The Worldly Widow (54 page)

"Danger?
"
she whispered. "Why should I be in danger?
"
She choked back a sob when he stretched like some graceful jungle feline.

"Did it never occur to you, Annabelle, that whoever stole the diaries might have something to hide? I mean something criminal, of course.
"

"No,
"
she said.

"For the sake of argument, let us suppose that such a person exists. Wouldn
'
t you say that your uncanny knack of recall might prove something of an inconvenience? That it might conceivably lead some poor devil to the hangman
'
s noose?
"

The sinister meaning of his words struck her with blinding clarity. "But there
'
s nothing in the diaries to incriminate anyone,
"
she burst out. "At least, not of the sort to incite any rational person to do me bodily harm.
"

"Isn
'
t there?
"

"No!
"
She shook her head vehemently.

"No evasion this time,
"
he said, his manner as charming as Annabelle had ever seen it. "Does Dalmar know about Brussels? It
'
s the only explanation, you see, that makes sense.
"

She felt as if someone had
just walked over her grave. "Y
es,
"
she answered. "I didn
'
t even make an attempt to put down Monique Dupres
'
s rec
ollections of Vienna. Well…
Brussels was more interesting, you see. But truly, Gerry, there was
nothing there to incriminate anyone.
"

"It
'
s of no moment,
"
he said, but she knew from his expression that it was.

"I don
'
t see why it makes a difference,
"
she said reasonably.

He passed a hand over his eyes. "If only I had known that you had begun to reconstruct the diaries with Brussels! But how should I? Damn! I should have acted sooner.
"
He looked up and caught her wary expression. "Don
'
t take on so!
"
he said, smiling. "No real harm is done. And I
'
ll keep Dalmar away from you, I promise.
"

She did not know what prompted her to say, "I
'
ve quite given up the idea of publishing the diaries. It was an idiot notion to begin with.
"

"If only you had listened to me when I first voiced that thought,
"
he said, "none of this might have happened.
"
He looked at his watch.

He was waiting for someone or something, she thought, and remembered that he had sent his man for a hackney. Though she had no real facts to go on, only her instincts, she made up her mind then that nothing on God
'
s earth would constrain her to enter a closed carriage with Lord Temple. Dalmar was on her trail. Completely reversing her former opinion, and without any rational explanation to account for it, she clung to that thought.

Temple rose, and she rose with him. "That must be my man now. Will you excuse me? Drink the rest of your brandy, Annabelle,
"
he admonished, and drained his own glass. "It will soon be over.
"

He waited until she had lifted the glass to her lips. As soon as he turned his back on her, she took a step toward the window, uncaring and only half aware of the brandy which slopped on her gown. But her legs would not seem to hold her up. She staggered.

It will soon be over.
Was his choice of words deliberate or merely unfortunate?
Who cared?
Every nerve in her body, every hair on the back of her neck screamed at her to make a bolt for it.

Think,
she chided herself. She felt sure that for the moment at least she was safe. It did not seem as if he meant to harm her
in his own rooms. He thought her compliant, unsuspecting. But as soon as she was within hailing distance of any passersby, she meant to scream bloody murder. And it was all so unnecessary! She was sure she did not know anything!

She leaned on the back of a chair for support. There was something very far wrong with her, something more than just a reaction to the awful chain of events which had overtaken her.

He
'
s poisoned me,
she thought.
Dear Lord, he
'
s already murdered me. And I
'
ll never know the reason why!
That galling thought put new starch into her drooping backbone.

Swaying on her feet, she forced herself to pick up a brace of candles. Her time was up. There was very little to be done now. Her one thought was to give Dalmar some clue to what had happened to her. With an unsteady hand, she torched the drapes at the window, and turned aside as the flames licked slowly up their length. "Oh God,
"
she said. "Oh God, please
…"

Several things happened simultaneously. Doors slammed, people called out, and a pistol shot exploded outside the door. Annabelle dropped the candelabra in her fright.

The door burst open and Temple stumbled in.
This is it,
she thought, and raised her brandy glass threateningly, meaning to strike him. He evaded it easily, grabbed her from behind with one arm across her chest, and held a wicked-looking knife to her throat.

"Douse that fire!
"
The voice was so achingly and comfortingly familiar.

"Dalmar!
"
she breathed.

The Earl stood on the threshold, disheveled, his boots mired to the knee, his dear face showing unmistakable signs of fatigue. He was the most beautiful sight she had ever seen in her life.

"I knew you
'
d save me,
"
she told him. "Like St. George and the dragon.
"

She was dimly aware of the two men who entered behind him. They tore the smoldering drapes from their poles and flung them on the floor.

"If you
'
ve harmed a hair of her head
…
"
said Dalmar, edging closer to his quarry.

"Stand back!
"
warned Temple, and he pressed his blade into Annabelle
'
s exposed throat, drawing a drop of blood. "She
'
s merely drugged. But if you want her to remain in one piece, you
'
d best do as I say.
"

"I
'
m not drugged,
"
said Annabelle crossly.
"You
are,
Gerry. I switched glasses, you see, the first time you left the room. Any moment now and you
'
ll keel over.
"

With an explosive imprecation, Temple flung Annabelle from him. He sprang past Dalmar, cutting a wide swath with his knife in a bid for the open door and freedom.

The Earl
'
s arm shot out, and in a movement which was entirely familiar to Annabelle, he brought the Viscount
'
s arm down on his knee. The knife went flying. The Earl caught Temple a crashing blow to the jaw. Annabelle heard the crack of bone on bone and winced. Temple sprawled against a delicate side table, overturning it, and fell heavily to the floor.

Dalmar took a step toward the fallen man, fists clenched, murder in his eyes. "Get up,
"
he ground out. "Get up!
"

Annabelle put one hand to her aching head. "I lied,
"
she said. "I
am
drugged, and he
'
s as sober as a judge.
"

Comforting arms closed about her shoulders. "Are you all right?
"
asked John Falconer.

"John, get her out of here,
"
she heard Dalmar say in a voice that allowed no argument.

Shaking off Falconer
'
s hands as he tried to draw her away, she cried out, "There
'
s another one. He
'
s gone for a hackney.
"

"No, he hasn
'
t,
"
said Dalmar. "We
'
ve got him, thank God. Who do you think led us to you? Now get her out of here, John. I have some unfinished business with Lord Temple.
"

Nothing could have cleared Annabelle
'
s head more effectively than those uncompromisingly sinister words, and spoken in such a cold tone.

Her head came up, and she looked directly at the Earl, willing him to look her in the eyes. "No,
"
she said. "You can
'
t do it. Leave it to the law, David. You
'
re not God.
"

Dalmar did not spare her a glance. "For the last time, John, will you get her out of here?
"
he said.

If he had cursed or raised his voice, or railed at her, Annabelle could not have been more frightened.

Strong arms swung her off her feet. "No!
"
she protested, striking out wildly. "For the love of God, David, don
'
t do it!
"

"Ransome, go with them,
"
said Dalmar.

The other man seemed to hesitate. "Why not do as Annabelle says, and leave the law to take its course?
"
he suggested quietly.

Dalmar made no answer, and after a moment, Ransome followed after Falconer and Annabelle. He closed the door softly behind him. Lords Dalmar and Temple faced each other across the width of the room.

Neither man said anything until the sounds of Annabelle
'
s screams had faded.

Temple dragged himself onto a sofa. "I don
'
t think you have a case that would stand up in a court of law,
"
he said, rubbing first his jaw and then his arm.

Dalmar smiled faintly. "Temple, you have murdered four people. That
'
s four separate trials. You might spend years in the Fleet just waiting for each case to come up.
"

"And neither of us would want that to happen, would we, Dalmar?
"
Temple looked almost boyish when he grinned.

"It would be too distressing for Annabelle,
"
agreed the Earl.

"If it
'
s worth anything, I wouldn
'
t have let her suffer, you know.
"

There was an imperceptible tightening in Dalmar
'
s jaw. "You
'
re too kind,
"
he murmured.

Temple
'
s eyes dropped. A short pause ensued, each man lost in private reflection.

Finally, Temple asked, "What are you going to do with my man?
"

"Very little, I
'
m afraid. In exchange for his miserable life, you see, he led us to you. He
'
ll be on the first ship that leaves port for the West Indies.
"

"You recognized him, I take it?
"

"The man from Lewes? Oh yes, I recognized him, all right. I
'
m not like to forget the man whom I pulled off Annabelle as he was about to ravish her.
"

The Viscount started. "That was never part of the plan! Good God, he deserves to die! If I
'
d known, I would have killed
him myself.
"

Dalmar made no reply. From his coat pocket he pulled a dueling pistol and began to check the chamber and then the muzzle.

Not a flicker of emotion registered in the Viscount
'
s face as he watched the Earl
'
s careful, deliberate movements.

At length, he offered, "I see you
'
re not asking me any questions. There might have been extenuating circumstances, you know.
"

Dalmar flicked him a contemptuous glance. "I
'
m not interested in excuses,
"
he said.

"I wasn
'
t about to offer any,
"
said Temple, his control showing the first sign of a crack.