By Love Unveiled (35 page)

“Have you anything to tell us, Aunt Bess?” Garett asked gently.

When Lady Tearle glanced in Sir Pitney’s direction, an expression of pure terror crossed her face. Garett left Marianne and her father to stand beside his aunt. “Don’t let him intimidate you,” he told her, taking one of her hands in his. “He can’t hurt you now, I swear it. No matter what happens here and what is revealed, I won’t let him harm you.”

She hesitated, her free hand resting on her stomach. Then she looked at Sir Pitney again. She swallowed, and her gaze swung back to Garett, but she wouldn’t meet his eyes. “I-I don’t know anything, my lord,” she whispered.

The king stood to his full height. “Lady Tearle,” he said in somber tones. “You are in the presence of your king. Lies will not be tolerated.”

She seemed desperately torn. At one point, she looked to Marianne, and Marianne gave her a reassuring smile.

“Aunt Bess?” Garett asked again.

Then Sir Pitney bellowed, “I’ll not have you harass my wife in this fashion, Falkham! She’s with child. If she loses her child because of this absurd assertion—”

“Just as I lost my father and mother because of your greed?” Garett bit out. Everyone in the room began to whisper. Even the king seemed stunned.

“Think you that I don’t know who killed them?” Garett continued, his eyes boring into his uncle’s. “I well remember Father telling me that you had suggested the route because it was so swift. You were the only one who knew. You were the only one who could have betrayed them to the soldiers.”

Lady Tearle gasped and went limp, but Garett caught her up swiftly. “Garett,” she muttered, so low that the room fell silent as everyone tried to catch her words. “H-he told me he didn’t know they were even leaving until after they fled.”

“He knew,” Garett asserted. “I thought you knew as well.”

That seemed to shock her out of her faint. “No! I knew nothing of this until now!” She walked clumsily to the center of the room and pointed at her husband. “You killed them, didn’t you? You always wanted Richard’s lands. I heard you say so often enough even before they were murdered. You killed my own brother! What kind of monster are you?”

“He’s lying, Bess. Don’t listen to him,” Sir Pitney said in steely tones. “Remember what I told you! Think of the babe!”

“You’ll never see that babe! The child isn’t even yours!” she spat. “And I’ll not have him raised by the likes of you!” She faced the king. “Your Majesty, my nephew speaks the truth, as does this poor innocent man here and his daughter. My husband planned the poisoning so he could regain my family home. I only learned of it recently, however—”

“She lies!” Sir Pitney shouted. “She had as much to do with it as I! She took part in it, I swear!”

“And have you proof?” Garett asked. “Nay, I think not. She’s just another innocent you’d have take the punishment for your crimes.”

Lady Tearle continued, her eyes dark with hate. “I have proof, Your Majesty, of my husband’s treachery. If you’ll send your guards for a man named Ashton in my husband’s house, you may persuade him to confess how it was done. He’s my husband’s servant, and I heard him say he planted the poison himself.”

“I’ll kill you for this, you ungrateful bitch!” Sir Pitney cried.

“Seize him!” His Majesty ordered the guards, and they started toward Sir Pitney.

Before anyone could stop him, Sir Pitney withdrew a short sword and lunged toward Marianne where she stood beside her father. In seconds, he had his arm about her waist and the sword at her neck.

“If anyone tries to seize me, she dies!” he bellowed as he began dragging her toward the door.

Marianne leaned back against Sir Pitney, away from the threatening blade.

Garett unsheathed his own sword with a loud clang. “Harm one hair of her head, Uncle, and I’ll slice you into so many bits they’ll never find them all! Let her go!”

Marianne felt the sword point quiver at her throat.

“Nay!” Sir Pitney called out, backing away with her until he neared the door. “I’ll see her dead before I let them take me, you worthless cur!”

He tried to pull Marianne back more, but she planted her feet, fighting him. If he took her from the room, all hope was lost. “Kill me now, then,” she hissed.

“No, Mina!” Garett and her father shouted, but she ignored them. Forcing his hand was her only chance.

“I’ll not go anywhere with you,” she told him when she felt him hesitate. “Go ahead, kill me. But be prepared to die afterward, for you know Garett will never let you live.”

Garett stood poised, his face pale as death as he kept his eyes on the sword at Marianne’s neck.

“Don’t be a fool,” Sir Pitney muttered, then pressed the blade against her flesh so it bit into the skin, and blood trickled down her neck.

Garett’s face contorted with rage, but Marianne remained calm.

“That’s just a prick!” she taunted him. “Kill me. Kill me, I say, for you’ll not get me out of here otherwise!”

For one terrible moment, she thought he would. She held her breath, wondering, as his arm tightened on her waist and the sword pressed even closer, if she had risked too much. Then, without warning, the blade left her neck and she was pushed hard in Garett’s direction. She stumbled to the floor as Sir Pitney lunged for the entrance. But two soldiers stepped to block his path, their swords at the ready.

Sir Pitney whirled around and darted toward another door, but this time it was Garett who blocked his path.

“Time to give up the fight,” Garett said, brandishing his sword.

“Never!” Like a cornered rat, Sir Pitney thrust at Garett.

Marianne screamed, but she needn’t have worried. Garett sidestepped his uncle’s thrust easily, throwing his uncle temporarily off balance. But Sir Pitney regained his footing and held his sword once again before him with grim purpose.

“I wish they’d murdered you instead of that servant,” he spat. “You should have died with your parents. I don’t know how you escaped, but you couldn’t have been there, or you would have been killed, too. Haven’t you ever wondered if they suffered? I could tell you—”

Garett’s angry thrust cut off Sir Pitney’s taunts, but Sir Pitney parried it with ease.

“Your mother begged at the end,” Sir Pitney continued. “They told me that she begged and begged.”

Oh, Lord, he was attempting to make Garett slip and let down his guard if only for a second, but apparently Garett realized the same thing, for his face suddenly grew expressionless.

“Mother never begged for anything,” he retorted. “But when I’m through with you, you’ll beg. Like you’ve been begging at the doors of every merchant in town, every moneylender, every—”

Sir Pitney lunged wildly, his face mottled with rage. But Garett sidestepped the thrust, at the same time falling to one knee and bringing his sword up through Sir Pitney’s chest.

For a moment, the two seemed suspended in space, Sir Pitney gazing at Garett with shock and horror as the
sword tumbled from his fingers, and Garett staring at him with the same frightening expression.

Then Garett withdrew his sword, and Sir Pitney fell to his knees.

“A wretch to the end,” Sir Pitney croaked out, and Marianne wondered if he meant Garett or himself.

Then he collapsed lifeless on the floor.

There’s nought but willing, waking love that can

Make blest the ripened maid and finished man.

—William Congreve,
Love for Love

C
haos ensued. Soldiers swarmed around Garett and the body at his feet. Lady Tearle stood in shock as the king started from his chair and went to her side. And Father moved quickly to enfold Marianne in his arms.

“It’s all over now, Mina,” he murmured, pulling her limp form against him.

She let him hold her a moment, wanting to soak up the comfort he offered. But she couldn’t long keep her gaze from Garett, who stood surrounded by soldiers. His face showed no relief—only a deep, dark pain.

The king motioned for a soldier to lead Lady Tearle from the room, and she went willingly. Then he went over to Garett and the captain of the guard. They spoke a few moments in hushed tones. After that, two soldiers carried Sir Pitney away as servants scurried to clean the blood from the marble.

Tears slid down Marianne’s cheeks. So much blood. So much sorrow, for Garett more than for her. She
watched Garett as he scanned the room until his eyes locked with hers, a tender light replacing the sorrow on his face. What was to become of their love? Garett had said he’d never leave her. Still, he’d never promised to marry her, either.

He made his way toward her and Father. As he reached them, he looked lost, as if he thought he didn’t belong there. Father loosened his hold, although he kept one arm protectively about her waist.

“Thank you for bringing my little girl back to me,” he told Garett. “I nearly died when I thought she’d been killed.”

Marianne felt a quick stab of remorse. “I wouldn’t have let you believe such lies, Father, if I’d known you were alive. I would never have left you alone in the Tower.”

“Then ’tis a good thing his lordship didn’t tell you about me,” her father said in a voice choked with emotion. “Otherwise, we’d both be there together now.”

“I doubt that,” the king said behind them. “I could never have imprisoned your pretty daughter. Once the soldiers brought her here for my questioning and she turned that innocent clear-eyed gaze on me, I’d immediately have known she spoke the truth.”

Marianne pulled back from her father to flash the king a shy smile. Darting a sideways glance at Garett, she said, “Your Majesty is kind, but I don’t think ’twould have been that simple. It certainly wasn’t with Lord Falkham. He had trouble believing me even when I did confess the truth.”

The flash of contrition that crossed Garett’s face made Marianne wish to take the words back.

“Miss Winchilsea is right,” he said. “I’m afraid I’ve grown suspicious of everyone through the years, even innocent young noblewomen. But it was unkind of me not to tell her about her father. I should have trusted her with that much.”

The intent gaze with which he regarded her warmed Marianne to the bone. For a moment, she forgot about anyone else in the room. “ ’Tis of no consequence now, my lord.”

“You realize you’ve all put me in a terrible quandary,” the king interjected with a wry frown. “Lord Falkham and Sir Henry both legally own Falkham House now that Sir Henry has been cleared of all wrongdoing. So who will retain it?”

“That should be no problem, Your Majesty,” Father said with a wink at Marianne. “Lord Falkham and I solved the matter before he left my jail cell.”

“Oh?” the king asked. “And what solution do you propose?”

“I think first I should speak with—” Garett began.

“I only intended to keep the estate as my legacy to my daughter,” Father went on. “I prefer to remain in London if Your Majesty will allow me to return as your physician. His lordship can retain Falkham House, which in any case is rightfully his. What’s more, I need not worry about Marianne’s legacy, because his lordship has agreed to marry her, which should take care of the problem admirably.”

Marianne’s mouth went completely dry. Her eyes widened as she glanced at Garett in clear surprise. Garett watched her, a guarded expression on his face.

“We’ve already briefly discussed the settlement,” her father continued, “and I believe we can come to some amicable agreement without much problem.”

“Now that is an expert solution,” the king remarked. “And I must say it would please me to see one of my favorite subjects married to such a beautiful, brave young woman.”

Marianne scarcely noted the compliment, for her heart was pounding. Marry Garett? That would be as close to heaven as she could reach.

Then the rest of her father’s words sank in. Garett would have Falkham House, of course.

Doubt assailed her. Surely that had played no part in his agreeing to marry her. Then again, Garett always got what he wanted, and he wanted Falkham House very badly.

“Have I no say in this, Father?” she asked. “Am I to be married just like that without even being consulted, merely to solve the problem of an estate with two owners?”

Her father looked instantly uncomfortable. Another man might have told her she would do as he said because he was her father, but Father had always been a more lenient sort. “But I thought—”

He broke off at the sound of the king’s loud chortle. “This is very interesting, Falkham. Apparently the lady doesn’t care about your superior title and ever-increasing
wealth.” He turned to Marianne. “Don’t you wish to marry Lord Falkham?”

She reddened as Garett’s face turned stony. She hadn’t meant to embarrass him, but she couldn’t marry him if he wanted her only for the estate.

The king’s eyes darkened, and his smile vanished. “He didn’t force his attentions on you, did he?”

“Attentions?” her father queried with a frown, for he hadn’t been present during the earlier discussion about her being Garett’s mistress.

“No, no, Your Majesty,” she hastened to assure him as she avoided her father’s gaze. “Of course not. But I would have wished—”

“Your Majesty,” Garett interrupted. “If I could have a moment alone with Miss Winchilsea, I believe we could clear up any misunderstandings.”

“Could you indeed?” the king remarked, immensely amused. “All right, then. That is, if the lady so wishes to remain with you here.”

“Marianne?” Father asked. “May his lordship speak with you alone a moment?”

“Of course.” If Garett spoke of the financial advantages their union would bring, it would destroy her. Yet the way he looked at her . . .

She would eternally regret it if she didn’t allow him to state his case.

The king accompanied her father from the room, speaking to him in low whispers interspersed with the occasional chuckle. Then she and Garett were alone, the room completely silent.

She gazed down at her hands, uncertain where to begin. “My lord, you mustn’t feel it’s necessary to marry me to keep Falkham House. I know what my father said, but I don’t want it, and I’d be more than content to live here in London with him.”