Wicked And Wild: Spencers in Love Book Two (19 page)

Chapter 37

            Less than hour later, Lucien was hurrying out
the front door with a stooped and cloaked Alastair. A footman slammed the door
as soon as both were inside and Gilles set the team in motion.

            Mirabelle was on the verge of being distraught
when they left her in the study. Lucien wondered if half of it was because she
was being left behind. It didn't help that Alastair stood back and grimaced as
Gilles pulled on a larger, borrowed great coat.

            "Make sure he aims at your chest or the
armor will be useless." He handed Gilles two pistols.

            "Can't we do something different?"
Mirabelle begged.

            "I'll be fine, brat." Gilles kissed
her on the forehead and headed out. She turned to Alastair who had pulled her
largest cloak on and was tucking two pistols into his waistband.

            "This is too dangerous! What if he has
help?" She hissed as she grabbed Alastair's arm.

            "It's highly unlikely. His actions are that
of a desperate man set on vengeance. He wouldn't be hiding in wardrobes or
trying to draw you away from Winthorpe if he had reinforcements." He
pulled her to him and kissed her hair before he turned to leave. "Even if
he should have help, I still like our odds."

            Mirabelle turned to Lucien and her eyes
glistened. He felt a stabbing pain in his heart as he gathered her in his arms.
She tilted her face back and pressed her lips to his.

            "I don't know what I'll do if you don't
come back. I waited so long, I can't lose you now." A tear rolled down her
cheek and her chin quivered. Lucien hated the idea of leaving her when she was
so vulnerable.

            "Look at me." He ducked his head so
that he could see her eyes. "I'll be back. I won't let anything keep us
apart." He took her lips and kissed her tenderly. Mirabelle clung when he
pulled away. "Be good, sweetheart. Don't give these men any trouble and do
what you're told." He took her chin and stared in her eyes. "Promise
me." She nodded and he swooped down and brushed his lips against hers
before he turned for the door.

            Once the coach was moving swiftly down the
drive, Lucien leaned back against the cushions and sighed.

            "I'm so sorry I brought this upon our
family."

            Alastair paused while folding Mirabelle's cloak
and looked at him.

            "You didn't bring this upon our family.
Whitrose did." He finished folding and tucked the cloak under the seat.

            "But if I hadn't investigated him..."
Alastair cut him off.

            "That's not who we are, Lucien. With
everything the three of us have done, I'm surprised we haven't seen more
repercussions. It's not as if I targeted the weak and harmless. Any of the
tasks I assigned to us could have had similar consequences." Lucien shook
his head and leaned forward.

            "No. You were always careful and you didn't
assign Whitrose. I decided to do this on my own."

            "You came to me with your suspicions and I
helped you where I could. If I didn't think it was the right thing to do or
that it would put the family in danger, I would have said so." Alastair
checked his pistols and set them on the seat next to him. "The fact
remains, you can't be in our line of work for as long as we were and not end up
in someone's sights at some point. It was just a matter of time."

            Lucien tried to relax but couldn't shake the
feeling that he was to blame. The image of Mirabelle asleep in their bed and
the white rose on the pillow next to her came to him. He felt his throat tighten
and his body tense. Rage swelled within him.

            "He was in my room, Alastair. He saw my
beautiful wife, asleep in my bed. What if he touched her?" His voice
became hoarse and his throat convulsed. Even in the gloom of the coach, Lucien
could see Alastair's eyes flare. His body tensed but was otherwise still.

            "You have a decision to make, Lucien. I
suspect you'll be torn between wanting to see him face justice and wanting to
kill him yourself for what he's done to you and Mirabelle. I predict that you
will choose to do the honorable thing." Alastair sat up and became more
focused. Lucien knew that he was expecting Whitrose to make his move soon. He
felt the familiar rush of energy that always came before a fight.

            "What would you choose?" He asked as he
carefully peeked behind the curtain. They were about to enter a long stretch of
forest. It was the perfect location for an attack.

            "You know I do not value honor over life,
nor do I afford it to the likes of Whitrose. Also, as I do not have a wife, I
am not motivated by the same emotions you are."

            Whatever Lucien was about to say was interrupted
by a pounding on the roof as the coach began to slow. It rocked violently from
side to side, Alastair and Lucien braced themselves and it came to a lurching
halt. Both slid against the side, their backs against the wall, next to the
door and pulled their knees against their chest. A pistol fired and they felt
weight shifting up on the box. Lucien had a moment to pray that Gilles was
pretending to be injured before they heard footsteps approaching the door of
the coach. Lucien held his breath as the door was hauled open. 

            "What the...?" As they had intended,
in the darkened interior, the coach looked empty. A head pushed into the space
between Lucien and Alastair and they both cocked their pistols. Stunned to find
four pistols aimed at his face, Whitrose scrambled back. Alastair leapt out of
the coach, his pistols trained on Whitrose. Lucien jumped out after him and
looked up to see Gilles standing, one foot on the roof of the coach with both
pistols aimed at Whitrose. Lucien turned and raised his pistols as he
approached his furious adversary.

            One a good day, Whitrose resembled a bulldog. He
was wide and solidly built with a massive head and face that sagged with jowls.
As Lucien faced him, he was red with fury and spittle bubbled at the corners of
his mouth as he seethed.

            “No! She's supposed to be in there!” He waved a
pistol at the carriage. “I've waited months for this. Do you know how I've had
to live since you ruined me, Clerendon?” Whitrose began pacing. “I've had to
creep from dirty warehouse to dirty warehouse, sleeping with rats. I thought
you'd stop after I faked my death but you wouldn't let it go.” He started to
advance towards Lucien but remembered he had six pistols aimed at him. “She was
supposed to be in there and you were supposed to watch her die. I didn't care
what happened after that, I had to see you suffer.”

            “Sorry to disappoint you.” Lucien assumed that
Whitrose was unstable but this was something all together different. His
reaction to Whitrose’s plans for Mirabelle was almost physical.

            “You were in London!” He flailed in Alastair and
Gilles’ directions. "I knew I should have made sure the two of you were
out of the way first!" Whitrose’s outrage might have been humorous if he
wasn't discussing killing everyone Lucien loved. "If that fool Eckley
hadn't botched things in Surrey, you'd both be dead now!"

            Gilles sprang from the coach and prowled towards
Whitrose.

            "
He attacked my wife
!" Gilles
roared in Whitrose's face. "Let's take him into the woods, Lucien. I want
this to be slow." Whitrose's eyes flared and he backed away.

            “This is all his fault!” He pointed to Lucien.
“If he would have left me alone, none of this would have happened.” Whitrose
screamed as he lunged at Lucien. Gilles grabbed him by the collar and shoved
him towards the woods.

            “You were breaking the law, Whitrose! You were
hurting innocent people and destroying lives.” Lucien countered. Whitrose
laughed as he threw his hands up in the air.

            “You're so noble, Clerendon! None of those
people mattered. Would you tell the lion not to eat the lamb?” As he stared
into Lucien’s eyes, he saw that Whitrose was truly the monster he'd described
him as.

            “It's over, Whitrose. You’re going to pay for
your crimes. You deserve to be punished.”

            "You deserve to pay for what you did to me!
You deserve to lose everything!" He spat as he stumbled towards Lucien. Gilles
grabbed him by the collar again.

            “I promise, if you take another step, I’ll put a
bullet in your leg. Then, I'll drag you into the woods and butcher you like a
deer.” Gilles sounded hard and empty. Lucien had never seen him so devoid of
emotion, on the verge of violence. He knew that he'd killed and was a dangerous
man, but it had been as if it was a life separate from the one he lived with
the family. It saddened Lucien to see it brought out in Gilles now, he'd just
put the pain of his past behind him. “I'll cut you into so many pieces; there
won't be anything left once the animals have had their feast.” He whispered to
Whitrose as he pressed a pistol against the underside of Whitrose’s chin. Whitrose
was on his tiptoes, stretching, trying to put space between his head and the pistol.
He was pale and sweat poured down his face.

            "No, Gilles." Lucien shook his head as
he stifled the loathing and hatred that tried to claw its way out of him.
"Everything he's done to us amounts to failed attempts and threats. He
needs to face all of his victims. They deserve to see him hang." Gilles was
still for many moments before he sighed, lowered his pistol and stepped away. Whitrose's
lip curled and he laughed.

            "I won't hang, you fool! Do you know how
many people I own? I can buy my way out of anything. I'll be..."

            There was a loud crack. Blood spurted from
Whitrose's left eye socket and the back of his head exploded, spraying a mist
of blood, skin, hair and tissue behind him. His face went slack and his body
swayed back and forth for a few moments before he collapsed in a heap of limbs.

            "
Jesus Christ, Alastair!
"
Lucien screamed as he swung around. "You shot him in the bloody eye!"
He threw his arms up as he approached the open door of the coach. He tossed his
pistols on the bench and swore as he kicked one of the wheels. "The bloody
eye!" Lucien looked expectantly at Alastair.

            "The likelihood of surviving such an injury
is infinitesimal. As it was my intention to kill him, the eye was an ideal
point of entry." He was calm as he strode to the coach and set his pistols
down. Gilles laughed as he shrugged out of the great coat and jacket, obviously
anxious to be rid of the chest piece and mail. All traces of the cold fury that
had possessed him moments earlier had vanished. Lucien raked a hand through his
hair and turned back to Alastair.

            "Why did you kill him?" Lucien asked patiently
as he tried to maintain possession of his temper and sanity. Alastair shrugged
and he squatted next to Whitrose.

            "He was confident that he wouldn't hang. I
determined that he must have had good cause to be. As I agreed with him, it was
the next logical action." He pushed Whitrose's shoulder, causing the body
to roll, exposing the gaping back of his skull. Alastair's head tilted to the
side as he squinted into the opening. He looked back at the trees and grass
behind him, studying the mess the bullet had created after it tore through
Whitrose's head. "I wasn't going to allow for the possibility that he
could remain a threat."  He stood and pointed at the foliage. "This
is remarkable. I wonder if this would have been wider if I had been standing
farther away." He was talking more to himself now.

            Exasperated, Lucien turned to Gilles. He was
pulling the chain mail over his head.

            "I'm not complaining." He said as he
tossed it into the coach and breathed a sigh of relief. It was quickly becoming
a rolling arsenal. "I might have liked to have pulled the trigger myself
but what's done is done."

            Lucien was flabbergasted. He was glad that
Gilles was once again his relaxed, humorous self but he couldn't understand why
he didn't see a problem with what Alastair had done. Gilles had never minded
bending the rules or changing them altogether but this was a matter of justice.
Lucien gestured towards Alastair and the carnage around him. Gilles shrugged
again and shook his head nonchalantly.

            "This is why we could never work
together!" He stated as he pinched the bridge of his nose. He pointed at
Alastair, "You make decisions and act on them without consulting
anyone." He turned to Gilles, "You don't give a damn and have no
regard for the law." Alastair's brow furrowed.

            "Whitrose tried to have me killed, he is
responsible for my brother being shot, my sister-in-law being tortured, he
violated my sister's privacy, attempted to kill her and he threatened you. I
was not aware that I needed to consult anyone before I defended my
family." Alastair walked to the coach and climbed in. Gilles laughed as he
slapped Lucien on the back.

"Get in, we shouldn't keep
Mirabelle waiting." He jumped back up on the box and took the reins.
Lucien looked back over the gore before stepping into the coach and slamming
the door behind him.

“We should probably talk to the
magistrate.” Alastair said as he crossed his legs and settled against the
cushions. He unbuttoned his coat and closed his eyes.

“You think?” Lucien asked
incredulously. Alastair opened his eyes, he looked confused.

“I do. I'll write to my superiors at
the War Office. I don't foresee any complications.”

“Brilliant.” Lucien crossed his
arms and shook his head.

“You're still upset. I thought
perhaps it was because I had startled you by shooting Whitrose while he was in
close proximity to you and you were in shock.” Alastair was studying him
closely. Lucien sighed and leaned forward.