The Player (Rockliffe Book 3) (38 page)

BOOK: The Player (Rockliffe Book 3)
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Caroline’s face lit up.
 
She said, ‘Three others?
 
Really?’

‘Yes. There are better
modistes
in London, of course – but this will do for the time being.
 
Now I need to speak to --’

The rest of what he had been going to say was lost
as Caroline dropped on the bed at his side, slid her arms round his neck and
pressed her cheek to his.
 

‘Thank you.’

He enclosed her in his good arm and breathed her
in.
 
He murmured, ‘If you’re going to do
this every time I buy you something, I suspect I may be doing it quite a lot.’

Laughing a little, she shook her head and kissed
his jaw.

‘It’s not the gift.
 
It’s the fact that you thought of it.’
 
I love
you, I love you, I love you.
 
How long
must I wait before I tell you?
 
She
drew away a little and said, ‘Now.
 
Who
is it you want to speak to?
 
Nicholas?’

‘Yes.’
 
He
pulled her back against him.
 
‘But
there’s no hurry.
 
And it seems a pity to
waste such an unexpected advantage.’
 

Lightly, he brushed her mouth with his … once,
twice; and then settled in to kiss her properly.
 
She tasted of honey and cinnamon and
Caroline.
 
He wanted her and could feel
her wanting him in return. The sweetness of it sent everything inside him
reeling.

How long before his damned shoulder stopped being
an impediment?
 
And how much longer after
that before he could admit that his feelings for her had become much more than
either liking or lust?
 
Something he had
thought he would never feel again and which made her frighteningly
indispensable to him.

I didn’t
expect this.
 
I want to trust it but,
after so long, I’m not sure I know how
.

Slowly, he let her go and trailed the back of his
curved fingers down her cheek.
 
He said
huskily, ‘An object-lesson about not starting things one can’t finish.
 
I should let you go, shouldn’t I?’

‘Probably.’
 
Her fingers were still tangled in his hair.
 
With reluctance, she withdrew them and said,
‘I’ll get Nicholas, then.’

‘Yes.’
 
He
sighed.
 
‘I suppose that would be best.’

*
 
*
 
*

Lord Nicholas regarded him doubtfully.

‘I can understand why you might want to do this …
but are you sure it’s a good idea?’

‘No.
 
I just
know that I have to do it.
 
As for understanding
– I doubt very much if you do.
 
But you
might if you knew the whole story.’

‘Does that mean you’re going to tell me?’

‘No.
 
It
just means that the parts you don’t know are worse than the parts you do.’
 
Adrian took a sip of the wine his lordship
had smuggled upstairs past Betsy.
 
‘Your
brother thinks I should just let him flee the country. He’s financially ruined
and Rock has no intention of keeping yesterday’s events to himself, thus giving
me poetic justice.
 
Also, if Sheringham
shows his face in England again, he could be tried for attempted murder. He’d
have done the same to me in a heart-beat, after all.’

‘But somehow all of that isn’t enough?’

‘It would be enough if all I wanted was an eye for
an eye.’
 
Adrian paused, then added
simply, ‘It isn’t.
 
And that’s one of the
reasons why I need to look him in the face and watch him recognise that he’s
the author of his own downfall … and why I want you there as my witness.’ He
smiled wryly. ‘Look on the bright side, Nick.
 
If you want to know all the grisly details of my past, tomorrow is your best
chance.’

*
 
*
 
*

Caroline wasn’t especially happy on the following
morning when Adrian announced that he and Nicholas had some undisclosed
business to attend to.
 
But when she also
found out that he intended to ride, she turned pink with annoyance.

‘No.
 
You
will
not
ride.
 
I won’t permit it.
 
You’ve got a hole in your shoulder, you
stupid man.
 
And if you think Betsy and I
have nothing better to do than to patch you up when it starts bleeding again,
you have another think coming.
 
You
shouldn’t be going out at all, in my opinion.
 
But if you
must
do so then
you’ll take the carriage.
 
And that, my
lord, is an end of it!’

‘Whew!’ grinned Nicholas, as she whirled off to
instruct Bertrand to ready the carriage ‘That’s certainly told you, hasn’t it?’

‘Shut up,’ muttered Adrian. And thought,
If she can get that fired up over me taking
a ride, God knows
what
she’d say if
she knew where I’m going
.

For the first ten minutes, a heavy silence filled
the carriage and, seeing the expression on the Earl’s face, Nicholas made no
attempt to break it.
 
But finally, still
staring out of the window, Adrian said, ‘I should probably have asked your
brother this question rather than you but somehow it got missed.
 
Will the Duchess object to having someone
with my unsavoury reputation as a house-guest?’

‘No.
 
Adeline’s not what you might expect.
 
And she’s got a whole set of dirty dishes in her own family, you know.
 
A mad cousin and a slimy, card-sharp of an
uncle, to name but two.
 
So I’d imagine
an alleged murderer won’t make her turn a hair.’
 
He paused and, with a short laugh, added, ‘The
only thing you need to be prepared for is that she and Rock are completely
besotted with each other.
 
At times,
being around them is like living in the pages of a damned romance.’

Lucky Rockliffe.
 
That sounds incredibly nice
.

Walmer Castle had originally been built as one of
Henry
Vlll’s
coastal defences. More recently, of
course – this being the official residence of the Lord Warden – the interior
had been substantially changed.
 
Shown
into a large parlour whose inner walls resembled a fashionable house but whose
outer ones were still those of a fortress, Adrian found it somewhat
disorientating.
 
Nicholas, however,
merely introduced him to Lord Holderness and withdrew from the ensuing
conversation.

Having listened to Sarre’s request, the Lord
Warden said dryly, ‘I am relieved to see you alive and kicking, sir.
 
I had the impression you were on your
death-bed.
 
However … I’ve no objection
to you interviewing Lord Sheringham, if that’s your wish.
 
But I
will
want to know what I’m supposed to do with him afterwards.
 
I don’t generally keep would-be murderers in
the house.
 
My wife doesn’t like it.’

‘That’s most understandable, my lord – and I’ll
discuss the matter with you before I leave.’

‘See that you do.’
 
The Warden pulled the bell for a servant.
 
‘He’s in a secure room downstairs and I’ll
put one of my own men outside the door. Not, from what I’ve seen of him, that
he’s likely to give you any trouble.
 
Cowardly fellow, in my opinion.
 
Just the sort to go round taking pot-shots at a man rather than look him
in the eye.’

As soon as the door opened, Lord Sheringham spun
round looking wild-eyed and dishevelled.
 
Then, when he saw who his visitors were, the blood drained from his
face.
 
He made an odd sound and backed
away to lean against the wall.

‘Did you think you’d killed me, Marcus?’ asked
Sarre sympathetically. ‘You really don’t have any luck at all, do you?’

Marcus swallowed.
 
‘You were hit.
 
I saw you go
down.’

‘Yes.’
 
A
slight gesture of one hand indicated his shoulder. ‘A small inconvenience.’

‘So I see.
 
Come to gloat, have you?’

No.
 
I’ve come to rub your nose in the mess you’ve
made of your own life and done your damnedest to make of mine. And to find out
why.

‘Not exactly.’
 
He sat down, crossed one leg over the other and removed an imaginary
speck from his sleeve. ‘Perhaps certain things about your current situation
have eluded you.
 
You set out to murder
me and can be proved to have done so.
 
Basically, your life is now in my hands.
 
All I have to do is walk back upstairs to the Lord Warden and press
charges.’

‘Go and do it, then.
 
You will anyway.’

‘It is what
you
would do, certainly.’

It occurred to Nicholas, watching from his place
by the door, that Sarre looked perfectly relaxed and even amicable … unless you
saw the ice in his eyes and caught the note of contempt underlying that smooth
voice.

‘You want me to beg?’ said Marcus.
 
‘I won’t.’

‘You would if you thought it would get you out of
here.
 
Principles have always been an
alien concept to you, haven’t they?’

‘Go to hell.’

‘And join you there? I’d sooner not.’

‘Always so clever, aren’t you?
 
If you hadn’t set out to ruin me --’

‘I can’t claim the credit for that.
 
You did it all on your own. You inherited a
substantial fortune and threw it away at the gaming table.
 
Your choice – no one else’s.’

‘And you did nothing? What about the Halifax chit?
You knew her dowry could save me – so you made sure I’d never have it.
 
You only married the bloody girl so I
couldn’t.’

‘Untrue – and you’d be wise to take care what you
say about my wife.’
 
The Earl uncrossed
his legs as if about to rise. ‘In fact, I’m beginning to wonder if we have
anything useful to say to one another.
 
Unless, of course, you wish to engage my attention by telling me how we
came to this.’

‘What?’
 
Marcus’s hands were sweating and he wiped them down his breeches. ‘How
we came to what?’

‘How we got from friendship to the point where you
want me dead.
 
There must have been a
moment when – for you, at least – something changed.’

‘Do you care?’

‘Not especially.
 
Things have gone too far for that now and much of it happened a long
time ago.
 
But I suppose you could tell
me why you seduced Evie … aside from the glaringly obvious fact that she let
you.’

Christ
,
thought Nicholas, shocked.
 
Is
that
where all this started?

‘I did it because I could,’ said Marcus
spitefully. ‘Because she made it so easy … and because I was sick of seeing the
way things just fell into your lap.’

‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’

‘No.
 
You wouldn’t
have. We’d been friends for years but as soon as we went to Oxford you barely
had time for me and the set you moved with only tolerated me for my money.
 
Then, of course, you had to go and get a
damned Honours degree!’

‘For which I worked extremely hard,’ remarked
Sarre, frowning a little. ‘It was your choice not to bother and to walk away
with a bare pass.
 
Is that
really
all it took to make you hate me?’

‘Does it sound like nothing to you? Trust me – it wasn’t.
 
The older we got, the more charmed your life
became.’

‘If you thought that, you can’t have been looking
very closely.
 
Don’t you remember my
parents at
all?

Marcus made a gesture of impatience.

‘Parents don’t matter.
 
They die.
 
Mine did and so would yours, eventually. Meanwhile, every time I set
foot anywhere there was always somebody or other asking me where
you
were. I got bloody tired of it.
First, the fellows at university and then all the prettiest girls in Town.
 
Everybody seemed to think you were something
special when I knew you weren’t. You stood to inherit an earldom but precious
little else – yet there wasn’t a female you ever met who didn’t want you to
cast your eyes in her direction.
 
And
then along came Evie Mortimer.
 
All that
beauty and a fortune as well. The biggest catch of the season.
 
And who did she choose?
 
Viscount bloody Eastry … with his empty
pockets and a house falling down about his ears.
 
And you were so sodding lovesick and pleased
with yourself, it made me want to vomit.’

There was a long silence when he stopped
speaking.
 

Although Nicholas could think of a few things he
wouldn’t have minded saying, he kept his mouth shut and waited.

Finally, the Earl said slowly and in a tone of
pure disgust, ‘Correct me if I’m wrong – but you seduced my affianced wife and
got her pregnant because you were
jealous?

 
And then, when Marcus said nothing, ‘Not
because you loved her and wanted her … but because you couldn’t bear seeing me
happy? Do you have the least idea how
pathetic
that makes you?’
 
He stood up and watched
the other man tense as if expecting a blow. ‘And then there’s the rest of
it.
 
You knew I didn’t push Evie off the
roof – that I’d never have hurt her, no matter what she did. You also knew – or
should have done – that she wouldn’t be able to tell me about the two of you
without turning it into a five-act drama.
 
That’s why she was on the roof and it’s how she came to fall.
 
Two seconds’ thought must have told you that.
But that didn’t stop you accusing me of murder, did it?
 
Not then … and not now, ten years on. If there
is any logic to this malicious obsession of yours, I can’t see it. Christ,
Marcus.
 
What the hell is the
matter
with you?’

BOOK: The Player (Rockliffe Book 3)
12.7Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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