Chapter 18 #2
“Darius, I am sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean to keep my plans from you because I didn’t trust you.
I do trust you. It’s just that well…I thought I could catch him.
I had to…I owed it to Mrs. Crell because I failed to save her when I should have known he was hurting her.
That’s why I kept my plans a secret, because I knew you would say it was too dangerous. ”
“That’s because it was dangerous,” a deep voice growled.
A voice that did not belong to Darius.
The man turned around and in a brief moment of illumination, she saw the face was not that of the man she loved, but the man she feared.
“Crell!” she gasped. Terror the likes of which she’d never known before dug into her chest, making it impossible to breathe.
He struck her across the face with the back of his hand and she collapsed to the floor. Her head swam as her head throbbed with pain.
“How did you know what I’d done?” He hissed above her as he stood looming over her. “How?” He grabbed her by the hair and wrenched her head up to look up at him.
“The w—window…” She tried to point, but her left arm ached from her body landing on it.
“I suspected as much,” he snarled. “Not that it matters now. If I’m to be banished to some foreign bloody continent for attempting to kill you, I might as well finish the deed.
” He hauled her up to her feet, her neck imprisoned within the grip of his large, powerful hand. He dragged her toward the open window.
“No!” She struggled as he tried to force her out of the window.
Meredith fought to free herself of Crell’s hold.
She tried to scream again, but her vocal chords were too bruised to manage anything above a soft cry.
Her grip on his arms slipped and she started to fall.
She scrambled to catch at something, anything.
Her fingers caught the lip of the windowsill.
Meredith jerked to a sudden stop hanging above the terrace, pain shooting through her shoulders
Crell leaned over, his face painted by moonlight as he stared at her.
“No…” she rasped. “Please…”
A demonic fury lit his eyes as he leaned over her, his hands digging at her fingertips to pry them away.
She tried to move her hands away from him, but it was no use. She couldn’t hang here forever, and sooner or later, he would pry her fingers loose. She tried not to think about the fact that in a matter of moments she was going to fall…
A roar shook the windows and disturbed the lonely nightingale in a nearby tree that had been watching these events. With a look of terror on his face, Crell was jerked away from the window and dragged into the darkness. It could only be one person.
“Darius!”
Meredith clawed, trying to pull herself up in the window, but she was too weak. Her fingers began to slip…
* * *
Darius’s fist struck Crell hard in the jaw, but the man had come prepared for a fight. He pulled a long blade from his waistcoat, which flashed in the dim light.
“You’ll hang for this, Crell,” Darius growled. “No matter what.”
“Do you think I care?” Crell snapped. “I won’t be trapped in another prison, my marriage was prison enough!”
Darius feinted left, then dove to the right as Crell lunged, swinging his blade.
Taking advantage of his now exposed side, Darius buried his fist in Crell’s stomach.
Crell staggered, but a strangled scream from Meredith snapped Darius’s focus away from the fight.
She was hanging from the window, barely keeping her grip.
Darius leapt toward the window just as Meredith’s fingers slipped from the edge of the sill.
abandoning the fight with Crell even if it meant leaving his back exposed.
He had a mere instant to realize Meredith was falling.
He grabbed her by the wrists just as her fingers let go of the edge of the sill.
The weight of her body jerked his shoulders roughly, but he held fast.
A sudden, blinding pain nearly made him to let go of Meredith. Darius heard Crell’s cold, breathless laugh just as his blade pierced Darius’s back.
“I say, can anyone join in this dance?” Another voice called out. Crell was pulled off Darius, but he didn’t dare look to see what was happening for fear of losing his grip. The strength was bleeding out of him, and he was unable to pull Meredith up.
“Meredith… I can’t… I can’t lift you…”
“Let me go,” she said, her eyes beginning to fill with tears. “It’s all right…just let go…”
“Never,” he vowed, even as his vision began to turn black.
Bang! The report of a pistol nearly deafened him. There was a hard thud near Darius, but he dared not break his concentration. He had to hold on.
“Steady, old boy, let me help.” Warren appeared at his side, reaching past him to grab Meredith’s arm. A flood of relief gave Darius that extra bit of strength he needed to not let go.
“Hold on,” Warren called to Meredith. He and Darius pulled her up the side of the house and back through the window. She stumbled on her dressing gown as she tried to put her feet down on the floor. Darius moved to catch her and steady her.
“Are you hurt?” he asked, ignoring how hard it was to breathe. All that mattered right now was Meredith.
She shook her head, her hazel eyes now swimming with tears.
Darius pulled her into his arms, cradling her against him, never wanting to let go of her again. “Oh, sweetheart.”
Darius glanced down at the floor. Crell lay dead next to them. His sightless eyes reflecting the moonlight from the open window. “How the devil did he get inside? I thought Doyle took him away.”
“I have no bloody idea. It’s a damn good thing I didn’t leave. I was wandering around the gardens trying to think of a way to apologize to you, old boy, when I saw Meredith and Crell struggling at the window.”
Darius met Warren’s gaze, a friend who had always been there for him, yet he had chased Warren away in a fit of anger. If his friend had listened to him and left his house…he and Meredith would both be dead. A well of deepest brotherly love surged within him for this man he called his friend.
He almost choked with emotions as he spoke. “Warren, I’m sorry I spoke to you as I did. I wasn’t thinking clearly. I shouldn’t have—”
“Yes, you should have.” Warren didn’t look away from Darius. “I was a fool. I should have convinced Meredith to tell you about her plan. Instead, I let her put herself in danger. You can be angry at me for the next century if you need to.”
“Right now, I’m glad you are so bloody stubborn that you didn’t leave after I threw you out.”
“What’s happened?” Frances’s panicked voice at the door, drew his attention.
Frances and Mr. Chelsea, along with the rest of the house servants now appeared in the doorway.
“My goodness, is that Mr. Crell?” Chelsea asked.
“Are you all right, Your Grace?” a maid asked.
“Warren, send for Doyle. Chelsea, see that Meredith is looked at by the doctor. I must…” He took a step forward and his legs gave out beneath him.
“I must…” he repeated slowly as his vision spiraled and the light shrank into darkness.
* * *
“Darius!” Meredith tried to catch him as he fell, but he was too heavy. She collapsed with him on the floor. Darius didn’t move.
“Damnation.” Warren cursed as he pushed Darius’s waistcoat and shirt up to examine the bleeding puncture wound on his lower back. Then he noticed the blade on the floor by Crell which gleamed red with Darius’s blood.
“Was he was stabbed?” Meredith nearly choked on the words, terrified by the thought of losing him.
“Don’t give up on him yet,” Warren said as if he could read her thoughts. “It doesn’t look deep. And it looks too low to have pictured a lung, that’s the true danger, that and organs being pierced.
Meredith’s stomach convulsed at the thought of all that could have gone wrong and that Darius wasn’t out of danger.
Chelsea and Frances helped Warren and Meredith get Daruis on Meredith’s bed, laying him on his stomach. Meredith used a wadded up cloth and pressed it hard against the wound to slow the flow of blood.
It took an age for the doctor to arrive. Meredith was forced to get out of the man’s way so he could treat Darius’s wound. Frances held up a lamp for the doctor as he got to work.
Doyle arrived just as the doctor finished stitching up the wound. Warren wasted no time in confronting the man.
“What the devil was he doing here, Doyle? You had him in custody!”
Doyle rubbed a weary hand over his stubble-shadowed jaw. “He escaped.”
“That much is obvious,” Warren countered. “And you didn’t think to tell us? How did he escape?”
“He feigned illness and attacked the guard who entered the cell to check on him. Roberts is a new lad who only just started with us. Almost got himself killed. We’d been scouring the coaching inns of London and the docks, thinking he meant to flee the city.
I never imagined he would come back here. ”
“The man knew he wouldn’t escape his fate,” said Warren, looking down at the body. “So he set his hopes on revenge.”
Doyle gave Meredith an apologetic look. “I am sorry for all that you suffered, Miss Montague. But it is ended now.”
“Is it?” Meredith whispered. “We’ll never know what became of his wife.”
“I think we might have a chance to find answers still,” Warren said. “His mistress is in the country and so is that blasted butler. They must know at least part of this tragedy.”
“I had that same thought the moment Crell escaped. We are sending men to his country house as we speak.”
The doctor cleared his throat.
“Well?” Warren’s tone went quiet. “How is he?”
“I believe he will live. Tiverton has the devil’s own luck, I will say that much,” said the doctor. “This is the second blade wound which has missed his organs.”
“Devil’s own luck indeed,” Warren said with unconcealed relief. “I shall have to tell the others, but it can wait until morning.”