Amanda Scott - [Dangerous 02] (47 page)

Alfred and Edythe had already emerged from their carriage, and as footmen assisted Lady Ophelia and Lady St. Merryn from the second one, Antony saw Letty, swathed in her voluminous gray cloak and looking like a small, gray nun, jump down from a third vehicle that appeared otherwise filled with servants. Not for a moment did he suppose that Alfred and the other adults had banished her to that vehicle, but he did not blame her for choosing to ride with a few lively servants rather than three old ladies or Alfred and Edythe Tarrant.

Forty minutes later, inside the cathedral, the organ sounded a single chord, and the congregation turned as one to face the great entry doors. In the hush that fell upon them came three loud knocks. From outside, the bishop’s words sounded clearly:

“Lift up your heads, O ye gates, and be ye lift up ye everlasting doors; and the King of Glory shall come in.”

From their position near the doors, four churchwardens replied, “Who is the King of Glory?” When Bishop Halsey had made the proper response, they opened the doors and presented to him the petition for the consecration, and the keys to the cathedral, saying, “Reverend Father, we pray you to dedicate, consecrate, and bless this church.”

Charley, standing between her husband and Letty in the first row of pews on the left side of the central aisle, watched the bishop’s procession pass through the doors and along the aisle toward the sanctuary. Bishop Halsey carried the tall, decorated staff with which he had knocked upon the doors.

Having taken part in the ritual circuit of the cathedral’s exterior that preceded their approach to the entrance, Wellington followed the bishop, and for once, his attire did full justice to the grandeur of the occasion, because he wore his Garter robes. The sky-blue velvet mantle and crimson velvet surcoat provided splashes of color amidst the black and white raiment of others in the procession. His soft-crowned black hat trimmed with ostrich plumes sat at a jaunty angle, and his gold collar of twenty-six enameled garters coiled around enameled roses, seemed to rest lightly on the ducal shoulders. The Garter itself showed each time he moved his left leg forward. One of the few men in the kingdom ever to hold at the same time both the Orders of the Garter and of Bath, he displayed the latter only in the smaller silver star below the Garter star on his left side.

The procession reached the altar rail, where Bishop Halsey said a prayer of dedication before moving into the sanctuary. The organ sounded again, and the choir and congregation sang a psalm. Then the archdeacon stepped forward. Signing to the congregation to kneel, he sang a portion of the Litany while the bishop, carrying the staff, measured the cathedral from east to west, and from north to south, before tracing a St. Andrew’s Cross on the floor at the entrance to the chancel.

From that point a series of prayers and responses followed, and Charley found it hard to keep her mind on her prayer book. The temptation to gaze about her at the magnificent cathedral was nearly overwhelming, but since she had already hushed Letty twice, she felt obliged to keep her eyes where they belonged.

The child seemed unnaturally fidgety, so she thought it imperative to set a good example. At one point, thinking Letty must be hot in her heavy cloak, Charley asked if she wanted to remove it. She refused, and although her reddening cheeks made it clear that she was overwarm, Charley did not press her to do so.

More prayers and the lesson followed, then another hymn, before the bishop, standing near the altar rail, said, “Oh, worship the Lord in the beauty of holiness.”

The congregation replied, “And let the whole earth stand in awe of Him.”

“Be seated.” Halsey turned expectantly to Wellington, who stood at the end of Charley’s row, on the center aisle.

Letty seemed to make a squeaking sound of distress, but she turned away from Charley as the Duke stepped forward and moved to face the congregation. “My friends,” he said, his voice carrying easily, “I will make no long speeches. This moment, of all moments, belongs to this glorious house of God.”

Charley saw that Elizabeth had been expecting him to speak for some time, for his declaration that he would not brought her head up with a jerk. Seated also in the first row of pews but across the aisle, between Rockland and Alfred, she had sat when everyone else had. Quickly rising again, she stepped forward to stand at the altar rail, separated from the Duke only by the Seraphim Coffer, resting just to the right of the central opening in the railing.

Hearing a muffled cry some rows behind her, Charley turned, ignoring a look of disapproval from Lady Ophelia, who sat at Letty’s other side. A large, heavily veiled woman four rows back, in apparent distress, was trying to make her way to the center aisle. Charley’s first thought was that the poor thing was ill, but as that notion crossed her mind, she became aware of another disturbance nearer at hand. To her shock, Jeremiah’s head popped through the opening in the front of Letty’s heavy cloak. As the disturbance behind them grew louder, the monkey scrambled free of the child’s grasp, leaping to the back of the pew and agilely eluding her frantic attempts to recapture him.

Wellington, cool and collected as always, ignored both interruptions and said calmly, “I shall now present this coffer of sacred vessels …”

The veiled figure had reached the aisle, and was striding forward.

“… as a gift from the British nation …”

Jeremiah ran to the end of the pew.

“… to be dedicated to this glorious cathedral.”

The monkey leapt at the veiled woman, snatching at her hat and veil, as Wellington said, “Miss Tarrant, if you will kindly open—”

“No!”

The striding figure broke into an awkward run just as Jeremiah streaked off down the aisle with a hat, a veil, and a wig.

Pandemonium erupted amongst those in the congregation who saw what the monkey had done, and Charley saw that the
woman
was none other than James Gabriel. As he hoisted his skirts and charged toward the altar rail, she turned in terror to Antony.

He had already seen, and with a hand on the pew rail, he swung first one leg then the other over, his gaze catching hers. “Watch Letty,” he ordered. Then, turning, he dashed toward the Duke, more than a dozen feet away.

Charley looked at Elizabeth and saw that she had knelt in front of the Seraphim Coffer, her attention so firmly riveted to her own important task that she was deaf to all the commotion.

In the blink of an eye, pieces of the puzzle clicked into place in Charley’s mind. Unable to climb over the pew rail as Antony had done, she shrieked Elizabeth’s name as Antony grabbed Wellington and shoved him to the ground in a whirl of crimson and blue velvet, covering the Duke’s body with his own.

Although Elizabeth must have heard Charley shriek, she had already unlocked the coffer, released both latches, and was opening the lid, oblivious of Gabriel racing toward her. Grabbing Letty, Charley forced her to the floor, protecting the child’s squirming body with her own. Lady Ophelia dropped down beside them just before the explosion.

Antony saw Gabriel seize Elizabeth by the shoulders, fling her aside, and throw himself atop the coffer as it exploded. The blast, though muffled by his large body, was still sufficient to shake the altar and send two acolytes tumbling. Pieces of the wood chest shot out from the blast, but when the cacophony of screams and shouting died away, the few injuries proved to be minor. The sole person killed in the explosion was the proud man who had risen from clockmaker’s son to be mayor of his town.

The stunned bishop was far enough away not to have been knocked over, but he had grabbed a column to steady himself. Straightening, he gazed uncertainly out over the congregation, but it was Wellington, scrambling to his feet the moment Antony rolled off him, who took command. No stranger to pandemonium accompanied by gore, the Duke began at once to issue orders, and no one questioned them.

“Archdeacon, cast your vestment over that poor devil’s remains,” he bellowed. “Churchwardens, see to the injured at once. My friends,” he added when people realized he was speaking and began to quiet down, “I pray you, remain peaceful and do not further disgrace this house of God. You may be sure,” he went on in the same powerful voice that had once carried his commands across fields of battle, “that it was the Lord Himself who protected us from harm this day. You will go forth from here in the knowledge that His house is truly blessed.”

When the bishop murmured anxiously that the consecration was not complete, the Duke said firmly, “Then I would suggest that you make a decision as to what you want to do, Bishop. Your choices are clear. You can continue now.”

“Surely not, my lord duke,” Halsey squeaked. “Not with the body and blood of Mayor Gabriel spattering our altar.”

“Your minions can remove Gabriel’s corpse to the vestry,” the Duke said practically, “and a damp rag will soon remove the bits most likely to offend. However, if you choose not to continue at present, you have only to announce to the congregation just when you do mean to do so. Next Sunday, I should imagine, though I daresay you won’t get as large a crowd then as you have today. It will have become something of an anticlimax by then, don’t you think? My advice is to get on with it now but to do the thing with dispatch. Surely, there are bits of the ceremony that you can leave out.”

As realization spread through the congregation that the danger was past, fear turned to curiosity. Heads strained and twisted to see what was happening at the altar rail. Bishop Halsey, with a glance at the assembly and another at Wellington, moved to confer with the dean and the archdeacon.

Wellington turned to Antony, who was feeling extremely grim, and said, “I collect that you never anticipated this gambit, my friend.”

“I never suspected him,” Antony admitted, forcing himself to meet that stern gaze. “He kept the Seraphim Coffer at his house to refurbish it. I recall now that he said he would deliver it here on Wednesday but then kept it till Friday, when he must have installed his explosive device. As a clockmaker’s son, though he often deprecated his skill, he must have learned enough of his father’s art to prepare his mechanism. He tricked me well, Your Grace. When it counted most, I failed you.”

Wellington shook his head. “When it counted most, Tony, you offered your life for mine. I won’t forget that, or allow you to do so.”

Antony grimaced. “In truth, sir, had he not created such a row, I’d have never known what was about to happen, and in fact, I still don’t know why, at the last minute, he changed his mind and threw himself over the chest.”

“I do,” Charley said, putting her hand on Antony’s arm and giving it a squeeze. “He cared deeply for Elizabeth. Seeing her so near the coffer shocked him into acting.”

Antony had not seen her come forward. The stunning discovery that Gabriel had not been the man he seemed to be, combined with the urgent need to protect Wellington and the shock of the explosion, had put all thought of Charley and Letty out of his mind. He looked at her now in guilty dismay of this second failure, but she smiled.

“I have told you and told you,” she murmured for his ears alone. “You can trust me to take care of myself, and to take care of Letty.”

“Where is she?”

“Jeremiah fled to the organ loft with his treasures,” she replied in a normal tone. “She is trying to coax him down again.”

The Duke, who had been reassuring Harry Livingston that he was quite unharmed, turned then and said, “I could not help overhearing you say that Mayor Gabriel was in love with Miss Elizabeth Tarrant, my lady. I quite thought Tony said earlier that she is betrothed to Lord Rockland.”

“I did,” Antony said.

Charley said, “Mr. Gabriel did not know about the betrothal, however. Nor could he have known that she would be taking my part in the ceremony today, for we arranged that only this morning in Fowey. I daresay seeing her gave him quite a shock, but it is unnerving to think he would not have leapt forward to save me.”

Antony said, “He did impress upon you that once you had unlocked the coffer, you were to stand well back and let His Grace open it to present the vessels. You even questioned him, saying he had previously told you to unlock it and also to open it.”

“Yes, and then I told Elizabeth to ask the archdeacon what she should do, and most likely he said to open it. Though Gabriel said it was the bishop’s suggestion that I let His Grace open the box, he knew it was no such thing, and just seeing her step forward was enough to terrify him. For that we must all be grateful, but why did he come here at all? He was to have gone to Launceston with the prisoners.”

Antony shrugged. “I expect he couldn’t bear not to see his handiwork. That is not unusual in such a case, but after all his work, people would have expected him to stand right up front with the other dignitaries, and he would not have wanted to be so near. Therefore, if he was to be here, he had to have a disguise. I daresay he simply took advantage of the arrests last night to provide himself with an acceptable excuse.”

Remembering that it had been Gabriel who had revealed the previous night’s plot, and who had continued to say the villains meant to capture the Duke, Charley said, “It is even possible, I suppose, that he somehow manipulated last night’s events to provide himself with that excuse. But why on earth would Gabriel want to kill His Grace?”

Wellington smiled ruefully, saying, “It is not the first time I have been a target, ma’am, nor, I daresay, will it be the last. My would-be assassins do not always have reasons that we ordinary mortals can comprehend.”

Letty’s voice echoed through the silence that followed. “Jeremiah, come down at once. We are in enough trouble without you causing more.”

Charley exchanged a look with Antony, who turned purposefully toward the organ loft before Wellington stopped him with a touch. “My watch, I believe, Tony.” He went to Letty’s side, held out his hand, and said imperatively, “Come down at once, sir.”

To everyone’s astonishment, Jeremiah descended with wig and veil still clutched in his paws. The hat had vanished. He jumped to the Duke’s arm, then to his shoulder.