“What errand did you send him on, my lord?”
If he considered her question impertinent, Douglas gave no sign. He said easily, “There is information coming in at Eastbourne. I believe it will answer most of our questions. I am very sorry Hollis isn’t here, Annabelle.”
“As am I, to be sure. However, my lord, I would pray that you not underestimate your own charms.”
“My charms, Annabelle?”
She pulled a long-barreled dueling pistol from her cloak pocket. “As a matter of fact, my lord, I am delighted Hollis isn’t here. He would have been in the way, would have tried to save you, and who knows? I might have had to shoot him.
“That you sent him away, I thank you, my lord. I am relieved.” She smiled at him. “Let me also thank you for sending the lad. I knew everything had to come to an end soon, but the right circumstances hadn’t yet presented themselves. But now all is as I would wish it. William is gone, Lady Alexandra is off visiting Lady Maybella, and Jason is at the paddocks. It is now just you and me. It will happen now.” She looked quickly through the crack in the door, then turned back to him. “No, my lord, do not move. I am quite a good shot. I fancied you were getting close, perhaps you were even ready to set a trap for me, my lord, but here I am, springing it before you were ready.”
Douglas sat back in his chair, his arms behind his head. “You duped us all, madam. You have a rare talent.”
“You only say so because you were the one deceived, my lord.”
“Tell me, Annabelle. Were the stories you told my wife about Miss Plimpton anywhere near the truth?”
She laughed. “Ah. William’s precious Miss Plimpton. I never met her, of course, but I suspect you figured that out, didn’t you?”
“Yes, a pity. I did not lie. I am glad that Hollis isn’t here. You also deceived him.”
Douglas looked at her with such contempt that she shouted, “I had to use the old man! There was no one else to give me entrée into this wretched house.”
“You did it very well. Now, you are English. How could you be related to Georges Cadoudal?”
“His wife, Janine, was my sister, well, halfsister, really. My mother was English, and I was raised in Surrey. She named me Marie because she believed that useless Frenchman who was my father would be pleased, perhaps leave his wife for her. I did not go to France until months before Janine died. I took care of Georges and the children.”
“What is your name?”
“Marie Flanders. My dear dolt of a mother dressed bonnets for all the wealthy ladies in Middle Clapton. A meager existence. She died far too soon, with nothing.”
“Why do you wish to kill me, madam?”
“I am going to kill you because you betrayed my sister. You raped her, made her with child, and left her.”
Douglas rose slowly as he spoke, splayed his palms on his desk, leaned toward her. “You know that is nonsense, Annabe-Marie. Why do you really want me dead? Come now, the truth. After all, you’re going to kill me. What difference does it make?”
She gave him a wonderfully warm smile. She leaned toward him, whispering, “No difference at all, my lord. You want the truth? It’s money, my lord, all your money, and your house, and your lovely title, once you are dead. Naturally one would wish to dress it up, claim a motive of pure vengeance, of righteous revenge, since it sounds so terribly tawdry and common to claim simple gain. Ah, I do believe she is here now. It is about time.” Marie turned her head just slightly. “Come in, my dear.”
Judith McCrae slipped in through the door, and softly closed it.
“I have checked, Aunt Marie. No one is in the house, other than some servants floating about. Everyone is out watching the horses mating. I should be there too, but now I won’t have to endure that disgusting display.” As she spoke, Douglas walked slowly around the side of his desk and stood against the bookshelves.
“Hello, my lord. From the look on your face, I have a feeling that you are not altogether surprised.”
Douglas took small steps toward the sofa, as if he was going to sit down. “No, I’m not surprised. I hoped I was wrong, for my son’s sake. No one had as yet brought in your name, but I knew I would have to. You wanted my son to give you entry to my house, just as your aunt did with Hollis, and you managed to snag him, something no young lady before has managed.”
“It was not difficult. Jason is a man, my lord, just a man.”
“And you sat in on all our meetings, learned of our thoughts and plans. My wife was ready to welcome you into the family. Do you know she told me she was blessed, to have two such fine daughters-in-law practically at the same time.”
For the first time, Douglas saw the resemblance between daughter and father, or perhaps he simply wanted to see it. Those eyes of hers were cold and dark with rage and purpose. “I watched you slap Jason on the back, acknowledging that you knew he’d had his pleasure with me. I would have liked to stick a knife in your heart at that moment.”
Marie Flanders said, her eyes on that closed door, “Damnation, I should have realized this sooner. His fine lordship here was baiting his trap last night. There is no more information that you’re waiting for in Eastbourne, is there?”
Judith said, “It doesn’t matter. He’s a fool, as are his sons. There is no trap. You’re wrong, Aunt Marie.”
“No, I’m not. Why do you think he kept inquiring about Lady Arbuckle? He was pushing us to act. And that note he sent me, telling me Hollis wouldn’t be here today. It was to lure me here, lure me into acting.”
Judith shook her head. “You give him too much credit. Fact is, I didn’t really pay attention to what he said. I had to give Jason my attention or he would have wondered what was going on. Do you know, my lord, I really preferred James. But Corrie already had him by the collar.”
Douglas never took his eyes off the two women. “James didn’t realize that until-well, that isn’t any of your business is it?”
“No, and I don’t care. Aunt Marie, I’m bored. I wish to get this over with. I don’t wish to kill any of the servants. They’ve been quite kind to me, so we will do it here, now, and slip out through the gardens.”
Douglas said slowly, “Both of you have much to answer for.”
“If ever we answer, my lord, you will not be here to hear it.”
Douglas called out, “James, Ollie, signal your men. Come in now.”
But James didn’t come from his post behind the glass doors. Neither did Ollie Trunk.
Jason walked slowly into the estate room, his arm at his side, a gun held loosely in his hand. “James is missing, Father.”
Douglas looked at Judith. “Where is my son?”
“Why, my lord, he’s with my dear brother.”
JAMES FELT THE trickle of blood slide down his face. His head hurt from the blow, but his brain was clear. He could think, he could understand, and what he both saw and understood was a young man he’d never seen before, a young man who was tall and well-made, dark-haired and dark-eyed, and this young man wanted to kill him.
James shook his head, started to get to his feet.
The man said, “No, stay right where you are. Ah, I see you’ve got your wits together again.” He stood, walked to James, and stood over him. “Hello, brother. It’s such a pleasure to finally meet you face-to-face.”
James looked up at him, saw the gun in his right hand leveled at his chest. “You’ve kept yourself hidden very well. You’re Georges Cadoudal’s son, aren’t you? We were right about that.”
“Yes, he was my father, at least in name.”
James understood a great deal in that moment, but it still didn’t make any sense. “You seem to believe that my father sired you. You weren’t terribly subtle what with using Douglas Sherbrooke as your name. What is your real name?”
“Douglas Sherbrooke is quite real enough.”