Rendezvous (44 page)

“You must forgive me for what will no doubt be a most uncomfortable journey, madam.” Lovejoy deftly bound Augusta’s hands and gagged her with a twisted cravat. “But rest assured there is worse to come. The Channel can be very rough.”

He tossed her into the small carriage, pulled down the curtains on the windows, and slammed the door shut. A moment later Augusta heard him climb onto the box and pick up the reins.

The horses set off at a furious pace. Lost in the darkness of the carriage, Augusta had no way of knowing which direction they were headed. Lovejoy had said something about a sea voyage.

The nearest harbor was Weymouth. Surely he would not be so bold as to try to get her aboard a vessel in such a public place, Augusta thought.

Then she reminded herself that, whatever else could be said of him, no one would deny that the Spider was as bold as he was vicious.

She could only bide her time and wait for an opportunity to escape or draw attention to herself. In the meantime, she must fight the despair that threatened to seize her. At least Meredith was safe. But the thought of never seeing Harry again was too much to bear.

•  •  •

The smell of the sea, the clatter of wagon traffic, and the creak of timber roused Augusta a long time later. She listened carefully, trying to pinpoint their location. It was unmistakably a harbor, and that meant Lovejoy had indeed driven to Weymouth.

Augusta straightened uncomfortably in the seat, wincing as the bindings cut into her wrists. She had managed to loosen the gag without Lovejoy taking notice by catching the twisted cravat on a brass fitting near the door and tugging against it.

The carriage came to a halt. Augusta heard voices and then the door was opened. Lovejoy, still in disguise, leaned inside. He was holding a large cloak and a black, heavily veiled bonnet.

“A moment, my good man,” he said to someone over his shoulder. “I must see to my poor wife. She is not feeling at all well.”

Augusta tried to evade the bonnet, but Lovejoy gave her a glimpse of the knife in his hand and she went still as she realized he would have no compunction about slipping it between her ribs.

In a remarkably short time, veiled and securely wrapped in the hooded cloak, Augusta was lifted out of the carriage. Lovejoy must have appeared very much the solicitous husband as he carried her along the stone quay to where a small ship was tied. No one could see the knife concealed in his hand because of the folds of the cloak.

Augusta peered through the thick black veil, watching for whatever opportunity might present itself.

“I’ll fetch yer luggage for ye, sir,” a familiar, rasping voice volunteered from close at hand.

“My luggage should already be on board,” Lovejoy snapped. He stepped onto the gangplank. “Tell your scoundrel of a captain that I wish to sail immediately. We have the tide.”

“Aye, sir,” said the rasping voice. “’E’s just been waitin’ fer ye, ’e ’as. I’ll tell ’im yer ’ere.”

“Be quick about it. I have paid him a great deal of money for his services and I expect satisfaction.”

“Aye, sir. But first I’ll point out yer cabin. Yer lady wife looks like she’ll be wantin’ to take to ’er bunk directly, eh?”

“Yes, yes, point out the cabin. Then notify the captain to get under way. And watch what you are doing with that line, man.”

“It’s in the way, ain’t it? Cap’n don’t like that. ’E runs a nice tight ship, ’e does. ’E’ll have me arse for that. I’d best get the blasted thing outta the way.”

“What the bloody hell?” Lovejoy staggered, trying to catch his balance as the line looped around his boot like a snake. His grip on Augusta slipped.

Augusta saw her chance. She screamed and threw herself forward out of Lovejoy’s arms as he fought to keep his feet.

Augusta heard a bellow of rage from her captor as he lost his grip on her. Through the veil she saw the grizzled seaman with the rasping voice reach out to catch her, but he fell back under the impact, enveloped by her cloak.

“Damnation,” Peter Sheldrake muttered as he and Augusta both toppled over the edge of the gangplank and plummeted into the cold water of the harbor.

Harry saw his friend go over the edge with Augusta and realized that his wife was safe. Peter would take care of her.

Harry had his own hands full with an enraged Lovejoy, who was already back on his feet, a knife in his fist.

“Goddamn you,” Lovejoy hissed. “You were well named,
Nemesis
, but the Spider always drinks his victim’s blood in the end.”

“There will be no more blood for you, Spider.”

Lovejoy hurtled forward, his arm extended for a gut-slashing thrust. Harry sidestepped the attack and managed to catch hold of Lovejoy’s arm as he tried to shift direction at the last instant.

Both men were thrown off balance. Lovejoy went down and Harry went with him, still clutching the arm that held
the knife. They landed heavily and rolled nearly to the edge of the gangplank.

“You went too far this time, Spider.” Still grappling with Lovejoy’s knife arm, Harry tried to force back his assailant’s hand. The point of the blade hovered just over Harry’s eye. “But then, that was always your problem, was it not? You always took things one step too far. Too many deaths, too much blood, too clever for your own good. That was why you lost in the end.”

“Bastard.” The goading words had lit more wild, uncontrolled fires in Lovejoy’s glittering eyes. His teeth were bared in a savage grimace as he fought to sink the blade into Harrys eye. “I shall not lose this time.”

Harry felt the surge of maniacal power in Lovejoy’s arm. He heaved frantically to the side to avoid the thrust. At the same time his fingers slid down to Lovejoy’s wrist.

Harry twisted the wrist with every ounce of strength at his command. Something snapped. The blade altered direction, pointing upward.

Lovejoy screamed as he came down on top of his own knife. He spasmed and rolled to the side, then seized the handle of the knife and jerked it out of his chest.

Blood spurted, the bright red blood of death.

“The Spider never loses,” Lovejoy muttered hoarsely as he stared at Harry with disbelieving eyes. “He cannot lose.”

Harry sucked in air, tried to catch his breath. “You are wrong. You and I were fated to meet, Lovejoy. The final rendezvous has been kept.”

Lovejoy did not answer. His eyes glazed as he died the death he had meted out to so many others. He toppled over the edge of the gangplank and fell into the sea.

Harry heard Augusta calling to him, but he could not seem to gather the energy to get to his feet. He simply lay there on the gangplank, utterly exhausted, and listened to the sound of her footsteps as she ran toward him.

“
Harry
.”

When he felt water dripping onto his face, he opened his
eyes and smiled up at her. She was drenched. The skirts of her gown were soaked and her hair was plastered to her head. Love and anguished concern blazed in her eyes. She had never looked more beautiful.

“Harry. Harry, are you all right? Tell me you are all right.” She crouched beside him, cradling him against her damp bodice.

“I am all right, love.” He caught her fast, heedless of her wet clothing. “I am all right now that I know you are safe.”

Augusta clutched at him. “Dear heaven, I was so terrified. How did you realize what was happening? How did you know he was bringing me to Weymouth? How did you know which vessel he had planned to take?”

It was Peter who answered her questions as he came up behind her. “The Spider always did have the devil’s own luck. But Graystone, on the other hand, was known for being able to second-guess old Lucifer himself.”

Augusta shivered and glanced over the edge of the gangplank. Lovejoy was floating facedown in the water.

“You are cold, darling,” Harry said quietly. He got to his feet and turned her away from the sight of Lovejoy’s body. “We must get you into some warm clothes.”

He led her toward the warmth of a nearby tavern.

Augusta, Harry, and Peter arrived back at Graystone late in the afternoon and the entire household rushed out to greet them. The servants grinned broadly and told each other they had all known their master would rescue the mistress.

Clarissa Fleming beamed in relief from the top of the steps as Meredith went running toward her parents.

“
Mama
, you are safe. I knew Papa would save you. He told me so.” Meredith wrapped her arms around Augusta and hugged her fiercely. “Oh, Mama, you are so brave.”

“So are you, Meredith.” Augusta smiled down at her. “I shall never forget what a brave little girl you were when I found you in that cottage. You didn’t even cry, did you?”

Meredith shook her head violently, her face still concealed by the skirts of Augustas gown. “Not then. But I cried later when Miss Ballinger took me away and we realized you had not been able to follow us.”

“I did not know what to do then,” Claudia said, standing to the side with her hand in Peter’s. “I heard the pistol shot and was absolutely frantic. I realized I could not risk Meredith’s life by turning back. So I kept going. Graystone and Peter were just arriving at the house when Meredith and I got there. They guessed immediately Lovejoy was heading for Weymouth.”

“Once we knew we were too late to keep you out of his clutches, Weymouth was the next logical place to look,” Harry explained. “The Spider was always fond of the sea as an escape route. Sheldrake and I rode straight for Weymouth and got there ahead of Lovejoy’s carriage. Then we went looking for a ship called the
Lucy Ann
.”

“It turned out to be an old smuggler’s craft,” Peter said. “The captain had apparently worked for the Spider occasionally during the war. We persuaded him to let us take over his vessel for a time this morning.”

“You persuaded him?” Claudia smiled skeptically.

“Let us say the man soon saw the light of sweet reason when Graystone used a bit of cold, clear logic on him,” Peter said blandly. “Graystone is very good at logic, you know. It is obvious your cousin Richard had concealed information about the Spider in that coded poem. He was trying to get word to the British authorities the night he was killed.”

“Peter was right,” Harry said much later. “I am very good with logic.”

Augusta smiled. She was lying in his arms in the deep shadows of his bed. She felt warm and safe and wanted. She felt she had finally come home. “Yes, Harry, everyone knows that.”

“But I am not particularly clever about a few other
things.” He tightened his arm around her and drew her close. “I did not, for instance, recognize love when I fell straight into it.”

“
Harry
.” Augusta raised herself up on one elbow so that she could look down into his eyes. “Are you telling me that you fell in love with me right from the start?”

His mouth slanted in a slow, wicked smile that sent delicious shivers through her. “Obviously that must have been what happened, madam. Otherwise, there really is no accounting for my totally irrational behavior during our courtship and marriage.”

Augusta pursed her lips. “I suppose that is one view of the situation. Oh, Harry, I am so happy tonight.”

“That delights me more than I can say, my love. I have discovered that my happiness is forever linked with yours.” He brushed his mouth across hers and then grew more serious as he watched her through narrowed eyes. “You risked your life to save Meredith today.”

“She is my daughter.”

“And you are fiercely loyal to the members of your family, are you not?” He smiled slightly as he ran his fingers through her hair. “A little tigress.”

“It is very good to have a family again, Harry.”

“You told me just before I sent you out of London that you knew Meredith was my greatest weakness. But you were wrong. You are my greatest weakness. I love you, Augusta.”

“And I love you, Harry. With all my heart.”

Harry’s hand wrapped around the back of her head. Augusta’s hair tumbled over his arm as he dragged her mouth down to his once more.

Harry came awake abruptly the next morning as his wife leaped from the bed and grabbed the chamber pot.

“Excuse me,” Augusta gasped as she bent over the pot. “I believe I am going to be very ill.”

Harry got up and went to hold her head. “Nerves, no doubt,” he announced as she finished being sick. “Too much excitement yesterday, I imagine. You must spend the day in bed, my dear.”

“’Tis not nerves.” Augusta glowered at him as she used a damp cloth to wipe her face. “No Northumberland Ballinger was ever ill from nerves.”

“Well, then,” said Harry quite calmly, “in that case, you must be pregnant.”

“Good Lord.” Augusta sat down abruptly on the edge of the bed. She stared at him in shock. “Do you really believe it possible?”

“I would say it was a distinct possibility,” Harry assured her with satisfaction.

Augusta thought about that for a moment. And then she smiled gleefully. “I would think that the combination of the Northumberland Ballinger bloodlines and those of the earls of Graystone should prove very interesting. What do you think, my lord?”

Harry laughed. “Very interesting indeed, my love.”