serious."

"As children, we were taught never to show fear, and considering some of the outlands of the world in which we lived, it was a good maxim. I think Wells was more frightened than I, once I had my weapon in hand. I'm a very good shot, by the way."

"You constantly amaze me. What can't you do?"

"I embroider poorly and can't paint watercolor flowers at all. My governesses were quite distraught."

"But you can hold killers at bay and make me miss you before you're even gone. What am I going to do once you leave?"

"Forget my name in a week?"

"Not likely."

"Come and see me for the races, and then we won't have to say more than au
revoir
. I dislike good-byes."

He sighed. "I'd better not linger, anyway. The sooner you leave, the sooner you're safe.
Au
revoir
, darling."
He bent to kiss her, the touch of his lips delicate, already bittersweet with memory. "I'll think of you. And of
Castlereagh
and Epsom—"

"And the river house . . ."

33
»

A touch of mischief shone in his eyes. "Sure you won't stay?"

She shook her head, knowing she had to be resolute and sensible even as the weight of tears filled her eyes. Jack Fitz-James wasn't a man a woman would ever be able to hold.

His smile was gracious, touched with affection. "I know you have to go." He touched the tip of her nose with his finger. "Thank you, for . . . everything."

She nodded, unable to speak with the same equanimity.

He kissed her one last time, and with a touch of sadness in his eyes he turned to go.

The door shut without a sound.

She dropped into a chair, her legs suddenly weak, and she felt a deep sadness she'd never felt before. The noises of the longboat heaving away came to her as though through a great distance. Even the first shudder of movement barely registered on her consciousness.

He was gone.

How was she going to live without him?

Chapter
ij
        
e»e
             

Vjy'REVOR
  
MITCHELL
  
JERKED
  
OUT
  
OF
  
A
  
DEAD

sleep
, terror flooding his mind. Someone was racing up the stairs; considering the location of his rooms in Chelsea was secret, the intrusion signaled danger, especially at this hour of the night. Leaping out of bed, he snatched up the loaded pistol on the nightstand just as something crashed into the door so hard the hinges squealed. Sweat broke out on his brow, and he pointed his weapon at the door with trembling hands.

Jack's boot slammed into the solid oak again, and then again a moment later, the rhythm of his murderous intent settling into a steady, determined battering that gradually forced the latch and hinges from their moorings. Driven by rage and a need for vengeance, he meant to see that Trevor paid for his treachery. Swinging his foot back again, he slammed his spurred boot into the door once more, and this time the lock shattered in a shower of splintered wood.

Trevor's worst nightmare came through the smashed portal like a vision from hell, Jack's wrathful strength and power exploding into the room. Ignoring the pistol aimed at him, homicidal impulse burning in his brain, he surged forward, oblivious to Trevor's shouted threat, heedless of the click of the pistol trigger. He scarcely

240

noticed
the shot grazing his temple, shaking his head minutely as though flicking off a fly. A second later, he was on top of Trevor, chopping the pistol from his hand with such force the weapon left a gaping hole as it smashed into the wall. He lunged for Trevor's neck, shoving him into the wall with a rampaging fury. Trevor's shriek filled the room.

Jack's breathing was labored after his strenuous exertions at gaining access to the room, but he fought off Trevor's desperate resistance, forcing him hard against the wall, his hands reaching, searching for purchase around Trevor's neck until finally he twisted past the flailing arms and kicking feet and locked onto his prey. His fingers tightened around Trevor's throat, squeezed with fatal determination. "It's just you . . . and me now," he rasped, his strong hands closing off the air to Trevor's lungs, every muscle in his body taut as he maintained the slow, measured pressure. "How does it feel . . . you bastard . . . without . . . hired killers
.. .
to
protect you?"

Trevor's face was blue, his eyes bulging, as he struggled to breathe,
his
frantic efforts to push away Jack's hands leaving bloody scratches.

"You shouldn't have tried ... to kill her." Teeth
bared like a wolf on the attack, Jack stared into Trevor's
terror-filled eyes with a pitiless gaze. Leaning into the
dying man with all his strength, he sank his fingers deep
into Trevor's flesh. "She matters ... to me."
                                
^s

The inexorable pressure of Jack's hands took its deadly toll a second at a time, slowly strangling breath and life, deliberately destroying the man who'd tried to harm Venus. Until, at last, Trevor's struggles ceased and his body went limp.

241

Relaxing his grip, Jack watched the lifeless body crumple to the floor.

Don't fuck with me, he brutally thought, or with the woman 1 love. In the heat of his madness, he didn't notice the simple truth of his reflection, retribution still overwhelming his senses. And when his gaze came up from the dead man and swept the room, he didn't know for a moment where he was; the hideous wallpaper design jumped out at him, startling his visual receptors. It took a second for reason to reassert itself, for the room to register as reality.

He felt no remorse, and he wondered at his lack of humanity, at his capacity to kill a man in cold blood. But he shook his head, not wanting a conscience just yet, and at the sudden movement droplets of blood sprayed outward in a perfect arc. Following their trajectory, he watched them fall to the floor in a pattern of crimson splotches, and conscious of pain for the first time, he raised his hand and gingerly touched the torn flesh at his temple.

Tracing the blood seeping down his cheek, he swore.

An echoing moan answered.

Searching out the sound, he scrutinized the body of his cousin, the mottled purple of his face altered now to a lighter shade of blue. As he watched, a faint movement of Trevor's chest became visible.

Brief disappointment washed over him, but a niggling relief also insinuated itself into his brain. He hadn't killed a man in cold blood, after all.

Perhaps someday there would be satisfaction in that.

He immediately walked from the room. With Trevor alive, limitations had to be speedily imposed on his freedom. Quickly riding to Austin's home, Jack pounded on

242

the
door until he woke the servants. Short moments later, when Austin appeared at the top of the stairs tying his robe, the marquis said, "I need a man transported tonight."

"Tonight?"

Jack nodded and blood struck the marble floor.

"Good God, you're bleeding." Austin came down the stairs in a run, calling for the housekeeper.

"It's nothing serious, but thank you for your concern," Jack said, taking a cloth from a servant and holding it against his wound.

"In here." Austin gestured toward his office. "Bring coffee," he ordered a servant, "and see that the housekeeper brings some bandages and hot water. This way, Jack."

He listened while the marquis quickly related the pertinent events. "I need the police to go to the apartment before Trevor has a chance to recover. Although I don't think he'll be moving any time soon. Send the message now," he ordered. "The rest of the story will wait." And while Austin went to make the necessary arrangements to have Trevor detained, the housekeeper cleaned and bandaged Jack's wound.

"You
should
see a doctor," Austin suggested on his return.

"I will.
As soon as my cousin is in custody.
I
can
have him transported, can't I?"

"It shouldn't be a problem. He tried to kill you, from the looks of it."

"Actually, I was hoping I'd killed him. The bastard sent a second man to kill Venus."

"Is she hurt?" Austin's concern was evident.

Jack smiled faintly. "She managed to outmaneuver

*43

her
assailant, and then convince him to change allegiance."

Austin's brows rose in approval. "A resourceful woman,"

"Very." Jack glanced at the clock. "She should be in Paris by now, out of range of Trevor's malevolence. Call in any necessary favors, but I want my cousin gone immediately. He can keep his damned stipend, but on some distant shore where he won't do any more harm. Van
Diemen's
Land would suit."

"I'll see that someone drives you home, and
rest assured, Trevor will leave England
."

"I'm still not sure 1 shouldn't have killed him."

"I'm glad you didn't. There's scandal enough in your life now without that."

Jack's gaze sharpened.
"Meaning?"

"The Palmers.
I'll explain when you're feeling better."

Jack gestured away his concern. "Give me a brandy and then tell me the bad news. Once I leave here, I'm planning on sleeping for days."

Soon each
men
had a brandy in his hand, and Austin explained the most recent events. "I'm afraid Lord Palmer insists on going to court. Apparently, he believes his daughter and insists the child is yours."

"I never touche4 her."

"Unfortunately, she doesn't agree, and with your reputation there's a substantial element of doubt."

"Palmer won't consider a settlement?"

"He has money. He's interested in your title."

"So what's next?"

"I'm going to have my people try to interview some of the Palmer servants and see what we can discover—

244

in
terms of possible liaisons, other than the alleged one with you. I'll continue discussions with Palmer as well, point out to him the influence your name will have in court, the risks he has of losing, et cetera, et cetera."

"But it looks as though we're going to court on this one."

"It seems so. I wish I had better news."

"Never mind.
Knowing Venus is safe is good news enough. The Palmers will just be a minor disturbance for a time, but they can't really coerce me into marrying their daughter."

"I don't know what they expect. Symington is careful to give away nothing."

"Perhaps I should speak to Sarah myself."

"Please, don't. Have no contact with her at all— nothing that could later be construed as an assignation."

"You don't think I could intimidate her?"

"You told me of her attitude that night at the Sutton Inn. What do you think?"

Jack frowned,
then
winced at the shooting pain that resulted. "You're right. She's beyond intimidation. Send me a message once Trevor has sailed. I'm going home to sleep. My holiday, while glorious, was exhausting," he said with a faint smile.

"Will you be seeing Miss
Duras
again? Helen liked her, and I thought her stunning and intelligent. Not your usual combination."

"I told her I'd come to Paris for the races."

His tone was so equivocal, Austin's brows rose in query. "Will you?"

Jack shrugged.
"Probably not."

"Does she know that?"