Marguerite Kaye - Regency Surrender - Scandal And Deception

Had he forgotten that he hated her? It almost seemed so. He did not draw away from her, but pulled her closer to shield her from the cold as she worked.

Her hand trembled as she jabbed the pick into the ice, only to feel it slide away without leaving so much as a chip. She struck harder the next time. And harder still after that. The ice in this spot was solid, as if it had rested there until it was as hard as the rock around it. Compared to all the other problems that had come between her and her goals, it was a very small thing. But it was very annoying. She struck harder, again and again.

And then she gasped. Just for a moment, she thought she had seen a glittering that was brighter than frozen water. She took her lover’s hand and directed it, to form a cup at the base of the crack. She struck one last time, prying outwards to lever out the last of the ice. And what looked, at first glance, like a trickle of water, split into a multitude of tiny sparkles.

She heard Will’s laugh of satisfaction as the gems poured into his hand. She poked about for a moment longer to be sure that nothing remained hidden between the rocks. Then she ran a fingertip through the shavings of frost and felt the sharp edges of faceted stones. If she got her jeweller’s loupe and looked closer, she was sure she would recognise her father’s work in the cuts, just as she could when she looked at the stock from Montague’s safe.

She glanced down at the little velvet pouch, still dangling from her left wrist like a reticule, and opened it so that Will might tip his hand and pour the stones inside. Then she tightened the drawstring and offered him the bag.

He shook his head. ‘Now that you have them, they are back where they belong.’

‘Not quite,’ said a voice behind them.

Chapter Twenty

‘Montague.’ Will let out a curse under his breath at the sight of the man and the pistol he held pointed at them. ‘How did you find us?’

Justine berated herself for being so foolish as to lower her guard, even as she’d imagined his silent approach. She had warned Will that the man would find a way to cheat. But what was the point of winning the duel if he left Wales without the diamonds? ‘He waited in the woods and saw us when you opened the tunnel door.’

Montague gave a slight bow of acknowledgement, as though proud of his cleverness. ‘When you said you remembered all, I knew you would get the stones before it was too late. I had but to wait where the murder occurred to see if you would come and lead me to them.’

‘I should have remembered to lock the door behind me,’ Will said with a scowl. ‘You have already proven that you are a coward who will creep along behind, waiting for a chance to take from the unwary.’

Montague shrugged. ‘Not as noble as your family would be. But my method has proven effective so far. Now give me the diamonds and we will be almost finished here.’

‘Almost?’ Will said, watching the pistol in his hand.

‘There is still the matter of your threats of prosecution and the impending duel.’ Montague smiled. ‘While the odds are in my favour, I would not like to leave killing you to chance.’

She and Will had turned as a couple and she still stood slightly in front of him. Now he was taking her by the shoulders, trying to move her behind him, out of the line of fire.

That would not do. If she moved, her guardian would have a clear shot. She planted her feet and refused to budge. ‘Have you forgotten that you have but one bullet in your little gun?’ she said.

‘I need but one,’ Montague said. ‘Once William Felkirk is dead, the duke will want justice. And no tale of lost diamonds and evil strangers will save you from the hangman’s noose. It does not matter to me if you stay or come away with me, Justine. But leaving Wales might be the more sensible choice.’

Will gripped her firmly by the shoulders again, still trying to move her behind him. ‘Perhaps we could continue this conversation in a place where the lady is not trapped between us.’

‘The lady?’ At this, Montague laughed. ‘You poor deluded fool, that you should still call her that now that you remember what she was to me. Justine will move of her own accord, soon enough. Once she has worked out, with her tiny, feminine brain, how hopeless her situation is, she will come back to me and leave you to die. Like all women of her type, she cares for no one but herself.’

After killing her father, forcing her into a life she did not want, and threatening the only two people she loved, was that really what he thought of her? The idea that she would come tamely to his side and resume her old life was a sign of madness. Or perhaps it was only stupidity. Margot was safe, no matter what had happened. Will had promised her that, even when he was so angry he could hardly look at her. But without Will, she would have nothing left to lose. When one did not care about the future, there were far better alternatives than sharing a bed with a man she despised.

Justine watched as Montague’s gun hand twitched ever so slightly, as though trying to decide if it were possible to shoot past her and hit his target. She was too small to be an adequate shield for him, especially when Will seemed intent on being the protector, not the protected. He was still tugging at her arm, trying to ease her out of the line of fire.

She spread her arms wide, trying to cover as much of him as she could, staring at the hand that held the gun, watching for the telltale tightening of tendon and muscle. Her own hands clenched in response. The slight movement set the bag that held the diamonds swinging slowly on her wrist. It was too light to be a weapon. But perhaps...

She extended her arm suddenly and twisted her wrist. The drawstring slipped down her hand and the bag fly off her arm, arching through the air to land behind Montague. ‘Here are your diamonds. Take them and go.’

He was not distracted, as he should have been. Instead, the movement had startled him. He raised the gun, finger on the trigger.

He was going to shoot and it was her fault. Without thinking, she threw herself forward, as though it might be possible to stop what was surely to occur. Then she remembered the ice pick, still clutched in her right hand, and fell forward, holding it in front of her.

There was a noise, very close and very loud. Then Montague’s body weighed heavy against hers, as they fell to the wet ground. The warm, wet ground. That could not be right. An ice house should not be warm. Will was standing over her, the lantern swinging wildly in his hand, casting shadows against walls and ceiling, and over his very white face. He was so very pale. But at least he was still alive. He was moving his lips, but she could not seem to hear what he was saying. It was easier, just to close her eyes and think of something else.

Chapter Twenty-One

‘Justine! Oh, my God. Justine!’ He had been hatching a plan to get clear of her and wrestle the gun from Montague. He had not been paying attention to her. That had been Montague’s problem as well, he was sure. Neither of them had given her enough credit. Nor had they expected her to spring like a tiger for the throat of the man who had persecuted her.

God help him, there had been a shot. His head was still ringing with it. The foolish girl had given no thought to her own safety, throwing herself at an armed man. She might have been injured, even killed. If she had been lost because of his slow reflexes...

He was at her side in an instant, rolling Montague’s inert body to the side so that he might tend to her. ‘My darling, are you all right?’ Was she his darling? He hadn’t thought so, this afternoon. But why else would she risk her life to protect him? ‘Justine?’

She stared blankly up at him without answering. Had she been shot? There was a prodigious quantity of blood, but it did not seem to be hers. He ran his hands carefully over her body, looking for tears in her garments, or the flinch and cry as his fingers accidentally probed a wound. But she could not seem to feel them at all. Her flesh was impassive at his touch, cold, but whole.