Midnight Pleasures With a Scoundrel (29 page)
“Right.” Greystone cast a quick glance at Swindler before looking away. “How’s Emma?”
“Shaken, but brave.”
“She was a lioness, your Emma.”
His Emma. God, he hoped that was true, but he had no idea if she’d forgive him for what had happened tonight.
Emma would have been content to wear nothing except the silk. She simply wanted to get out of this hideous place as quickly as possible. But James insisted that they had time to find her clothes and get her properly dressed while Greystone’s driver went to fetch their coach. Now they were alone inside it, his friends having decided to divide themselves among the other carriages and ensure that the blighters crammed inside them were properly delivered to Scotland Yard.
Leaning against James, Emma was exhausted from the draught and the ordeal. His arm was around her, his hand stroking her arm, so comforting. “However did you find me? How did you know where to look?”
He stiffened beside her, as though preparing himself for a blow. “We never left Greystone’s.”
She shook her head. “But, Eleanor…”
“She went to Cremorne Gardens, but Sir David and several men from Scotland Yard accompanied her. I can’t explain it, Emma. I just felt as though we were missing something. Rockberry was so forthcoming with information, and in spite of the horrors his brother had committed, the new Rockberry almost seemed to relish telling us what a monster his brother had been.” Shifting around, he cradled her chin and turned her face up until he could gaze into her eyes. “Forgive me, Emma, but I couldn’t tell you what I suspected. I knew that they’d give you some draught like they did Elisabeth, and it might cause you to say things that would have alerted them to the fact that we were in pursuit.”
Reaching up, she touched his beloved face. “Do you think there will ever come a day when we’ll be completely honest with each other, when we’ll hold no secrets from each other?”
“From this day forward, I swear to you.”
Nodding, she buried her head in the nook of his shoulder. And could only hope that his words were true.
She didn’t recall drifting off to sleep. She hadn’t wanted to, actually. She’d wanted to enjoy what little time remained to be in his arms. But she awoke to his lips pressed against her temple as he nudged her awake.
“Emma, we’ve arrived.”
With a sigh she struggled to open her eyes. It was the draught, she supposed, continuing to make her lethargic. Then she came fully awake with the realization that she would learn the truth of Eleanor’s fate. But the alertness quickly disappeared, and if not for James’s arm around her back, guiding her up the steps, she wasn’t certain she could have avoided lying down to sleep once again.
The butler opened the door. James only barely led her into the parlor when Eleanor popped up from the sofa—who was the man sitting beside her?—rushed across the room and hugged her as though her life depended on her doing so.
“Oh, Emma, dear Emma, you’re all right! Did he harm you?” She leaned back, studying Emma’s face, touching her cheek, her hair, as though needing to reassure herself that her sister was alive and as well as could be expected under the circumstances. “What did they do to you?”
Emma forced herself to smile, to try again to shake off the lethargy. “Nothing.”
Eleanor’s gaze shot to James.
“They gave her a draught or something to make her more easily bendable to their will, only to discover she’s not easily manipulated,” he said. “She’s not fully recovered.”
“Oh, then you must sit down,” Eleanor ordered her sister.
“Yes, I’d like that. I’m frightfully unsteady.”
Eleanor guided her to a chair. It felt wonderful and cozy to Emma as it enveloped her body.
“Emma,” Eleanor said, kneeling in front of her, touching her hair again. “Are you truly all right?”
She nodded.
“She fought him off,” James said, his voice echoing with pride. “She was quite remarkable.”
“She always has been.” Eleanor squeezed her hands.
“What of Sterling?” the duchess asked, and only then did Emma realize that she was in the room also.
“He’s fine, Frannie. He’s escorted the blighters to gaol. He should be home shortly,”
James told her.
“Oh, thank God.”
“Then I suppose I should be off to see to them,” a deep voice said. Eleanor smiled, looked up, then refocused her attention on Emma. “This is Sir David. He was with me in the gardens.”
A very distinguished-looking gentleman with dark hair and eyes, he bowed slightly. “Miss Watkins, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I’m sorry you had to go through so much tonight, but we appreciate your help in bringing these blackguards to justice.”
“You’re welcome.” The words seemed silly once she’d said them. Everything she’d done was further retribution for Elisabeth. Her mind, however, was slow in thinking, and she didn’t know what else she could have said.
“Emma,” Eleanor said with a tinge of excitement laced in her voice, “Sir David doesn’t believe I killed Lord Rockberry.”
“That’s good.” The fewer people—
“No, no. He truly doesn’t believe I did it! He said it appears that Rockberry was alive when I left and someone came along afterward and dug the dagger further in.”
“Oh, my God! You didn’t murder him?”
“Exactly. His brother most likely is the culprit. It all makes sense, doesn’t it?”
Even though Emma was still groggy, she heard the desperation in Eleanor’s voice that it could be as Sir David described, that she could be innocent of killing the man. Emma nodded.
“Oh, yes, it makes perfect sense.”
Leaning in, Eleanor hugged her tightly. “Oh, Emma, everything might turn out all right after all.”
Looking over Eleanor’s shoulder to the two men standing there with unreadable faces, Emma thought perhaps her sister was right.
“Miss Watkins, I must be off,” Sir David said. “I hope you will favor me by allowing me to call on you tomorrow afternoon, to make certain you’ve recovered from the ordeal of this night.”
Eleanor twisted around and looked up at him. “Oh, yes, sir. I would be most pleased to have you call.”
“Very good, then. Swindler, I’ll be waiting for you outside. Five minutes, man. We need to see to getting everything in order with these miscreants.”
“I’ll escort you out, Sir David,” Eleanor said, coming to her feet. James took her place, kneeling in front of Emma. “Will you be all right?”
She thought she nodded. She wondered how much longer before she had full use of her faculties again. “I’m just so very weary.” She touched his face. He turned his face into her palm and placed a kiss at its center.
“I wish I didn’t have to leave you,” he said.
She wished he didn’t either, but she knew the choice was not his. She also realized that she needed to reassure him. “I want them punished. I want them to pay for what they did.”
“I’ll see to it, I promise you.”
“I know you will.”
She heard a door opening, followed by rapid footsteps. Then Frannie was dashing across the room.
“Sterling!”
Emma looked over to see the duchess wrapping her arms around the duke, holding him close, while he buried his face in the curve of her neck. James glanced back over his shoulder at the reunited couple, just as the duke began leading his wife out of the room.
“Are they seeking privacy?” Emma whispered.
“Perhaps they’re giving it to us,” James responded, his voice low. He gently cradled her chin, leaned in and placed the softest of kisses on one corner of her mouth and then the other, as though she were somehow more fragile than she’d ever been, when in an odd sort of way, she felt stronger.
Before he could pull back completely, she pressed her lips to his, kissing him deeply, making certain that he understood that she didn’t consider any of tonight’s horrors his fault and that she believed him—there would be no more deceptions or secrets between them.
Frannie insisted that Swindler and Sir David take Greystone’s carriage to complete their night’s work. As the carriage moved at a steady clip through the streets, Swindler studied Sir David’s silhouette as the man sat across from him.
“Do you really believe that Eleanor didn’t kill Rockberry?”
With a sigh, Sir David turned his head to gaze out the window. “She’s a slight of a woman, Swindler. I don’t believe she’d have had the strength to plunge the dagger deeply enough.”
Swindler thought of Emma bringing the new Lord Rockberry to his knees. “Revenge for a sister you dearly love is a powerful motivator. Could give you strength that you might not normally have.”
“Sorry, Swindler. Can’t see it. I think it more likely that she stabbed him, the shock of it caused unconsciousness, then his brother came in for his nightly brandy and decided he wouldn’t mind having the title after all. Finished what Miss Watkins began. You’re my best man. I’m surprised you didn’t draw the same conclusion. Think about it.”
Swindler felt Sir David’s gaze fall heavily on him. “The new Rockberry is cut from the same cloth as his brother.”
“There you are,” Sir David said.
“A knife to the chest is not something from which one easily recovers. Even if his brother had not come in and finished the deed, it’s quite possible Rockberry would have died of the wound eventually. And if she caught his lung—”
“Perhaps, perhaps not. Hard to say.”
“Just to be clear, sir, you intend to charge the new Lord Rockberry with the murder of the previous Lord Rockberry?”
“Depends, Swindler. Does my best man believe it happened as I described?”
Swindler remembered studying the gaping wound, remembered Eleanor saying that she’d jabbed Rockberry and stepped back. Sir David’s scenario was possible. And if it hadn’t happened that way—he couldn’t see giving either Rockberry the power to ruin another sister’s life. “Yes, sir. I concur that it could have happened just that way.”
“Jolly good. I shall write up my report, and we shall so testify if called before the House of Lords.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Now that we have that nasty business out of the way, tell me everything you know about Miss Eleanor Watkins—the real Eleanor.”
With a low chuckle, Swindler proceeded to do exactly that.
They treated Emma as though she was a princess. Eleanor and the duchess bathed her and washed her hair. They toweled her dry and braided her hair. They helped her slip into her softest night rail. When Emma crawled into bed, Eleanor clambered in with her and they held each other tightly, just as they had when they were young girls, and as on the night after they discovered Elisabeth at the bottom of the cliffs.
They stopped sharing the same room shortly after their father died and Eleanor had moved into his bedchamber. But tonight they needed to be together. Still, there was an emptiness to the bed.
“I miss her so much,” Eleanor said, as though reading Emma’s mind.
“Eleanor, I…” She let her voice trail off.
“What, dear sister?”
“I felt as though she was with me tonight. In that horrible room. That she was there, urging me on, giving me the strength to attack Rockberry. If so, then perhaps she forgives me for yelling at her.”
“Oh, Emma.” Eleanor squeezed her tightly. “She knows you didn’t mean it.”
“I hope so. I’d give anything to have her back.”
“I know. I would, too.”
They lay in silence for several minutes, each lost in their own reflections of Elisabeth. Her sweet nature, her adventuresome spirit.
After a long while Emma said, “Eleanor, tell me about Sir David.”
Eleanor’s laughter circled around them. “Isn’t he absolutely wonderful?”
“How did it all come about?”
“Mr. Swindler—”
“You can call him James.”
“All right. James led me to the carriage, handed me up, and there was this man sitting there in the shadows. Sir David. James’s superior. James told me that Sir David would see to matters at the gardens. I was so nervous. But Sir David calmed me with quiet words and reassurances. He had such faith in me.
“He explained that he had other men at Cremorne to keep an eye out. I was simply to walk around until someone approached me. No one ever did. I can’t imagine what Rockberry was thinking to abduct you from here. He must have known that they would know it was him. He took no pains at all to disguise what he was about.”
Emma fought to remember what she’d heard in the carriage. “It was part of the game, I think. To be so bold, so arrogant. And then to find a way to get away with it. He thought no one could touch him.”
“I wonder what they’re going to do about him.”
“And the others,” Emma whispered. “They all need to pay. I know James and his friends have the means to see someone punished who deserves it, by making him trade places with someone who doesn’t. We should have trusted him from the beginning, Eleanor.”
“But we trust him now. That should count for something.”
They lay in silence for several minutes before Eleanor said, “The duchess has offered to introduce us into society.”
“All I want, Eleanor, is to return home.”
S
ir David’s office was again shadowed. Standing before his desk, Swindler was acutely aware of the presence in the corner, although this time the scent wafting toward him was decidedly feminine.
“We’ve identified the men you picked up two nights ago,” Sir David said. “The ladies have been released to their fathers, but the gentlemen—although I’m offended to refer to them as such—must be dealt with. Rockberry will be tried by his peers for the murder of his brother. The other five we would prefer to simply transport, but as two are lords, matters must be handled with a bit more delicacy. They must disappear, but we wish no harm to come to them in the process.
“I’m well aware, Swindler, that you have the skills to make undesirables disappear, and that you often remove from prison those who have been condemned to live within its walls. We would like it to appear as though the lords have died so their heirs may take the reins. Are you up to the task?”
Swindler gave a brusque nod. Sometimes it was better not to voice words.
“There will be a knighthood in it for you, Swindler,” Sir David said. Swindler turned to the corner, knelt, and bowed his head. “I require no knighthood to faithfully serve her majesty. I would request that Misses Emma and Eleanor Watkins be granted pardon for any crimes that might be brought against them now or in the future in relation to this incident.”