Unmasked by her Lover, page 24
He drew it clear and stepped back. Barden stared at him, then at his wound, and sank to his knees beside his discarded coat. A red stain blossomed and grew against the whiteness of his shirt. Harry drew back his sword for the coup de grace, but Barden flung up both hands.
“That is it,” Martha said firmly. “Meg, come. Ladies.”
Reluctantly, Meg rose, along with her friends, daring to breathe again. She took her sister’s hand and followed her along the dark path toward the lights of the house. Hazel, Juliet, and Deb followed behind.
“At least we saw it,” Juliet said with a tone of anti-climax. “I just wish—”
And then, before they were even clear of the wood, a shot rang out, and they froze.
Meg let out a moaning, keening cry, dragged herself free of Martha’s clinging hand, and bolted back the way they had come.
*
“I surrender,” Barden babbled. “I surrender to you. Let me live, and I’ll give you names that will make us both heroes!”
Harry blinked and then laughed. “The names Captain Garrow gave you of men who would free Bonaparte?”
In the lantern light, Barden’s pupils dilated further. “You know about that? Then take the proof, take it. Here, it’s in my coat.”
Harry lowered his sword, watching as Barden reached for the coat beside him and delved inside it. He came out with a folded paper, which he thrust toward Harry with a shaky hand. Around him, the cheerful wagering and commentary on the fight had died away to uncomfortable shuffling.
Harry took it, unfolded it briefly to see that it was what Barden had claimed, then held it out toward Halland. “Someone should run with this to Aline at the coach house. If we’re too late to catch her, then you or Sayle—”
“Harry, the gun!” Robert called urgently, and Harry’s gaze snapped back to the barrel of the pistol held in Barden’s hand.
He must have had it in his coat all the time.
“Gun, fire!” roared Stewart, inexplicably. But for some reason, his dog shot across the space between them and crashed into Barden’s back, knocking him forward onto his stomach. The gun went off in a deafening report, and Harry lunged forward to Barden.
Stewart seized the dog, feeling it all over urgently for injury, though it only licked his hands and wagged its tail.
It was Barden who was dead. There was no pulse under Harry’s questing fingers.
“The pistol must have gone off when he fell,” Harry said slowly. “Fired straight through his heart by the look of it.” He lifted his gaze to the dog, “Gun, I believe you saved my life.” He held out his hand to Stewart. “Thank you.”
Stewart gripped it with a rueful grin.
And then a figure crashed through the trees and into the light.
“Harry! Harry!” Meg cried dementedly.
At once, Harry stepped forward to meet her, and she hurled herself into his arms, clutching him as though she would never let him go.
“What is it?” he demanded. “What happened?” Dear God, what had he not thought of? What had hurt her, or Martha or someone else…?
“I thought he’d shot you!” Meg sobbed. “I thought you were dead!”
The wonder of her love washed over him like a tide. He held her, resting his cheek on the top of her head until he felt the mask’s string bite into his skin.
“You’re still masked,” he said on a breath of laughter and pulled the end of the knot.
She made a grab for the mask as she looked up, but it fluttered to the ground, and he took the opportunity to cover her mouth with his and kiss her thoroughly.
Chapter Twenty-Four
“They’re betrothed,” Johnny said dryly to the interested spectators. “Now, before we go back, this is what happened. I challenged Barden over his seedy intentions toward Mrs. Garrow.” He scowled at Martha, who had just come forward with the three ladies-in-waiting. They appeared all to be about to sag with relief, despite the reactions of their husbands.
“Er—where is Mrs. Garrow?” Johnny demanded. “Is she really in the coach house?”
“She went there,” Harry said vaguely. “I think she and her husband had to leave suddenly.”
“Then I’ll just catch her up. Where’s that list? Anyway,” Johnny called over his shoulder, stuffing the paper in his pocket. “We fought with swords to avoid fatal injury, but as you see, Barden had a gun which went off accidentally when the dog objected. All clear?”
Even Mr. Knowles was nodding blindly. “Unpleasant man. Quite evil.”
“Quite,” Halland agreed.
“Come on, everyone,” Calvert said severely. “Masks back on. It’s time for supper and the unmasking.”
It might have been hysteria, but a giggle escaped Meg and, as her eyes met Harry’s, she knew the incongruous jumping from fighting and death, to supper and unmasking had tickled him, too. In fact, it seemed to spread among the other women.
“Shouldn’t you send for constables or magistrates or something?” Robert asked Calvert.
“I shall, “Calvert assured him. “And send a man to stay with the body until it’s removed.”
Meg wondered if she should feel more subdued, but in truth, the death of Barden did not trouble her, and her relief at finding Harry unharmed overwhelmed everything else.
The young men who had been chosen as witnesses collected all their glasses and bottles. Apart from one lantern left beside the body, the others were collected to light the way back to the house.
Harry’s ear had bled over his shirt, but his coat covered the fact. It seemed to have stopped bleeding, so once he was masked and dominoed once more, he looked more or less respectable. Meg’s domino, which had protected her from the cold and her gown from dirt and tears, was in less good condition, so she wore it folded and ruched together over one shoulder. So did some of the other ladies.
“It’s time for the unmasking anyway,” Martha declared, discarding her cloak and mask all together on the terrace. She and Meg solemnly reattached loose pins in each other’s hair, and then, along with Calvert and Harry, they climbed the terrace steps behind their guests and reentered the ballroom just as the slightly thin supper dance was coming to a close.
Calvert dragged two footmen aside and issued orders that made their eyes widen and their mouths drop. They scattered in different directions as Martha swept to the center of the ballroom.
“My lords, ladies, and gentlemen of mystery!” she cried gaily as the music ended. “It is midnight, and time to reveal yourselves!”
Meg and Harry stood together and removed their masks. They looked at each other and smiled, but as the exclamations of surprise and laughter echoed around them, they had no words. Just for now, there was nothing left to say.
Harry offered her his arm. “Supper, Lady Meg?”
“Thank you, Lord Harry.” They walked together up to the supper room, and were very soon joined by the other ladies-in-waiting and their husbands.
“I must admit,” Juliet observed, “when we parted less than three weeks ago, I did not envisage quite such a dramatic ending to our troubles!”
“What will you do now?” Meg asked.
“We’re going on our wedding trip,” Juliet replied, “before Dan wrestles his grandfather’s land at Myerly into shape.”
“We’re traveling, too, before we settle in Vienna for a few months,” Hazel said, smiling at Sir Joseph.
“We keep being distracted from our travels,” Deb said. “But tomorrow, we are finally heading for Dover and a ship to France. What of you, Meg?”
“I shall follow you,” she said. “Just as soon as we are married. Why don’t we arrange to meet in Vienna on the last day of October? Even if just for one day.”
“Why not?” Juliet agreed eagerly.
From nowhere, Johnny loomed in between Meg and Harry.
“Garrow’s dead,” he breathed, causing Meg’s breath to hitch.
“How?” Harry asked.
“Knife between the ribs,” Johnny said bluntly. “Aline has sent him off in his coach with an escort of burly gents. Another is with her and the child.”
Perhaps one of those burly gents had killed Garrow. Perhaps.
“She is magnificent,” Johnny said as though he had had the same thought.
“And dangerous,” Harry warned. “Don’t get burned, my friend.”
Johnny merely grinned and sauntered off.
When supper ended, Meg and Harry joined together for the waltz. Neither had asked or suggested it. It just seemed to happen.
“I don’t feel as if this has been a night of violence and death,” Meg observed. “In fact, I am ridiculously happy.”
“I think we are allowed to be. We righted multiple wrongs, took at least two traitors out of action, and prevented a plot to free Bonaparte from Elba. I’m sure there will be others. And in fact, he can probably just walk free if he feels like it, for whatever they say, he is not secure in Elba. It is far too close to France.” His lips quirked. “But that is for another day. Will you marry me, Meg Winter?”
She smiled. “As soon as you like, Harry de Vere.”
Epilogue
Four years later…
On the last day of October 1818, the fourth reunion since the one in Vienna, took place in the Hallands’ house in London.
Since it was a fine day, Meg and Harry walked from Lord Staunton’s house, each carrying a baby girl while the boys skipped between them.
The boys, who remembered some of last year’s reunion, were very eager to get there. “Will Gun be there?” they kept asking.
The previous year they had met at Myerly, where the Stewarts had made them very welcome, but it was Gun who had made the biggest impression on the children.
They had their answer almost as soon as they arrived. Even as they handed their outerwear to a footman, a small girl and a huge dog spilled down the stairs laughing. Delighted, the dog hurled itself at Henry, knocking him to the ground, and Malcolm fell on him in great delight.
The little girl, pretty as a picture, smiled from them to the adults. “Lord and Lady Harry,” she pronounced.
“We are indeed,” Meg said gravely to Juliet’s daughter. “How do you do, Miss Kate?”
“Geoffrey and Arthur are playing soldiers,” she confided. “But Gun and I wanted to bring you upstairs. Are these your babies? Do they look exactly the same, too?”
“Actually,” Harry confided, plucking one son up by the waist and pointing him at the stairs, “I think most babies look much the same.”
“Your babies are smaller than Lady Sayle’s.”
Deborah Halland appeared at the top of the stairs then. “Oh, how wonderful, you have come! I wondered if it would be too much when your lying-in was so recent.”
In four years, Deb had developed in confidence and natural charm that few had seen during her lady-in-waiting days. Now she was a beautiful young matron and famed political hostess, with a daughter the boys’ age and another child on the way.
“It takes more than giving birth to twins to hold Meg down,” Harry said dryly.
“Yes, but two sets of twins,” Deb marveled. “What are the odds?”
“I think I got Martha’s set, too,” Meg said. “She insists on giving birth singly.”
Deb laughed. “How many children does she have?”
“Two boys, but she is hoping for a daughter.”
Since the dog had leapt past them upstairs, pursued by all three children, the drawing room erupted in chaos as they entered. Gun attached himself by the teeth to Geoffrey Sayle’s wooden sword, which caused great hilarity, as Arthur Halland tried to get the dog to bite his, too.
Kate and the twins circled the whole, laughing uproariously while the adults in the room backed as one to the far corner to embrace each other and admire Meg and Harry’s baby girls, sleeping contentedly through the racket. Hazel and Joe’s second son sat on the floor, grinning at everyone while chewing a crust.
“I hear you will soon become Colonel de Vere,” Joe said, smiling and offering his hand.
Harry grinned. After the carnage of Waterloo, he had been given the rank of major in his old regiment, but this was a new and wonderful opportunity. “The best part is, it comes with a house at the barracks, so we’ll finally have a place to call our own. And where Meg can stay comfortably if we’re sent abroad somewhere she can’t accompany me.”
“Although I mean to go wherever I can,” Meg put in.
“It can’t be easy with four small children,” Christopher remarked.
“No, but it is fun,” Meg said, and Harry laughed, laying his daughter down beside Alastair, who regarded her with good-natured curiosity. “What about you, Joe? Are you home for a while?”
“No, we’re off to Constantinople next month.”
“And will you all go?” Juliet asked.
Hazel nodded, smiling. “Joe told me so much about the Ottoman Empire. I’ve been desperate to see it. How does your school thrive, Chris?”
The Hallands had founded a charitable school on their land, which had attracted some attention. As had his parliamentary career, since he was now a junior minister.
“It’s doing well,” Chris replied, “We’ve expanded somewhat. And I’m very glad to say that the first pupils we had now have good employment. But I won’t say we’re changing the world, just a few individual lives.”
“Is that not how it begins?” Meg asked.
“I think so,” Deb agreed. “But Chris always wants things to happen immediately!”
Chris smiled. “It’s true, I do. But I am content to keep trying and valuing what I have.”
The children had quietened down a little, with Gun now lying on his back, legs wide and tongue hanging out while the children tickled his tummy.
“How is Myerly?” Harry asked Dan.
“We’ve had a good year,” Dan said happily. “It all seems to be coming together at last. Even my father-in-law is interested in what we’re doing.”
“Oh, and Gun has clearly fathered another set of mongrel puppies,” Juliet confided, “in my father’s kennels. He is not so happy—or interested—in that!”
They all laughed and watched the children playing while Christopher poured wine for everyone.
“We met Mrs. Garrow in Paris,” Hazel confided. “She pretended not to know us when we were introduced, but she winked when she passed us after dinner.”
“That sounds like Aline.” Harry grinned. “Who was she?”
“The princess of some obscure country in eastern Europe,” Joe replied. “But the funny thing is, I think it might be true, for I ran into her husband the day after—a very handsome, cunning gentleman who might well be a match for her.”
“Johnny will be devastated,” Meg said ruefully. “He claims she has ruined him for other women.”
“Do you believe him?” Juliet asked.
“No. I think he still has to meet the right other woman.” Meg accepted her glass of wine and smiled. “Isn’t it funny how lucky we have all been after that awful night at the princess’s house?”
“It wasn’t all luck,” Chris said. “We took what we had and made it work.”
“We did,” Meg agreed.
“But you are found out, my lady,” Juliet said, pushing a familiar book across the sofa to her. “We know you are the author, and it’s hilarious. Please tell me you are writing another!”
Meg blushed. “I already have,” she confessed. “The second will be published next month.”
“I’ve no idea where you find the time,” Deb observed.
“Meg always finds a way,” Harry said with pride that still melted her.
In this company, Meg didn’t mind resting her cheek on his arm, watching the children and the dog, and enjoying everything around her.
Abruptly, she straightened. “I wonder how we will behave when our children create scandals?”
“Don’t!” everyone else commanded at once, so forcefully that Gun sprang up and barked, and all dissolved into laughter.
About Mary Lancaster
Mary Lancaster lives in Scotland with her husband, three mostly grown-up kids and a small, crazy dog.
Her first literary love was historical fiction, a genre which she relishes mixing up with romance and adventure in her own writing. Her most recent books are light, fun Regency romances written for Dragonblade Publishing: The Imperial Season series set at the Congress of Vienna; and the popular Blackhaven Brides series, which is set in a fashionable English spa town frequented by the great and the bad of Regency society.
Connect with Mary on-line – she loves to hear from readers:
Email Mary:
Mary@MaryLancaster.com
Website:
www.MaryLancaster.com
Newsletter sign-up:
http://eepurl.com/b4Xoif
Facebook:
facebook.com/mary.lancaster.1656
Facebook Author Page:
facebook.com/MaryLancasterNovelist
Twitter:
@MaryLancNovels
Amazon Author Page:
amazon.com/Mary-Lancaster/e/B00DJ5IACI
Bookbub:
bookbub.com/profile/mary-lancaster
Lancaster, Mary, Unmasked by her Lover
