Authors: Lavinia Kent
Lily
would not put up with the uncertainty a moment longer. As soon as Arthur returned, she would demand an explanation.
“You haven’t eaten
. Would you like me to call for a tray?”
Gertrude
entered the chamber.
Lily shook her head
. With her stomach so tied up in knots, she could not eat. She let Gertrude unpin her hair and closed her eyes as the brush combed through her curls. She wished her tension could be smoothed away as easily.
“Is Sim
on asleep? I’d like to see him before I retire.”
“I don’t believe so
. I thought I heard him not long ago. He sounded most unsettled. Sally must be with him. He never fusses that long with Nanny.”
“Have him fetched
, then. It would do me a world of good to hold him in my arms and settle him myself.”
Gertrude put the brush down and moved to the hall
.
“I’ll be just a moment.”
“And I would take some tea. Just tea. I find my appetite lacking, but tea is never amiss.”
“Yes,
your grace.”
Lily lifted the brush herself and ran it id
ly through her hair. She tried to gird herself against the anticipated confrontation. She didn’t know how long Arthur would be gone, but she would sit up till dawn if she must. Not another night would pass without settling this uncertainty.
Bloody hell. The man had escaped again. It did not seem possible. Arthur had sent men out to scour and inquire in every dark corner, but to no avail. Wulf had rejoined him after Lily left the reception, pistol at the ready, to ensure St. Aubin’s compliance. But, there was no news of St. Aubin’s whereabouts. It might be hours before he could be found.
Arthur
strode up the steps to his house, his mind darting from plan to plan. Wulf followed. Stopping before the door, Arthur inhaled deeply. He might not yet have found St. Aubin, but he could no longer let Lily wonder about his neglectfulness. At the reception, he had seen the confusion in her expression, the way her eyes darted between him and Wulf, and having heard Wulf’s confession, he could well read Lily’s thoughts. It was time to put her mind at ease. Even if he could not yet ensure her safety, Arthur would lay before her what he could. He would introduce Wulf and lay bare his plans for St. Aubin. Then he would draw Lily aside and let her know that her affection – and trust – were not misplaced.
What was taking Gertrude so long to return? And why had Sally not brought Simon down? With a glance at her tumbled down hair, Lily rose and hurried to the nursery stair. If Simon was asleep, after all, she would just peek in at him, assure her mother’s heart of his wellbeing, and return to wait for Arthur. Just as she reached for the door handle, it was abruptly yanked open from the other side. In her surprise, she stumbled after it, colliding with a solid chest.
“Ah,
Sister, ruining my plans yet again.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Lily stepped back, tripping on her long skirts. St. Aubin stood outside the door, holding Simon tight in his grasp. He looked far different than she had ever seen him, his hair mussed and his eyes glowing with desperation.
“What?
” She could not stop the word from escaping.
“I’d planned another outcome for this evening
– one that would leave no doubt who is the rightful heir to Worthington.”
She backed further as he stepped towards her
. At first her lips worked without emitting any sound.
“I don’t understand.”
His fingers tightened around Simon. “Worthington should have been mine. I always intended for it to be mine, and babies are so fragile. So many things can happen to them.”
Lily longed to lunge forward, to rip the baby from his arms
. Only the knowledge of St. Aubin’s strength held her back. She must wait and find her moment to act.
“Please,” she whispered, hoping that her pleadings could buy time.
“I am afraid it’s too late for that now, even if my plans must change. Why’d you have to return so early? The reception should have gone on for hours, with you preening about your new status. It seemed so fitting that you’d return from a funeral reception to find the brat dead in his sleep. Maybe you’d even have been the first to find him, when you went up to check on him. You do check on him, don’t you? I wonder how many times each night? But you returned too early.”
Bile rose in Lily’s throat
. Her eyes locked on the slight movement of Simon beneath the blanket. She could not let that happen to her son.
St. Aubin stalked towards her again, and Lily found herself backing up towards the grand entry stair.
“If only Sally – you didn’t know about Sally, did you? – she’d been meeting my brother, your beloved husband, in the village tavern for years, whenever she’d a day off. If only she’d been willing to do her job and finish the lad off herself.” He shook Simon hard and the baby started to whimper. “She was more than willing to help when it was a matter of leaving a window unlatched or stealing a few letters – such moving, emotional letters your husband wrote! But ask her to do some real work, and the silly girl quailed. Kept saying she couldn’t hurt Geoffrey’s babe. I had to come over here and take the task upon myself. You won’t be too surprised if Sally’s not to be found in the morning. Ah, but I forgot, you will not be in a position to learn the outcome of such a search.”
St. Aubin approached menacingly as he talked, and Lily found herself backing toward the stairs
. Now she stood poised at the top. There was nowhere to flee; she could not back down the stair in her skirts, and she refused to turn and run, leaving St. Aubin to do his will with Simon. St. Aubin glanced from her toward the steep stair and then back. She remembered seeing that same expression on Worthington’s face as they stood at cliff’s edge, before he’d swung the whip.
A slow smile of distinct pleasure spread across St. Aubin’s face, from narrow cheek to narrow cheek
. “Ah, how fitting. It won’t be quite as gloriously simple as the poor babe dying in his sleep, but imagine Westlake’s horror when he returns to find his wife and her son dead at the bottom of the stair – and all the servants asleep! It is amazing what one maid, a bottle of laudanum, and a large pot of tea can accomplish – except, of course, the poor nursery maid, who must have fled in horror after seeing her mistress and charge slip and fall to the stair. Such a tragedy – and none to gainsay it.”
He stepped forward
.
“Would you like to hold your son one last time
? I am sure he’ll be comforted to meet his end in his loving mother’s arms.” He started to press the baby forward. Lily reached out with eager hands. Once she held her Simon she could try and flee.
The massive entry door creaked
. St. Aubin grabbed the baby back. Clasping Simon cruelly tight with one hand he reached into his coat’s deep pocket with the other. A large pistol gleamed.
Arthur swung through the door, ignoring the absence of footmen, intent only on finding his bride and putting all to rights between them. He paused inside the door, waiting as Wulf traded a quip with the coachman. Only then did he become aware of the figure above, St. Aubin, standing still at the top of the stairs, the glint of a muzzle shining in his hands.
Arthur stepped forward, feeling the weight of his own carriage pistol heavy in his pocket
. He’d taken it from the carriage while prowling after St. Aubin, and neglected to return it. Its presence was little comfort as his eyes grew accustomed to the interior light and he saw Lily pressed against the upper rail of the stair.
“Ah, but this family does have such atrocious timing!” St Aubin mocked
. “Every time I seem to arrive at a suitable
denouement
, some new player must trip upon stage!”
Arthur felt his heart stop as St. Aubin waved the gun back and forth between him and Lily
. He slipped his hand into his pocket and fingered the pistol.
“So sorry to interrupt.
” Arthur lifted his head and stared at St. Aubin coolly. Not even a fingertip quivered, betraying the terror he felt as St. Aubin’s gun again pointed towards his bride.
He had to act now.
In a smooth gesture he pulled his own pistol and took aim.
“No!” Lily’s cry rang out, halting his movement
. She stepped forward, placing herself in front of St. Aubin.
With a harsh chuckle St. Aubin shoved her aside
. “Now, now my dear, don’t get in the way. We want your beloved husband to see just what he hits.” He stepped forward to the middle of the stair, his gun now holding steady on Arthur.
But that was not what caused fear to lick at Arthur’s spine
. While one hand held the gun tight, in the other, Arthur could now see, St. Aubin held Simon, his small hands waving in displeasure as he began to squawk.
“Be careful where you aim,
your grace. You wouldn’t want to miss and do my job for me. And even if you did aim true, what do you think the results would be for the little lad, taking a rough tumble down the stairs? It might not be a pretty picture.”
“Put the child down.
” Arthur invested his voice with all the authority he could muster. “Let’s settle this like men.”
“And give up my advantage
? I prefer not.” St. Aubin progressed down the stair. Simon lurched in his arms and St. Aubin tightened his grip, the gun swaying. He was having trouble keeping a bead on Arthur while grasping the squirming child. He clutched Simon ever tighter, as he attempted to steady his aim. Arthur stepped back.
“What do you think will happen if you do succeed
? Do you think a dead duke is an easy thing to manage?”
“It really won’t be my problem
. I am as we speak across town abed with a dear friend – a dear friend who would like very much to be a countess.” He stepped forward. He was almost at the bottom of the stair.
Arthur withdrew further, mentally urging the man on
. The cold breeze from the partially open entry brushed his back. If only Wulf would step in and upset the balance!
St. Aubin stopped at the bottom stair
. He lips pursed and he turned his gun from Arthur and aimed direct at Simon.
“I see your game
. I am no fool. Drop your gun now or I shoot the babe here and now, and damn the consequences.”
Arthur looked up the stair past St. Aubin at Lily
. She stood at the top rail. Even in the low light he could see the white of her fingers as she clutched carved wood.
He
let his arm fall to his side, dropping his pistol to the floor.
Lily watched Arthur, felt her heart stop as his pistol clattered on the stone floor. Still he stood proud, his every muscle tensed, giving the appearance a large predator ready to take down his prey. St. Aubin waved the pistol again at Arthur, gesturing him forward. Lily saw Arthur grow tense, felt his desire to spring.
“Don’t.
” St. Aubin spoke the one word to Arthur, and his finger tightened against the trigger. He gestured again, moving Arthur to the bottom of the stair.
“Your ‘beloved angel’ – so you called her in your letters – needs to learn her lesson
. I want her to see what her stubbornness has done. I want to watch her cry as you fall, to watch the blood pour from you, knowing that she and this brat are next.” Simon gave a loud cry as St. Aubin tightened his hold again.
St. Aubin eased to the side, coming to stand against one of the upholstered benches that lined the wall
. Keeping his aim fast on Arthur, he dropped Simon to the cushion. Simon yelped louder and began to thrash. Ignoring the baby, St. Aubin brought his second hand up and braced the pistol, his eyes staring a hole deep into Arthur’s chest.
Lily breathed deep
. She eyed the long cylinder of the gun barrel, watched the finger grow taut, and waited for the bullet. Her glance shifted to Arthur, her golden wolf. Meeting his eyes, she tried to convey in a moment the depth of a feeling she had only begun to express. He met her eye, and then his glance lowered to her fingers, which lay limp upon the balustrade. It was an instant of perfect understanding. The hint of a smile played on her lips as she thrust herself onto the baluster – and hurtled towards the startled combatants.
Arthur glanced up a Lily. She would be his last vision. Too late, he thought, Wulf would be drawn by the pistol’s discharge, and would protect Lily. He met her eye and gave one last smile, then gazed in horror as she launched herself upon the balustrade. He had no time for thought as she hurtled down, catapulting towards him. All he could do was brace himself as she slammed into him, thrusting them both pell-mell clear across the entry hall.
A shot rang out
.
The door crashed open.