Borrowed Vows (27 page)

“And now, I suppose, you wish to add your accusations to Pendle’s. Your lover lies dead, murdered because I cravenly feared to face him on equal terms! Well, I salute you, madam, for your infidelity has not only achieved your lover’s demise, but my disgrace as well.” He sketched an insulting bow, and then crossed the river.

She hurried after him again, almost losing her balance on the stones. “I haven’t made sure of anything, Dane, and far from accusing you, I know you to be innocent!”

He halted at a point that was barely ten yards from Thaddeus Talbot’s body. “So you think me innocent? Well, I suppose that’s to be expected. After all, with Denham gone, you have to think of yourself, don’t you, and it’s clearly preferable to endure life here with me than face what might await you if I throw you out.”

“I know you’re innocent, Dane,” she said again.

“And I know you to be guilty, madam, so pray obey my order of last night. I want you off my land, and out of my life!”

He walked on again, and she cried desperately after him. “Jeremiah Pendle coerced Thaddeus Talbot, the Gloucester gunsmith, into fixing the pistol so it wouldn’t fire!”

He turned swiftly. “Talbot?”

“Yes. He was the one who attacked me last night. I was in the drawing room when I saw him climb in through the window. He took the pistol case from the cabinet, but then realized I was there. He panicked and struck me, then he did whatever he’d come to do, replaced the case in the drawer, and then left the way he came. He rode away in this direction, but his mount took fright by the stepping stones and bolted into the woods.”

Dane’s lips parted. The stray horse at the castle! He glanced along the path toward the river, remembering the hoof prints he’d noticed earlier, and the groan he thought he’d heard. Recalling the latter, he looked sharply at her. “How do you know this?”

“Because Talbot’s body is just over there.” She pointed into the trees. “He was dying when I found him, and he told me Pendle threatened to put him in jail for debt unless he did as the banker wanted.”

“Show me where he is,” Dane ordered.

Reluctantly she obeyed, stepping into the gloom of the woods and leading him to the gunsmith’s resting place among the crushed ferns. Dane bent swiftly to test for a pulse, but the moment he touched the already cool skin, he knew Thaddeus Talbot was indeed dead.

Kathryn looked down at the corpse. “He died at almost the same second as Thomas. I heard the shot and stood up, and when I glanced down again, he was dead. I wanted to tell you what I’d learned, so I ran to the grove.”

“Intending to clear my name, no doubt,” Dane said dryly. He straightened and began to walk back to the path. “I’ll have some men come to take him back to Gloucester.”

She followed him. “I’m telling the truth, Dane. I did come to the grove to tell you what Talbot told me!”

He replied without turning his head. “It’s barely a hundred yards from here to the grove, madam, and on your own admission you went there directly you heard the shot. Why, if you knew Talbot and Pendle to be the culprits, did you say nothing in my defense when you arrived? You must have heard every word that damned banker said, but you held your tongue.”

She stopped hurrying after him, for the truth was too preposterous. How could she possibly tell him she’d been kept out by some invisible force?

He turned. “You should have thought your lies through a little more carefully, my dear. All you had to say was that you arrived at the clearing the very second you spoke to me, and I might conceivably have credited you with telling a grain of truth, but as it is you admit to having been at the clearing for at least a quarter of an hour before saying anything. Hardly plausible, eh?”

“Dane, I—”

“Just go, Rosalind, before I begin to wonder exactly what your part has been in all this.”

“I haven’t done anything, Dane.”

“No? It seems to me that Pendle’s observations about you might have more than a grain of truth. You did indeed have as much reason as he did for wanting me dead, and even if Talbot’s was the hand that actually did the deed, you’re as capable as Pendle of hiring him.”

“I didn’t hire him, Dane, nor do I have any motive at all for wishing you dead. I love you, and that is the truth.”

“The truth? Deceit is your second nature, and I rue the day I ever set eyes on you, let alone fell in love with you. The two years of our marriage have been the most miserable of my life, more miserable even then the wretchedness I endured after Elizabeth’s infidelity, and the last thing I intend to allow now is more of your particularly persuasive brand of lying.” He turned to walk on again.

Once more she hurried after him. The wild clematis caught in her hair, and scattered dew over her face, but she hardly noticed. “Maybe most of our marriage has been unhappy, Dane, but can you honestly say that of the past few days?”

Suddenly he whirled about, catching her wrist and forcing her roughly back against a tree trunk. Then he pinned her there, his face only inches from hers. “You know damned well I can’t say it of the past few days, and you know it because you listened to everything George and I said! Damn you, Rosalind, what manner of creature are you? A Lorelei? Yes, that must be it, for who but a siren could behave as you do? You lured me with your beauty and sweetly lying voice, and I, poor fool, believed in you.” He took her chin roughly between his fingers, ignoring the tears that sprang to her eyes. “I’m still tempted to deal you the punishment you deserve, my lovely. Who would really blame me if I took you here and now? Whore or not, you’re still my wife!”

“I’m your wife, but not a whore,” she replied, her breath catching with pain as his fingers tightened cruelly.

“Agreed, for one must pay a whore, and you, my darling, give your favors freely!” He thrust her aside and she fell in the long grass beside the path. He stood over her. “I’ll find out the truth where Pendle’s concerned, of that you may be certain, and if he did indeed put Talbot up to it—”

“There’s nothing you can do, nothing either of us can do. Posterity is going to discredit you for having interfered with Thomas’s pistol in order to win the duel, and that is the end of it.” As the words came out, she felt something almost akin to a jolt that she’d actually been able to say them. She’d just told him something that was going to happen!

He didn’t seem to realize the significance of her words. “If you imagine I’m going to leave it like this, you’re gravely mistaken!” He strode away along the path, toward the edge of the woods and the sunlit meadows beyond.

Suddenly she knew she could tell him everything. Nothing but the whole fantastic truth would do now. Telling him wouldn’t be an attempt to alter history, nor would it interfere with the sequence of recorded events, but it might make every difference to the way he saw her. Maybe he’d think she was completely mad, but maybe, just maybe, he’d believe her. Was this what Alice’s fading intuition had predicted? Was this how the yearned for reunion could be achieved?

Sitting up, she called after him. “You likened me to a siren, but do you remember their story?”

He turned with a derisive laugh. “What’s this? A lesson in Greek mythology? Yes, madam, I do remember the story.”

“So, you recall they were twin sisters, one of whom fell to her death because Odysseus could resist her song?”

“That’s one version, yes.”

“I will suffer her fate if you resist me now, Dane.”

“Oh, come now, isn’t that a little melodramatic, even for you? I know you have talent enough for Drury Lane, but you don’t have to demonstrate as much to me.” His tone mocked.

“I’m not pretending, nor am I being melodramatic. It’s how I really feel. Dane, you were right when you said you felt there were twin Rosalinds, one in love with Thomas Denham, the other in love with you.”

Slowly he retraced his steps, and stood over her again. “What is that intended to mean?”

“I know you think ill of me for not saying anything all those minutes I was at the grove, but I couldn’t say anything. I didn’t have any choice.”

“A silent siren? A contradiction in terms, surely?” he observed acidly.

“I have a story to tell you, Dane, and, believe me, it’s as incredible as any Greek myth.”

“Oh, it’s bound to be,” he murmured dryly.

“Will you promise to hear me out, and not say anything until I finish?”

He searched her eyes. “Very well.”

“Thank you.”

“Oh, don’t thank me, for I’m merely curious to know how far you’re prepared to go with regard to self-preservation. As I observed earlier, with Denham gone, you’re on your own.”

“Just give me the chance to tell you everything, then, and only then, will you be able to judge me, for at the moment you can’t even begin to guess the truth.”

“You have my undivided attention.”

“You’d better sit down, for it will take some time.”

He sat on the grass next to her, and she lowered her glance, twisting her hands nervously together. This was it, the moment of ultimate confession. She couldn’t even begin to guess what his reaction would be. He was of the early nineteenth century, brought up in the beliefs and principles of an age that regarded the paranormal as the work of the devil, so how could she expect him to absorb the sort of things she was about to divulge? She was from the much more open-minded future, where books and movies about time travel were commonly found, but even that hadn’t made it any easier for her to cope when it actually happened. Telling him was a leap in the dark, and she knew it, but it was a chance she felt she had to take. At the end, he’d either have her committed, or believe what she said. Please God, let it be the latter.

Taking a deep breath, Kathryn began to relate everything. “To begin with, I’m not the Rosalind you married, I’m not even from this time, but from a future century.”

Her worst fears were instantly realized, as with a gesture of disgust he got up again. “Oh, dear God above, what’s this? The outlandish plot from a fourth-rate play? Or are you just plain mad?”

She caught his sleeve desperately. “Please, you promised to hear me out!” she cried.

“Then credit me with a little intelligence. I expected a rational explanation, not a badly adapted Gothic imbroglio!”

“This is no adaptation, and I’m certainly not mad!” She held on to his sleeve. “You promised you’d listen.
Please
observe your word!”

Reluctantly he sat down once more. “Very well, proceed if you must, but I warn you, only a fool would be taken in by the sort of nonsense you’ve uttered so far, and I’m certainly not a fool!”

“I know you aren’t, which is why I pray you’ll believe me,” she whispered.

“You have my word I won’t interrupt again.”

Chapter Thirty

Kathryn summoned her courage once more. “As...as I was saying, I’m from a future century, and my real name is Kathryn Vansomeren. I’m American, and all this started on a hot July day in New York.” She paused as he gave an impatient sigh, but he didn’t say anything, so she continued. “Richard and I had another argument, one of many, and ...”

“Richard?’’ he interrupted sharply.

“My husband in the future, Richard Vansomeren. He’s an architect.”

“I trust he has sound knowledge on the construction of lunatic asylums?” he observed caustically.

She lowered her eyes, and pressed bravely on. “We had another argument. He wanted to postpone coming to England on vacation. I got angry, and said I’d come on my own. We’d been having all sorts of problems with our marriage, and on top of that I was having trouble at work as well.”

“Work?” His brows drew together. “What do you mean?”

“I... I was a...” Her voice died away. How on earth did she explain what a TV reporter was? “Oh, it doesn’t matter what I mean, all that matters is that the argument ended with me saying I was coming to England anyway. So three days ago I left New York for London.”

Dane’s eyes swung quizzically toward her, and for a moment she thought he was going to question something—probably the three days, which must seem impossible to him—but he decided against it.

She went on. “When I got to Gloucester, I had the oddest feeling of
déjà  vu
.”

“Already seen?” he said, translating literally from the French.

“Yes, it was like I’d been in Gloucester before, but not quite. Oh, I don’t know how to really explain, except it turned out the place where I was staying in the future was Alice Longney’s cottage here in 1815.”

“I might have known she’d be involved in all this,” he murmured.

“She figures very much indeed, for it has all been her doing. Anyway, I went to bed that first evening, and something woke me at about midnight. I looked out of the window and saw someone else reflected in the glass instead of me. It was Rosalind. She—she’d been meeting Thomas Denham there while you were dining with George Eden, the bishop, and so on.”

A nerve flickered at his temple, but that was all the response he gave.

Kathryn stumbled determinedly on, for she had no choice now she’d gotten this far. “When...when I say it was Rosalind I saw in the glass, what I really mean is that it was me, but looking and sounding like Rosalind. To all intents and purposes Kathryn Vansomeren had
become
Rosalind. Thomas was taken in, he didn’t detect any changeover, and expected me to behave as warmly toward him as Rosalind would, but I couldn’t because all I could think was how much like Richard he was. When he touched me, I felt nothing. Anyway, he left, and Alice promised me a night of excitement and passion with you. Well, I half-thought I was dreaming it all, and so I went along with it. Excitement and passion was something I didn’t get from Richard, but I knew somehow that you were everything I’d ever wanted. I felt it from the moment I heard your name, and then, when I actually saw you...” She smiled as she remembered.

“Do continue, madam, for I vow you have my interest,” he prompted wryly.

“I had your interest that night, too, didn’t I?” she replied. “When we made love, it was wonderful. I’d always longed for lovemaking like that, and suddenly I had it. When Alice woke me the following morning, I didn’t want to go back to my own time, I wanted to stay with you and make love forever. But I didn’t have the choice, I was whisked to the future again. Then I started finding odd things. Someone had tidied the place, looked though my things, and called Richard on the phone, saying all sorts of nice things to him. Don’t ask me to explain about phones,” she begged quickly.