A Dangerous Man (42 page)

"What are you saying?"

No matter how they proceeded from here, someone would
get hurt. Richard sighed. "Until you gain control over your
life and have settled matters with Julia, I believe the child
should remain here with us ""

"I do not know what to do," Pierce groaned. He rubbed his
hands over his face, then looked at Richard through eyes as
empty and desolate as the windswept moors. "At least let me
see him, Richard. I don't even know what he looks like."

Leah clutched her cloak against her neck as she trudged
along the twisting garden path. Rachel followed a few paces
behind. Whenever Leah paused for breath, Rachel pushed the
pistol's sharp point into her back to urge her along.

They passed beneath a stone arch covered with honeysuckle, which would bloom in the spring but stood now stark
and bare beneath the winter sky. The heavy drizzle soaked
through her hood and drenched her hair. Her skin grew numb
as the wind slid up the gaping fabric at her wrists and shivered over her damp skin. If only her thoughts would grow as
numb, but she could not let fear control her mind or she
would have no hope of escape.

She leaned her hands against her knees and dragged in a
heaving breath. "Rachel, I need to rest"

"Keep moving." Her voice was a soft purr, but the metal
pressed against Leah's spine was hard.

The ease with which Rachel had abducted her from the
house astounded Leah. As if they were two friends heading for an afternoon stroll through the gardens, Rachel had
looped her arm through Leah's, pressed her muff, with pistol
hidden inside, up against Leah's belly, and led her through the
corridors.

Of course, no one had ever suspected Rachel was dangerous. Not even Leah. She had hoped to alert someone to her
distress, but they passed no one. The servants were all busy
about their duties in the service areas, the children with their
nannies in the nursery, and Richard and Pierce secluded in the
library on the far side of the house. With the pistol shoved up
close to her babe, Leah had not dared to fight for control of
the weapon.

She skidded over a patch of wet moss, her arms flailing as
she fought to keep her balance. Every step brought them
closer to the roaring crash of waves against sheer black rocks,
the taste of salt, tangy and putrid in her mouth. She stopped
and turned to face Rachel. She would be damned if she allowed Rachel to toss her over the cliffs.

"What did she say?"

"She was not in her rooms" Richard rubbed his hand over
the knot at the base of his neck. Nor was she in the nursery
with the children. He told himself there was no need to panic,
but as he glanced at Pierce's expectant face, a shiver of apprehension brought sweat to his back. She was extremely upset,
their child due at any moment, and now she appeared to be
missing.

He strode to the entry hall, his footfalls matching the rapid
beat of his heart. It was foolish, he told himself. There was
no reason to fear. It was a large house, with any number of
rooms, and she always had some project or other under way.
Taking inventories. Refurbishing the upholstery.

If he didn't find her in one of the drawing rooms, he would
assemble the servants and search the house. Then she would turn up, dusty from a foray into the attics, or some such place,
and he would feel foolish. But at least he would know she was
safe.

He found Harris in the entry hall, instructing a newly hired
footman in his duties. "Have you seen the duchess?"

"Not since luncheon, Your Grace" Harris gave a slight lift
of his brows, a silent query for further instructions.

A petite maid wearing a cap and dusting the foyer scurried
over to him. She gave a quick cursty. "Beggin' your pardon,
sir, but I saw Her Grace"

"Where did you see her?" His voice, laced with panic,
came out louder and harsher than he'd intended.

"I was dusting in the gallery. I saw Her Grace and the
dowager duchess leave the house by the garden door. They
were moving fast, sir, like they were in a hurry."

Leah and Rachel? In the gardens? In the rain?

"Harris, fetch my coat"

"And mine, also," Pierce said.

"When did you see them?" Richard asked the maid.

"It must be nigh onto an hour ago, sir."

"Thank you. That will be all."

The maid bobbed another curtsy, then returned to her dusting. Harris brought their greatcoats, and within minutes the
two men were in the gardens following the trail of footprints
over the mud. The tracks led across the lawn and up the hill.

"I do not like this," Pierce said, pulling the brim of his hat
to block the rain from his eyes. "Why would they take a stroll
through the park, and in the rain, to boot? I honestly cannot
see Rachel exposing her cheeks to the wind."

Richard shook his head while he scanned the tracks ahead
of him. "There is nothing much in this direction except for-"

The cliffs. He took off at a run, shouting over his shoulder,
"Get help."

A heartbeat later, he heard the faint, but unmistakable sound
of a pistol retort carrying on the wind.

The bullet slammed into the ground mere inches from
Leah's feet and made her legs feel like twin puddles of melted
snow.

"This is an amazing weapon," Rachel purred, stroking the
pistol. "It has six revolving barrels. That means six shots, Leah,
and there are still five left. So I suggest you start moving before
I shoot you where you stand"

"What difference does it make?" Leah said, her low voice
lost in the wind. "You will kill me either way."

She had yet to start breathing again. Her heart was beating
so swiftly, she thought surely she would collapse at any
moment.

For the sake of her babe, she could not give up.

"Yes," Rachel agreed cheerfully. "But I would prefer not to
shoot you. I have other plans for your death. And, of course,
there is always the slim chance that you might escape" She
jabbed the gun at Leah's belly. "Now do as I say."

Leah stumbled along the well-worn path. Mercifully, the
rain had stopped, but the damage was done. Her clothing was
soaked through to her skin. The wind was so frigid, even her
bones felt frozen. But a new, greater fear was tormenting
Leah.

The dull ache that had plagued her back for the past two
weeks had grown stronger, more intense, and now spread to
encompass her lower abdomen. A few moments ago, a gush
of liquid had poured down her thighs, followed by a sticky
substance Leah greatly feared might be blood.

Every few minutes, a vicious cramp seized the muscles in
her belly and unbearable fire shot through her back, as if an
invisible hand had fingers squeezed around her spine.

They walked on another hour, until the path became too
steep and treacherous for Leah to maneuver. The bitter wind whipped the waves into a swirling frenzy and knocked Leah
to her knees.

She crawled to a sheltered crevice dipping between two
higher peaks, where the wind was less brutal. Using the solid
surface for balance, she dragged herself to her feet.

A quick glance told her the tide was high. The waves crashing into the rocks below sprayed her face with brackish water.
The nauseating stench of rotting fish clung to the rocks beneath her hands, the uneven surface littered with seashells
and lichen. Dizziness made her consciousness swirl as wildly
as the wind. Her stomach heaved. Do not look down. Do not
panic!

"Richard must be searching for us by now," she shouted at
Rachel. "You realize that, do you not? Even if you manage to
kill me, Richard will discover the truth"

"You think he loves you," Rachel said in a bored, even
voice, as if she were offering Leah tea. "But he does not. You
are nothing but his whore, his slut. He has used you the way
a dog ruts with a bitch in heat. The way a stallion mounts a
mare. Did you honestly think I would let you have him? Did
you think I would close my eyes and look away while you
spread your thighs for the man I love . . ."

As Rachel ranted into the wind, Leah scanned the path
ahead.

She could see the engine house from an abandoned tin
mine hovering on the edge of the cliff. She could attempt to
run, but her great bulk and the slippery stones would make a
fast flight impossible. Or she could charge Rachel, wrestle
her for the gun, but then they would both most likely tumble
over the edge into the waves below. Neither option had much
hope of success, but she could not stand there and wait to die.

Seizing the weapon seemed her best chance. She took a
step toward Rachel as Rachel spewed her vile words. The
wind whipped her hair across her cheeks, stung her eyes, but
she kept moving.

Rachel supported the pistol with both hands. "I know you
won't believe this, but I truly did not want to kill you. I simply
wanted you to go away."

"I can do that" Leah held up her hands. "If you put the gun
down, I will leave and you will never see me again."

"No! It is too late for that"

"Please, Rachel. Think of my babe. You are a mother. You
know how precious a child's life is. How can you hurt my
baby?"

Rachel's wild laughter carried on the breeze. "And that is
the point that drove us here, is it not? Richard would never let
you leave. Not now. Not with his seed growing in your belly.
So you see? I have no choice. You must die."

Rachel's hands were starting to shake. The gun was too
heavy and her fingers too cold. She had to end this now, then
return to the house before anyone found them missing.

The treacherous path, littered with lichen and ice, slowed
her steps as she stalked toward Leah. Crouched amid the
rocks, Leah's gold hair streamed out behind her, carried by
the wind. Her wide green eyes glared back at Rachel with a
hint of defiance amidst the fear. Just looking at her made
Rachel itch to put a ball through her heart, but she could not.

It had to appear an accident, or all hope was lost.

Everyone would bemoan her death, Rachel most of all.

What was she doing out on the cliffs, they would say, and
with her belly so far gone with child? Foolish, stupid woman.
To walk the paths in the midst of a storm.

With no evidence to point toward murder, no one would
ever suspect. And Richard, in his grief, poor man, would turn
to Rachel for comfort. She laughed aloud at her flawless plan.

But first, she had to push the foolish woman over the edge.

"Put the gun down, Rachel."

She spun around, her heart hammering, her blood rushing through her ears. She squinted against the wind, but she saw
nothing beyond the rocks. Then Richard appeared as if conjured up by the swirling mist, wrapped in a great coat from
shoulder to shin, his hair tossed about by the wind, his features
as harsh and jagged as the wild cliffs behind him. He appeared
a great brooding beast of the night, a devil-dark man with
magical hands that stirred a feral hunger within her heart.

"You must put the gun down," he said.

She kept the gun trained on Leah. Impotent fury shook her
legs. She was trapped, discovered, but she would not suffer
alone.

The deafening wind had masked the crunching pebbles and
seashells beneath his boots as Richard crept forward, his
knees trembling, his back soaked with sweat mixed with rain.

He surveyed the scene with quick efficiency, his mind
closed to the panic threatening to overtake him. Leah hovered
dangerously close to the edge of the cliffs while Rachel moved
toward her, gun teetering wildly in her hand, her shrill keening echoing off the rocks.

In the dim light, Richard could make out the weapon, a revolver known as a pepperbox because its cylindrical cluster
of barrels resembled the top of a pepper pot. The guns were
heavy and awkward and extremely unreliable. More often
than not, when one cartridge fired, the others would explode.
He had bought it to add to his firearms collection. Never
could he have imagined he would see it armed and aimed at
his wife.

Rachel's frenzied gaze darted from Richard to Leah as if
she couldn't decide whom to attack first.

Then she fixed Richard with a wild stare. "This is all your
fault. You should never have married her."

"I know," Richard said, a savage rage unleashing the bloodlust, curling his hands, tensing his legs as he prepared to pounce. But he kept his voice calm, steady, as he crept forward. "You are right. I see that now. But you must put down
the gun"

"I love you," she said. "I have always loved you, but everyone tried to separate us. My parents. Eric. Now her."

He had to keep her talking, keep her attention centered on
him and away from Leah. "I understand, Rachel. You love me.
You have always loved me. Let us go home. It is cold and
drafty up here. And Alison needs you. I need you"

He nearly choked on the words. A quick glance at Leah assured him she was safe, at least for the moment.

Sheltered between two crags, she looked so small, so fragile, with her drenched cloak clinging to her belly, her hands
clutching her throat. Her wide, frightened eyes gleamed silver
in the stormy light. Her terror for his safety was etched into
the grim lines around her lips.