Chapter Eighteen #2
He had to get to her, but all before him stretched like an endless winding road. The distance between him and the gates to the gardens felt miles and miles away. Time ticked in slow motion. What would he do if he did not get there in time? How would he live if something happened to her?
She had his heart, had for weeks.
He loved her.
He needed her.
“Lisbeth,” he said in a pained voice, increasing his speed.
His chest heaved with exertion and his thighs burned, but he didn’t care.
Bloody, bloody hell! Dalmere had been under their noses the whole time.
How had they not connected him with Blackhurst?
Dalmere used his own connection with Henry to play me, Oliver thought.
It was like Dalmere had orchestrated this whole mess with Lisbeth, Tony, and the speculation.
What then of the Black Raven wager and his insistence that she was not to be trusted? Had he been setting him up?
Tony had distrusted Lisbeth, too, but he knew Tony would never have run all around London looking for him unless he knew his information about Dalmere was accurate. This only made him more anxious about Lisbeth. He had to have her safe in his arms. But first he was going to kill Dalmere.
Tony caught up to him, but they exchanged no words and just kept on running. Finally, the gates of Vauxhall gardens appeared. They didn’t stop to pay the entry fee but ran right past and into the crowd.
“Eh? Nobody gets through my gates wifout payin’,” the gate keeper yelled as, at his direction, his thug took off in pursuit of Oliver and Tony.
Oliver pointed towards where the balloon ascension was being held, and they both headed for the crowd. Damn! How would they find Lisbeth in this crush? Both of them started to ask people if they had seen Lady Blackhurst. One gentleman pointed towards the path that led to the supper tents.
The thug was catching up, yelling for them to stop. “Hey, you buggers. I’m coming after you, I am. You better stop now or else I’m gunna have to thump ya.”
Tony and Oliver started running again. If the thug kept following them he’d be useful as a witness when they found Dalmere.
Panic swelled when he saw how many supper tents, all identical, were lined up on both sides of the path, ready to please the crowd after the ascension.
He damped it down. He used every technique he had ever learned in the army to control his emotions and do his job.
He concentrated on his breathing. Find her.
“You take one side. I’ll take the other,” Oliver instructed.
That’s when they heard her scream.
*
Dalmere laughed again when he saw she was about to scream the tent down.
“Save your breath, Lady Blackhurst. Screaming in a place like this will only give you a sore throat, and that is my job, eventually. One doesn’t want to rush these things.
I want to enjoy toying with you like your husband toyed with us. ”
Lisbeth’s eyes burned with tears, but she didn’t want Dalmere to see them.
She looked around the tent searching for any possible escape route.
The tents were pegged down tightly at the bottom with the only opening being at the front.
She watched him as he took a long swallow from a flask he’d just taken out of his jacket pocket.
He took another swig while he considered her.
“I had hoped to save us both from this unpleasant business, but like an irritating fly you would not leave. I thought that the trial would get you out of the way, but somehow you managed to elude execution or even transportation.” He shook his head. “It was inconceivable.”
He recapped the flask and returned it to his pocket. “Technicalities are the bane of our legal system it seems. Then I thought to make your life such a living misery by spreading some malicious rumors.”
Lisbeth’s mouth fell open. “You started all those rumors about me?”
He gave her a self-satisfied smile. She wanted to slap him, but that would mean placing herself within his reach.
“Such a cunning plan if I don’t say so myself,” he said.
“The Black Raven idea was mine too. It took off with the ferocity of a tenement fire. I couldn’t have been more pleased at the time.
I have to admit I thought it would drive you over the pond, or even to the Americas, but you are one stubborn female.
” He studied her for a moment which made her edge a little more along the wall.
“I suppose you think Bellamy will come and save you. He won’t, you know.
I think he will be relieved, actually, once you are dead.
With you out of the picture he can do as he originally planned and marry a rich heiress and rebuild his life.
Thanks to his brother, he is quite in the suds.
It is all a bit pathetic actually. He came to me that night trying to find a way to get some money.
I suggested the Black Raven wager. Didn’t think you’d let him in, of course, because you never had before, but look how well it worked out.
” He gestured around them. “He has been collecting a tidy sum, and you have been helping him.”
She knew of Oliver’s financial situation, but Dalmere did not know she knew.
Nor did he seem to know that Oliver had not collected on any of the wagers bar the first one.
He was trying to taunt her, make her think Oliver did not care for her.
She knew her heart. Despite her efforts a tear slipped unbidden down her cheek.
She wiped it away but not quickly enough that Dalmere did not see it.
“Ah, I see that you have feelings for him. Your eyes tell me everything. He would never have married you in any case; surely you knew that?”
She knew, had perhaps always known, but these last few weeks had been so joyous she had let her mind and her heart think otherwise.
“Tainting his family line would be just as bad as the scandal his poverty would have had on his reputation. He would not risk his family name for you,” Dalmere explained. “It is all he has, after all, thanks to Blackhurst.”
Lisbeth knew she should not let his words wound her, but they did, simply because she knew what he was saying was essentially true.
Although, she had hoped that her reputation would simply fade away, or that the ton would get bored with hating her.
She had been fooling herself. A woman’s reputation was all she had, and Lisbeth had lost all respectability long ago.
Thanks to Bellamy she had come to be barely tolerated by the ton, but she knew she would never be able to remove the stain of her past.
She turned all her anger and hurt towards Dalmere in a look that should have made him burst into flames and combust right then and there.
Instead he laughed. “Oh, did you think he would? What a fool you are.”
Oliver might never have married her, but he loved her. She could feel it with every beat of her heart. Whatever his feelings about her, he would never have knowingly placed her into the hands of this mad man who wanted to kill her.
Dalmere went over to the curtained entrance and pulled the curtain cord from its hook, winding it around his hands.
Lisbeth gasped. Her heart stilled in the cold knowledge that she would never see Oliver again. Never get to tell him how much she loved him.
“You don’t know how long I have dreamed of killing you,” Dalmere said as he advanced.
“There are so many ways to kill, you see. I decided the most enjoyable way would be strangulation.” He gave the rope a quick tug as if to test its sturdiness.
“It’s fairly quick. It’s not messy and well, I think I will take much pleasure in watching the life fade from your eyes. ”
Lisbeth couldn’t take her eyes off the rope. She was trapped like a wounded animal and panic had set in. Now she was almost panting with distress. No, this was not how she wanted her life to end.
She used all her might, and all the courage she could muster, and slapped him hard across the face. The sound of her palm connecting with his cheek echoed through the tent as she scrambled to get to the entrance.
“You stupid cow!” He lurched for her from behind and Lisbeth screamed and knocked over everything that she could get her hands on, kicking out at Dalmere with all her might.
Nathaniel had liked it when she fought him; Dalmere seemed to like it too. There was no escape. Tears sprang in her eyes, but she forced them back; she would not die meekly.
He put the cord around her neck, and she tried to scream again. He swung her around and onto the ground. She looked straight into his eyes. She was mad to think he had an ounce of humanity in him.
Her hands came up to the rope at her neck. The pressure was uncomfortable, but she could still breathe. Dalmere was breathing hard.
He pulled the rope tighter. Lisbeth gasped against the pressure on her throat. “I should have shot you like I did Blackhurst and have done with you,” he said as he put even more pressure on her throat.
Lisbeth tried to kick out but the tent was getting dim.
She gasped but no air came to relieve the heaviness in her chest. Oliver. I love you. I’m sorry.
Oliver flew inside the tent, grabbed Dalmere off Lisbeth, and threw him onto his back.
Dalmere’s expression was shocked. Oliver looked over at Lisbeth lying motionless on the ground.
Dalmere distracted him by rolling back to his feet and throwing a punch that landed wide on Oliver’s cheek.
Oliver gave him an uppercut to the jaw that sent Dalmere sprawling again.
Blood oozed from the side of Dalmere’s mouth.
“You’re too late, Bellamy. I’ve already killed her,” Dalmere chuckled.
“Tony?” Oliver demanded.
Tony knelt by Lisbeth’s side. “She’s alive,” he said.
“No!” Dalmere replied. The shock was evident on his face. He elbowed Oliver in the chest, but Oliver was focused now on one thing. Punishing Dalmere. He punched Dalmere again and again, only mildly satisfied by the sound of bones breaking.