Blood Lust (12 page)

The costume ball was endless. Katherine laughed and smiled and spoke affectionately of Benjamin to his guests, while feeling out of sorts, wondering the real reason William had come.

No answers came to her. The man called William was a figment of her imagination. She could hire someone perhaps to find out who he really was, but her funds were dangerously low and it didn’t really matter. He had no place in her life. He couldn’t save her, she had to find a man who would.

The hour grew late and she searched for her brother, but found he had already gone up to bed. Tired, but still on edge, she wandered through the marble corridors of Sussex Manor, leaving the guests behind, pausing to view one of the elegant rooms, enjoying the beauty of her surroundings.

“Beg pardon, my lady.” The gray-haired butler stood in the doorway. “I’m sorry to disturb you. I saw you walking this way and thought perhaps you might have gotten lost.”

She smiled at his concern. “Thank you. I am a bit disoriented. I had to intention in walking in this direction. However, I have been enjoying myself.”

He smiled at her, turned and pointed to one of the portraits. “This is the second duke, my lady, his grace’s grandfather.”

“And this imposing man?” She pointed toward the silver-haired man in one of the portraits. “That was the duke’s father?”

“Yes, my lady.”

“The present duke is the old duke’s second son. His wife died in childbirth.”

Katherine arched her brow in thought. “I didn’t realize Benjamin had an older brother.”

The butler nodded. “Yes, yes he did, my lady.” He turned to a family portrait that hung off to one side. The canvas was not as brightly lit as the others on the wall.

“
That’s him there. The boy on the left is his grace, and the other dark haired boy on the right is his brother.”

Katherine was drawn closer to the portrait, her heart pounding. The portrait was that of a family of four, the boys just coming into manhood. Benjamin’s features were still the same, the changes in him subtle, his skin still pale, his build still slender.

It was the other boy who had changed, and yet as she held a branch of candles beside the portrait, she knew immediately who he was.

There was no mistaking those features, the piercing eyes, the strong cheekbones. Today he looked harder, bigger and stronger, not to mention tougher. He had emerged into a warrior.

“What was his name?” she asked, her hands shaking as she held the light up next to the portrait.

“He was named William, my lady. After the first duke of Sussex.”

As she looked back at the butler, a sad smile altered his features. “He was a good boy, William. It isn’t true what they have said about him. They’ll never make me believe it.” The old man’s voice was filled with emotion.

“What happened to him?” she asked, speaking the words in barely a whisper.

“I’m sorry my lady. I should not have spoken out of turn as I did. It wouldn’t do for me to gossip, his grace would not approve.”

“I’m sorry, but I need to know what happened to William. I promise you that what you say will go no further than this room.”

He looked at her for a moment and heard the desperation in her voice. He drew in a deep breath.

“It was many years ago, my lady. William and his father were arguing.”

“What were they arguing about?”

“Lady Jane Cromwell, I believe.”

“Lady Cromwell?” Katherine repeated, her stomach twisting into knots. She had met the countess this evening for the first time. She was a woman of beauty, her skin unblemished. Katherine had been struck by it the moment she saw her enter the room.

“Aye, it was over the countess. It was known that young William was involved with the woman and his father did not approve. William stormed out of the house and a few minutes later the duke left as well. He followed his son to the inn where William and the lady were meeting. That’s where it happened.”

“Where what happened?”

“Where the argument began again. The duke was shot and killed. They said William had done it. It wasn’t so, my lady. William loved his father. He would have never done his father any harm.”

Katherine was shaking by now. She felt her legs were ready to buckle beneath her. She clutched the edge of the table to try and steady herself. “What happened to William?”

Part of her had to know, the other part did not.

“He was arrested, my lady, tossed into prison. His brother had followed the duke when he left Sussex Manor. Benjamin said he tried to stop the shooting. Lady Cromwell testified against William as well. The only one to stand up for him at his trial was Lord Damien. He and William had long been friends.”

“Damien?” Katherine repeated, imagining the duke.

“It did no good however. William was sentenced to hang. It never happened. The first night he was there, thieves set upon him. They killed him that night, my lady, murdered the poor boy.”

Katherine looked back at the portrait. She thought she might be sick. There was no mistaking that face. It was the face of the man who had kidnapped her, the man who had saved her from marrying the duke. The face of the man who had kissed her tonight. A face she could not forget.

“Thank you. Now if you don’t mind, perhaps you could guide me back to the staircase as I may retire for the evening.”

“Of course, my lady.” He nodded. Neither of them spoke as he led her down the passage and she disappeared up the marble staircase.

Once inside her room, she mounted the ladder to the huge four poster bed and sank back against the feather mattress. Her insides were burning, her heart was heavy within her.

He was not just William, but William Spencer, the man who should have been the fifth duke of Sussex. The same man who had come here tonight, the man who had kissed her on the terrace.

Not a bandit, but a murderer. Dear God!

Where had he been hiding all these years? Why had he reappeared now?

One mistake, one person recognizing him and he would be returned to prison. Why was he risking himself? What could be so important?

Katherine stared at the silk bed hangings, but she could not really see them because the face that kept swimming into her vision was that of William Spencer. The duke of Sussex.

She remembered his fierce kiss, wondered where he was and why he had come tonight to Sussex Manor.

She also wondered if he could really be the murderer he was suppose to be.

Katherine closed her eyes, but she didn’t fall asleep.

Chapter Nine

William climbed the stairs to his bedchamber in the south tower of Damien’s manor. He was staying there, away from the main house. Here he could come and go as he wished without colliding with one of the servants.

He felt comfortable here, in the simple part of the ancient castle. Heavy tapestries, depicting medieval hunting scenes hung from the thick stone walls. The bed was a carved, massive piece of furniture, carved out of oak with furs tossed upon it.

A fire was burning in the hearth, built by the one manservant Damien had assigned to him. He smiled when he saw the fire, enjoying the heat that engulfed the room, ridding the room of the cold that seemed a permanent part of the tower.

He turned around as he removed his massive cloak to find Damien sitting in one of the leather chairs that adorned the room. “I suppose I should have stayed at Benjamin’s ghastly affair longer, but once I saw you returned safely from your sojourn into his study, I took my leave. I didn’t expect you to encounter any problems, dressed the way you were.”

“Only a small one, but that one proved more entertaining than bothersome.”

Damien’s brow arched. “I believe I saw the small problem which are referring to. She was dancing with that horrible leech, nearly being accosted at the end of one dance. I hope you extricated the lady before the fool lost his senses.”

“She was rather glad to see me. Now you tell me it was not my winning personality, but that old coot’s leering advances that made her so eager.” William smiled, thinking about her.

Smiling, Damien replied, “At least he was good for something.” He moved closer and watched William pull a sheaf of folded papers from the pocket of his waistcoat. “From Benjamin’s study, I presume?”

“Exactly. As I told you, I knew where the safe was located and how to open it. I was certain what I would find, but as it turns out, I did rather well.” Unfolding the papers, he smoothed them out on the table. “This document is dated two days after my father’s murder. It is a contract between the duke of Sussex and the duchess of Cromwell. Benjamin agrees to pay her a lump sum payment of two hundred fifty thousand pounds plus a large yearly stipend for life. There is enough money invested to keep the duchess in extremely high fashion for the rest of her life.”

“Let me see that.” Damien bent over, carefully examining the document in the candlelight. “Good God. Benjamin would turn a putrid shade of green if he knew you had gotten your hands on this document.”

“By itself, it isn’t enough to overturn the guilty verdict, but it’s a start, the first solid evidence we’ve uncovered that shows that there might have been some sort of collusion on Benjamin’s part.”

Damien slapped his friend on the shoulder. “Better than that, this document ties Jane and Benjamin together. Perhaps its existence will be threat enough to force her to admit her part in the deception and tell the truth of what happened that night.”

William shook his head. “We can’t risk it. Jane won’t bluff easily. We can’t afford for either of them to get suspicious. We must not alert them of our movements until we are certain the duchess will agree to tell the truth. If she suspects for even a moment that I am alive, she’ll tell Benjamin. He’ll do anything to stop me.”

Damien frowned at the thought. “We’ll have to be careful, but we’ve known that from the start. As you say, this document in itself isn’t enough, but at least we have a beginning. I’m more than pleased with that.”

“It feels good Damien. I can tell you that much. It’s the first real glimmer of hope I’ve had.” William leaned against the stone wall and looked up at the ceiling.

“This is only the beginning my friend.”

William wished he could be as optimistic as his friend for every day he remained in England, the odds of his discovery worsened. Sooner or later someone would recognize him. The authorities would then come and haul him off to prison. He would hang for sure, this time there would be no escape. He had to move with the utmost care, yet every minute that passed decreased his odds of succeeding.

“You’ve done a good night’s work,” Damien said, heading toward the door. “Try to get some rest now.”

Maybe he would, William thought, moving once again to the table, his fingers caressing the valuable documents. He thought of the risk he had taken by going into Sussex Manor, then he smiled as he thought of his encounter with the Lady Katherine. Even if he hadn’t found the documents, the risk would have been worth it. He recalled how she felt in his arms, the scent of her fragrance. His body stiffened with desire. He remembered her lips, parting under his and her full breasts under his chest.

Perhaps he would sleep, he thought. Or perhaps he would spend the night in agony of hunger, reliving the time he had shared with Lady Katherine.

Katherine tossed and turned in the deep feather mattress and didn’t fall asleep until shortly before dawn. Upon waking, a slight headache pounded her temple.

Her lady servant opened the door to her room. “His grace has been asking for you, my lady. He wants you to join him and his guests.”

Katherine nodded. Benjamin was playing his part to the hilt. The gossip had declined to faint murmurings of consolation for the ordeal she had gone through. Their parting would pass with only the usual amount of speculation as to the reason.

“I’ll wear the dark green taffeta,” she told the woman. She was already dreading the day, but even before the sentence had escaped her lips, her thoughts returned to where they had been before. Through the long, sleepless night, she had thought of only one thing. William Spencer.

Was he a murderer? Or was there some mistake that only made him appear to be? Was he guilty or was he innocent?

As she completed making herself ready, she tried to convince herself that William was indeed a murderer.

Under the right set of circumstances, she really didn’t doubt that he was. It was certain he was ruthless in obtaining his ends. He was fiercely determined when anyone tried to oppose him.

William Spencer was a explosive, precarious man. Every inch of his body spoke of the hardships that had been honed into him to make him the man he had become. She tried to tell herself that he could very well have murdered his father, but nothing inside her agreed with the notion. As she replayed the days they had spent together only furthered her internal feelings. She had fought him every moment he had her as his captive, yet he never really hurt her, not even when she gave him reason to. When he had spoken of his father, the look on his face held nothing less than love for the man who had raised him.

He is innocent. However, a small voice within her warned her that it was wishful thinking. It told her that he wa a man who was suppose to have hung, but she could not get rid of the feeling that he was not a man who could commit such a crime against someone he loved.