Chapter 71
“Who are you?” Graham said again, but deep down, some part of Graham recognized him. He moved closer to Cam, took her hand, squeezed it. She was steady, staring as he was at the man.
The young man laughed. “I see you don’t recognize me. How depressing that seeing me doesn’t bring your memory snapping back.”
“No, I don’t know you.” Graham studied the man, young, about his own age, tall, lean, dark coloring, a beard covering his cheeks, his gentleman’s clothes wrinkled. His eyes were dark. Something elusive stirred again, faded away.
The gun he held never wavered. “Of course you don’t remember the extreme tide here in Sally’s Cove. It fills the cave twice a day, impossible to stay here because it’s always damp. I was forced to stay in an empty crofter’s cottage near my father. After you murdered him, I moved into his house.”
He gave them a big smile, and that smile was vicious.
“I never really doubted I would win out in the end. This time, though, I will admit it, I was lucky. As I said I hadn’t yet decided how to proceed, but here you are and everything is now clear to me.
This night I’ll be returning to Brussels. Well, for a time.”
He smiled at Cam, a sneering smile that made her go cold to her soul.
“And you are the new wife. I daresay if I hadn’t struck the beam so it split apart in the abbot’s office, I would have seen the two of you mate right there on the stone floor.
I admit I wanted to see you naked, you’re really quite lovely.
” He paused, his eyes falling to her breasts.
“It’s a pity I can’t ever have you and more a pity you didn’t die when the beam struck your head. ”
Cam felt rage build. She sneered back at him. “Well now, I didn’t die, did I, so you did a pitiful job, didn’t you? All this braying—nothing you’re saying makes any sense. Who are you?”
He laughed. “What a bitch you are, but I must admit, I was impressed when you saved him. You were fast, I’ll give you that, throwing yourself on him to protect him.
I didn’t know a lady would do that.” He looked at Graham and again he sneered.
“Of course you know me, Graham Hepburn, regardless of how much I’ve changed since you last saw me.
Of course I would know you anywhere, those eyes of yours that Madeline passed on to you.
Yes, you have her distinctive eyes, but my father said I have some of her expressions.
Of course I don’t remember since she died when I was only four.
“I made fun of you when we were young, said you were too pretty to be a real boy and as I recall you’d pound me when I couldn’t outrun you. Being older, of course, you always won. But now, both of us are men, both of nearly the same size, and you will no longer win.
“Look at you—such a hero you look—and such accomplishments, so impressive for one so young. I daresay I am smarter, though. My father told me this one had a fine dowry, but I, I outdid you in wives. I wedded a young lady far richer than this one here. Her poor father passed soon thereafter, with just a bit of help from me, and I now own a good deal of Brussels.”
Cam stared at him, and now she knew all of it, and it was horrible and evil. Of course Graham knew as well. What was he thinking? Feeling? She couldn’t imagine the depth of this betrayal.
Cam said, “I’ll wager while Madeline lived she never had an ugly sneer on her mouth. You’re Simon, you’re Graham’s younger brother.”
He gave her a bow. “Just so, sister-in-law. Yes, I’m Simon Hepburn.”
He turned to Graham. “What, nothing to say to your long-lost brother? Well, no matter.” He turned back to Cam. “He’s only my half brother, as I’m sure you’ve figured out.”
Graham stared at this man, his brother, no, his half brother.
Simon wanted him dead. It was hard to grasp, to make real, yet it made a horrible sense.
His father was Uncle Tally, yet another man who’d wanted what his brother had.
Graham knew he had to stop this madness, had to stop him.
Time, he needed time. He lightly squeezed Cam’s hand.
She squeezed his back. He felt her calm, her focus and admired her greatly.
Graham said, “Tell me how this happened.”
“Well, why not? I am lonely, truth be told, no one to talk to since you murdered my father. Yes, yes, I know you and this wife of yours swore he killed himself, and if indeed he did, it was to save me.”
Graham nodded. “Yes, he killed himself to save you, though I can’t see that you’re worth saving at all.”
The gun jerked in Simon’s hand and Graham very nearly threw Cam to the floor of the cave.
“Shut up, damn you!” Simon waved the gun between the two of them, let it come back to rest on Cam’s face. He drew a shuddering breath, then he smiled at them, a ghastly smile that terrified Cam.
Simon laughed. “Not worth saving, am I? I’m the one, not you, to make the St. Lucy line truly great and more importantly, powerful.
I will bring wealth from Brussels and I will have limitless influence here.
I will control lives, I will control the future.
I am the true heir, not you, a worthless little inventor.
” Simon drew a deep breath. “So you want to know how all this came about. Why not tell you, we have time. When I was young I looked quite a bit like our mother, but then when I was no longer a child my father told me I began to resemble him until he knew our likeness would be too great to be ignored, and he feared for me, and for himself, of course. He told me when I was still a small child he began to devise a plan. What plan, you ask? He wanted me to be the Viscount Whitestone then Earl St. Lucy, not you, brother.” Simon paused, shook his head.
“He knew he had to act. My father convinced yours to send us to Paris with our tutor since he had many friends there and all wanted to meet his nephews. And so it happened just as he’d wished.
After he believed you were dead, he killed the tutor, a pathetic little man, and he took me to Brussels. ”
Graham said slowly, “Yes, even with the beard, I see the resemblance between you and Tally.”
“Ah, the irony of it all. You will finally go to your grave with no memory of either your father or your mother—our mother—or of me, your half brother. My father assured me he would arrange an accident for the earl and then I could come home and take what was mine. I would be Earl St. Lucy. There would be no questions for my father made certain I had all the papers to prove my identity as the long-lost son, Simon.” Again, the ugly sneer marred his mouth.
“But I couldn’t come home because my father couldn’t bring himself to kill his brother.
He was weak, something I didn’t realize until I was older.
He told me he loved Vereker, you see, something I railed against. He kept telling me Vereker would die soon, he was so much older, now wasn’t he?
And I had to understand I couldn’t come home sooner because Vereker would see not only Madeline in me but my father as well.
And so I grew up with a rich banker in Brussels, a man whose life my father had saved at Waterloo.
I was educated as a gentleman, just as you were.
And I had to wait, I had no choice. My father visited me for two weeks every month, taught me who and what I was, what I would become, what was destined for me.
As to the banker, he was a kind man, and he never questioned me why I wasn’t at home at King’s Head.
Whatever my father told him must have been very moving.
My father told me over and over to be patient, that all would come to me one day.
He kept my dream alive, stoked it with promises of the power he knew I would someday wield and I would someday take my rightful place, but not yet, no, not yet. ”
Cam said, “It isn’t your rightful place, it is Graham’s.”
Simon flicked his gun at her. “What you believe no longer matters.”
Graham said, “Finish your tale.”
“Very well, half brother. It was only three months ago my father discovered you still lived, but you had absolutely no memory. But he and I both lived in fear you would recover your memory any day and all would be lost. He knew he had to act.”