Chapter 34
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
“That is enough,” Abraham’s commanding shout broke through the melee.
Tristan released the now- unconscious man from his grip and looked toward the staircase. The fighting surrounding him, Alistair, Hugo, and Dominic, ceased as Abraham took a few more steps down the stairs.
“Where is she?” Tristan demanded, raising his pistol toward Abraham.
It was empty, its last shot used to scatter Abraham’s guards, but he prayed Abraham would not notice.
By the looks of him, though Tristan was sure he could barely stand.
The blood-soaked kerchief tied around his neck and the flecks of it in his white hair proved that he had been through quite the struggle, and Tristan had no doubt that it was Ophelia, his fierce, quick-thinking wife-to-be who was completely responsible for it. He smirked, feeling a surge of pride.
“Where are my ownership papers?” Abraham asked in return.
Tristan shook his head, the smirk still on his lips.
“We are not giving you anything,” he replied.
“Other than your life,” Alistair stated, joining Tristan by his side. “Unlike you we do not murder people.”
Abraham smirked.
“So you figured that out, did you?” He asked.
Rage tunneled through Tristan’s veins.
“So you admit you killed my father then?” He grit out. “Why?”
“All the more reason for you to sign the papers,” Abraham said with a cocky grin. “You seem to need much from me, Lord Darlington. You want your lover alive. Your secret kept. Now you want the story of your father. You can have it all if you and your friends just sign over your ownership.”
From the top of the staircase, Tristan saw Ophelia silently come into view.
His heart quivered as he took in her torn dress, ruined hair, bruised cheeks, and the many tiny cuts over her arms and collarbone.
He hated that she’d experienced such pain and he silently swore then and there that he would somehow try to make up for it. Once, of course, they all survived.
She shook her head at him as she pressed a finger to her lips, then in her other hand raised what looked to be a heavy gold necklace.
“Why go to all this trouble?” Tristan asked, keeping Abraham distracted. “Why not make your money the way we all did? With time and effort and proper decisions?”
Abraham’s eyes narrowed at Tristan’s question.
“It must have been nice to have a father to teach you such things,” Abraham said coldly. “It is a shame that the only lessons my father gave me where how to cheat and lie and gamble.”
“Oh I see,” Tristan scoffed, watching as Ophelia drew closer to Abraham’s back. “This is a ‘I had a bad Daddy sort of bit,’ is it?”
Abraham bared his teeth as he took another step down the stairs. Tension had Tristan freezing as Ophelia stilled behind him, then slowly raised the necklace with both hands behind her head.
“Just for that I am killing Ophelia,” Abraham growled out.
Then the links of the heavy gold necklace clinked in Ophelia’s hands.
Abraham whirled around as Tristan shouted his name, and as Abraham lunged at her, she swung the heavy necklace down; slamming the large gold rose directly into his face.
Abraham’s hands shot out for her as he went sailing backward down the stairs, and in a brief moment of terror, Tristan saw Ophelia going with him.
Then her hands shot out, catching the railing, and her already torn skirts ripped away from her dress, leaving Abraham to fall down the long set of stairs alone.
A moment of silence passed as Abraham’s body crumbled to the bottom of the stairs. Then all at once, everyone began to move. Dominic and Hugo tying up the unconscious guards. Alistair rushing to check on the very still Abraham, and Tristan and Ophelia lunging toward one another.
Tristan caught her as she leaped over the unmoving heap that was captor and pulled her close, claiming her lips in a deep kiss.
“Thank God you are all right,” he rasped over between their desperate kisses. “Oh look at you. What has he done to you?”
“I will be fine,” she promised between kisses “Just a few scratches.”
Then she pulled back, her small hands fisting tightly in his hair as his own wrapped around her waist, ““You came for me,” Ophelia whispered, “You actually came for me.”
Tristan’s hands trembled, caught between wanting to crush her to his chest and not wanting to harm her further.
“I love you,” he breathed as his lips pulled sweetly from hers, “God, I love you.”
Ophelia sighed happily on his lips and he breathed the sound in; loving the taste of it.
“I love you. You annoying, beautiful, irritating, wonderful man,” she replied, then kissed him deeply.
They pulled away from another, smiling, and he could not stop himself from brushing kisses over her cheek, her nose, her temple.
The sound of Alistair clearing his throat though, soon had them coming back to reality. Tristan kept his arm around Ophelia’s waist as the two of them turned. Outside, the sound of hoofbeats came, letting them know that Everett had arrived with constables.
“I hate to break up such a happy reunion,” Alistair said, his tone wary as he kneeled over Abraham, “But we may a dismal situation on our hands.”
The man was stirring awake, but just by the way his eyes rolled slowly around the room, Tristan knew something was off.
“Abraham,” Tristan stated his name.
Abraham showed no recognition that he knew such a name, just let out a childlike whimper. Tristan’s eyes then widened, feeling disturbed as the man drew his hand to his bloodstained lips. Tristan’s eyes shot to Alistair’s, who looked just as alarmed as Tristan felt.
“Look at the floor,” Alistair gently commanded, pointing to a particular spot.
Tristan and Ophelia both looked. Ophelia curled herself into his side as Tristan felt his stomach lurch when they saw Abraham’s tongue.
“He must have bitten off in the fall,” Alistair sighed, shaking his head. “Poor miserable man.”
“I believe we need to fetch a physician,” Tristan said.
“Aye,” Alistair said with a grave nod. “That we do.”
Three hours later, after constables questioned the guards, gathered evidence, and made their arrests, and Abraham was on his why to the psychiatric asylum, Tristan held Ophelia in front of him as the slowly rode back to London.
Abraham had not broken a single bone during his tumble down the stairs, but it was clear that not only had he lost his tongue, but something had broken irrevocably inside his brain.
The man, who had only hours ago threatened all of their livelihood, now spoke in only gibberish and needed assistance walking. It was as if the knock to his head had transported him back to a much younger age- to an innocence he long ago lost.
After he was taken away from the physician, Ophelia seemed to notice Tristan’s discomfort, and she asked him what was wrong.
“It is awful,” he confessed.
“Tell me anyway,” she had gently insisted.
“I wanted him to suffer. But this? He will not ever be the same. Never be able to feel remorse or guilt. He will never be able to tell me what actually happened to my father.”
A moment of silence had stretched between him and Ophelia as the Cookham estate began to clear of constables and their new prisoners.
Alistair was inside, looking for any more evidence Abraham might have had on the Devil’s Masquerade.
Hugo, Everett, and Dominic were gathered in a circle in the gravel drive, murmuring about something as they occasionally threw worried glances toward Tristan and Ophelia a few paces away.
“He told me,” Ophelia had said after a while. “Of what happened. But I think we should wait for Alistair to come out. I think you all deserve to know.”
Once Alistair came out of the house, the five of them gathered, and Ophelia retold the story Abraham had shared with her. Her words disturbed Tristan greatly. He had no idea Abraham’s hatred for his family had run so deep- but at least now they all had answers.
“What were you thinking back there?” Ophelia asked, nudging the back of her head against his chest.
Everett stirred from his thoughts and smiled down at her as the sun began to set.
“It is hard to believe that this is all over,” he confessed. “Even after Boyle was arrested I had this feeling that something was still not right. Now I understand why.”
He paused, letting out a sigh as he rubbed his chin atop Ophelia’s head.
“I have spent years looking over my shoulder, for far more reasons than I ever truly realized. I think it is time that I stop doing that,” he murmured.
He let a moment of silence pass between the them before he added, “I have decided to sell the Devil’s Masquerade.”
Ophelia quickly turned in the saddle, looking at him with wide eyes over her shoulder.
“But you love the Masquerade!” She exclaimed.
“I used to love the Masquerade,” he corrected her, “Think about it, though. It has caused so much trouble in all of our lives. It is where Amelia’s former intended found her.
Where Boyle found Theo. Where Abraham discovered how to black mail me- and you.
I do not believe I could host another party without fear of what is going to happen to us all next. ”
Ophelia pressed her lips tightly together as her brows tensed.
“There were good things as well, though. It is the place that brought us together,” she said quietly.
“True,” Tristan agreed, “However, if you marry me, we will not need a secret place to meet another.”
Tristan could not help but grin as Ophelia gasped in surprise.
“You want to marry me?” She asked.
“I do,” he agreed, “But not under your current circumstances.”
Ophelia’s brows furrowed in confusion.
“You were looking for a husband because of your father’s financial troubles,” Tristan explained, “Admirable, yes, but it went against everything that you are, and I do not want that.
“I spoke to Alistair and the others, he went on, “We are going to make John a silent partner in our spirit business. We will all contribute to his stock as secondary backers. That way when he passes, hopefully a long time from now, that stock will go back to us- which in turn we will give to you. To live your life as free as you want.”
Ophelia’s lips parted in shock as tears began to form in her eyes. She pressed her hands against Tristan’s chest, and he brought the horse to a stop. He helped Ophelia turn around in the saddle until she was facing him square on, and took in her beautiful features.
“You would do that for me?” She asked, “After everything that has happened? After you risked your life to save me, you would let me go if that was what I truly wanted?”
Tristan swallowed around the lump in his throat. His heart had fused back together with a quickness the moment they had kissed at Abraham’s, but it felt ready to fly apart again. The answer though, was simple.
“I know you cannot truly love me if a part of you always longed for the life you dreamt of,” he rasped. “But I know I truly love you, and that love means accepting you for precisely who you are, Ophelia. Wild, fierce, you, who bows to no one unless she truly wants to. So yes. I would.”
A heartbeat’s worth of silence passed between them. Two. Then Ophelia smoothed her hands from his chest up to his neck, wrapped her arms around him, and kissed him deeply.
A desperate groan escaped his lips as he pulled her into him, spending every second aware of the softness of her lips, the sweetness of her tongue. The warmth of her body pressed perfectly into his. Not at all sure if it was a kiss that sealed their union- or if it was a kiss goodbye.
Then tears of joy pricked his eyes as he heard her softly spoken words against his lips: “I love you. Lord Perfect. And I will indeed marry you.”