Authors: Olivia Drake
Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Historical, #Historical Fiction, #Regency, #Romance Fiction, #Historical Romance, #Regency Romance, #Victorian, #Nineteenth Century, #bestseller, #E.L. James, #Adult Fiction, #50 Shaedes of Gray, #Liz Carlyle, #Loretta Chase, #Stephanie Laurens, #Barbara Dawson Smith
Shadows danced on the crimson hangings and shivered in the corners. Hands in his pockets, Kent paced a restive circle of the sitting room. His gaze strayed to Rose’s door, which stood ajar. His sister would recover. And Juliet was safe, he told himself for the tenth time. Yet to have her gone from his sight made him nervous as a cat.
Drat Rose and her untimely outburst! He’d felt so close to ferreting out the murderer. He’d sensed fear like a tangible presence in the air. The killer’s fear of being found out. Now the perception had vanished along with the suspects.
He crossed paths with Emmett, who strode back and forth before the darkened windows. “What the hell’s taking Chantal so long?” Kent growled.
Lifting his broad shoulders in a distracted shrug, Emmett toyed with his handlebar mustache. “I’ve been thinking about the past, Kent.”
“What about it?”
Emmett frowned at Chantal’s open door, then took a step toward Rose’s room. “There’s something I’d nearly forgotten. Something that might ...”
“Might what?”
“Might have a bearing on the murderer’s identity.”
Kent felt his every nerve jolt. “What is it?”
“It involves a vow of secrecy I made to Chantal long ago.” Emmett drew a heavy breath. “But for Juliet’s safety, I must break that vow. You see, Chantal’s mother spent years in a lunatic asylum. She died about the time Emily was born.”
Kent stared. “I never knew that.”
“Chantal never told anyone but me. She was afraid William would disdain her for her bad blood. She confided in me only because she needed my help in paying for her mother’s treatment.”
A chill sped through Kent, leaving his mouth dry and his palms damp. “Madness...”
“Can be inherited,” Emmett finished.
The two men looked at each other. In whom had the bad seed been planted?
Chantal hastened out of the bedroom. Her shawl hung askew and her mouth drooped with worry. “I’ve found the salts at last. Had to rummage through every drawer of my dressing table.”
She swept toward her daughter’s bedroom. Kent grasped her arm. “You’re not going in there alone,” he snapped.
“Why not?” Her blue eyes widened. “What’s happened? Oh, dear heaven... did Rose...”
“Did Rose what?”
She parted her lips. Candlelight wavered across her stark features. Fear shone in her gaze. A mother’s fear. A sane fear...
With sudden sickening certainty, Kent knew the truth.
At the same instant, realization dawned on Emmett’s face. In grim unison they swung toward the bedroom.
The door shut with a quiet click. Immediately came the chilling grate of a bolt sliding home.
Juliet stood transfixed by the insane glow in those brown eyes. Just as Dreamspinner glowed with a deadly life.
Understanding deluged her in sickening dread. Rose was the killer. Rose had plotted her death...
Furious beating sounded on the door. “Juliet!” came Kent’s muffled voice. “Juliet, answer me!”
Then her father’s hoarse voice: “Princess, talk to me! Are you all right?”
Sensing that she mustn’t show fear, she called, “I’m fine.”
Annoyance contorted Rose’s girlish features. “Go away, both of you! Kent, this has nothing to do with you.”
More pounding. “Rose, open this door!”
Sadness drew on her lips. “He never understood,” she murmured, shaking her head so that the dark hair swirled around her loosened gown. “Twice now he’s let himself be led astray.”
Silence came from without. What were the men doing?
Wiping damp palms on her skirt, Juliet tried to think. Could she overpower Rose? Perhaps if she kept the girl talking, Kent could find a way to get the door opened.
“You’re the person who struck Papa today,” she said. “And you pushed Emily to her death.”
Rose’s gaze wavered for an instant. “She forced me to it. I caught her stealing out of the library with Dreamspinner.” Her lip curled in disgust. “She admitted that she intended to disobey Kent and give the necklace to her dear Papa, to win his favor. I couldn’t let her do that.”
Give the necklace to Papa.
So that was the secret action Emily had intended. Juliet’s heart ached for the noble Emily.
Rose must have lured her sister onto the parapet.
Imagining Emily struggling in terror made Juliet’s blood run cold. “She was the duchess. The jewels were hers to dispose of as she wished.”
With the tenderness of a lover, Rose caressed the necklace. “Dreamspinner belongs to the Deverells. Father deemed it so.” Eyes hardening, she took a step forward. “Emmett Carleton came here today to talk you into giving him the necklace.”
“That isn’t true. He came to end the feud—”
A powerful thudding shook the door. Kent! The solid oak panel held firm. Fear tasting acrid in her mouth, Juliet knew she must rely on her own wits.
“Kent will let you keep the necklace. Unlock the door, Rose. He only wants to help you.”
“No, he’s fallen under your spell.” A curious blackness descended over her face. Reaching into her pocket, she drew forth a dagger. “I’m sorry, Juliet. I wanted to like you, and for a time I did. Then I saw the truth. I can’t let a Carleton’s blood defile the Deverell line. I can’t let you give away Dreamspinner, either.”
The blade glinting in the lamplight, she walked closer.
Pity snaked around the icy horror inside Juliet. Rose truly believed in her own righteousness...
The door hinges groaned but held under Kent’s repeated strikes. Juliet knew with dreadful surety that she dare not wait.
She took a step backward; her thighs met the hard edge of the desk. Wildly she looked around for a weapon. Her hands closed on a silver inkwell behind her.
“You’re making a mistake,” she said, forcing calmness into her voice. “You see, Dreamspinner is only a clever forgery. Augusta sold the real stones years ago.”
Dagger upraised, Rose stopped. Confusion clouded her big brown eyes. “You’re lying.”
“Pry one of the stones out of its mounting,” Juliet said swiftly. “They’re green glass, not emeralds. There’s probably paint on the underside to enhance the color.”
Blinking uncertainly, Rose looked down at the necklace. Juliet seized the chance and hurled the inkpot.
It struck Rose’s arm. Black ink drenched her gray sleeve. Squealing, she dropped the knife. The blade went skittering under the bed.
Juliet dove for the small door. Wrenching it open, she dashed outside. A cool wind blew her hair. The moon shone through a haze of clouds, casting shadows on the narrow walkway, on the toothlike embrasures.
Alarm dried her throat. The parapet where Emily had died...
Sobbing in desperation, she pounded over the stone flags. The stairs. She must reach the stairs leading down to the courtyard.
A heavy weight thrust her off balance. Her back slammed against the hard surface of an embrasure. Wiry arms thrust her toward the edge. She caught a dizzying glimpse of the wall sweeping downward to the glimmering river and the rocky bank.
Terror tore a scream from her throat. She sobbed and struggled. Rose pushed with the iron strength of a madwoman. The drop loomed before Juliet. She scrabbled frantically for purchase. The limestone crumbled to dust in her fingers...
Heedless of the pain numbing his shoulder, Kent thrust again and again at the door. With grunts of fury, Emmett applied his own shoulder to the task. The hinges creaked ominously. Yet still the oaken door held despairingly firm.
An idea sprang into Kent’s beleaguered brain. “The courtyard,” he gasped out. “There’s a stairway leading to the parapet... another door into the bedroom.”
Giving a grim nod, Emmett ran out.
“Oh, dear God,” moaned Chantal, wringing her hands. “This is all my fault. I didn’t want to let myself believe...”
A scream echoed faintly. Juliet.
Please, God. Don’t take my love from me again.
The grisly image of her lying in a pool of blood gave his aching muscles renewed power. In desperation he battered the door. The hinges screeched. With an earsplitting crash, the panel gave way.
Rushing through the opening, he glanced around the room. Empty. The parapet door stood ajar. He dashed outside. Down the walkway, moonlight gilded a dark-haired woman leaning over an embrasure.
Rose. Maniacal fervency lit her features. Christ! She’d thrust Juliet half off the wall.
He ran. Gravel sprayed from beneath his feet. Tears of fear misted his eyes. His shoulder burned with each jarring step.
Juliet began to slip downward. Over his own sobbing breaths, he heard her gasp. She snatched futilely at the powdery stone.
No
...
no
...
no. Not again. Not again.
He shoved at Rose; she went staggering back. In the same swift motion he seized Juliet under the arms and yanked her to him.
He buried his face in the fragrant tumble of her hair. His heart thudded. Oh, God, he’d almost lost his beloved Juliet... and their precious baby.
She gulped in air and clutched limply at his shoulders. “Kent... oh, Kent. You’re here.”
“Yes, darling,” he crooned. “You’re safe now. I love you.”
“Don’t!” Rose cried shrilly. “You can’t love a Carleton.”
He lifted his head. Renewed panic stiffened his muscles. A distance down the parapet, his sister had scrambled onto an embrasure. Moonlight silvered her slim figure and glinted off Dreamspinner.
“Stop her!” Chantal cried, from behind. “Kent, she’ll fall!”
Releasing Juliet, he darted toward Rose. At the same instant, Emmett pounded up the stairs and emerged onto the walkway. Closer to the girl, he lunged at her and grasped her skirt.
“You’ll never have Dreamspinner!” she screamed. “I’ll take it with me into eternity!”
She yanked hard; her gown ripped. Almost calmly, she stepped off the wall. Moonlight gleamed on her fanatical expression, on the glass stones of the necklace. Arms flailing, she fell from sight.
Kent froze. Darkness spun before his eyes. A kaleidoscope of images flashed inside his head. Rose sitting a horse for the first time. Rose crouched adoringly at their father’s knee. Rose standing witness at Emily’s wedding...
Oh, God. Oh, God. His sister. His little sister.
A soft embrace surrounded him. Juliet. Sagging against her, he let her warmth seep into him. Tears slid down his icy cheeks. Her murmured words of comfort glided over him, over the vast raw wound inside him.
“It wasn’t your fault,” she said. “You couldn’t have known. There’s nothing you could have done.”
Chantal’s weeping shivered through the night air. “My daughter. If only I’d not blinded myself...”
Emmett gazed down at Rose’s body on the rocks below. Slowly he turned away and gathered Chantal close.
“You gave her a mother’s love,” he said heavily. “It was the feud, the hatred, that twisted her.”
“But it’s over now,” Juliet whispered. “The feud is ended.”
The words penetrated the dark well of Kent’s despair. The love in her eyes struck him with a healing ray of hope. Holding her tight, he took a fierce breath.
“Yes,” he said. “The hatred is over forever.”
Epilogue
The lusty howl of an infant echoed through the cave.
Sunlight jeweled by stained glass shone on the party gathered around the marble christening font. The vicar finished pouring the water and hastily handed the small, squalling bundle to its godmother. Maud Hammond-Gore gathered the baby against the gentle mound of her belly, jiggled her a moment until the sobs lulled, then passed the child to her wide-eyed husband.
Standing at Kent’s side, Juliet stood on tiptoe and whispered, “Henry looks terrified, don’t you think?”
“It’s good practice for him,” he murmured close to her ear. “He’ll soon discover the joys of fatherhood.”
His hand closed around hers, imbuing her with his steady warmth and solid security. In dreamy contentment, she listened to the vicar intone the closing prayers. Then the group filed out of the tiny church and into the June sunshine.
Henry promptly handed the baby to Juliet. “Er... I believe this is yours.”
Maud squinted proudly at the baby. “She is a beauty, isn’t she?”