The Vengeful Bridegroom (16 page)

Alec surprised Gabriel with her appearance midday while he worked in his study on plans for acquiring new shipments from the West Indies.

“Mr. Westcott, may I speak with you?” Her Italian accent caught him unawares, and he looked up to find her in the entryway wearing a lovely white gown with a simple blue ribbon. He frowned, wondering why the change in dress, but thought no more on it because he was glad she had sought him out. They needed to have a conversation.

He stood and walked over to the door. “Please, come in. I wish to speak with you as well.” Gabriel escorted her to a wing chair before pulling the matching one near hers. “We have much to discuss. What is on your mind?”

The young woman smiled a shy smile and fluttered her fan. Expertly. When had she—This young lady was full of surprises. He’d forgotten her real name, Alessandra, and hadn’t called her by that name since their time together in Florence.

He thought about the young woman who had befriended him in Italy. Alec had been quite solicitous during his sister’s illness and final passing. Although surprised when she asked to accompany him to England, he had agreed. He had even promised to keep her secret about her gender and her understanding of English, to better hide from her uncle.

For the first several months, in Westcott Close and in London, he had treated her like a young sister, and she proved to be of much assistance preparing the nursery. The young woman was adamant about earning her keep, so he had Windthorp take her under his wing.

Her dramatic change occurred when they stayed in London while he completed his plans to marry Madelene. About a week before the hasty marriage was arranged, she turned a sour tongue and vanished for a day or two at a time, returning with no explanation as to her whereabouts. He had trusted her even after she showed a reluctance to travel with him to Shropshire. Indeed, the woman was more puzzlement than the sphinx.

“Mr. Westcott, I, I hope you can understand my English, but I am most grateful you have allowed me to stay here. You have been most welcoming, but I think perhaps I should return home. If you no longer have need for me.” She continued smiling at him.

A sense of relief swept over him. Alec could return to her life, and he and Madelene—“I know it was difficult to live with your uncle. Although I haven’t seen him in some time, do you have any reason to believe he has changed?”

Alec cast her eyes to the floor and shook her head. “I do not believe he has changed, but everything has changed with
us.
After you brought her here, to Westcott Close.” Her voice sounded different, almost angry from the soft tones she used moments past.

His brows knitted, he replied, “Mrs. Westcott? I told you about her in Florence and my plans to marry her.” He sat farther back in his chair to study the young woman.
Does she have feelings for me? But why?
I have never encouraged her that our friendship would be more, only offering her a place to stay while she decided her future. He was indeed grateful for the assistance and friendship she gave him while caring for Lucinda. But there could never have been more between them.

Alec leaned over to press her hand over his, resting on his thigh. “I remember our time in Florence together. I had hoped I had come to mean more to you. You would forget about these plans to marry that English girl. We could be happy with the dagger.”

A knock on the door prevented his response. “Mr. Westcott, I wanted to speak with you—” Madelene stopped inside the door, her eyes widened at seeing Alec with Gabriel.
In female clothing. With her hand on my husband’s hand.

“My dear, we were discussing our time in Italy together.” His explanation only fueled her temper.

“Yes, Mrs. Westcott, your husband and I have shared a lot together.”

Madelene watched the young woman slowly remove her hand from her husband’s. Redirecting her attention, Alec said to Mr. Westcott, “We’ll complete our conversation later,” then rose from her chair to walk to the door.

Madelene gritted her teeth, Alec’s complete change in appearance not lost on her. She would be a fool to not think the young girl flirted with her husband. But what did the young girl want more—the dagger or her husband?

Madelene and Gabriel ignored the young woman’s departure.

“Mrs. Westcott, what was it you wished to see me about?” he asked while returning to his desk.

A nearby chair presented Madelene with welcome support, which she fell into. And deliberated about the little scene she had witnessed. “Mr. Westcott, you never have exactly explained your relationship with Alec or whatever her name is.”

Gabriel cleared his throat. “Her real name is Alessandra. And as for our relationship, nothing untoward at all. She was simply a friend to my sister and me during our stay in Florence.”

“I see.” She didn’t, but an idea occurred to her to judge his sentiments of the girl. “It seems quite a time has passed since she was home in her own country. Perhaps it would be an excellent time for her to return?”

Leaning back in his chair, he studied Madelene and shook his head. “What a coincidence. Alec was actually here to advise me she is planning to return to her home as soon as this other matter can be settled.”

“You mean the dagger?” Madelene interjected.

“Yes, there is still much to sort out about this business.”

“It, it doesn’t alter anything for tonight? You haven’t changed your mind about giving my brother the dagger?”

“No, but something tells me that we are all pursuing the same end.”

Frowning, she inquired, “You mentioned this previously. Whatever could you mean?”

“I hope to better explain after tonight.”

“Where could she be?” Matthew asked himself again as he paced the small clearing off the road to Ludlow, only a mile from Westcott Close. Brelford, like a good chap, waited back at the inn for Matthew to return. Once they had the dagger, they planned to head for London as fast as the fastest carriage could convey them.

Hardly able to believe his luck, he felt great relief upon receiving Madelene’s note to meet him here tonight. She had the dagger in her possession. Matthew could finally leave this small village for the excitement of Town and more wealth in his pockets, after he returned the meddle-some sharp stick. He couldn’t estimate its value.

It must be close to one o’clock in the morning.
The moon acted as a beacon, brightening the night. Why his sister had chosen a different location, puzzled Matthew.
But I guess one cannot be too careful.

Even earlier this evening, the innkeeper told him that the village had had many more visitors than usual around this time of year. Since Matthew couldn’t trust the count, it could very well be Taglioni’s men here looking for the dagger.

Growing impatient, Matthew noticed a long, broken limb near the outline of the trees and sat down to wait. It seemed like an hour, but in truth, only twenty minutes had passed. A gentle breeze disturbed his hair. Not uncomfortably warm, Matthew still felt perspiration on his brow.

Alert to any and all sounds, he presumed Madelene had found a way to arrange a horse and carriage to meet him. Any moment now, he expected to hear a horse’s hooves and carriage wheels on the road.

His own borrowed dappled horse, King, tied to a tree, moved about restlessly. Could the horse sense something amiss? What could happen? In short order, he’d have the dagger in hand, then ride back to the inn. A beer would be very welcome taste on his palate along with the taste of success.

His hands clasped in front of him, propped on his thighs, he imagined the scene with Madelene. She would probably plead for him to take her with him again, perhaps even use tears for effect. But he could do nothing more for her. She was married. He still could not believe Gabriel Westcott had actually taken his sister for his wife, but so be it. She seemed well looked after. Truly, everything had turned out better than he had planned.

What was that? Very faint, almost like horse’s hooves, but no sound of carriage wheels. Matthew rose from his hard seat and pulled his pistol from his belt. If it wasn’t Madelene, it could be a highwayman. Who else would be traveling the road this late?

A lone horse and rider. Too far away to discern the identity. Matthew hid behind a thick bush near the clearing until he could be confident of whether this person meant him harm or not.

The moon shone on Gabriel Westcott’s face. Matthew frowned. What could this mean? Where was Madelene? Before he could contemplate further, he heard his name.

“Matthew Colgate. Are you here?” Westcott called. Matthew watched as his brother-in-law halted his horse and leaned across the pommel, searching the clearing.

Matthew hesitated. Westcott must have the dagger. Otherwise, why had he come and not Madelene? Was his enemy still in pursuit of some kind of revenge for his sister? If it was some type of trick, he would make Westcott pay. He stepped out from the tree. “Over here, Westcott.” Not trusting his sister’s husband, he kept his pistol steady in front of him.

Westcott dismounted, ignoring the pistol aimed at him, and led his horse to a nearby tree to tie him. He glanced over his shoulder at Matthew and shook his head. “No need for weapons.”

Impatient to get this meeting done, Matthew demanded, “Where is my sister? Why is she not here?” He remained in his stance, watchful of any sudden movement from his foe.

Shrugging, Westcott told him, “You wanted the dagger. I have the dagger. I decided it would be best if I meet you and give it to you. I thought it would be safer for your sister.”

Taken aback, he almost spewed, “Safer? I’m her brother. She couldn’t be safer in my presence.” Matthew replaced his pistol.

“I beg to differ. She is with me because of you and your wager. I’ve heard of some of your other schemes, too, from which, no doubt, she helped you avoid any uncomfortable consequences.

No, Madelene is definitely well protected back at Westcott Close. She is now my charge and no longer any concern of yours. And because she loves you and worries, like a sister does, she wanted to make sure you received this dagger.” He withdrew the silver-hued dagger and leather sheath from his coat pocket.

Although Matthew might have been affronted by Westcott’s words, they were quickly forgotten at the sight of the long sought-after dagger. He started toward it but stopped when Westcott spoke.

“I can only imagine you are planning to return this dagger to Count Taglioni.”

Matthew opened his mouth to speak but no words issued forth. How did he know who owned the dagger?

With a thin smile, Westcott informed him, “It wasn’t difficult to learn the owner’s name. I presume the count has also offered a sizable purse for its return.” Westcott stepped closer to Matthew, his hand outstretched with the sheathed dagger.

“On your sister’s behalf, I ask you to agree never to involve Madelene in any further schemes you might create for whatever reasons—most likely funds, I forecast.” His words sounded harsh, like a vow. “Do I have your promise Madelene will no longer be distressed over any future antics of yours?”

Before Matthew could reply, he saw movement over Westcott’s shoulder. His eyes widened in alarm. What was
he
doing here? In astonishment, he watched as the count hit Westcott with a heavy stick and knocked him to the ground, where he lay still.

“What, what are you doing here?” Matthew asked, his voice shaky. Why had he not insisted Brelford accompany him? It should have been so simple.

The count leaned down and picked up the dagger, which had fallen from Westcott’s hand to the leafy clearing. “You’ve been a piece of trouble,” he said to the dagger, pulling it out of its sheath and admiring the dull shine.

The night still held surprises. Matthew watched in amazement as the count twisted the hilt apart from the blade. He soon realized it wasn’t the dagger the count wanted but something in the handle.

Taglioni turned it upside down and shook it, holding his hand beneath to catch—what? Nothing fell out. He turned to look at Matthew, his lips thinning.

The look in the count’s eyes scared Matthew, frightened him as if he could read his own death in those black eyes. Matthew stepped back fumbling for his pistol and tried to determine how long it would take him to run to his horse.

“You betrayed me. I want the diamonds. What did you do with them?” The count walked toward Matthew, screwing the hilt and the knife back together again.

Backing up slowly, Matthew shook his head. “I, I don’t know about diamonds. I agreed to meet, meet, Westcott there with the dagger.” His heart beat rapidly. Matthew was flustered, seeing the look of pure evil and mercilessness on the count’s face.

“I want the diamonds.”

Madelene stood at the second-floor window, which afforded her a view of Gabriel on horseback as he rode down the lane toward the main road, circled the lake, and continued onward. She could see the faint outline of a horse and rider, but the dark left everything else to the imagination.

After his departure, she grabbed a thin shawl and left the house, having determined to meet Gabriel by the lake on his return home. She would wait for him there, since she dared not try to find their meeting place in the dark and on foot.

The wait back at the house had only served to make Madelene fretful and worried. She had to do something, and not even her guard, Alec, could stop her. Although truth be told, Alec appeared to have no interest anymore in Madelene’s whereabouts. Perhaps she and Gabriel no longer worried about her fleeing back to London and her brother.

With a lantern to guide her, Madelene found the path they had taken only the night before. A wonderful night that had ended in his bedchamber where they slept locked in each other’s arms.

Earlier in the day, Gabriel had tried to quell her fears, assuring her nothing could possibly go wrong, but Madelene remained unconvinced. After Matthew received the dagger from Gabriel, what might happen? Would Matthew want to hurt Gabriel for past grievances? She didn’t want to consider any other outcome but that both men would return to their homes safely.