Chapter Seventeen
Evangeline huddled on the ground as reaction settled in. Had she truly just witnessed her husband kill a man? Shoot him dead and then walk away as if it didn’t matter?
When she eased upright into a kneeling position, her gaze happened to fall on Lord Echerson’s body which had fallen not far from her location. The metallic scent of blood mingled in her nose with the more pungent aroma of mud.
“Oh, good heavens…”
His eyes were still open, and the expression of shock perpetually frozen on the viscount’s face would forever haunt her.
“Lady Darkemore, are you injured?”
The sound of the Duke of Steppingford’s voice broke through the shock that surrounded her.
She peered up at the man, and slowly, awareness of the situation sank into her brain.
People had undoubtedly fled from the theater.
Some of them had come over, drawn by the sound of the gun shot, and now a loose circle was forming around them.
How embarrassing.
Blinking, she shook her head, for the duke clearly wished for a response.
“My neck aches a bit.” When she raised a hand to the area, she pulled it away.
Blood stained the white kid glove. “I thought he would slit my throat.” Realization seeped in.
“He would have killed me. I was supposed to be a friend…”
“I know.” The duke bent from the waist. He took her hand, basically pulled Evangeline up and into a standing position. “Life is perverse at times.” Without her leave, he inspected the skin of her neck and throat. “Some of those scratches will require attention and a salve to prevent scarring.”
Were all men monsters, then? Was life not sacred anymore?
Did they all wish to harm women? As if she moved through a dream, everything was slow and muffled.
The buzz of conversation barely reached her ears as she glanced beyond Steppingford.
The Duke of Ravenhurst escorted both their wives toward her location.
When the women saw her, they both broke away and joined her.
Soon after, she was held securely in the knot of their arms, and there was a certain comfort in having friends who were genuinely concerned about her.
Tears wet her cheeks, but she was barely aware of the moisture or the drizzle that fell upon her. It didn’t matter; nothing mattered now. Everything had changed. It seemed that everything she’d known before had been wrong, least of all her husband.
Eventually, she pulled away from the ladies and sought out Steppingford’s gaze. “Where is Michael?”
“I honestly don’t know.” Concern creased the man’s brow. “He walked by me without a hint of where he was headed.”
Hot panic went through Evangeline’s chest. “Do you believe he’ll harm himself after what he just did?”
“Darkemore has always been his own man, and he keeps his feelings close to his chest. I believe that he doesn’t wish to burden anyone with what he struggles with.”
She nodded. “Will you tell me the truth?”
“Of course.”
“Is Michael a bad person? Is there anything redeeming within him?” After watching her husband seemingly casually shoot a man and not show any sort of remorse, she didn’t know how she could continue to be with him.
If that didn’t make him feel anything, then nothing in this life would.
Had the experiences in his past completely broken him?
For long moments, the duke held her gaze as the crush of people wishing to gawk at the scene clustered around them.
Finally, he shrugged. “I won’t lie and say he doesn’t have a fair amount of darkness inside him.
No doubt you’ve seen it for yourself.” He pressed his lips together then blew out a breath.
“It had been my hope that once the two of you were matched, he might come toward the light and leave his past behind.”
“Do you think he could still do that?” Oh, how she wanted to believe that everything might work out for the best, but after what she just witnessed? Everything was in flux.
“I don’t know, but if we toss hope to the wind, we won’t have anything left.”
A ball of tears lodged in her throat, but she nodded. “I need to go after him. He can’t vanish without at least telling me goodbye.” If he wanted to give up on everything they’d built between them over the past two weeks, he could damn well tell that to her face.
Steppingford gave a slight nod. “I wish you well.”
Still in a daze, Evangeline glanced around the area. Ravenhurst and one of the other men in the area had shed their tailcoats and had covered Echerson’s body with those garments. In that, the man at least had a bit of dignity, yet a dark pool of blood seeped beneath the edges of those coverings.
Death was permanent; it was forever, and those who wielded it would never be free of those consequences.
“What will happen now?”
“The constable has been summoned. Depending on a few things, there might be an inquiry into Echerson’s death, but since there were more than a few witnesses who can detail the murder of Ravenhurst’s man-of-affairs and your kidnapping and attempted murder, I rather doubt anyone would wish to waste time with that.
Add to these facts his disloyalty to England?
” He shook his head. “I’ll wager Prinny and his circle will want this hushed up and forgotten. ”
Exhaustion seeped into her bones. It took all her strength to keep standing. “I’m going after my husband.”
“And if you’re not successful?” One of Steppingford’s eyebrows rose in inquiry.
“Then I’m not. He’s put order into place so that I’m taken care of.” Which was why he’d done it all along, she now realized. Darkemore had known throughout the course of their marriage that he wouldn’t remain in this life for a future.
That knowledge shredded her heart and hurt worse than every other ill she’d experienced.
“All the same, I’ll allow you a quarter of an hour then I’m coming after you. After what’s happened tonight, you shouldn’t be alone. Hell, you shouldn’t be with him just now.”
“I appreciate that.” Then she edged away, for the need to see her husband had grown overwhelming.
After pushing and shoving her way through the ever-increasing ring of bystanders, Evangeline followed the shadowy path through Covent Garden that would eventually lead to the front of the expansive gardens.
Was he even still here? As a former spy, he would know how to disappear, he would have hidden resources that would ensure he could vanish without a trace. If he willed it, she would never see him again.
Stumbling over her hem and random pebbles on the path, Evangline let the tears fall to her cheeks.
She dashed them from her cheeks as best she could, for her whole life was crumbling down around her ears.
As much as she had fought against marrying the duke, after spending time with him, she couldn’t imagine going forward without him.
Then he was there, waiting beneath a large oak tree, with a palm to the wide trunk and his head bowed, his chest heaving, the shock of light brown hair falling over his forehead in the way that made him all to endearing.
“Michael.”
His head jerked up as she spoke, and when she came toward him, he frowned. “Leave me alone, Evvie. You shouldn’t be seen with me.”
“It’s a bit late for that, don’t you think?” Annoyance went through her chest to collide with the fear and pain already lingering there. “Come home with me.”
It was far too dark for her to read his eyes as he stared at her, but his shoulders drooped. “I can’t go home; not anymore. I’ve murdered someone, as you have cause to know.” Though his deep baritone still sent tickles through her chest, there was also a trace of defeat in the tone.
“Yes, you shot Echerson in order to free me. I was taken hostage. He would have killed me.” She could still feel his arm like a band of iron around her chest, feel the point of his blade against her throat, and remembered the terror and the resignation she’d known in those moments.
“And he did murder that poor man-of-affairs in the opera box.” Mr. Trent had no idea that this evening would be his last. He’d been collateral damage in a game he didn’t know was being played.
Weren’t we all?
He shook his head. “That doesn’t matter and you know it.
” After pushing off the tree, he moved to stand before her, his hand tight on the head of his cane.
“I had a choice. I could have chosen to walk away, but I didn’t.
Many factors went into that decision; many reasons drove my response. Witnesses saw what I did.”
Every statement he made was true. How could she argue with it? Yet she couldn’t accept it. Not yet. “Echerson murdered Mr. Trent. In cold blood, no doubt as a distraction. That set it all off tonight. For that, you have every right to do what you did.”
He huffed out a breath. “Oh, he killed far more people than that unfortunate fellow tonight. If you think what he did to me was horrible, I could tell you tales…”
“Please don’t.” As she held up a hand, palm outward and the bloodstains visible, her stomach rebelled. “Just come home. We’ll figure everything out from there.”
“I can’t. The public doesn’t trust men who were spies because that life is steeped in lies.
Oh, they like to believe such an existence is romantic and thrilling, fighting in the shadows for the good of England.
But when questioned? They’d rather not be involved, for the not knowing is steeped in fear.
” For long moments, he held her gaze in the shadows.
When a group of men in evening clothing ran past accompanied by a man in a constable’s uniform, he shrank backward into the darkness further beneath the tree.
“There must be space between us so you can still have a life without the scourge of gossip and rumor.”
Panic slammed into her, and she swayed on her feet. How long would it be before she fainted from reaction? “You’re leaving London?” When he remained silent, she sighed. “Where are you going?”
“To Cornwall where I’ve wanted to be since surviving the horrors Echerson inflicted upon me.” Pain wove through his voice, pain and anger. Perhaps resignation.
“To do what? End your days because you have no purpose any longer?” Would he truly prove that selfish? This whole farce of a Drury Lane play was far too irritating because she rather thought she’d fallen in love with him despite all that he was, all that he’d done, all that he thought he was.
“For the past few years, putting an end to the Jackal has been my purpose. I planned for it, I thought about taking him out, I kept my mind primed until I could get close.”
“You used me for that.”
“Yes.”
At least he didn’t deny it. Tears welled in her eyes.
She didn’t care that the rain had wet her hair and was in the process of dampening her gown.
Instead, she joined him beneath the tree, came so close that the scent of sweat mingling with his cologne met her nose.
“Isn’t what we have together enough to give you a new purpose? A new path?”
“Ah, Evvie.” He peered down at her, and she had the feeling that he’d already given up. When he cupped her cheek, ran his gloved thumb over her chin, she trembled. “I’m not worthy of you, never have been, and you know it.”
“No.” Evangeline shook her head. Would she lose him? Shaking her head, she tried again to convince him. “We have made progress, a new commitment of sorts earlier this evening…”
A muscle ticced in his cheek. “It was stupid hope, nothing more.” He shook his head.
“Without me to hold you back, you’ll thrive.
You have the potential to be the toast of London society, not to waste your time caretaking a monster with a dark soul, whose wounds cut far too deep to find redemption. ”
“That’s not true. Any of it!” Clutching at his free hand, the one he considered weak, she brought it to her trembling lips. “We are a team. Together, we’re stronger. We can fight to restore your reputation, appeal to the Regent after this new evidence against Echerson comes out…”
“No.” His eyes glittered in the dark. “Let me protect you now when I failed before. If I’d been a better man, Echerson wouldn’t have been able to get to you in the first place.
I need to disappear, to hope that my permanent absence from London will allow the memories to fade into obscurity so that you can finally live a life of freedom. ”
“What good is freedom when I don’t have you?” How could he act so cold toward her? “Can you honestly say that you feel nothing for me? After what we’ve done together, after what we were together? What we can still be?”
Pain skittered across his face. “I…”
“And don’t lie, for your actions, especially tonight, have betrayed the fact that not only do you want to protect me, but you want to keep me safe.
Men like you only do that when they value the person above everything else.
” She continued to clutch at his hand. “When they are more important to you than anything in your life,” she added in a low voice.
“Oh, God.” The utterance was barely audible, but before she could respond, he swiftly bent his head, claimed her lips in an impossibly gentle kiss.
And in that swift embrace, she felt the finales of his goodbye.
When he pulled away, he set her from him.
“Forget about me, Evvie. You deserve more than a broken wreck of a man with a ragged soul.” His voice broke.
“I wish that you’ll find the happiness you need. ”
“You’re leaving anyway?” Tears welled in her eyes, blurring the world around her. This was so unfair! She fumbled in her reticule but couldn’t find her handkerchief.
“I must.” Darkemore pressed his into her hand. “Goodbye, Evvie.”
Then there was silence. In the brief time it took to wipe her eyes, he’d vanished from beneath the tree, and no amount of looking in the immediate area could locate him. Deep in her heart, she knew he would never return.
A feeling of vast emptiness filled her chest but at the same time acted as a vacuum. When she wanted to succumb to the faint pressing in on her, arms went around her and she found herself being drawn away from the area by the Duke of Steppingford as well as his wife.
“Take heart, Lady Darkemore. This is merely a low moment. Unless I miss my guess, your romance with my friend is far from over.”
I wish I could believe you.