A Question for Harry (39 page)

The bullet sounded as Ramsay hit him, throwing off his balance
. They hit the bannister as one and it splintered under their combined weight. With nothing to stop them, they fell to the hard wood floors below.

Aylesbury gasped at the pain that engulfed him
. Rolling Ramsay off of him, he struggled for a breath. Nothing. His chest and hands were covered with blood, his mind clouded, dulled. He struggled for consciousness but darkness closed in.

Another breath.

No.

Bugger it.

Aylesbury pictured Fiona as she had looked that day. Bright as summer time and a merry smile all wrapped up in prim ivory linen with some jaw-dropping garments, no doubt, hidden beneath, waiting to be unwrapped.

The image faded to black
. He would not have the chance to find out.

He had lost her.

Chapter
Forty-Five

From the journal of the Marquis of Aylesbury – Apr 1893

The sunshine is gone from my life … in more ways than one.

Fiona cried out as she heard the shots sounding. They seemed to sing a sickening refrain through the canopied oaks, pealing like a death toll. The thunder of hoof beats faded away and even the wind stilled as if to hear the ghastly melody.

Again and again they rang out until the leaves hanging over them were
atremble, but they might have been steady as a rock compared to Fiona’s heart. Horror-struck with dread, she clung to Connor’s arm as she yelled to her brother. “Hurry, Colin! For God’s sake, hurry!”

Coli
n’s jaw was set determinedly as he whipped up the horses, then he was pulling the bellowing animals to a halt behind the phaeton she and Harry had stolen from the streets of Aylesbury a lifetime before.

One last shot rang out
. Echoing.

Connor was out of the carriage and running toward the
gatehouse even before the reverberation faded away and Fiona rushed to follow. “No!” Connor yelled back. “Stay back!” But he must have known such a command would be useless. “Colin, hold her!”

Then he was gone into the gatehouse as
Colin caught Fiona around the waist and lifted her off her feet.

They watched the door, but no one came out
.

No sound emerged.

With renewed energy, Fiona kicked nothing but air and clawed at her brother’s hands, crying for Colin to let her go but he held fast. “Let me go!” she screamed.

“Blossom, shh,” he whispered in her ear.

Seconds
… no! An eternity later Connor appeared at the door and Fiona stilled.

Alone.

Come on, Harry, she inwardly begged, staring at the empty portal. Come out. Come out.
Please
.

Colin
’s hold eased but Fiona clung to his hands as Connor met her eyes somberly. God, Connor was never so solemn! But there was real regret in his eyes. “Blossom …”

Fiona shook her head in denial and looked back at the door.

But
it remained dark.

No, it couldn’t be.

It couldn’t be.

Harry was too strong
. Too alive. He was …
hers
.

Pain engulfed her,
stealing her breath away. Pain, like nothing she had ever experienced. Every fiber of her being burned, seared with the agony that radiated out from her heart. How could this be? How could she lose him when she had just found him again?

Tears began to run unbidden down her cheeks as she stared at that empty door
. Oh God, she prayed, begged silently. Please. Please.

It couldn’t be
. It couldn’t be.

Fiona began to struggle in earnest for her release
and Colin let her go. She ran toward the building, stumbling along the way.

“Fiona! Don’t!” Connor shouted and started to run after her as well but
this time Colin held him back.

“Don’t
. Let her go.”

“But
…”

“God, man,” Colin said
, choking up. “Can you even imagine?”

Connor shook his head. “No.”

Colin swallowed painfully picturing the utter devastation on his sister’s face. “I can.”

Together they watched their sister
tripping up the front steps before she disappeared through the darkened portal.

Silence reigned.

Then an awful keening of absolute despair that was enough to tear at the heart of even the most hardened of men filled the air. Colin’s eyes burned with tears.

“No-o-o-o!”

Chapter Forty-Six

From the diary of Lady Fiona MacKintosh – April 1893

Harry is gone.

I fear
I will never see him again.

He was truly gone, Fiona thought, lifting her head from where she had collapsed on the floor after seeing Harry’s body resting in a pool of blood.

Tears choking her, she pushed herself up and crawled the rest of the way until she was at his side
. Turning about, she gently lifted his head into her lap. “I’m s-sorry, Harry. So sorry,” her quaking words were hoarse with emotion. “None of this should have happened. I should have left you alone before. I shouldn’t have pushed so hard.”

I should have been content to move on
. If I had I would have wed long ago, I would never have met Ramsay
, she thought. Fiona cast a dark glance at the other body lying nearby and shuddered. I would never have led him to you. This would never have happened.

“It’
s all my fault.” Her tears rained unreservedly as she bent over him, pressing her trembling lips to his forehead. “I love you, Harry,” she choked out, kissing him again. “I do. I’m sorry I didn’t say it before.”

Harry had been right
. She hadn’t known what she had. Fiona thought she had, thought she knew what real loss felt like. But she had only lost Harry’s presence, not his person. It had never been so permanent. Even after their initial flight from Crumpsky and the fight in the alley, she had thought she considered the worst of it. She was wrong.

There was nothing to compare.

Fiona brushed his dark hair from his temples in soothing strokes. He was so beautiful. She couldn’t believe that she would never again see his blue eyes fill with humor.

With love.

It was wrong, so utterly wrong.

And she just couldn’t accept it.

Harry was too strong and she was
… she was just too stubborn to accept it. Harry had always said so.

“No!”
she gasped gruffly, shaking her head and then again, louder. “No! I won’t have it! Wake up, Harry!” She patted his cheeks but gained no response. “Come on, Harry!” she yelled hoarsely into his serene countenance. Her throat constricted around the plea as tears fell like raindrops on his face. “Come on!” she begged desperately.

Fiona slapped him then
. And again. “Come on!” Harder. “
Come on
!”

“Fiona!” Colin shouted and then was by her side, trying to pull her gently away but Fiona
slapped him away and hit Harry again. Colin pulled at her more forcefully.

“Bugger it, Fiona,” Connor yelled
anxiously. “He’s gone!”

“No
!” The cry was wrenched from deep within her and Fiona threw her fists down on Harry’s chest, her entire weight sagging over him as sobs of grief shook her.

Colin’s arms came around her
again and lifted her away and this time Fiona fell back, agony racking her body as she turned to cling to her brother.

Her shattered sobs filled the silence.

… then Harry breathed.

The three of them froze in astonishment at the short, ragged intake
. Then nothing. Fiona was almost certain she had imagined it when there was another gurgle.

A gasp.

Then Fiona was at his side again, slapping his face and calling his name. He coughed and almost gagged, so with Colin’s help, Fiona rolled Harry to his side and pounded his back. He heaved weakly and struggled to drag in another labored breath. Another hacking exhale and the next intake came easier.

Letting him roll back over, Fiona took his h
ead in her lap once more and patted his cheek more mildly. “Harry? Harry?”

His eyelids
flickered and closed. “Why must you always beat me so?”

Fiona could barely hear the weakly spoken words but chuckled through her tears and sniffed, running the back of her hand across her eyes
. “Why do you make me? I try so hard to be nice to you.”

Harry’s chest quaked with might have been an attempt at laughter but then
groaned and tried to roll to the side, but Fiona urged him to lie back. “Careful, Harry, you’ve been shot.”

He stilled and sighed
. “Have I? I can’t…”  He lifted a hand to his chest. “I don’t think so.”

“You’re covered in blood!”

Harry drew in another breath and relaxed. “His.”

Colin and Connor were bent over him then, opening Harry’s jacket, vest and shirt
. “He’s got one, looks like it got him in the ribs.” Colin probed and Harry cried hoarsely in pain. “More than a few broken ribs I think. Two are bad. I hope he didn’t puncture a lung.”

“He fell on me
. Damn near crushed me. Couldn’t breathe.”

“I think you’ll live, Aylesbury,” Colin said
, though relief was evident in his voice.

“Oh, Harry!” Fiona moaned, cradl
ing him against her. “How could you do this? How could you risk yourself like that?”

“Because I love you
. Always will.”

“Oh, Harry!” she whispered, pressing
her lips to his forehead. “I love you, too.”

Aylesbury released a breath that might have been a laugh
. God it hurt to breathe, to move. To think. But he wouldn’t have traded that moment for anything. “You sure I’m not dead?”

Fiona laughed too between her tears
. “You heard me. I love you, Harry Brudenall. It’s always been you.”

Aylesbury closed his eyes again
. “’Bout time.”

Bending her cheek next to his, Fiona
murmured her love to him over and over. As if once said, she couldn’t say it enough. She would never lose the opportunity again. “I love you, Harry. I’m so sorry. So sorry I took so long to admit.  I was just so afraid.”

“Afraid?”

Fiona nodded, framing his dear face between her hands.  “Afraid that we wouldn’t be able to find everything I longed for together.  Afraid that it wouldn’t be perfect.  I know now that it won’t be perfect because we aren’t either.”

Aylesbury made a choking sound close to laughter and Fiona, too, sniffed back her tears with a watery chuckle.  “All right, you’re perfect, but I’m not.  I argue too much, I’m too independent.  I’ve made so many mistakes and I almost waited too long to try and make them right.  I’m so, so sorry.”

“Stop apologizing. Can’t take it. Just not right coming from you.”

“I’m sorry.”

They shared a smile and Fiona brushed the tears from her cheeks one last time. “I love you, Harry.  I truly do.”

“I love you, too, darling girl.”

“I know you said you wouldn’t mention it again so I have a question for you, Harry.”

“Yes.”

“I haven’t even asked yet!”

“Just put the ring on the
right finger and kiss me, won’t you?”

To his amazement, Fiona did what he asked without an argument.

“Now will you get me out of this blood bath?”