Surrender

  “It was you who put the scarf and the snuffbox where you knew I would find them,” Victoria said evenly.

  Isabel glanced down at her breeches and boots and smiled strangely. “You are not the only one who has learned to enjoy the freedom of men’s clothing. I owe you for that, by the by. Do you think there will ever come a time when women will be free to wear breeches in public?”

  Victoria ignored that. “You followed me about at night.”

  “Oh, yes. I kept very close watch on you for weeks before I made my plans, learning your habits and your ways. When you took up with Stonevale, it all became vastly easier. You began taking so many risks, you see.”

  “Yes.” Greater risks than even Lucas had imagined, Victoria thought. “Who was it who nearly ran me down that night outside this tavern?”

  “That was Edgeworth. I told him I only wanted you frightened, but I do believe the fool saw his chance to get rid of Stonevale in the process. I was very angry with him afterward.”

  “And the footpad who attacked my husband?”

  “Edgeworth hired him for me. Again, you were supposed to be frightened, perhaps nicked a bit with the knife, but that was all. Something went wrong, however. You did not follow your usual pattern that night. Stonevale went to fetch you from the garden as usual, but you did not return to the carriage with him. The dolt of a footpad attacked him anyway, figuring he had to earn his money somehow,” Isabel said.

  Victoria remembered that had been the night when she had summoned Lucas to the garden to tell him she wanted to begin a love affair with him. She had not planned to go adventuring that evening, so she had not gone back to the carriage with him.

  “Why the haunting tactics, Isabel? Why the business with the scarf and the snuffbox and the pamphlet on reanimating the dead?”

  Isabel’s eyes brightened noticeably. “I got the notion from you, of course. Don’t you appreciate the irony? I wanted you to be scared out of your wits and to know there was no one you could turn to. After all, who would believe Whitlock had come back from the grave to kill you? My original plan was to terrify you into believing you had lost your wits. Everything would have been so simple if you had gotten yourself committed to a madhouse. Imagine yourself chained to a wall to rot for the rest of your life. A sane woman trapped in a world of madmen. It would have been a most piquant ending. And a safe one for me.”

  Victoria nodded. “You would not have had to risk your own neck by resorting to murder.”

  Isabel paused, considering Victoria’s words. “True. I do not like this business of having to do one’s own killing. However, once you married Stonevale and left Town so abruptly, it all got very complicated. There was always the chance that if you confided in Stonevale he might decide to make an investigation. That was when I began to agree with Edgeworth that you both must die.”

  “You still have not answered my first question, Isabel. Where is my husband?”

  “Edgeworth is bringing him here so that you both may die together in this room. It will all be excessively tragic and very romantic, I assure you. We should not have much longer to wait.”

  Victoria smiled coolly. “I fear you have made a mistake in sending Edgeworth to fetch my husband. Stonevale will be here soon, of that I have no doubt. But it is my guess that Edgeworth will not survive to accompany him.”

  Isabel walked over to the window, gazing at the dingy alley that ran alongside the Green Pig. “I fear you have a great deal of misplaced faith in your husband’s abilities, Victoria.”

  “I have a great deal of faith in his knowledge of strategy, madam.”

  From the dark confines of Edgeworth’s carriage, which was parked in a lane near the Green Pig, Lucas watched Victoria alight from the coach and go into the gaming hell. His hand tightened into a fist.

  “You have just sealed your own death, Edgeworth. You should never have involved my wife in this business,” he said icily.

  “Your wife was involved before I was,” Edgeworth said with a thin chuckle of satisfaction. “Her death is as important to Isabel as yours is to me.”

  “What is your plan?”

  “I suppose there is no harm in telling you now. You are known for your ability to plot tactics and strategy, Stonevale, so you should be able to perceive the cleverness of my scheme.”

  Lucas did not take his eyes off the front door of the Green Pig. He could feel Edgeworth’s tension filling the coach. The man smelled of it. “You are a coward and a fool, Edgeworth. The combination means that whatever you have planned is bound to end in failure.”

  Edgeworth raised the pistol slightly, his smile of satisfaction turning to a snarl. “You will see, Stonevale. This time your luck has finally run out. It is not only your life you will lose tonight, but your precious honor. Tomorrow morning all London will be talking about how the Countess of Stonevale left Lady Atherton’s reception to carry out a secret rendezvous with an unknown lover in the upstairs room of a gaming hell. They will delight in saying how you followed her and discovered her in bed with another man.”

  “Who is this other man?”

  “No one will ever know because he will have mysteriously escaped while you were busy killing your wife.”

  “And my own death? How will it be explained?”

  “Very easily. What else could a man in your situation do except put a pistol to his own head?”

  “Tell me, Edgeworth, was it you who notified Lady Nettleship of Victoria’s whereabouts on a certain evening?”

  Edgeworth smiled dryly. “I followed her from the ballroom that night, as usual. When I realized you were taking her to that inn in order to seduce her, I thought I saw my chance to enjoy a most agreeable vengeance against you. I was certain that when you were discovered, your reputation would be in shreds. I thought you would be shunned by Society afterward and cast out of the clubs. But you moved too quickly and married the lady within hours. And once Lady Nettleship and Jessica Atherton made it clear they approved the marriage, there was nothing to be done.”

  Edgeworth motioned with the weapon in his hand. The movement was jerky, betraying the man’s anxiety. “I think we’ve given my associate enough time alone with your wife. Isabel has the instincts of a cat, you see. She wanted to toy with her victim a few minutes before she delivered the deathblow.”

  Lucas started to step out of the carriage. He stumbled in the process and grabbed at the edge of the door, stifling a groan.

  “Damn you, Stonevale.” Edgeworth moved back hurriedly, the pistol coming up sharply as he made a grab for his own balance.

  “Sorry. My leg, of course. It has a habit of giving way at inappropriate moments.”

  “Shut up and get out of the carriage,” Edgeworth said nervously.

  Lucas obliged, moving cautiously. He watched Edgeworth alight behind him.

  “There is a flight of stairs at the back. We will use those,” Edgeworth said. “I don’t intend to have you try to escape in the tavern, where there would be witnesses if I was forced to shoot you.”

  “Very farsighted of you.” Lucas started into the dark alley that led to the back of the building that housed the Green Pig. The shadows suited him well. All that running around at odd hours with Victoria had paid off, he thought wryly. He had become quite accustomed to moving about in the deepest part of the night.

  He did not make his move until they reached the stairs. Then, in obedience to Edgeworth’s command, he started up the steps ahead of his captor.

  “Hurry,” Edgeworth muttered, his voice quavering and anxious now.

  “This must be exceedingly difficult for you, Edgeworth. Your nerve was always somewhat weak, was it not? I can just imagine what a strain this must be on you.”

  “God damn you, Stonevale. You will soon pay for that, I swear it. Hurry.”

  Lucas waited until he was on the third step before he deliberately let his bad leg go out from under him again. He started to reel backward, flailing wildly.

  “What in hell’s name are you
…?” Edgeworth instinctively tried to get out of the way, but the stairs were narrow and he wound up having to grab at the shaky railing as Lucas’s full weight hit him. He fought to get the pistol back in line to fire but it was too late.

  The struggle was brief. Both men rolled together down the three steps. Lucas paid attention only to the pistol in Edgeworth’s hand. Edgeworth’s finger began to tighten and Lucas used both hands to force the man’s arm across his body.

  Edgeworth heaved frantically, just as the pistol exploded. He cried out as the bullet went into his own chest at point-blank range.

  Lucas felt the shock and the sudden, terrible limpness that went through the other man. He was vaguely aware of a ringing in his ears caused by the noise of the pistol. Then he felt the unmistakable sensation of warm blood pumping over his fingers.

  “God damn you to hell, Edgeworth.” He levered himself away from the dying man.

  “He did that a long time ago. The day I turned and ran on the field of battle.” Edgeworth’s eyes were already closing. “You never told anyone about that.”

  “Each man must see to his own honor.”

  “You and your bloody damn sense of honor,” Edgeworth said, his voice strained and not much above a whisper.

  “Which room is my wife in, Edgeworth? Do not go to your maker with murder on your conscience along with everything else.”

  Edgeworth coughed and choked on blood. “Find her yourself, Stonevale.” He fell silent.

  Lucas got to his feet, certain the man was already unconscious. He dried his hands on Edgeworth’s coat and picked up the pistol.

  He had just turned to start back up the steps when Edgeworth spoke one last time.

  “Should have slit your throat that day when I saw you lying on that goddamned battlefield, Stonevale. Should have killed you when I had the chance. You have haunted me ever since like some damned ghost. And now you have had your vengeance.”

  Lucas said nothing. There was nothing left to say. He bounded up the stairs as fast as he could without jeopardizing his balance.

  At the top he found himself on a narrow landing. There was a door at one end which opened onto a dingy hallway. The grunts and groans and laughter that came from behind the closed doors told him where he was.

  He could start throwing open each door as he came to it, but that would cause alarm and give Isabel Rycott too much time and warning. Lucas reluctantly stepped back out onto the outside landing and eyed the narrow ledge that ran beneath the windows. It was a lucky thing he had a head for heights, he decided.

  Victoria was still leaning against the mantel when she caught the trace of movement outside on the window ledge. She knew immediately who was out there. Relief soared through her. Lucas was here and everything was going to be all right. She redoubled her efforts to keep Isabel talking and to make certain the other woman’s attention did not stray to the window.

  “Tell me, Isabel, do you think you will be able to give up the habit of going about in men’s clothing now that you have discovered the freedom associated with it? I vow, I will have a hard time resisting the temptation. It is a marvelous sensation, is it not? Think how much better off the world would be if all women felt free to wear breeches when it suited them.”

  Isabel shook the pistol menacingly. “Shut up, Victoria. You will not have to worry about that particular temptation after tonight.”

  Victoria smiled and used the toe of her boot to poke a small stick back into the fire. “Edgeworth will let you down, you know. Weak men may be useful on occasion, but I fear they cannot be counted upon in a crisis. I shall be the first to admit there are difficulties in dealing with a strong man, but I have learned that at least one can depend upon them. Have you ever met a man you could depend upon, Isabel? I have come to the conclusion that they are a rare and valuable commodity.”

  “I told you to shut up, damn you. Edgeworth will be here any minute and then you will not be feeling so talkative,” Isabel hissed.

  Out of the corner of her eye, Victoria saw a booted foot slide along the ledge. She put down the sack of clothing and absently fiddled with the cloak that was still draped over her arm. “The thing about talking is that it will help to pass the time until Stonevale gets here.”

  “Your husband is not going to rescue you, Victoria. You might as well get that notion out of your head.”

  “Nonsense. Lucas is the most amazing man, you know.” She smiled very brilliantly and in that second Lucas came through the window in a shower of glass and shattered wood.

  “No.” Isabel Rycott screamed in fury and swung her pistol toward the window.

  But Victoria was already whipping the cloak out in an arc that caused it to settle over Isabel’s head. Isabel screamed again. There was a shriek from under the cloak and then the pistol skittered along the wooden floor.

  Lucas looked at Victoria as he straightened and brushed off his clothes. “Are you all right?” he asked quite calmly.

  “Amazing.” Victoria ran into his arms. “I knew you would get here. Where is Edgeworth?”

  “In the alley. Dead.”

  Victoria swallowed. “Somehow that does not surprise me. What will we do with Lady Rycott?”

  “A good question.” Lucas released her and picked up Isabel’s pistol. Then he yanked the cloak off his victim, who glared at him with her glittering, gemlike eyes. “We don’t have a great deal of time to make the decision. We must get back to the ball before we are missed. I suppose the easiest thing to do is simply kill Lady Rycott here and now. The proprietor of the Green Pig is already fated to discover one body in the morning. He might as well discover two.”

  Victoria was horrified. “Lucas, wait. You cannot simply shoot her dead.”

  “I told you, we cannot afford any time to think about alternatives. We must be gone from here as quickly as possible.”

  Isabel stared at him, her eyes full of fear. “You cannot just shoot me in cold blood.”

  “I fail to see why not. The proprietor will no doubt see to it that both your body and Edgeworth’s are removed from his premises and dumped into the river. There will be no questions asked.”

  “No,” Isabel choked on a scream. “You cannot do such a thing.”

  “Lucas, she’s right,” Victoria said.

  “You care what happens to her?” Lucas asked.

  “Of course not. But I cannot allow you to shoot her down like this. Not only will it go against your sense of honor, but I do not want you to have to endure yet another act of violence. You have had far too much of killing in your life as it is.”

  “You are, as usual, much too softhearted, my dear. I assure you my honor is not offended by the thought of killing the woman who was going to kill you, and one more death on my conscience will not make much difference.”

  “It will to me,” Victoria said quietly. “I will not allow it.”

  “Then have you any other ideas?” Lucas asked a bit too casually.

  Isabel’s eyes widened in horror.

  “Well,” said Victoria, thinking quickly. “I don’t see why we could not just leave her here and let her find her own way home tonight. In the morning, she can begin making arrangements to return to the continent.”

  “The continent?” Isabel looked momentarily startled. “But I cannot go back there. I will be penniless. I will starve.”

  “I doubt it,” Victoria murmured. “Lucas, make her leave the country. It will serve our purposes just as well as killing her.”

  “Yes,” Isabel said slowly, taking another look at the pistol Lucas was idly pointing at her. “Yes, I will go back to the continent. I give you my word I will leave the country at once.”

  Lucas considered that. “I suppose it is a possibility.”

  “Yes.” Victoria spoke at the same time Isabel did.

  “You will naturally want to leave Town at the earliest possible time,” Lucas remarked. “And you will not return for a very long while, if ever.”

  “No, no, I won’t come b
ack at all, I give you my word.”

  “Because if you do decide to return, you would very likely find yourself tried for murder.”

  Isabel’s mouth fell open. “But I have killed no one.”

  “I fear you are wrong, Lady Rycott.” Lucas smiled. “You see, in a fit of jealousy, you followed Edgeworth to this tavern tonight, where you suspected he was meeting another woman, and you shot him.”

  “But I did no such thing.”

  “Unfortunately for you, madam, there will be a signed confession saying you did precisely that. That confession will be produced under appropriately dramatic circumstances should you ever return to England.”

  Victoria looked at Lucas with fresh admiration. “How very clever of you, Lucas. What an excellent notion. It is the perfect answer. We shall keep the confession and have it handy in case Isabel returns.”

  Isabel’s gaze swung from Lucas’s calm, implacable face to Victoria’s delighted expression. “But I have signed no such confession.”

  “You will before you leave this room, Lady Rycott,” Lucas said.

  20

  “Hurry and get those damned breeches off. We have no time to waste if we are to salvage both our reputations.” Lucas opened the sack that contained the amber yellow ball gown. He tugged out the rolled-up silk as the public coach he had hailed a few minutes earlier worked its way through the crowded streets.

  “I am doing the best I can, Lucas. There is no use snapping at me. It is not my fault men’s breeches are difficult to get off.”

  “If you think I am snapping at you now, you may rest assured it is nothing compared to what I am going to do to you when we get home tonight.”

  Victoria stopped working at the breeches, her head jerking upward in consternation. It took her a few seconds to realize he was furious. “Lucas, what’s wrong?”