Lovers Forever (45 page)

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Authors: Shirlee Busbee

BOOK: Lovers Forever
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“And perhaps it was Avery who suggested a way to expand the operation?” Nick asked with deceptive idleness, the identity of Roxbury's spy suddenly occurring to him.
Frampton looked amazed at the accuracy of his guess, and Athena smiled admiringly. “You always were quick,” she said. “And yes, you're right. Avery turned us into spies. He had connections with Whitehall and the Horse Guards, and soon enough he was using our operation as a way to send and receive information from the French. It did increase our revenue dramatically, but neither one of us liked being under Avery's thumb. He acted as if it were
his
operation and we were mere underlings carrying out his orders.”
“So you decided to kill him.”
Athena nodded. “But not until very recently. For a while everything was just fine, and of course, once we started passing information to the French, Avery was as deeply involved in the smuggling as we were—he could not expose us without exposing himself. But John and I wanted out and Avery didn't.” She glanced at Tess. “If he had married you, no doubt he would have been content and would have been willing for the partnership to end. But there was always the danger that eventually he'd run through even your fortune and at some time in the future would come whining back to us, either demanding we restart the smuggling business or for just plain blackmail. We couldn't let him live.”
“But what does all that have to do with us?” demanded Tess, her violet eyes stormy. “Why kill us? We've done nothing to you!”
“Well, you're wrong there,” Frampton said suddenly. “Your presence at the old gatekeeper's cottage was dashed inconvenient for us! We needed you out of there, although neither Athena nor I realized who you were at the time—we thought you were just some little fancy piece of Nick's.”
Nick's free hand clenched into a fist. Harshly he said, “And tried to kill her so that I would abandon the place.”
Ignoring Tess's gasp, Athena nodded. “As I said, you always were quick.”
Tess stared in horror from Athena to Frampton. “It was
you
who tried to strangle me?” she asked in a squeak. “And fought with Alexander?”
“You've had several near escapes lately, my dear,” Athena said coolly. “If that fool had done as I'd told him, you'd have died the night you met the smugglers and . . . Mr. Brown.” She sketched them a bow. “At your service—passing myself off as a man proved exceedingly useful, but I'm afraid that it is time for Mr. Brown to disappear forever. And to answer the question hovering on your lips, little brother, yes, I was the one who hit you in the cellars that night.” Her fingers tightened on the pistol. “As for your bride, it might have been better for her if Frampton had succeeded that afternoon.” Her face hardened, and there was a feverish glow in her eyes. “Now there is no escape—you stand between me and something far more valuable—Sherbourne Court. I want what should have been mine, if I'd been born a male—Sherbourne Court and the fortune that goes with it! With Nick dead, the title ends, but everything else will be
mine
—as it should have been in the first place!”
“Your brother is not an ungenerous man,” Tess said urgently. “He would, I'm sure, increase your allowance and funds to an amount you thought suitable . . . you don't have to kill us in order to gain what you want.” It was a desperate ploy, and Tess didn't really believe that Athena would even consider it, but she had to do something. Time was running out for them.
Athena gave a bitter laugh. “And how, dear sister-in-law, do you explain away Mandeville's death? Would that just be our little secret? And the smuggling? Will you and Nick just pretend it never happened?”
Tess had already considered those things, and she'd known that Athena would throw them in her face, but it was necessary to keep Athena talking—about anything! Once she stopped talking . . . Tess swallowed painfully. She didn't want to end up like Benedict and Theresa. Gamely trying another tack, she asked quietly, “How did you get Avery to go along with your plan to lure us here? He must have cooperated with you—otherwise the servants wouldn't have been sent away and you wouldn't have had a chance to open the brick wall.”
Athena's lips twisted. “He fell over himself in agreeing with my plan when I presented it to him, thought it was splendid. He was also very interested in finding out if Nick's idea about Benedict and Theresa was correct, and as for the other . . . he assumed that Nick would be the only one dying today—that in due course he could try his hand at marrying you again—which I encouraged him to think might be possible. I told him that I would distract you long enough for Nick to enter the dungeons alone. The plan was for Avery and Frampton to have hidden themselves earlier in one of the cells, and when Nick arrived they would catch him by surprise and tip him down the well. Once I estimated that they'd had enough time to kill Nick and hide themselves, then you and I would come into the dungeons and discover that there had been another terrible tragedy. When we left, heartsick and shattered, to spread the word, they would leave the dungeons after us and slip away—John for his home and Avery immediately for Yorkshire. No one would ever know that he'd had anything to do with Nick's demise.”
“And the diary?” Nick asked grimly. “What about it? Are you so cruel that you will keep the truth about Benedict from Pallas?”
Athena sighed. “I intend for Grandmother to read it . . . after I have carefully edited it. With your bodies down here, I cannot let her know what really happened to him, but I do want her to know that he loved her and that he wasn't planning on leaving with Theresa. From what you've said, he wrote often enough of it, and if I obliterate any reference to the dungeons, it should be safe enough for her to read.”
“If you can find it,” Nick drawled, playing desperately for time.
Athena smiled tiredly. “I'll find it. I suspect that you've either given it to Lovejoy or Laidlaw to keep for you. After everything I've done so far, one more murder won't make any difference.”
“Is Sherbourne really that important to you?” Tess demanded fiercely. “So important that you'll kill your own brother to possess it? What about Pallas? You claim to love her, but how can you do something that is going to cause her such grief? She loves Nick!”
Athena's mouth thinned. “There is nothing that you can say to change my mind!”
Despite her earlier feeling of calm, when Tess glanced at Nick her face was full of despair. Were they going to die like Benedict and Theresa after all? She didn't want to believe it, not for a moment, and yet, though she could almost feel Theresa's presence, feel her great-grandmother urging her to fight, not to give up hope, fear coiled in her belly.
His eyes grave, Nick met her stare, his free hand curling warmly around hers. Their gazes held for a moment, and then Nick looked swiftly at the torch in her other hand before meeting her eyes again. Tess's heart leaped. His eyes shifted again to the torch, and there was an imperceptible nod of his head in Frampton's direction.
The interplay between them had taken mere seconds, but Tess had understood instantly what he wanted of her. They were not totally defenseless, after all—
they
held the torches!
The only light in the dungeons
. Her heart banging painfully in her chest, she took a deep breath, and when Nick's hand suddenly tightened savagely on hers, she swiftly threw the torch at Frampton.
Nick's torch had gone flying toward Athena's head at the same instant, and it had hardly left his hand before he was ruthlessly shoving Tess to the floor out of the line of fire and reaching for his own pistol. There was a horrified yelp from Frampton as Tess's torch hit him full on the chest, and he staggered backward. Athena spared not a glance for him, lithely dodging Nick's torch, which tumbled down the well. Dashing into the nearest cell, she fired blindly in Nick's direction, their end of the dungeon now plunged into murky, indistinct shadows. Her leap to avoid the torch had thrown off her aim, and the sound of her bullet smashing into the rear wall where Nick had been standing a moment before echoed deafeningly in the stone chamber.
Crouched protectively above Tess, the pistol held firmly in his hand, Nick waited in the shadowy darkness, his eyes trying to pierce the gloom. He couldn't see Athena, but Frampton was clearly revealed, his clothes on fire. Tess's torch, having served its purpose, had rolled across the floor to lie burning fitfully off to the side of the chamber.
“For God's sake, Athena,” screamed Frampton, “help me! I'm on fire!” He was beating frenziedly at the front of his shirt and jacket, the scent of smoldering cloth mixing unpleasantly with the lingering odor of gunpowder. Frampton was beyond reason as he danced wildly about the dungeon, yelling and pleading for Athena to come to his aid. In a fit of terror he threw himself down on the floor and began to roll about frenetically, heedless of how near he came to the gaping hole of the well.
From her position on the floor, Tess watched with horrified eyes as Frampton writhed dangerously near the edge of the well. Then it happened—one second he was there and the next his body had given a frantic jerk and he was tumbling wildly down the well, his terrified cries seeming to linger for endless moments in the air.
It was very quiet after Frampton's dying scream ebbed away. Very dark, too, with only Tess's smoldering torch giving any light in the dense blackness of the dungeon. Nick listened intently for any sound from Athena, but only an eerie silence met his straining ears.
Tess slowly sat up. She could sense a presence, a comforting presence, definitely not Athena's. . . . Her breath caught. It was mad, she knew, but she was suddenly certain that she and Nick were the only ones alive in the dungeon....
Something cool caressed her cheek, and she gave a startled cry, but she wasn't really frightened—that touch, so fleeting and brief, had held such tenderness, such yearning affection, that tears inexplicably came to her eyes.
Nick was gripped by the same sensation that held Tess in thrall. He couldn't explain it, but instinctively he knew that Athena was no longer a danger and that something else, some unnamed force, moved in the shadows around them. Earlier, when Athena had disappeared into the cell, he could have sworn that a second later he'd heard the faintest clank of a sword, but he was certain that he'd been imagining things. Yet the sensation would not go away. Someone else was here with them, a presence that meant no harm. . . .
Cautiously he stood up, his pistol held ready, and helped Tess to her feet. They remained there for several moments, the dying torch casting wildly dancing shadows on the stone walls of the dungeon. Motioning for Tess to follow him, they slowly edged along the wall, carefully passing the well where Frampton had vanished.
Nick hesitated a moment, and then he stepped forward and picked up Tess's torch. The chamber was utterly empty. He and Tess exchanged baffled glances. If she was still here, why didn't Athena shoot? Had she escaped in the confusion?
Intuitively Tess knew that Athena hadn't left the dungeons. She was still down here with them. “She's in the cell ... with them,” she said softly, shocking herself. How had she known that?
Moving with great stealth, Nick approached the middle cell. Despite motioning for her to remain where she was, Tess was right behind him. Together they peered inside, the torchlight flowing gently over the grim, stark interior.
It was the pitiful pile of bones, scraps of satin and velvet still clinging to the limbs they had clothed in life, that first riveted their gaze. There was no doubt that they were looking at the remains of Benedict and Theresa. Staring at the fragile skeletons, Tess choked back a sob. It was obvious from the position of the bones that they had died in each other's arms, Theresa sitting upright on the stone bench against the back wall, Benedict kneeling at her side, his head resting in her lap. Near Benedict's feet, winking like stars in the flickering light, were the Sherbourne diamonds. . . .
Tess began to weep, and Nick's arms closed fiercely around her. “Don't mourn, sweetheart. They died a long time ago. Even Gregory is beyond our vengeance.” Words failed him, and they clung to each other.
They had been so intent upon their grief and sadness that it was only as they turned to go that the torchlight revealed the other occupant of that dank, depressing cell. In the corner, as far away from the sad little pile of bones as she could get, was Athena . . . or rather Athena's body. It took Nick but a moment to discover that she was quite, quite dead. There wasn't a mark on her, but her eyes were wide open, her face the picture of abject terror, and on the floor at her feet was the pistol, an old-fashioned sword lying across it. . . .
Epilogue
She is coming, my own, my sweet;
Were it ever so airy a tread,
My heart would hear her and beat,
Were it earth in an earthy bed;
My dust would hear her and beat,
Had I lain for a century dead;
Would start and tremble under her feet,
And blossom in purple and red.
 
Maud
, Part I, St. II
Alfred, Lord Tennyson

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