She’d overpowered him, she knew it and he knew it. He was silent for a long moment, too long. “You ask too much.”
“You’re a very intelligent man. I’m sure you can make it all happen.”
He seethed, his face splotchy and red, his nostrils flaring. He’d never before wanted to strike her as badly as he did in that moment, yet for once he couldn’t react.
Eleanor grinned, realizing that this is what it felt like to win. The power could easily go to her head. “What say you, my husband? What do they do to traitors nowadays? Hang them, or firing squad?”
He shook his head, sinking into his chair. “It’s too late.”
A shiver of unease rippled over her body. Ellie’s smile faded. “What do you mean?”
He smirked up at her, and she realized in that moment that she hadn’t won at all. “Your whore. He hangs in five minutes. You’ll never get there in time. It’s too late.”
Five minutes.
Five minutes and he would hang. Five minutes and his world would be over. If he was going to believe in God, he supposed he’d better start now. Yet as he stared at that door, waiting for the guards to appear and escort him outside, he found he couldn’t believe in much of anything anymore.
James sat against the cell wall, heedless of the rats that shuffled across the dingy floor, coming closer… ever closer. He only thought about his life and what he had become. The secrets. The betrayal. The senseless loss of lives. For what?
He would die and none of it mattered. His life had not mattered. He had not saved his family, and he had not saved Eleanor. He had lived a lie. He rested his head in his hands and stared at the door… waiting… waiting.
How stupid he’d been all those years to believe that he’d been blessed. Living in luxury while saving his family. He’d actually thought he and Lady Lavender were friends. He laughed, the harsh sound echoing against the stone walls. Hell, maybe he deserved to die for being so bloody stupid. If only he could take Lord Beckett to hell with him.
A door screeched open from somewhere down the hall. Footsteps echoed, thumping in time with his heart… two? Three? Each thud of footsteps closer was a moment closer to his death. James managed to stagger to his feet, the chains rattling with the movement. Very well, he would face death, look it straight in the eyes, and tell it to go to hell. He would not cower. He would not beg.
The cell door screeched open. The rats went scurrying into holes and drains. He had just enough time to note two dark forms in the doorway right before a lantern swung forward, illuminating the dank cell. He hadn’t seen light in days. Blinded, James stumbled back, hitting the damp wall and using it for support.
“Christ,” a familiar voice mumbled. “Ye look like hell.”
Hope swept through him, leaving James shaken, confused. “Gideon?”
The large man stepped into the cell. “Well, I’d say I told ye so, but I figure you’ve been through enough.”
James sank against the wall, his legs too weak to hold him. “Dear God, it is you.”
“Come on then,” the guard grumbled, moving forward and undoing James’s chains. “Yer free.”
The chains fell away, clanging to the floor, but James merely stood there, too confused to move. Was he dreaming? Maybe he’d already died. Or maybe, more likely, he’d gone mad. “Free?”
“Yes,” Gideon said kindly. He knew now he was dreaming, for Gideon was never kind.
Desperate, James stumbled forward, but his legs had grown useless and he ended up falling into Gideon’s sturdy body. He latched onto the lapels of Gideon’s jacket. “How? Was it Lady Lavender’s doing?”
He swore he’d rather rot than allow her to hold this over him.
“No.” Gideon slipped his arm around his waist, holding him upright. “Gads, yer even worse off than I suspected. Going bloody mad.”
“Gideon, do not jest with me.”
“I never jest.”
It was true, so very true. He flattened his hands to Gideon’s chest, could even feel the man’s heart beat against his palm. He was real. James reached out, gripping Gideon’s thick hair. Completely and utterly real.
“Are we going to leave, or would you rather kiss me?” Gideon grumbled.
“Eleanor?” James asked, ignoring his surly tone.
“She’s with Alex and well enough, or so I’ve heard.” Gideon helped him toward the door while the guard waiting with a lantern stood passively by. The same guard who had beaten the hell out of him when Lord Beckett had visited. James’s hand curled, and for a quick, heated moment he thought about slamming his fist into the man’s face.
“Don’t even think about it,” Gideon said softly. “I just got ye out; ye don’t want to be thrown back in, do ye?”
James uncurled his fist and jerked his head toward the door. Gideon was right. Dear God, he didn’t understand any of this, and a part of him still thought he must be dreaming, but at the moment he would believe it was true… he was free.
Gideon helped him down the hall. “Christ, you stink.”
“Funny enough, they didn’t offer bathing,” James growled, his voice rough from disuse.
“What sort of establishment is this? If I were you, I’d demand my money back. Hope you didn’t pay too much for such fine accommodations.”
“Only in my blood and freedom.”
The other prisoners staring out through the small bars of their doors clutched at his conscience. He tore his attention away from their haunted gazes and dark faces. He could not block out their cries and curses.
“James, dear God, I do believe this is the first time I’ve seen you truly angry.”
“Get used to it,” James said. The hatred inside consumed him, heated his blood, and made him want to scream, or punch someone. Made him want to visit Lord Beckett’s and tear the man limb from limb.
“Out the back, sir,” the guard said meekly.
Things had certainly changed. Somehow, in some way, Gideon had gotten his release. He would be forever in his debt. Although he was dying to know how the present moment had come about, he had other things to think about.
The guard shoved open a thick wooden door. Brilliant daylight burst into the corridor. James cowered, squeezing his eyes shut. It was too much, too damn much. The light made his stomach churn, his head spin.
“They’re awaiting a hanging, and are going to be none too happy when they don’t have one,” the guard muttered.
“So sorry to disappoint them,” James snapped. The courtyard was large, teeming with guards and prisoners. But it was the unmarked carriage waiting by that held his interest. He’d been here before with Gideon… so many years ago. He could practically see that lavender carriage.
“We’re friends, we’re all going to be great friends.”
She’d been right about one thing… Gideon and Alex were his friends. True friends who would risk their own lives for him. Ellie… Ellie was a friend as well, a woman who knew more about him than any other being on this earth. He was not alone.
“Best get out now, while ye can.” The guard spun around and went back inside, closing the door. James heard the large bolt being turned and shivered slightly. He had to remind himself over and over that he was free.
“Up with ye.” Gideon helped him into the carriage, following. It wasn’t until the door closed that James fell back into his seat and actually allowed his body to relax. He closed his eyes as the carriage jerked to life, trusting Gideon completely. His body shook, shook with pent-up anger and despair. But it was the anger he clung to, the hatred that kept him going.
“Here, take this.”
James cracked his lids to see Gideon holding out a small bottle. He’d drawn the curtains and the carriage was covered in shadows. “What is it?”
They headed into London, bumping over cobbled roads. “Morphine for the pain.”
James shoved the bottle away and closed his eyes once more. “No. I want to keep my wits.”
Gideon sighed but didn’t push the medi
cine. Lord, the seats felt like heaven, soft and clean. He didn’t give a bloody damn that he was ruining the fine vehicle; he wanted to stretch out and sleep. To dream about holding Eleanor, her rose scent and soft body.
“Water then?”
His body reacted to the word. With a groan, James opened his eyes and took the jug. For a good minute he drank the clean, clear liquid. Drank so much his stomach felt as if it might burst. “Tell me how the hell you got them to release me.”
Gideon handed him a basket and grinned. “Quite a bit has happened since I’ve been away. Things ye’ve missed while ye were playing pummel-the-lord. For one, believe it or not, I’m married.”
“Congratulations,” James said without conviction. Surely the man was lying. Gideon would never marry, unless it fit some ulterior purpose. James tore open the basket. Bread, cheese, cold chicken. He almost cried out in pleasure. His stomach grumbled loudly.
“I’m also very rich.”
Well then, that must be the reason for his hasty marriage. That certainly made more sense than believing Gideon had fallen in love. He grabbed a chicken leg and took a huge bite. “Well done,” he managed over the mouthful.
“And I have a grandmother, a titled witch of a woman from a very wealthy family. A grandmother who owes me quite a bit.”
James took another large bite, savoring the greasy meat as it coated his tongue and slid down his throat. “I don’t understand anything you’re telling me and I don’t bloody care. I have more important things to worry about.”
“Well that’s gratitude for you,” Gideon said dryly.
“I don’t give damn whether this is all a temporary reprieve. I don’t care if I end up returning to prison, as long as I accomplish two things while I’m out.”
“Only two?” Gideon quirked a dark brow, his silver gaze showing his amusement. “Well then, how can I deny your wishes? Do tell.”
“First, I’m going to kill Ophelia. Then, I’m going to murder Eleanor’s husband.”
Chapter 17
James had never thought to step foot on Lavender Hills Estate property again. But there were many things he’d never thought he’d do: Become a whore. Fall in love with a married lady. Attempt murder.
As the heady scent of lavender followed the carriage through the iron gates he could think of nothing other than ridding the world of the woman who had destroyed so many.
Gideon had stretched out his long legs as much as the carriage would allow and watched James through wary eyes. “You sure you want to do this?”
“I’ve never been so sure in my life.”
The carriage started down the long drive, wheels crunching over gravel. “From what I’ve heard, you managed to trick a beautiful woman into falling in love with you. Why ruin it?”
James swallowed hard, staring out the window. Love? Did she love him? She’d never said. Frankly, he didn’t want to know; not now. “There is no hope for us. But there is hope for her if I get rid of Ophelia and Lord Beckett.”
“Ach, now, aren’t you the one always saying there’s always room for hope?”
James slid him a glance. “No, I’ve never said that. Must be from the poetry you so obviously read.”
Gideon clicked his tongue. “You’re getting rather witty with old age.”
James ignored him, in no mood to spar. “Gates were open.”
Gideon shrugged indifferently. There was an ease about the man that hadn’t been there before. A light and calmness in his gray eyes. “That’s normal during the day.”
“Yes, but usually she has guards posted, keeping watch.”
Gideon brushed aside a curtain. “Hmm, interesting, indeed.”
They lapsed into silence, each mulling over the possibilities of what was to come. He was grateful that Gideon had been the one to arrive. Alex, he knew without doubt, would have attempted to talk James out of his vendetta.
“You’re married now, Gideon. I assume you might have some sort of affection for your wife?”
“A little,” he admitted with a sheepish grin that said he felt much more than he implied. Hell, the man actually glowed. Typical Gideon, unable to own up to his feelings. Still, he owed the man his life. He’d harmed enough innocents because of his actions; he would not ruin Gideon’s chances.
“Then leave. Go home to your family. You have a chance to live. But if you stay with me, you might hang.”
Gideon shrugged. “I’ve killed before and gotten away with it.”
James wasn’t sure what the man was talking about, and frankly didn’t want to know. The carriage paused and his heart slammed wildly in his chest. Minutes from now it would be over. His past gone. She would not harm anyone else. Her reign would be destroyed.
“Here you go.” Gideon reached into his jacket pocket and handed James a pistol.
James took the weapon, shoved the door open. He was just about to step outside when Gideon placed his hand on his arm, stopping him.
“It will change you, James.” He pulled his hand away. “At night when you close your eyes you will see her face. You will wonder if perhaps there was some good in her and you took away the only chance she had to prove it.”
James felt cold inside, numb. Gideon’s words meant nothing to him. “It’s the only way.”
He didn’t wait for Gideon’s response but stepped outside, the weight of the pistol cool against the palm of his hand. Slowly, he tilted his head back and studied the estate that had been his home for over a decade. Nothing had changed, although it should have. After all, his world was destroyed, all he believed in gone. Yet the estate still stood here. The air still smelled like lavender. And she still reigned. But not for long. Perhaps, he thought idly, as he moved up the steps, he’d burn the estate and the fields to the ground after he got rid of her.
He didn’t fear the woman. He didn’t fear her many guards. He didn’t fear death. At that moment he only feared failure. He shoved the door open, surprised that not even Wavers was standing guard. For a moment he paused in the foyer, attuning his senses to the estate.
He’d lived here for so many years, at one time it had felt like home. Now it felt cold, lonely… the inside of a large and elaborate mausoleum. An empty mausoleum. Something was wrong. Very wrong. The door to her office stood open, not a guard in view. James tightened his grip on the pistol and moved cautiously into the room.
Ophelia sat behind her desk, a tea tray untouched upon the surface. As the floorboards creaked under his feet, she slowly glanced his way but didn’t look in the least bit surprised to see him. “Well,” she said softly. “I never thought to see you again.”
“You hoped,” he said without an ounce of bitterness. Strangely he felt nothing, as if he was merely doing a deed that must be done… much like when he bedded his clients.
She shrugged, leaning nonchalantly back in her chair, all ease and comfort. “Honestly, I didn’t really care what happened to you one way or another.”
He strolled toward the sideboard and poured himself a whiskey. “You never have, have you?”
The corners of her mouth quirked into a small smile. “James, you were a means to an end.”
He faced her fully, glass in one hand, pistol in the other. “What end, exactly?”
“My revenge, of course, but you already knew that.”
James strolled to one of the two chairs across from her desk. “So now we’ve all been thoroughly punished, and you can move on?” He sat down. “Yet we haven’t really been destroyed, have we? Alex is happily married. Gideon is in love, as shocking as it sounds. They have both escaped your carefully crafted plan to ruin innocent lives.” He smiled and held his arms wide. “And here I am as well… free.”
“Unfortunately.” She tilted her head to the side, studying him with curious eyes. “How did you escape?”
“Friends, oddly enough. Something you wouldn’t understand.”
She laughed. “Who needs friends when I have this much power and money? Friends will eventually turn on you anyway,
James.”
“Money, yes, but not power.” He took a drink, savoring the burn of the alcohol as it spread down his throat. “You don’t seem to get that. You have no power over Alex. You have no power over Gideon. And now you have no power over me.”
“Oh James, it might be over now, but I’ve certainly had my revenge. For a decade you were completely under my control. I took your childhood. And even now you don’t go to bed at night without thinking of me, of the shame you feel because you sold yourself.” She stood and he realized with some surprise that she was wearing pink. A soft, girlish pink gown with a demure square neckline and softly flowing skirt.
“You’re not wearing lavender.”
She pressed her hands to her narrow waist and laughed again. “No. I tire of the color. I was wearing it the day I was forced, you know.” She strolled toward the windows, looking out upon her territory. “From that day onward I wore it as a reminder to myself and to those who harmed me.” She smiled tauntingly. “Your father was the worst of them, you know. He actually had a heart, yet he stood by, helped them cover the crime. At least Gideon’s father had the good sense to pay for my silence.” She spread her arms wide. “And here I am… in all this splendor.”
James swallowed hard, his emotions conflicted. She was troubled, insane, and part of him felt guilty for his father’s deed, disappointed that the man he’d adored could have allowed such brutality. But he also knew she would not rest until they were completely and utterly destroyed.
She trailed her fingers across her desktop. “I’m the reason your mother started whoring herself on the streets.”
James went still. She was lying, she must be. His mother wouldn’t…
“I see by the stunned look upon your face you didn’t know.” She grinned and any compassion he felt for her disappeared. “I didn’t set out to ruin your life, merely your father’s, if it makes any difference. But then the bastard went and killed himself. Could he have possibly felt guilty?”
He would not react to her. She was baiting him, trying to draw him into her web of lies and revenge. He wouldn’t bite; instead he decided to turn the tables on her. “I wonder what your family would think if they knew what you’ve been doing since you disappeared,” James said casually. “You’re from France, correct? Your father was a reverend of sorts.”