After The Storm (27 page)

“You … you admit it, you were the one who took a
shot at him today?” She knew it in her heart but said it for
confirmation.

“Yes, but you called out to him just as I got my shot
off, and he moved and I missed.”

“You don’t know what you are doing, Mac … you
are sick,” she said, desperate to get across the bridge and stop
her husband from taking it on horseback. She knew he had tampered
with the bridge.

“Not know?” he raged. “
I know
—I have suffered
knowing. Jenny, you were bad, and I had to punish you. I had to. I
saw you go into the shed. You married someone else. That was very
disloyal. How could you have married someone else when I have doted
on you all year? I was so angry. I saw you in the shed, and I
locked you in, and then I came back later and set it on fire. I
wasn’t going to let you get hurt, but I wanted to be the one,
the one to rescue you
 …” His expression was like a mask
of evil. Who was this, Jenny thought. This couldn’t be Mac, not the
Mac she had known.

“Mac, listen to me.” She tried making sense of this
but just couldn’t, and the words died in her throat.

“
No
. Can’t listen, when it is you that needs
to listen. I need your forgiveness, and then when he dies, you will
wait a respectable time and then leave with me as
my
wife
.”

“You can’t do this … if it is me you want. Let
him live, and I’ll leave with you,” she said.

“No, the earl must be erased.”

* * *

The Wendall boys had escaped Helen Browne while she
was deep in conversation with Howard Danfield.

They took off laughing into the woods. They were
having quite an adventure, heedless of the hour, when they
witnessed Mac pull Jenny off her horse.

The stopped short and exchanged looks, and Robert’s
brows rose with surprise. They were fully aware that something
strange had been going on at Danfield, and now here was this man
whom they were not sure they liked, and he was being a bit rough
with the earl’s bride.

They crept up closer to listen in on what was being
said, and then they saw Jenny break free and run.

“He means her harm, Peter!” Robert said fearfully.
“Come on—we have to help Aunt Jenny.” They followed, determined
that they would save her, and waited their chance.

That opportunity arose as Jenny began stepping away
from Mac and he had his back to them. Robert picked up a large
stick, gave it to Peter, and then took another for himself. “On the
count of three, Peter—we charge and aim for his legs!”

They counted, and they ran at Mac, who too late heard
them coming. He turned and found two demons beating at his thighs
and calves.

Jenny spanned the short distance to the entrance of
the bridge, and there at the other end of the bridge was her
husband, coaxing his horse onto the planking. Never was she so
happy that horses were ever hesitant, no matter how many times they
had done it, to walk the planking of a bridge. “Stop!
Stay
there!
” she called as she threw up her hands.

He couldn’t hear her over the rushing water and
continued, in spite of her waving arms and motion to stop, to come
forward. She looked around and decided to go towards him. She held
onto the railing for support, unsure where she should walk, but, as
swiftly as she could, began making her way towards him. She had to
stop him. She had to. She got to the middle of the narrow bridge,
and then it happened.

A plank under her feet gave way, and her foot fell
through. Before she could recoup, another plank under the other
foot gave way, and her body fell through as she clung to the
remaining loose planking still wedged in place against the
railing.

She closed her eyes and when she opened them saw the
rocks jutting out of the shallow water, boulders out of the deeper
white rush.

She wouldn’t survive this; no one could.

Two strong arms reached down and hoisted her up and
into his strong embrace. The earl held her tightly, saying her name
and whispering tender words.

“Jason, you have to go the long way home … can’t
use the bridge … Mac, it has been Mac all along. Jason, he
killed Johnny!”

Suddenly, Mac was on top of them, growling
incoherently as he charged.

Jason put his wife behind him and caught Mac by the
neck. He landed him a facer that sent him reeling backwards, and
with a terrified scream, Mac lost his footing and fell through the
very planking he had dislodged!

~
Epilogue ~

ASHLEY GRANGE HAD never before looked so peaceful,
thought Jenny idly as she leaned back upon her elbows, surrounded
by buttercups.

Day lilies were in bloom everywhere throwing their
orange robustness about defiantly against the cool green grass.

Her husband dropped down beside her and touched her
nose. “Your hair looks glorious in the sun … gold
streaked … you beauty you.”

She smiled at him. He was all she thought about these
days. Gone was the terror that had taken place at Danfield. She
didn’t think of it any longer but had managed to put it in its
place. Mac had lost his mind, she told herself. He had killed
Johnny. She couldn’t think about that any longer and set it
aside.

She ran her hand through the earl’s silky black locks
and dropped a kiss on his nose. Everything that had happened—all of
the things keeping them apart—was gone, and over.

That night, he had carried her into the house, with
everyone flinging questions at them. He had taken her to her room,
but she hadn’t been able to stop shaking. Mac was dead—and it had
been him all along.

Jason had held her and soothed her, saying, “Hush, it
is over.”

“He wanted to kill you, because of me. He wanted to
kill you. I nearly brought you death, Jason,” she had cried while
clinging to him.

“My sweet life, you have brought me love and
completeness,” he answered and kissed her long.

She had flung her arms around him, but at length he
had asked if he could leave her to attend to matters. A warning had
to be posted at the bridge until he could have it repaired, and, he
said gently, Mac’s body needed to be recovered. He had to go back
out with some men.

Later that night, she told him everything of what Mac
had said, and he had held her until she had fallen asleep. When
they awoke, she begged him to take her home for a spell.

He spoke with his attorney and discovered that while
the will clearly specified that an uninterrupted month must be
spent at Danfield Castle, it did not indicate how soon after the
wedding this had to be.

Mac’s body had been retrieved, and his remains were
sent to his poor father in Cornwall, without telling the old
gentleman the whole. The tale was set about that Mac had met his
untimely end by accident, and though speculation was rife, the
story was not openly challenged.

The earl was pleased to take Jenny to the open arms
of her father and Aunt Beth. He wanted her to have a new beginning,
and he could think of nothing more welcoming than the arms of those
two.

The earl sighed contentedly and laid his head in
Jenny’s lap before smiling up at her and saying, “Received a letter
from Howard.”

“Oh, what does he say?”

“That, m’girl, he finds life with Miss Helen far more
enjoyable than you did. I believe they are planning a wedding.”

“And the Wendall boys?”

“Two scamps, but in another month it is Harrow for
them both. Peter may be a touch young, but they can’t be separated.
I wouldn’t do that, and it is time for Robert to go.”

“And Brad? When does he leave for India?”

“I believe that they will set sail by the end of the
month. Diane doesn’t know it yet, but it is the best thing for them
both.”

She rested his head on the grass and got into
position to lie there with him, throwing an arm over his chest and
sighing.

He grinned and said, “What an affectionate little
puss I have married. You gave me no hint of it when we met, you
know.”

“Odious man.”

“And I thought you loved me?” he teased.

“Oh, Jason, I do,” she said fiercely.

He held her tightly then and whispered, “Our sun
shines for us now, Jenny.” And his lips were warm so warm on her
own.

Thus with many a pretty oath,

Yea, and nay and faith and troth,

Love which had been long deluded,

Was with kisses sweet concluded.

—Richard Breton, 1591

~ End ~

Oh, Cherry Ripe

~ One ~

CHERYL ELTON OPENED the door to her stepmother’s
sitting room and peeped around the corner of the bright and
handsomely furnished room before she smiled sheepishly and asked,
“You wanted to see me, mama?”

Lady Elton’s expression was grave and her lips set as
she said in a reproving tone, “Come sit, Cheryl.”

Cherry Elton did what she was told, not because she
was an obedient miss, but because she wanted to stave off the
trouble she saw ahead.

Her stepmother affectionately brushed Cherry’s long,
thick, black hair away from her face and clucked. “I suppose you
should start to wear your hair up most of the time now … you
certainly are of age.”

“Yes, Mama, but I like it loose.”

Lady Elton frowned and sighed, took a moment to
smooth out the skirt of her gray satin day gown, and then looked
into Cherry’s bright aqua-blue eyes. “I want you to listen to what
I have to say before you get yourself in a state.”

“Mama, I know now that what I did was not quite the
thing—” Cherry hurriedly began to explain. She knew this time she
was in trouble.

“Not the thing!” spluttered Lady Elton, interrupting
her. “Hopping on Lord Melville’s stallion in the middle of Hyde
Park—in your walking clothes—and then riding the animal astride
with your skirt hiked up as you raced Sir Peter for all the world
to see …
not the thing?
Why, you miserable wretch of a
girl! How can you sit there and look so innocent? If your father
were alive …”

Cheryl leaned forward and hugged her stepmother. “I
am sorry.” But even as her stepmother might have relaxed had she
left it at that, Cherry added, “Had I been a man and done that, I
would have been called
top sawyer
 … but just because I
am a female—”

“A man would not have had to hike up his skirts!”
Lady Elton snapped. “Cherry love, what am I to do with you?” She
put up her hand to stop her stepdaughter from answering. “Enough.
You know the rules that govern society. You know that what you do
affects not only your own standing but mine as well in that same
society. How dare you, child.”

This tore at Cherry. She loved her stepmother and
meant her no ill. As far back as she could remember her stepmother
had always loved her and her father and had been very good to her.
“Mama, I didn’t think past the moment … Peter was being
the devil of a tease … and there was Melville’s black looking
so very fine and inviting and Melville goading me by saying he was
too much horse for me to handle … and …”

“Yes, impossible creature, I do see, but that is
where a young woman of your breeding and standing demurs and shames
a gentleman into behaving with more decorum towards her.” Lady
Elton clucked her tongue, and Cherry could see her mama’s thoughts
racing. “However, I have the solution, and amazingly enough,
he
still wants you.”

“What
are
you talking about?
He
—who
still wants me?”

“I knew that he was more than mildly interested, but
I never dreamed he would actually come up to scratch … and
then, Lady Jersey said you would be refused vouchers to Almack’s
because of your recent hoydenish behavior … That awful woman
never liked me—I daresay she was looking for the chance to …
but never mind, all will soon be well.”

“Jersey said she would refuse me entrée to Almack’s?”
Cherry returned on a hushed note. She always thought the
Haute
Ton
hostess liked her.

“No, no, not Sarah but the other one.”

“Princess Esterhazy? Stiff-rumped—”

“And that is another thing—your language. You spout
terms like any man—stiff-rumped, indeed.”

“Well, I don’t care about Almack’s anyway,” Cherry
answered.

“Then why are you pouting? This won’t do. You shan’t
be admitted there this season, you dreadful girl. However, all is
not lost. You will be married to the catch of the century, and they
just might change their minds about you yet. No matter, you will be
busy enough this season with your new life.”

“Married?” Cherry jumped to her dainty feet. “
I
won’t!
 No—what are you talking about?” Had she indicated
any partiality for any of her suitors? No, she had not. How could
her stepmother do this? It was absurd. She had refused no less than
five offers in the past eight months.
What then—
this offer
had to be from a virtual stranger. Who could have applied for her
hand?

“Oh, but my girl, you will be married, and one day
you will thank me for taking this high-handed method of settling
you comfortably just when you were on the brink of scandal.”

“Mama, I don’t know what you are talking about. I
must tell you that I have no intention whatsoever of marrying where
my heart has not thrown in the towel, and I must advise you that my
heart is very much my own.”

“And still you will be married, my darling, and he is
just the man to set you to rights,” Lady Elton returned gently but
firmly.

“The devil you say!” her wayward stepdaughter
retorted in just the style her stepmama deplored.

“Now that is precisely what I mean.” Lady Elton
sighed. “You cannot go about using expressions like that one. It is
most unbecoming.”