Darkest Death, page 15
part #2 of Darkest Series
“Sarah? Are you okay?”
That Hermione said that instead of the myriad of things she could have rightly said about her treatment of her over it, brought tears to her eyes. It would make her the happiest woman in the world to be her sister by marriage, and now, she didn’t know if that were possible.
She rapidly blinked the salty betrayers back. They would not be allowed to show her upset. Then he might find out, and she refused to open herself up like that. She had to protect herself, but it was too much.
“Hermione,” Lady Lillian said. “You have always had our support. And that will never change.”
Lady Sarah smiled. “Always. I do believe your brother and I came up with quite the cover story for you. Now it’s up to you to make the best of your life, and as Lillian said, you have our support. I love both of you.”
“And we love you,” Lady Lillian said. “Now, enough of the maudlin. What do you think Lord Archer stayed behind for?”
“Yeah, curious how he suddenly decided on that,” Lady Sarah agreed. “Though, what’s also curious is how quiet you’ve been, Duchess.” She raised her brow at her friend, happy to have a distraction.
Her friend snuggled down into the duke, who brought his arms around her. “I know. It’s everything. I feel so happy, yet I’m sad my parents never came to my wedding. I’m full of conflicting emotions. They’re starting to work themselves out, especially the more I see of my father. Still, always thought my mum would be there if I did decide to get married. It hurts. I’ve lost my parents, but I haven’t, not like you have, Sarah. Also, my brother, I’m afraid he’s going to do something stupid. I know him. The fact he was nearly killed would humiliate him, make him angrier. Blame others.”
“Specifically?” Hermione asked, a strange note in her tone to Lady Sarah’s ears.
“He never took defeat well, you know that. As happy as I am, that little bit of fear is around the corner, like he is waiting to hurt me, take away my happiness. He has a long habit of doing just that. Clarence is being wonderful with my bouts of anxiety, but I can’t help it.”
“I’m afraid things are worse now, with Jarvis’ death,” the duke said. “Robert used to have what I’ll call a handler. Jarvis ruled Robert with promises of recognition, with approval for his bad side, the uncouth side, permission to act on it, but within boundaries. Now, he’s like a wild boar who is hurt and hungry. We cannot even guess what he’ll do next.”
“So, you’re saying we can’t dismiss Lady Lillian’s fears as unfounded in current affairs and based on her traumatic past experience?” Hermione squeaked.
Lady Sarah already knew that. Robert always struck her as mean and cruel. She’d hoped being with the duke would be enough protection for her friend, but The Dark Duke was right. Without someone controlling his strings, Robert would hurt people, and he’d likely start with Lady Lillian. Or, a bad thought hit her.—maybe he’d start with her friends, her protectors.
“No, and I wish I could assure her that it was over so we could properly start healing, the both of us,” the duke said.
“Your Grace, what if,” Lady Sarah began, “what if he decided to start with her friends, those of us who’ve protected her from him most of her life?”
He pursed his lips, and even in the low light of the lantern hung near him, the concern in his eyes shone through. “Yes, that is likely. For a coward like him, he’d pick you off one by one and likely sneak attacks, using a pistol as it gives him more power.”
“I don’t like it,” she whispered.
“Nor do I,” Lady Lillian said just as the carriage slowed to a stop.
***
Lady Sarah made an excuse to go with a maid to the rooms being made up for her. Antsy, she paced while the maid turned the bed down and brought a wrap and laid it on the downturned bed. All this waiting, all the talking, it bothered her. She wanted action. Needed to do something definitive to make it end, make the evil, treacherous men and women pay.
It had definitely helped. Lady Lillian looked much happier than she had since the trip to Scotland. Hermione, though, she had been acting different, and Sarah needed to figure it out as soon as they didn’t have a crazy Lamberth after them.
Then she stopped abruptly.
Archie.
Robert was at the soiree. He’d come toward Lillian and she, the dowager, and Hermione had given him the cut direct.
But they’d all left together. All except her Lord Archie. Her stomach clenched, and pain struck her so hard, her hands clasped against her midsection as if attempting to hold it all back. Even if he’d only pretended to love her as a means to an end, she loved him with all of her being.
She tried to stop the emotional waterfall into fear and worst case scenario. Maybe he was back and already talking to the others, waiting for her. With a spurt of hope, she flew downstairs, her hand sliding down the oak banister as she held her dress up with the other. Out of breath, she burst into the study. “Is he here yet?”
“No,” Hermione said.
She took in some breaths. “How long until we go try to find him?”
Clarence stood up from behind his large desk. “Why?”
She started to rail at him, but then she realized he wasn’t questioning her in a derogative manner, but in a worried one. So, with a valiant effort, she worked to stop being reactive. Damn hard with Lord Archie involved. “Because, all that talk of Robert had me thinking about how we’d all left in groups. The dowager left with people. We left together. The only person alone is—”
“Your Lord Archer.” He snapped his fingers, and George came out of the woodwork, almost as if he had been standing as part of the wall before now. It surprised her, but she just listened.
“We will need the special carriage. Have it readied immediately. Also, my pistols, make sure we have them. In case we need more shots.”
“Of course, Your Grace. Immediately. Jacob to drive tonight?”
“Yes, he would be good man to have ready in this. Make sure he is armed. Hurry.”
“Um, excuse my impertinence because I’m truly grateful you are listening when a lot of men would be accusing me of hysteria and overreacting, but you have a special carriage? I mean, the kind where needing pistols goes hand in hand?”
Lady Lillian laughed. “It is where we shared our first kiss. Come along, Countess. You’re about to learn the rest of the story of our courtship.”
“Your first kiss? Well, Duchess, seems you do have some tales to tell your best friends. Oh, wait. Hermione, you cannot go in your condition.” Lady Sarah crossed her arms, waiting for an argument.
Hermione set her jaw mutinously, but her palm circled on her stomach for a moment. “No, you’re right. This isn’t like defying society to show up for a dance. Be safe.”
In short order, after The Dark Duke had people set up guarding the home and sending more to the Dowager Duchesses home as well, they set off. She hoped to find that she had acted too soon, but something in her soul had gone dark, as if a connection had been lost.
Where are you, Archie?
Chapter Eighteen
Lord Downing
Lord Downing worked the room again, growing impatient. It amused him to speak with Lord Archer’s parents. How lovely to have them be his alibi. After a few minutes with them, he stopped and talked to the biggest gossip, Lady Eufemia and gave the impression he was headed to the elegant cardroom for whisky and a cheroot. He flattered her especially so she would remember him well.
However, underneath his practiced smile and smooth flirtations, the impatience flipped to anger. Finally, he excused himself, amused at her flirtatious use of the fan. The chit was not only ugly, but he needed one worthy of being a queen. One full of class and social graces. But most of all, one who could keep their mouth shut.
He took pains to keep the anger and impatience off his face. Decades of practice came to his rescue. Had Lord Archer slipped away once again? He’d taken a risk with Lord Robert since he had helped Jarvis with some of the dirty work in recent years. But he’d second guessed it ever since Lord Robert had showed up. Seeing his sister a duchess had apparently been too much for the jack off.
He eased around finely dressed men and women until he could go out the door he’d instructed Lord Robert to use. With one last look to make sure no one watched him, he slipped into the welcoming darkness. Once outside, he breathed easier. The night called to him. Then he heard footsteps. He peered down the thin alley walkway and recognized Lord Archer walking off.
“Not again,” he said quietly, searching for something, anything, to hit the rather annoying viscount with. He found what looked like a chamber pot dropped. With distaste, he snagged it in his gloved hands and snuck up behind Lord Archer. His foot hit a loose rock at the last second, alerting his prey.
He still managed to connect hard enough to daze him, though the wily agent kept trying to fight him. He hit him again, and this time, Lord Archer crumpled like an accordion. As he fell, something metallic clunked on the ground. He picked it up. As recognition of who the gun belonged to hit him, a plan formed. Only a few people would recognize the gun, and they were either there in the alley or unlikely to see it up close, even if they held a trial.
As he rapidly formulated things in his mind, he heard groaning and turned. Lord Robert pushed up off the ground and stumbled toward Lord Downing. He curled his lip at the alcoholic smell coming from him. No wonder he had failed at his given mission. Anger pulsed in his forehead and sparked another idea.
“Quite. I came out here in time to stop Lord Archer from kicking you,” he said.
Lord Robert stumbled over to Lord Archer and kicked him a few times, rebalancing after every kick. After three kicks, which probably wouldn’t have hurt a wee lamb, he stumbled to the side. “Thank you, Lord Downing. I owe you one. He got the drop on me.”
“And I on him. Did he tell you anything?”
“No,” Lord Robert replied sullenly.
“I see. Did you manage to accomplish any of the orders I gave you before the soiree started?” A quiet peace settled over him as the brash young man moved to just the right position by his calculations. He held the gun down at his side, ready to fire.
“I started rumors about The Dark Duke after revenge and Lord Archer being a traitor. But most people wouldn’t listen to me. One even laughed in my face.”
“Stop your sniveling. You were on a mission. I hope you didn’t do anything you shouldn’t.” God, the whiney little shit. How had Lord Jarvis put up with it? No wonder Lady Lillian did not like her prattling brother. She was tougher than him. She must have inherited more of the royal toughness needed. He really hoped Lord Robert had done all he asked. “Was there anything else?”
“I told everyone that I heard Lord Archer threatening people, being erratic. I tried to harass my sister and her friends like you asked, but they gave me the cut direct.”
Lord Downing allowed a smile to ghost across his face. Perfect. Lord Robert sealed his fate with that last. Lord Downing lifted his arm and aimed and then fired. The eyes widened as Lord Robert’s hands clutched the wound.
“How?” The gurgling became more pronounced. “How could you…”
“Your sister is twice the man you will ever have the nerve to admit to being. As are her friends, you good for nothing, cowardly cur.” He watched until Lord Robert couldn’t speak any longer and stretched an arm out as if supplicating him to take it. A deep thrill slithered its way through him. He would never take it back. God, yes.
He allowed himself the moment to feel the contentment killing someone gave him, then put his plan into motion. Being careful not to get blood on any part of him, he arranged Lord Robert just slightly different and set the gun by Lord Archer’s fingers. With one final look around to make sure no witnesses lurked, he slipped back into the ballroom, waiting for their discovery. If it didn’t happen soon, he’d make a point of being worried about Lord Archer and pretend they were to play cards. Or something. He wanted to see the look on his face when he was accused of murder. And he would make damn sure it happened. He just wished he could kill the young nobleman off and get rid of his competition. But first, he needed to learn what all he knew and who he’d told. And most importantly, if he’d touched Lady Sarah inappropriately.
If he found Lord Archer guilty of such a travesty against his person, he would personally torture him. And he would have to kill Lady Sarah as well for her part in humiliating him when she should have been saving herself for him. For no one touched what was his.
The idea of torturing Lord Archer gave him such pleasure, he considered doing it anyway simply because it would give him such satisfaction. Alas, he needed to stay the course. He would need a fall guy for the leak in the agency. One which didn’t include the higher up he had under his thumb, for he still proved useful.
So many loose ends now. Jarvis had mucked things up proper getting caught by the Duke of Canterbury. Lady Amber’s portrayal had only been a small stretch of what Canterbury was capable of when angered. And tenacious. No one could match the duke for that, except himself, of course. However, Jarvis gone, Robert gone, that still left the matter of who to kill the queen. Baron Hastings had better have the replacement they needed for shooting the queen. Too much had happened to thwart his mission. Perhaps he should look into hiring a mercenary assassin.
And he needed to reconsider keeping the baron on his advisory council. The man had become entirely too disrespectful. Such mayhem amongst the ranks. He would not allow such incompetency under his rule. He would insist on only the most noble, most intelligent, and most capable people in his court.
Pictures of Lady Sarah’s smile flashed through his mind. And beautiful. They would need to be beautiful as well. Especially his wife. If he needed to mount her for his heirs since Lady Amber was no longer available. Soon, this would all be over. He would have a court to rival Queen Elizabeth’s.
He’d be the king.
King Henry the Ninth had a good sound to it. He laughed and laughed at his own deviousness. He’d bear his children on Lady Sarah, keep the line strong, then do the same on Alexandria’s child. One day, they would say all royal houses descended from him.
He would be the one they wanted to emulate, to bribe, to plead with to marry his children to them. Then he thought of all the territories, how Victoria was called empress by some, and he scowled. No, not king. And not territories. He’d bring them inline or force them to submit. He would show England how a proper king rules and takes over lands. Bring the colonies back under British control, plunge their resources.
He would be the emperor of the known world.
Chapter Nineteen
Lord Archer
Lord Archer’s first thought upon awakening came as more of an inner scream of pain and nerve endings yelling to stop moving. He groaned and laid back flat on his stomach. His hands, abraded across the bricks, moved, but couldn’t seem to grip or close in any way.
He tried to roll over and assess the situation, but his limbs refused their orders. “Fine,” he mumbled. “But we are laying right here, no matter how cold, until the rest of you figure out how to properly work again.”
While unable to effectively move, he tried to piece together what had happened. He’d had Robert brandishing a weapon around the way some might a hat or fan, saying things, doing weird things. He’d fought, taken the gun away, and knocked Robert to the ground. Lord Archer frowned, even with his eyes closed.
Then the sound of a footsteps rapidly coming down the alley caused him to hold very still.
“Archie!” Lady Sarah’s voice, frantic, called to him.
He had to answer her. “Here,” he tried to say, but his voice cracked. “Here,” he said louder and tried to get up. Agonizing pain seared his head and neck as he moved, and he dropped again. His stomach rolled with nausea. “Sarah,” he whispered, embarrassment and gratefulness finding its way to the forefront of his thoughts. How was it that the job he wanted to be the most suave, the most competent on, he kept having out of character lapses? Like lying on cobblestones in an alley way, trying to piece together the evening.
Had Robert really tried to kidnap him? Or was he supposed to be dead now? And who had hit him?
“Robert.” Lady Lillian’s voice sent adrenaline through him, giving the needed energy to make it to his knees and open his eyes. Sarah knelt next to him, touching his face and head. “You’re bleeding!” she exclaimed at the same time he bit back a moan.
“Robert will not bleed again.” That monotone. He hated hearing that monotone. Robert and she had had a love hate relationship, mostly hate on Robert’s part. Lady Lillian was really too good for that family. He’d always thought so. Then his brain cells scattered when Sarah kissed him softly. “You need to come home now. Get better.”
The duke strolled up then. “Sorry, had to make sure the driver had a safe place to wait for us when… “Is he dead,” the duke asked.
“Yes,” Lady Lillian answered.
“Did you kill him?” Those laser blue eyes whipped right through him, making him wish he could give a firm no.
“I-I don’t think so.”
The duke let curses fly. “We need out of here. Right now. Move it. Sarah, help me get Lord Archer. Lady Lillian, put your brother’s gun next to him. Move,” he whispered urgently. “This has the earmarks of a set up.”
The movement had him letting out an involuntary, low cry as pain shot out from a point on the back of his head and slammed through the rest of him. But, with the help of the duke, he managed to make it upright and stumble unevenly in the direction they guided him.
