Chapter 17 #3
Crell was tall, almost as tall as Darius, but a little more thickly built around the middle. There was a cold cruelty that corrupted his otherwise handsome features into something harsh and off-putting.
He came toward her. “So, you’re the one who sent me that letter? I thought it might be Tiverton.”
“I know what you did to your wife.”
Crell’s brown eyes narrowed. “Do you, now? And just what did I supposedly do?”
“You murdered her. The woman at your country home pretending to be her is your mistress.” Meredith hoped he would say something to confirm this. Doyle needed some concrete bit of proof before he could arrest the man.
“Your letter mentions proof. What proof do you have? I am innocent of any crime.”
Her voice grew stronger. “An innocent man wouldn’t have come here.”
“Oh no? And what if I’m here to clear up a misunderstanding? Perhaps I want to know what it is you plan to reveal so I can defend myself.”
“Come now, Mr. Crell, we both know what you did. Why don’t you simply admit it?”
“I admit nothing.” He glanced around. “And you’ve made a terrible mistake attempting to blackmail me.”
Crell’s words gave Meredith a sudden burst of inspiration. “Of course it’s a mistake.”
That threw him for a loop. “Pardon?”
“Blackmail is never a one-time thing, is it?” said Meredith. “Blackmailers demand regular payments, and even when they say a payment is the last one, you never truly know if that’s the last you’ll hear of them. It’s a prison, Mr. Crell.”
Crell frowned, not knowing where Meredith was going with this. Chances were Mr. Doyle and Warren were equally baffled, but she pressed on.
“And you’ve only just escaped one prison, haven’t you?
Life with Minerva couldn’t have been easy for you.
Always requiring attention. Unable to care for herself.
Even when you had staff to take care of her for you, the extra cost must have been draining.
All for a woman you didn’t even have feelings for, and who taxed your patience every single day.
“But you found a way out, didn’t you? One small act, and you could finally escape from your prison. You could finally be free. Have you enjoyed your freedom, Mr. Crell? Or have you found yet another prison? One of your own design?”
Crell looked uncomfortable, his teeth braced in rising anger. Meredith was on the right track. “Do you still see her face at night, Mr. Crell? Is it one of shock and horror? Does she call your name? Does she ask you why?”
Crell lunged for her. Meredith leapt back, but not quickly enough. He latched onto her left arm and yanked her toward him. She screamed as he wrapped his hand around her throat. Crell slammed her against the garden wall and began to squeeze the life out of her.
“Stupid woman, you couldn’t leave well enough alone, could you!” he snarled.
Meredith clawed at his hands, her vision dotting with stars as her lungs screamed for air.
Crell loomed above her, his face twisted with a violent sneer.
It was so hard to think, so hard to keep struggling against the hands that were squeezing the very life out of her, until her mind blurred with a torrent of memories.
Uncle Ben walking with her in the gardens.
Her mother laughing in the sunlight as she chased Meredith along the beach.
Her first sight of Darius in the doorway.
Darius making love to her in the gardens.
Darius smiling at her, holding her, telling her that she owned him body and soul. Darius loving her…
All went dark.
* * *
The moment the coach arrived at Knightley Street, Darius leapt from the coach while it was still moving and ran for his townhouse. Kit and the others were right behind him as he burst through the front door, nearly knocking Chelsea over as he hurried to the back gardens.
A scream pierced the air, followed by shouting.
Darius ran blindly, madly toward the direction of the scream.
When he reached the back garden wall he leapt onto the bench and vaulted over the garden wall just as Frances stood frantically beside the bench trying to see what was happening.
Darius landed in crouch, pain shooting up his bad leg, but that pain paled in comparison in comparison to the sight that met his eyes.
Warren and Doyle had Crell’s arms and were attempting to pin him down on the ground, but the man was struggling, nearly tossing them off. Meredith lay inert a few feet away, her face was an unnaturally dark color and her eyes closed.
Oh God…
“Darius!” Warren shouted. “See to Meredith! This bastard is stronger than he looks—” he grunted as Crell threw his body up, nearly tossing Warren onto his backside.
Darius knelt by Meredith’s body, lifting her up into his arms and cradling her against his chest.
“Come on, my darling, breathe,” he gasped. It felt like he couldn’t breathe either, like he was dying just as she seemed to be.
No…please no… He choked on the thought that he might have lost her.
He should have been here with her, protecting her, loving her, proving that he believed in her, not keeping secrets from her.
Suddenly Meredith gasped and descended into a fit of coughing, her body curling up in a ball.
“Thank Christ.” He held her even closer, oblivious to everything else around him. All that mattered was that she was alive. “Easy, sweetheart, just breathe.”
“Help us lift him up.” Doyle’s voice intruded on Darius’s focus. He turned up to see Felix help Warren and Doyle get Crell onto his feet.
“Louis Crell, you are under arrest for the attempted murder of Miss Montague. But rest assured, that won’t be the only charge.
” Crell was barely conscious now, wavering on his feet.
Then the man was escorted away, but Darius did not care.
All that mattered was the woman he held in his arms. Meredith’s lashes fluttered as she gazed up at him.
“D—Darius?” she wheezed. “I didn’t think…I’d get to see you before…”
“Hush darling,” he said, noting the deep red marks around her neck. “You need to rest. That man nearly killed you. Your vocal cords will likely be damaged.” He stood up, lifting her in the cradle of his arms.
“Take me home,” she whispered, and slipped into unconsciousness again.
Kit joined Darius, looking around warily as if expecting more men to jump out of the shadows. “Is she all right?”
“I’m not sure. She’s passed out again. We need the doctor to see to her at once.”
“Of course.” Kit left and Darius carried Meredith home, just as she’d asked.
The doctor arrived shortly after Darius settled Meredith in her bedchamber.
She hadn’t opened her eyes, but she seemed to be resting peacefully.
The bruises that had started to darken along her neck, a sight that drove painfully into Darius’s gut.
He left her side reluctantly when the doctor asked, so as to allow the man enough room to examine her.
“She woke for a moment and then lost consciousness again,” he informed the doctor.
Dr. Bradburn nodded as he began his inspection. He checked her breathing first, then lifted her lids and peered into them.
“She will have a sore throat and her eyes will be bloodshot, but I believe she will heal without any complications,” Dr. Bradburn said. “She is likely exhausted from the struggle. I will give her some laudanum for the pain. That will also help her sleep.”
Darius could only nod and hold Meredith’s hand as she rested. The doctor poured some laudanum onto a spoon and parted Meredith’s lips. She stirred slightly, frowning and licking her lips as she took the medicine. Satisfied, the doctor took his leave.
Frances brought Darius dinner, but he didn’t touch it. He had no appetite. He kept replaying that moment of finding her limp and nearly lifeless. She had almost died. The woman he loved so much he was going mad with it. His future wife.
And for what? To catch a murderer, because she hadn’t trusted him.
She’d gone to Warren instead. His own friends had kept him in the dark.
He was left with an empty feeling inside.
He’d believed they’d trusted one another, and that there would be no more secrets.
Yet she’d kept one that had almost killed her. And so, after a fashion, had he.
Holding her hand, he brushed the pad of his thumb over her skin.
“Why didn’t you trust me?” he whispered. “We were going to catch him. I just needed more time.”
They had started this investigation together, but somewhere along the way, she’d stopped confiding in him.
Would their marriage be like that? Would he lose her trust as a husband someday, just as he had in this matter?
He couldn’t imagine doing anything that would drive her away, but now that fear grew inside his chest, making him ill at the mere thought of it.
He sat at Meredith’s side until his body ached from the bent position. When the moon rose high in the sky, the bedchamber door opened.
Warren’s voice pulled him out of his bleak thoughts. “How is she?”
A crimson veil descended over his vision. Darius leapt up and charged at Warren. He struck a blow against his friend that sent Warren reeling back into the corridor.
“How is she?” he hissed. “She almost bloody died!” Darius’s fear exploded through him, turning into a molten rage. “You nearly killed the woman I love, and you expect me to just sit here and—”
“Darius I—”
“She chose to confide in you over me. How could you let her do that? And because she trusted you, she nearly died!
“Darius, I—” Warren lifted his hands in surrender. “It was a sound plan—”
“That was not your decision to make!”
“No, it was hers,” Warren said. “She blames herself for the death of Crell’s wife.”
That stopped Darius, but only a moment.
“This was something she believed she had to do,” said Warren. “Because she did nothing when it might have mattered.”
“That woman’s death is not Meredith’s fault,” Darius growled.
“I know,” said Warren. “But she’s never believed that. It was tearing her up inside. That’s why I agreed to help her. I never—”
“Get out!” Darius snarled. “Get out before I do something I will regret.”
Warren’s face shuttered as he turned and walked quickly away.
Darius’s body was still shaking as he went back into Meredith’s bedchamber. He closed the door and sank down with his back against the wood, then covered his face in his hands and wept.
All of his life, he’d endured loss. As a boy, he’d lost his mother’s loving compassion, and as a young man when he’d needed the loving support of his friends most, he’d lost Kit to the penal colonies for a crime Kit hadn’t committed.
For seven years he’d believed that he might never see Kit again, a man that was as close as a brother to him.
And when he held his head up, and carried on despite the pain raging like a tempest in his heart and soul, he’d lost his father, the kind, generous man who’d taught him to be everything he had become.
He’d quarreled with Uncle Ben and never had a chance to make things right before he died.
Through it all, Darius had held his head up. Maintained appearances. But now he was breaking. Because the one person he could not afford to lose, the one person who held his heart like no other, had almost been lost to him.
Tears soaked his hands as he tried to calm himself, but he still felt like he couldn’t breathe. He could not lose Meredith. He would never survive if he did.