Carla Kelly (31 page)

He came out of
the breakfast room with Hugh. With a sob she ran to him and threw
herself into his arms, hugging him to her, grasping all of him that
she could hold. Dimly she heard Hugh say something about waiting
outside, as Matthew picked her up and carried her back upstairs. He
sat down with her on the bed, making no attempt to extricate
himself from her fierce embrace. He stroked the back of her neck,
his lips on her hair, and she gradually relaxed her
grip.

“
Better now?” he asked at last.

She shook her
head and burrowed closer to him.

“
I
just sat in the chair and watched you for an hour, my dear,” he
said, speaking into her hair. “It was the prettiest sight I have
ever seen. That was how I wanted to remember you, utterly at peace.
I don’t think I can bear any more tears, Omega, so please, please
don’t cry.”

She shook her
head again but loosened her grip on him, sitting up finally in his
lap.

“
That’s better. Now, kiss me like a good girl and let me
go.”

Her eyes still
closed, she raised her lips to his and kissed him. His lips were
soft and warm. Omega put her hands behind his neck. He did not
break off the kiss, but continued to taste her warmth and softness,
as if he could not get enough. Finally she released him and leaned
her cheek against his shoulder again.

“
That
will ... last you awhile?”

He smiled. “I
think so. Don’t follow me downstairs.” He deposited her on the bed,
putting the blankets up around her shoulders. “It’s getting cold
again. Soon it will be autumn, Omega.” He leaned over and kissed
her one last time. “The people here are friendly, my dear. They
will help you with whatever schemes you come up with for their
betterment. And I think Lord Nickle and Sir Martin will move on
that carting route. It is something I have worked for. I leave it
for you to see it through.”

He went to the
door and opened it, looking back just once. “I have a favor,
dearest.”

“
Anything, anything.”

“
Just
this. Put your wedding ring on my little finger after
 
... after this is over.
Eternity is a long, long time, Omega, and it will be easier if part
of you is with me.”

“
I
will,” she whispered.

He nodded to her,
blew her a kiss, and closed the door behind him. Numb with sorrow,
she hugged Matthew’s pillow to her breast and listened as they rode
away from the manor.

She would have to
begin forgetting him all over again, but this time it would be
different. Before, she had loved Matthew Bering and lost him. This
time, she had loved Matthew Bering and lost him, and lost herself
in him. This time would be infinitely more difficult; it would be
impossible.

When it was
barely light outside, Omega dressed and found her cane, negotiating
the hall with more assurance, now that she could see where she was
going. She looked out the window. It was still too dark for the
duel, but she was sharply aware that the Byford Common knoll would
receive the first strong light of morning, and there would be a
killing. The thought snatched the breath from her body.
It isn’t
fair
, she told herself.
It isn’t fair
.

She went
downstairs again. None of the servants came up from their quarters,
although she could hear them talking in low tones. She couldn’t
have faced them anyway. Moving quietly, Omega opened the front door
and sat down on the steps, waiting for the sun to rise. She
wondered if she would be able to hear the shots.

Omega listened,
and heard only a horse approaching, galloping too fast to make the
slight curve where the lane circled in front of the manor. She sat
up, alert, and sucked in her breath as a horse and rider leapt
smoothly over the low stone wall and came to a halt right in front
of her.

Omega jumped up,
praying that it was not Hugh already, come to tell her that it was
all over. “Oh, please, what is it?” she begged.

And then she
smelled the cigar and heard the rough voice of Timothy Platter.
“Miss Chartley, what’re ye doing out here? Haven’t you gentry morts
a particle of sense?”

She hurried down
the steps and grasped the stirrup. “Mr. Platter, oh, please, can
you stop Matthew and Rotherford? They have gone to
duel.”

The Runner swore
and threw away his cigar. “Damn fools,” he exclaimed. “Where are
they?”

“
Byford Common, the knoll. But I don’t know where that is!” She
hurried to the front door and shouted, “Tildy! I need
you!”

In a moment the
maid stood beside her. Without a word the Runner grabbed her hand
and pulled her up behind him. “We’re going to Byford Common, miss,”
he growled. “If you know a short way, don’t be shy about
it!”

“
Across the field is quicker, if you can jump the
fences.”

The Runner
grabbed her hands and pulled them together across his stomach.
“Hang on, girl. Tell me the direction as we go. If you should fall
off, I’ll not stop, mind.”

They were gone.
Omega shivered and rubbed her hands over her arms. She sat back on
the steps. In a few minutes she was joined by Twinings and the
footman, and then Antoine, the potboy, and the scullery maid. They
were all quiet, and silently she blessed them, drawing strength
from their presence.

Omega willed the
sun to remain below the horizon, but it rose anyway, with all the
promise of a beautiful day. Men would go about their haying, women
would continue their preparations for harvest, not even aware that
Omega Chartley’s heart was broken and would never mend.

“
Can
we hear anything from the knoll?” she asked finally.

“
Depends on the wind, Miss Chartley,” said Twinings.

They sat for an
hour, until the sun was well up and the roosters had settled down
to a new day. Twinings was the first to stand. “I believe I should
see about breakfast,” he said. “Come, Antoine.”

They got no
f
arther
than a step
inside the entrance when Omega stood slowly and shaded her eyes
with her hand. A carriage was tooling down the road. Tied to the
back of the carriage was Matthew’s horse. She sobbed out loud, and
then looked again. Rotherford’s horse was tied next to it, and
overseeing them both was the Bow Street Runner, cigar clenched in
his teeth, a big grin on his face. Tildy waved to Omega from her
perch behind the Runner, and Omega felt her heart begin to beat
again. She walked down the steps.

The carriage
swept into the circle drive and stopped by the steps. The door
opened and out stepped the constable, looking remarkably
displeased. He tipped his hat to Omega. “I don’t scruple to tell
you, miss, that both of these gents are too old for this sort of
dandified nonsense. And our own justice of the peace, too! Now, how
does it look when our betters carry on in such a ramshackle
fashion, I ask you? Stand back, miss.”

The constable
swung down the steps and Lord Rotherford descended, tight-lipped
and grim about the mouth. He was followed by Matthew Bering,
equally dour.

All of a sudden,
it was too much. For the first time in her life, Omega Chartley
quietly fainted, caught at the last minute by the
potboy.

When she opened
her eyes, she was stretched out on the lawn, her head in Matthew’s
lap. “You’re alive,” she said.

“
Indeed, my dear. And under arrest for dueling, for which I
have Timothy Platter and the constable
I
hired to
thank.”

She turned her
head slightly and regarded the two men, who squatted on the lawn
close by. “Thank you, Mr. Platter. I don’t think you ever made a
better arrest, Constable.”

The constable
merely grunted, but the Runner tipped his hat to her. “Someone had
to stop these two fools.” He held his hands out in front of him.
“There they was, in all their magnificence, already stepping off
the ten paces. D’ye know I’ve never seen a duel before?” He
grinned. “I was almost of a mind to let them continue, except I
feared our laddie would likely get the short stick.” He glanced in
Rotherford’s direction. “Now, had the wind been blowing the other
way, why, I might have been inclined to let them continue. But
fair’s fair, eh, my lord?”

Rotherford only
looked straight ahead, no expression in his eyes. “I’ll take you to
court for this, Matthew,” he said. “You’ve had your chance to lie
low these many years, but no, you had to stir up the
water.”

“
Yes,”
agreed Matthew dryly, “wretched of me to show a little spine after
all this time. Can’t imagine what I was thinking.”

“
I
will make you wish you had not.”

Matthew shrugged.
“Suit yourself, Edwin.”

Omega reached for
his hand and clasped it to her stomach. He smiled down at her. “I
can’t say that I’m disappointed Platter showed up.”

“
You
should not be!” Timothy said indignantly. “And me riding all night
from Suffolk, with a tiny stop in London.” He motioned to the
constable. “Sir, you’ve done a spanking fine job, a fine job. Now,
if you don’t mind, I’ll take over.”

The constable
bobbed his head up and down. “You’ll get no complaint from me. ’Tis
the haying season, my lord, and I’ll just have to trust the two of
you until we are done in our fields.”

Platter clapped
his hands together as the constable drove off. “And now, Lord
Byford, if you would, let us go into the house. I have a matter of
business that should prove of great interest to you and your lovely
relative over there.” They adjourned to the bookroom, Platter
seating himself behind Matthew’s desk after a gesture from Lord
Byford. Rotherford took his chair as far away from the others as he
could. Matthew stood behind Omega’s chair, his hands resting
lightly on her shoulders.

Platter heaved a
sigh and leaned back in the chair, hands across his belly. He took
out a cigar, looked at Omega, and thought better of it. He eyed the
cigar for a moment, bit off a hunk of it, and started to chew. He
regarded Matthew speculatively.

“
My
lord, do you know what happened the other night in
London?”

“
I
can’t imagine, Timothy. Please enlighten all of us.”

“
A
curious robbery. I don’t pretend to understand it. A bloke of the
thieving population pinched a wooden box from under the bed of a
stinking, reeking dustman on Quallen Lane.”

“
Fancy!” exclaimed Matthew.

Rotherford raised
his head, and then elaborately ignored the rest of them.

Timothy sucked on
the bit of cigar. “I don’t know what’s happening to the thieves of
London. Silly man runs straight into the loving arms of one of my
fellow Bow Street Boys.”

“
How
fortuitous,” declared Matthew, ignoring Omega, who was regarding
him suspiciously.

“
Indeed. And do you know, there was only an old shirt and
cravat in that box, my lord, plus a curious stickpin. I don’t know
who it belonged to, but it’s so distinctive that I’m sure we’ll
know its owner soon enough.” He leaned toward Matthew in a
conspiratorial way. “And, my lord, there were the faintest rusty
brown stains all over it.” His eyes shifted from side to side.
“Blood, my lord.”

Rotherford
appeared more interested. If Platter noticed, he gave no
sign.

“
Now,
why, I asked myself, would a cove pinch something like that, and
only that?”

“
I’m
sure you were curious,” agreed Matthew affably. “Pay attention,
Omega.”

“
I was
so curious I set a guard to watch that house. He had watched for
only a moment or two when a messenger rode up all of a lather and
handed the landlord a note.” Timothy Platter leaned back and patted
his stomach. “That horse was so lathered, why, it could have come
all the way from Byford, bless my soul.”

“
I’m
sure it’s possible, although we have excellent mail-coach service.
Perhaps it just wasn’t fast enough. Whatever could the note have
said?” asked Matthew, all interest.

Platter clicked
his tongue and shook his head. “I’ll never know, my lord, for do
you know what happened next?”

“
No,
what?”

“
In
ten minutes, the whole house was on fire! Why, you would have
thought there was something in that message that scared the
landlord.”

Matthew’s hands
tightened on Omega’s shoulders. “The devil, you say.”

The Runner
slapped his knee. “What a blaze!”

“
And
did it all burn down?” asked Rotherford, making his first
contribution. A smile of satisfaction played about his
lips.

“
Oh,
I’m afraid it did, laddie, my lord,” Platter said mournfully, but
then he brightened up. “But do you know, the Runner watching the
house was able to dash inside and save some
possessions!”

“
Good
for him. My faith in London justice grows by the minute. What did
he save?” asked Matthew. “Or shall I guess?”

Platter grinned
and took another bite off his cigar. “Guess if you want, my
lord.”

“
He
saved a mattress, didn’t he? From the second floor. One with
bloodstains like the ones on that shirt?”