Shades of the Past (26 page)

Suddenly he reached for his walking sticks and rose unsteadily to his feet. “Take my arm, my dear, and let’s go before I turn chicken and start to cluck,” he muttered.

Together they approached the entrance to the past, and the doors swung open on the sunlit ballroom, but as they stepped through, Gulliver disappeared. She turned in confusion, for she’d expected him to stay with her, but then she remembered. Harcourt and all the servants were at the fair. She wasn’t alone, though, for Marianna and Stephen were with her, Stephen still looking pale, but much better than he had. They were all three waiting at the ballroom doors for Blair, and as she heard his familiar step across the landing, the clock in the hall below began to strike a quarter to four.

Blair wore a dark gray coat and cream breeches, and the diamond pin in his neckcloth glittered as he reached them. Laura pressed her hands nervously into the folds of her apricot floral gown, praying that all was going to end well, and that this new life would be one with him safe at her side. Tears stung her eyes, for until Blair Deveril she’d never realized how deep and fierce love could be.

His eyes were only for her, and he said nothing to the others as he took her hands. “If you wish to back out of this, you only have to say,” he said gently.

“I don’t want to back out.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.”

He turned to the others. “Are we all quite clear upon the plan?”

Stephen nodded. He looked tired but determined, his pallor disguised a little by the rich clover color of his coat. Marianna clung to his arm, her yellow lawn gown too cheerful for such a moment.

Blair saw how tense she was, and looked at Stephen. “Take her to her rooms, and make sure she stays there. Lowestoft mustn’t realize there’s anyone else in the house other than Laura and your supposedly bedridden self.”

Stephen began to obey, but then paused. “Just remember, I’ll be within hearing.” He patted his pocket, where one of Blair’s dueling pistols was primed and ready. Blair had the other.

When they’d gone, Blair took Laura in his arms and kissed her luxuriously on the lips. It was a slow kiss, gentle, loving, and complete. No words were needed. The house was very quiet. Outside, she could hear the cries of the peacocks and the barking of the spaniels in the kitchen garden, but here, in Blair’s arms, there was only the beating of their hearts.

After a long moment, he rested his cheek against her hair. “When you’ve brought Lowestoft to the library, just remember to stand well away from him; I don’t want you within his reach. If he poses any threat to you, no matter how small, I’ll stay my hand. But I’ll be in the room waiting, you may be sure of that.” He held her even closer. “I don’t like involving you any more than you already are, but I know him, he’ll be too much on his guard to be surprised before the library. Only when his attention is on the safe will he be fully exposed.”

“I’ll do everything you ask.”

“Just take care, my darling.”

She closed her eyes.
And you, my love, and you…

He glanced around. “I’m so glad I’ve sold this house, and that soon the past will be behind us forever,” he said softly.

She kept her head bowed to hide the anguish that suddenly choked her.

They both heard a horse coming down the drive, and her heart missed a beat. Blair turned. “That must be Lowestoft!”

“I—I’m ready.”

Their eyes met, but before he could say anything more she turned to a nearby console table to pick up the reticule, which contained the fake necklace, because they knew there was a mark on the real one that Miles was bound to look for. They were taking a calculated risk that they would be able to prevent Miles from escaping with it.

Blair watched as she crossed toward the main hall. Suddenly he wanted to call her back. A sixth sense told him something was wrong. “Laura!” The name echoed after her, but she didn’t turn.

The horse had halted outside, so Blair went quickly to the library, where the fire had burned so low it was almost out. A few embers glowed in the draft from the open window, and the smell of paint and varnish was still strong, but didn’t overpower the lingering headiness of damp plaster.

Suddenly there was a soft step behind him. He whirled about, and his face changed. “
You!
What in God’s name—

He was silenced by a savage blow with a candlestick, and he knew a moment’s sickening pain before he pitched forward into unconsciousness.

The candlestick was tossed aside as his assailant quickly dragged a chair forward, concealed him with the dust sheet draped over it, then slipped silently out again.

Chapter Twenty-two

Laura led Miles up the staircase, and paused at the top. “You see? The house is completely deserted. Stephen’s in his bed on the next floor, and there’s absolutely no one else here.”

The black unicorn ring was very plain as Miles’ hand rested on the polished rail. “I’d be a fool to take your word.”

“Don’t you trust me?”

“No, my dear, I don’t doubt you’d trick me if you could.”

“There is no trick.”

“You’d better mean it,” he replied coolly, taking out a pistol and leveling it at her. “This is just to make sure you know I mean business, my dear,” he said, but then thought he heard something. “What was that?”

“I—I didn’t hear anything.”

“If there’s someone else here…” His fingers dug in cruelly, and he pressed the pistol to her temple.

“I swear there isn’t!” she cried. “Just Stephen, and he can’t leave his room.”

To her relief he slowly lowered the gun, but he remained as taut as a bowstring. “Very well, let’s get on with it in case someone does choose to return. You have the paste necklace with you?”

“In my reticule,” she replied truthfully.

He continued to grip her arm as they crossed the landing to the library. There he hesitated in the doorway, glancing suspiciously at the ghostly dust sheets and clutter of decorators’ trappings. Celina’s portrait was in shadow, and he didn’t notice it as he pushed Laura over the threshold into the room.

“You—you’re hurting me!” she cried, wanting him to release her so that Blair could make a move, but he took no notice. Then she noticed one of the chairs had been moved. Blair must have done it, but why? Her thoughts were jolted as Miles shook her a little.

“Show me the safe.”

“Over there, behind that shelf of books.”

He propelled her across the room. “Where, exactly?”

“Let me go, please! You’re hurting me!”

“Oh, no, my dear, I feel more secure with you in my grasp! Now, the safe, if you please!”

It was almost as if he knew the plan, she thought as with trembling hands she pushed the books aside and then the false wall. Without relaxing his hold on her for a moment, he took out the key. “Unlock it.”

She obeyed, and then showed him how it wouldn’t open.

“Try a little harder.”

Still the door refused to budge, and at last he seemed convinced she was telling the truth. To her relief he released her and put the pistol down in order to try the safe himself. She moved aside, expecting Blair to step out of hiding, but there was no sign of him. Dismayed, she looked around. The seconds ticked by, and a finger of alarm began to creep down her spine. Where was he? Why didn’t he make his move?”

Miles’ efforts suddenly came to fruition, as by chance he did the very thing that was needed. The safe door swung open, and he gave a triumphant cry as he took out the case containing the necklace. The diamonds flashed as he held them up to look for the telltale mark, just as Blair had suspected. Satisfied, he thrust them into his pocket and extended a hand out for the paste copy.

She handed it over and he rearranged them in the case and then locked the door. As he turned to face her again, he saw the disquiet in her eyes. “What’s wrong?” he demanded, suspicion descending over him like a cloak.

“Nothing.”

“This is a trick after all, isn’t it?” he breathed, seizing her wrist and twisting it agonizingly behind her back. “I’m armed, and if you think I wouldn’t use it, you’re very much mistaken.” He thrust her roughly against the shelves, and the jolt sent the pistol scudding out of reach along the polished wooden shelf, but he didn’t seem to notice as he pressed his body to hers.

“There’s nothing going on!” she cried. “We’re alone in the house except for Stephen.”

Suddenly he noticed Celina’s portrait, and a strange look entered his eyes. He still held Laura too tightly for her to escape, but his attention was solely upon the portrait. “Oh, Celina, you were meant to be mine,” he breathed, as if the painting could hear.

Laura was frightened. “Please let me go,” she begged.

He didn’t hear, for in his mind he was alone with Celina.

Laura cast desperately around for Blair. Where was he? Why didn’t he come out?

Miles’ glazed eyes swung from the portrait to her. “You’re mine, Celina, not Deveril’s.”

He’d called her Celina! Laura’s mouth ran dry, and she felt cold in spite of the warmth of the May afternoon. He’d begun to slip into the same delusion that tortured his wife.

“You shouldn’t have left me at the altar, Celina.”

“I—I’m not Celina,” she whispered.

“You can’t fool me, my darling,” he breathed, pressing to her.

It was Celina’s body he felt, Celina’s warmth that aroused him. He bent his head and forced his lips over hers. Laura froze with fear and loathing. His breath was hot on her face as he forced his tongue between her lips, but as his hand slid to enclose one of her breasts, a trembling female voice interrupted him.

“Forget her, Miles, for
I’m
the one who wears your ring!”

A curse jerked from him as he whirled about to face the black-clothed figure in the doorway, and his face turned to wax as he saw the little pearl-handled pistol she directed at his heart. “Sweet God above, Estelle,” he whispered, and then remembered his own pistol. His hand darted to where he’d left it, but it wasn’t there. His gaze flew back to Estelle. “How did you know I was here?” he asked, trying to divert her attention.

She gave a brittle laugh. “I was in the woods this morning and heard you make this assignation with your whore!” The pistol moved toward Laura for a moment, and then back to him.

He strove to placate her. “This isn’t an assignation, Estelle. I’m getting the diamond necklace for you, see?” He took the necklace from his pocket. “It’s yours now, my love, and should have been since the moment you became my bride.”

“Since I became your victim,” she corrected, not even glancing at the superb diamonds. “Sir Blair Deveril has suffered as I suffered, because he’s the whore’s deceived husband, but I’ve made sure he doesn’t see her with you right here in his own house.” She pointed the pistol toward the shape beneath the dust sheet, and for the first time Laura noticed the bloodstained candlestick lying six feet away.

Miles’ fingers clenched over the diamonds as he realized there’d been a trap after all. Laura didn’t even notice, she was too distraught about Blair. “What have you done to him? Is he dead?” she cried.

The reply was full of scorn. “Don’t pretend you care, whore! Your husband doesn’t matter to you, you’re only interested in mine!” Estelle turned accusingly to Miles. “Why have you
always
betrayed me so cruelly? You break your vows every day with your lust, but God will punish you through me.”

“Estelle—”

“I’m the one you should have loved, not her. You lied when you said she was dead, but you won’t lie again. Ever.” She cocked the pistol, and the sinister sound fell into a sudden silence.

Miles was terrified. “Estelle, I was only trifling with her a moment ago! I wouldn’t have gone further because you’re right, she
is
a whore!”

“You’d have taken her right there, against that bookcase!” Her finger began to tighten on the trigger.

“No!” he screamed, and the necklace slipped from his hand as he ducked with his arms over his head to run from the library, but she calmly leveled the pistol at his back, and shot him as he fled to the top of the staircase.

Laura screamed as he staggered to a halt. Blood stained his shoulder, and there was puzzlement on his face as he turned to stare at his wife. “Estelle?”

She showed no mercy, but calmly reloaded the pistol and squeezed the trigger again. The shot found its mark in his heart. He tottered for a moment, the necklace fell from his hand, and he collapsed by the topmost step.

The ensuing silence seemed to echo. Laura could hear the distant clamor of the spaniels in the kitchen garden, excited by the shots, but here in the house it was absolutely still.

She stared at Miles.
His
was the body Gulliver had seen. But were there two dead men? Was Blair dead too? Her wretched gaze was fixed upon the still shape beneath the dust-sheet shroud.

Her dread thoughts broke off as suddenly Estelle put a third ball into the pistol and whirled about to face her. “It’s
your
turn now, Celina,” she breathed, bringing the weapon swiftly to bear.

But before she could fire, another report rang out from somewhere on the landing. Estelle’s yes started, and the pistol slipped from her fingers as she turned to see who’d fired, but then her knees sagged and she crumpled to the floor. Black gauze fluttered and settled around her until she resembled little more than a heap of mourning cloth.

Stephen dropped his weapon and limped hastily to Laura. “Are you all right?”

Too shocked to speak, she managed to nod.

“I came as soon as I heard the first shot. Where’s Blair?” he demanded.

The question brought her to her wits, and she dashed to drag the dust sheet away. Blair lay like a corpse. His face was ashen and there was blood from the wound on his temple. She sank to her knees, too afraid to touch him in case his skin was cold.

Marianna had crept past Miles’ body to the library door. She glanced at Estelle’s body for a moment, but then saw Blair and gave a cry of dismay. Her big brown eyes filled with frightened tears as Stephen went to her.

Laura at last stretched a hand to Blair’s cheek. Her fingertips brushed softly against him. His flesh was warm, and he stirred a little. Her breath caught on a sob as she lovingly smoothed the blood from his face. “He’s alive!”