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Authors: Sandra Heath

Tags: #Regency Romance Time Travel

Borrowed Vows (23 page)

BOOK: Borrowed Vows
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She lay there with tears streaming down her cheeks. If he’d beaten her, or taken his brutal pleasure to the full, she could have borne it more, but instead he’d humiliated her. Nothing could have shown his loathing more than the way he stepped over her, and nothing could have pierced her heart more than the way he hadn’t even glanced back.

She wanted to curl up and hide from the world, but then cold facts swept soberingly over her. She couldn’t hide, for this was her existence now, and if she gave in to misery she might never find the strength to fight for what she wanted. Slowly she sat up, and shook her gown until it hung properly. She wouldn’t give in because of this, she
wouldn’t
!

Renewed determination flooded through her veins, and she got to her feet. Somehow she’d turn Dane’s hatred back into love, and she’d begin by wearing his ring again. Gathering her skirts, she hurried up the staircase.

The silence of the castle seemed to intensify as she opened the drawing room door. Everything was ghostly in the moonlight, and a window had been left slightly open, so the night breeze stirred the curtains and the ivy on the wall as she went to the cabinet. The rustling of the ivy made her shiver, just as it had the day she’d met Jeremiah Pendle in this room. She glanced uneasily toward the open window. What was it about that sound that got to her? It had never bothered her before—in fact, she quite liked the rustle of leaves. She didn’t like it now, though.

She put the matter from her mind then, to get the ring. It was on table by the cabinet like Rosalind said, and felt cold as Kathryn slipped it onto her finger. She held her hand out in the moonlight, gazing at the golden band. She’d never take it off again, never. Sir Dane Marchwood was her husband, and she wouldn’t rest until she was welcome in his arms once more. However much he tried to banish her now, she wouldn’t go voluntarily. If he wanted her to go, he’d have to put her out by force!

She turned to leave, but suddenly heard a stealthy sound coming from outside the window. The ivy was shaking from more than just the night breeze—someone was climbing up it! Now she understood why she’d shivered each time she heard those leaves, it was a premonition of some kind!

Smothering a gasp, she drew into one of the deep window embrasures on the opposite side of the room, and her heart quickened as she peeped around the curtain in time to see a furtive figure clamber over the sill and drop softly into the room.

It was a man, his features concealed by his hat and upturned collar as he went to the cabinet. He was slight and wiry, and his fingers were nimble as he opened the drawers to sift hastily through what lay inside. At last he found what he was searching for—the leather case containing Dane’s dueling pistols.

Kathryn’s eyes widened as he placed it on a table. Suddenly he glanced around, as if sensing he wasn’t alone, but although she immediately pulled back out of sight, she was too late. He saw the slight movement and was upon her in a moment. Her lips parted to scream, but his hand clamped over her mouth. The moonlight shone on his other hand as he raised it to strike her. The blow jerked her head back against the embrasure, and the moonlight began to retreat into an inky impenetrable darkness as she sank to the floor. In the split second before she lost consciousness, she saw a scar on the back of the hand that struck her, but that was all.

He froze as he recognized her face in the pale light. Lady Marchwood! For a moment he thought he’d killed her. A numbing fear immobilized him, and he could only stare at her slumped figure, but then he regained his wits. Crouching, he felt for her pulse, and then exhaled with relief. He straightened again and drew the curtains slightly to hide her from view, then he swiftly returned to the table to open the leather case and take out one of the pistols. It was the one Dane always used, its damaged stock distinctive in the moonlight. Taking a small tool from his pocket, he worked quickly. Within a minute the gun’s magazine was cleverly blocked with a bent nail, although this would not be apparent unless the weapon was examined very closely indeed. His task complete, he replaced the pistol in the case and then took the case back to the cabinet, leaving it exactly as he’d found it. A moment later he climbed silently out of the window again.

Kathryn remained unconscious. She was still there several hours later when the moonlight was replaced by the first faint fingers of Lammas Day dawn on the eastern sky, and the hour of the duel approached.

Dane came to the drawing room for the pistols. He wore a charcoal coat and white breeches, and the gilt spurs on his boots jingled as he moved. There was a sapphire pin on his starched neckcloth, and a bunch of seals swung from his fob. He might have been about to sally forth along Bond Street instead of going to face an opponent in a secluded clearing, but the shadow in his eyes and pallor of his face was evidence not only of a sleepless night, but of the torture of knowing his beloved second wife was as adulterous as the first.

He placed the leather pistol case on the table and opened it to examine the weapons, picking up the one the intruder had interfered with so expertly. He detected nothing wrong as he balanced it in his hand for a moment before replacing it with its fellow. Then he picked up the case and went down to the great hall to await George Eden.

Behind the curtain, Kathryn remained unconscious. And precious time was now trickling away like sand through an hourglass.

 

Chapter Twenty-five

 

It was time to leave for the oak grove, but George Eden still hadn’t arrived. Dane’s spurs rang softly as he paced restlessly up and down in the great hall, and the white of his shirt was startling in the dawn gloom. George had willingly agreed to be his second, so where was he? He paused by the half-repaired fireplace, impatiently grinding some of the stone dust beneath his boot. God, how he loathed this waiting; it wound his nerves up to an almost unendurable pitch.

The echo, which only seemed to come to life during the quiet hours of darkness and dawn, toyed idly with the sound of his pacing. Then a horse trotted into the courtyard, and he breathed out with relief. George, at last. But silence ensued. He waited a minute or so, but there was nothing. Puzzled, he went out to see. The dawn was cold and misty, and he saw a riderless horse wandering aimlessly by the main gatehouse. He hurried across to it, and the mist swirled and parted in the draft of his passing.

For a moment he feared the horse was George’s, but almost immediately discounted the notion. George only bought blood animals, this was a modest hack, and the saddle was too old and well worn to be George’s. Nothing but the very best would do for an Eden.

He led the animal to the stables, where lantern-light in one of the stalls told him where he’d find the duty groom. But when he reached the door, he saw the man lying fast asleep on the hay. Leaving the horse in the yard, he went to push the groom with his boot. “Is this how you carry out your duties?” he demanded.

The man leapt to his feet. “Sir Dane!” he gasped.

“Well, certainly not his ghost. Not just yet, anyway.”

“Sir.” The groom lowered his eyes uncomfortably. The whole castle knew about the duel, and feared the outcome, for whatever the rest of the world thought of Sir Dane Marchwood, he was held in high regard by those who worked for him, because they knew he was a fair and reasonable master. He was strict and expected high standards, but he was never harsh or arbitrary. If he died today at Thomas Denham’s hands, he would be greatly mourned.

Dane eyed him now. “I trust it isn’t your habit to doze on duty?”

“No, sir! It won’t happen again, sir!”

“See that it doesn’t.”

“Sir.”

“Very well. Now, do you know whose mount this is?” Dane led the stray horse forward into the light of the lantern.

The groom looked blankly at it. “No, Sir Dane, I’ve never seen it before. How did you come by it?”

“It arrived in the courtyard without any sign of a rider. Someone must have taken a fall. See that a search is made of the estate as soon as it’s light enough.”

“Yes, Sir Dane.”

Dane thrust the reins into the groom’s hand. “Attend to its welfare in the meantime, and take care not to neglect your duties again.”

“Yes, sir.”

Dane returned to the great hall, and five minutes later he again heard hooves in the courtyard, this time accompanied by the rattle of wheels. He turned relievedly, thinking that this time it had to be George, in his curricle perhaps, but once more he was doomed to disappointment, for it wasn’t the doctor who entered the hall, but Alice, whose walking stick abruptly ceased tapping as she saw him, although the echo, which faded with each passing minute now, repeated the sound, as if another Alice Longney were walking invisibly across the hall.

Dane’s eyes darkened, and he folded his arms. “Good morning, Mistress Longney.”

“Good morning, Sir Dane.”

“How bright and early you are, to be sure. Have you come to put a hex on me? So that I conveniently expire and leave the way clear for Denham?”

“No one wishes you dead, Sir Dane.”

He glanced cynically away. “Except me, perhaps,” he murmured.

“You should not think like that, sir.”

“There are many things we should not do, mistress.” He looked at her again. “Your arrival must mean that my wife has yet to leave. I trust you’ve come to take her?”

Alice’s eyes lightened with relief. “So she’s here?”

“Where else? And still claiming to love me!” He gave a mirthless laugh. “Dear God, how amazing she is. I found her actually in Denham’s arms, and still she looks at me with those big green eyes and swears I am the only one she loves.”

Alice breathed out gladly. It had worked, and Kathryn was the one who’d returned, for only she would vow undying love for Dane. Until this moment there hadn’t been any confirmation, and after a lifetime of the power to see so much, the old nurse wasn’t accustomed to being as ordinary a mortal as everyone else.

He held her eyes. “I want her out of here without further delay, is that clear?”

“I don’t believe you wish her to go, Sir Dane,” she said quietly.

“On the contrary, mistress, I wish her as far away from me as possible.”

“But she really does love you, sir.”

“Do I look like a fool?” he replied icily.

“No, sir.”

“Then pray don’t treat me like one. She’s made her choice, and that’s the end of it. She will cease to be Lady Marchwood as soon as the law can oblige me—always assuming, of course, that I live long enough to commence the necessary proceedings.

“You’re wrong to condemn her, sir.”

“Well, you would say that, wouldn’t you?” he replied acidly. “You don’t pull the wool over my eyes, Mistress Longney, for I know you’d go to any lengths for Rosalind. Lying to me has never bothered you in the least. I have no doubt that from the outset you’ve connived at her affair with Denham.”

Alice prudently decided to ignore the last statement. “I’m not lying to you, sir. My lady loves you with all her heart, as I believe you love her.”

“Don’t presume to comment on my feelings, mistress,” he snapped.

She drew back a little. “Forgive me, sir.”

He turned away, leaning a hand on part of the fireplace mantel. “May I inquire if you saw anything of Dr. Eden on your way here?”

“Yes, sir, I did. I bring a message from him.”

Dane faced her quickly. “Well?”

“He rode past my little pony cart just as I reached Marchwood, and I saw him stopped by a man who ran across a field calling to him. It seems the man’s wife had just that moment been brought to bed of twins, and when the midwife saw the doctor riding to the village, she said it would be best if mother and babes were properly examined. I gather it had been a difficult accouchement. The doctor asked me to tell you he would not be long, and would meet you at the grove.”

Dane nodded. “Very well.”

At that moment there was an anxious cry from the top of the staircase. It was Josie, and the clamor of her cries stirred the almost slumbering echo into started wakefulness again. “Sir Dane! Sir Dane! It’s her ladyship—”

“What’s wrong?” he demanded quickly.

“Sir, I... I think she’s dead!” Josie hid her face in her hands and dissolved into frightened tears.

Alice’s face drained of color. “Oh, Kathryn ...” she whispered.

Dane’s spurs rang as he dashed to the staircase. “Where is she?” he cried as he reached the sobbing maid.

“In...in the drawing room, sir. I noticed something yellow peeping beneath the curtain, and when I looked, I... I saw it was my lady’s gown. There’s blood on her head, and ...”

Dane didn’t wait to hear more, but ran toward the drawing room. Behind him, Alice struggled up the stairs as quickly as she could, and Josie waited to help her, then they followed to the drawing room.

Dane knelt by Kathryn. “Oh, dear God...” he whispered, putting a hand gently to the trickle of blood oozing through the hair at the back of her head. Then he saw the ugly bruise left by the heavy blow that had sent her reeling so forcibly against the wall. He took her wrist. Please let there be a pulse...

He closed his eyes with relief as he felt the telltale flutter of life, then he lifted her in his arms just as Alice and Josie reached the door. He told the maid to hurry ahead to her mistress’s apartment to ready the bed, then he looked at Alice, whose already pale face became quite ashen when she saw Kathryn’s limp figure.

“Your mistress is still alive,” he said.

Relief surged visibly through her. “Oh, sir, I...”

“Do you know the man who called Dr. Eden away?” he interrupted.

“No, Sir Dane. Let me see her.” Alice went closer and looked swiftly at Kathryn’s injuries, then she smiled a little. “No doctor is needed, for I can do all that is necessary. She isn’t seriously hurt, sir, and with a little attention will soon be all right again. If you would but carry her to her bed, I can attend her.”

“How can you be certain of that?”

“You may trust me where my lady is concerned, Sir Dane. If I say I can attend her, then I can.”

He felt oddly reassured. Alice knew what she was doing when it came to such things as this. “Then see you do it well,” he warned, before carrying Kathryn to her apartment.

BOOK: Borrowed Vows
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