Whirlwind Affair

Chapter 23

Michael dragged his hands down his haggard-looking face, and Robert curbed his impatience at the pause.

After blowing out a long breath, Michael continued, his eyes fierce. "That bastard returned to Ireland and told my mum his sad tale of woe about how his father would withhold all the money if he ever learned of their marriage. And that even though he loved her and their son, he loathed the thought of returning to a life of what was, to him, abject poverty." Disgust filled Michael's voice. "And how, now that his brother was dead, he had to assume his role as the heir, so that the estate that had been in his family for centuries did not fall into ruin."

"I hope your mother beat him with a skillet."

"I wish she had. No, Mum said she recognized that Nigel was no longer the carefree, happy young man she'd married. He was miserable living in Ireland, and she had no wish to cause him more misery, or to keep him from the life he so desperately wanted. She knew if she didn't let him go, he'd end up hating her, and, for reasons that I will never understand, she loved the bastard enough to let him go."

Robert raised his brows. "She couldn't possibly annul ih marriage. She had you."

"Exactly." He spread his hands in a gesture of disbelief "They simply agreed to live separately. Mum promised to move away and never mention their marriage-to prevent In father or anyone else from finding out about it-and Nigel vowed to financially provide for her and… me. With the help of the priest who married them, Mum used the money Nigel gave her to settle into a new life in another town. She took the last name Evers and claimed she was a widow. The only item she kept from her life with Nigel was a coat-of-arms ring he gave her, which she kept in a small ring box with a false bottom. In the false bottom she concealed a note written to her from the priest who married her and Nigel, which offered indisputable proof that the marriage took place and is still valid, a precaution she said she took to safeguard my future should the need ever arise. Just in case Nigel ever changed his mind and wished to acknowledge the union to his family, she told him about the note and where she'd hidden it.

"Unfortunately, the ring, along with the box and its secret contents, were stolen from her several years ago. You can imagine her surprise when I turned up on her doorstep bearing the note." Michael's gaze hardened. "But that was nothing compared to her shock when I informed her that not only had Nigel inherited his father's title but he'd married another woman and fathered another son."

The full impact of Michael's story hit Robert like a blow to the head. He stared up at Michael in complete shock. "Good God, Michael. Geoffrey Hadmore is not really the earl of Shelbourne. You are."

Michael's lips flattened into a thin line. "So it would bloody well seem." Reaching into his jacket pocket, he withdrew two yellowed documents and handed them to Robert. "Before leaving Ireland, my mum brought me to the church where she and Nigel were married and I was baptized. These are the official certificates of proof of the marriage and my baptismal record."

Robert stared at the documents, his mind whirling. "Hadmore must not know you could lay claim to his title. If he did-"

"Robert. I've had time to digest this, thinking about it all on my way here. I don't think he knows I am the man who could claim his title, but I'm positive he knows such a threat exists."

Michael's words sunk in, tightening Robert's gut with dread. He rose, then handed the papers back to Michael. "Jesus. All those 'accidents' that have befallen Allie… Hadmore must know the proof was in the note. And that Allie had the note. He's responsible."

"I agree."

He started across the room at a near run. "We must tell her. Warn her."

Michael caught up and grabbed his arm. "She's safe, Robert. She's in the nursery with your sister-in-law. The butler told me so."

Relief raced through him. "Thank God. But she must be told. Immediately." He quit the room, Michael following. They'd just entered the foyer, intending to climb the stairs to the nursery, when Caroline burst into the entryway from the opposite direction. Robert stared at her disheveled hair and gown, her panicked expression, and his heart nearly stuttered to a halt.

"Robert, thank God," she said, her chest heaving, her voice breathless. "You must come quickly. Miles and Austin, too. We need bandages… There's been a terrible accident."

He grabbed her by the upper arms, his heart pounding with dread. "Is it Allie?"

She shook her head, and he squeezed his eyes closed in relief. "But a man's been hurt. I don't know how badly. We found him lying, unconscious, on the path leading toward the ruins."

His eyes snapped open. "We?"

"Allie and I. She's with him now-"

"Allie is alone in the woods with this man?" He barely resisted the urge to shake her, as icy fear gripped him. "Who is he?"

She pulled out of his grasp and glared at him. "I don't know who he is. But no, she is not alone with him. Lord Shelbourne is with her."

Robert actually felt the blood drain from his face. His eyes met Michael's over Caroline's head. " Austin is in his study Caroline. Get him." He nudged her toward the corridor, and she needed no further urging, taking off at a very uncountesslike run.

Robert's hands curled into fists. "You know both Austin and Miles. Wait for them, then tell them about Hadmore. They know the way toward the ruins. Make certain you're armed. There's not a moment to lose."

He left the foyer at a dead run, thankful his knife was already secured in his boot, for there was no time to retrieve his pistol from his bedchamber. Exiting the house through the rear, he did the only two things he could-run as fast as possible, and pray for all he was worth.

Ten minutes later, heart pounding, sweat trickling down his back, knife in hand, he rounded the corner in the path and came upon the man lying on the ground. Robert didn't recognize him, but one close look was enough to determine that he was dead. And very much alone.

Damn it! Where was she? If that bastard Shelbourne hurt her-

He viciously thrust the thought aside, and forced himself to remain calm, think clearly. He scanned the area, focusing on the soft ground. The imprint of horse hooves was clearly visible, leading farther into the forest. Without further hesitation, he raced forward.

Allie stared at the pistol and fought the panic threatening to overwhelm her. Surely her life would not end like this… at the hands of this madman. Her gaze darted about, but there was nowhere to escape. Because they stood in this small clearing, even if she attempted to run, he'd shoot her before she made it to the closest tree.

A wave of anger rolled through her, pushing aside some of her fear. No. She could not allow this to happen. Would not allow another man to control her, to steal something else from her-this time her life. Help was coming. All she needed was a little more time.

One look at her captor's face, however, withered any hope of him gifting her with that time. He appeared perfectly composed, the hand holding the pistol steady, his eyes intent. Still, she had to try to stall.

"Geoffrey-" Her voice cracked and she cleared her throat. "Think about what you are doing. If you kill me, you will hang. You will be caught, and it will all be for naught."

"But I will not be caught, my dear. I already told you my plan, my explanation for when I am questioned. No one will dare gainsay the word of the earl of Shelbourne." He inclined his head, and what looked like genuine regret passed over his features. "I wish I did not have to kill you, Alberta. You're a very beautiful woman. Under different circumstances, we might have enjoyed each other immensely." His gaze flicked down her body.

Her breath caught as a combination of revulsion and hope slammed into her. Commanding herself to concentrate on hope, she bit back her disgust, and forced a tiny smile to her stiff lips. Say anything, do anything, to gain yourself a few more minutes…

"We still could enjoy each other," she said in what she prayed was a suggestive tone. "Your secret would be safe with me, Geoffrey. I would never tell anyone."

He raised his brows, and for several seconds mulled over her words. But then he shook his head. "A tempting offer, my dear. But I'm afraid this is the only way. Good-bye, Alberta." He raised the pistol several inches. Her brain shouted at her to run, but her feet seemed nailed to the ground.

"Stop!" The sharp, hoarse command came from her left and her knees nearly gave way with relief. Robert emerged from the trees, a knife gripped in his hand. Geoffrey's attention turned to Robert, and he swiveled the pistol in his direction. "Stay where you are, Jamison."

Her relief immediately turned to dread. Robert was alone. Her heart stuttered to a near stop. And now the weapon pointed at him.

Robert's gaze raked over her, and she jerked her head in a nod to let him know she was unharmed. Then, with his gaze fixed on Geoffrey, he moved slowly toward her.

"Halt, Jamison, or I shall shoot you."

"Go ahead," Robert invited in a deadly voice, continuing closer toward her. "That's the only way you'll stop me."

Fear iced her blood. She wanted to scream at him to stop, but before she could utter a sound, he dashed forward the last several feet separating them and shoved her behind him, making himself a shield between her and Geoffrey.

"There are two of us here, Shelbourne," Robert said, "with more on the way. You will not have time to reload after your shot. It's over. Throw down your weapon."

"This does not concern you, Jamison." His eyes burned with hatred. "You have no right to interfere in matters you know nothing about."

"I know all about it," Robert said, his voice dripping ice. "All about the contents of the letter in the ring box. All about the dead man on the path back there, and the numerous attempts you've made on Allie's life. I know that you are not in fact the earl of Shelbourne."

Geoffrey's face contorted with crimson rage. "The only proof is that note. When I get it-"

"You're wrong. There's also a marriage certificate documenting the union between your father and his Irish wife. And the recording of their son's baptism. I've seen both documents."

Every drop of color drained from Geoffrey's face. "Impossible. You're lying. How could you have seen such documents?"

"Your half brother, the true earl, showed them to me when he arrived at Bradford Hall less than an hour ago. He retrieved them from the church in Ireland where his mother married Nigel Hadmore. It's over. Toss down your weapon."

Surely Geoffrey would realize the hopelessness of his situation and listen to Robert. But when Allie looked at Geoffrey from around Robert's broad shoulder, all hope died at the desperation and hatred contorting Geoffrey's features. Dear God, one tiny movement of that madman's finger would mean the end of Robert's life.

"Who is he?" Geoffrey asked, his voice a near-croak.

Robert's shoulders tensed. "I'll not say this again. Put down your weapon."

"Tell me who he is," Geoffrey screamed.

"There's really no need to, as you'll be meeting him face-to-face momentarily. But as long as you insist, it is Michael Evers, the pugilist. I know you're already acquainted with him, as I've seen you at his boxing emporium."

An eerie stillness fell over the group, and for a few seconds, the only sounds Allie could hear were the beating of her own heart and Geoffrey's ragged breathing.

"It's not possible," came Geoffrey's strangled words. "He's nothing… he's as common as street trash."

"On the contrary, he's the foremost pugilist in the country. And he is the earl of Shelbourne."

Hatred such as Allie had never seen blazed in Geoffrey's eyes. "You mock me with your falsehoods, you bastard. I may not win the day, but I can at least make certain that your lying mouth is silenced."

Before the full horror of his intention could truly dawn in Allie's mind, Geoffrey raised the pistol and squeezed the trigger.

Robert surged forward, and then crumpled into a heap at her feet.