Darling Beast

He let the front of George’s shirt go and his head thudded against the ground.



Apollo turned on his knees and cupped her sweet face with his unclean hands. “How?” he choked. “I saw you die. I saw you fall dead to the ground.”



“The pistol fired over my shoulder,” she whispered. “Apollo, what have you done to your poor hands?”



“God!” he cried, pulling her face down to his, kissing her nose and cheeks and eyelids, making sure she still lived and breathed. “Dear God, Lily, never do that to me again.”



“I won’t, love.” Tears were making muddy streaks through the gunpowder on her cheek. “Ow, that stings.”



Richard Perry, Baron Ross stepped out from the bushes. “Get away from her.”



“Sod off,” Apollo retorted, possibly because he was too tired to be surprised.



“Get away from her or I’ll shoot her.” Ross, of course, had not one but two pistols.



Reluctantly Apollo stood and took a step away from Lily. “We really must talk, darling, about the sort of riffraff you bring to secret meetings.”



“I didn’t know he was there,” Lily said grumpily.



“Did you really think my good friend George wouldn’t tell me about my son?” Ross said. “Jesus, he said this would be easy—capture you, Kilbourne, and get my son. Look at this mess now. Have you killed George?”



“Sadly, no,” Apollo replied without glancing at the man on the ground. He could hear his cousin’s harsh breathing. “Put the damned gun down.” He was becoming tired of people pointing guns at his Lily.



Ross ignored him, his gaze worryingly focused on Lily. “Where is he? Where is Indio?”



And before Apollo could think of what to do, Lily opened her mouth.



Chapter Twenty



Then the monster rose, his massive shoulders bunched, his hands fisted, his bull’s head lowered, the two curved horns pointed menacingly at Theseus. The lad didn’t hesitate. With a warlike cry he ran at the monster, his sword raised. The monster did not move until the last moment, and then with a brutally swift toss of his head he impaled the youth upon his horns…



—From The Minotaur



“Are you insane?” Lily asked Ross pleasantly. “Do you really think I’d tell you where he is after you beat his mother, my dearest friend, to death?”



“Tell me or I’ll shoot you,” he replied, not very originally, but it still put a thrill of fear into Apollo’s heart.



“Lily,” Apollo said gently.



Lily crossed her arms. “Go ahead, then. I’ll not give my son up to a rat like you.”



“Don’t you mean my son?” he snapped back, stupid and irate.



Apollo lost what little patience he still had. “Damn it, Montgomery, aren’t you ever going to act?”



“Oh, fine,” the duke replied sulkily from behind him and shot Richard in the leg.



Richard fell to the ground, moaning.



Lily blinked. “What—?”



The duke glanced at his pistol and frowned. “Pulls a bit to the right. I was aiming for his groin.” He toed Ross’s pistols away from the writhing man and turned to Apollo. “I’ll have you know this entire business has been a loss to me—a dead loss.”



Lily blinked again and looked uncertainly at Apollo. “How—?”



Apollo pulled her into his arms. He was still quite shaken from having nearly lost her, and the warmth of her body was a balm. “Shh. There’s no point in trying to get him to make sense. Best to just let him ramble. I learned that on the carriage ride to London.”



“He was such a lovely pigeon,” Montgomery said mournfully, watching Richard writhe on the ground. “A secret marriage, a hidden heir. I could’ve milked him for years.”



“You were going to blackmail him for money?” Lily asked.



“Money?” The duke looked affronted. “Nothing so crass. Information, knowledge, leverage. That’s the sort of stuff I adore. But”—Montgomery sighed gustily, folding his arms with his pistol dangling from one hand—“my sentimental heart got the better of me. That, and I really do want this garden finished. Kilbourne is the most imaginative gardener I’ve ever encountered.”



Lily’s eyes widened and she turned to Apollo as if only just now realizing something. “You brought him with you to meet me?”



He shrugged. “It seemed like a good precaution. After all, I intended to flee with you from England and I wasn’t sure if you’d be followed here.”



“But I thought you didn’t trust him,” she complained.



“I don’t, mostly.” He grimaced. “But he did help me get away from my uncle’s house.”



“And I shot Ross just now, too,” the duke said brightly. “Shall I shoot Greaves as well? No doubt he deserves it and I’ve another pistol in my pocket.”



At which point Edwin Stump burst from the shrubbery, followed closely by the Duke of Wakefield and Captain Trevillion. All three were holding pistols and breathing rather hard.



Apollo blinked.



“Are we late?” Edwin asked, panting.



“Yes,” Lily replied from Apollo’s arms. She sounded rather querulous.



“Good Lord, His Grace the Ass hiding in the bushes,” Apollo muttered. “Whatever are you doing here?”



“Ah, Kilbourne, you’ve regained your voice,” Wakefield drawled. “Pity, but I presume my wife is thrilled. And you are?” He looked pointedly at Montgomery.



Montgomery bowed mockingly, still holding his pistol. “Montgomery. And you’re Wakefield, yes?”



One of Wakefield’s eyebrows rose. “Quite.” He turned to Apollo. “I was told that we were here to save you. I see that I’ve been sadly misinformed.”



“You would’ve saved him had my brother been on time,” Lily said, glaring at Edwin.



“I’ve been shot,” Ross moaned from the ground.



George merely groaned.



Wakefield turned very slowly to Ross and said gently, “Lord Ross, I believe? Your son from your first marriage is playing with my wife at the moment. She seems to have grown quite fond of him in a very short time. Felicitations on finding him alive and well. It’s not every day that one discovers one’s heir.”



Ross’s lip curled and Apollo wished that Montgomery’s aim had been better. “Then I’ll take him. He’s my son, after all.”



“I think not,” Wakefield murmured. “I’ve heard a rather distressing tale from two upstanding citizens regarding his mother’s death. If you would rather I not investigate the matter further—and I really think you would—I suggest you never attempt to see your heir again.”



For a moment it looked as if Ross would cry, and Apollo really couldn’t find it in himself to care.



“Thank God,” Edwin Stump said, and sat abruptly on a charred log. “That’s over, then. I don’t mind telling you, Lily, that I near had an apoplexy when I got that message from you.”



Apollo frowned. “What message?”



“The message I had to slip to one of the footmen as I left Greaves House with George. I just hoped that Edwin would know what to do.” Lily looked at him in wonder. “And he did—even if he was a bit late.”



Edwin Stump actually looked bashful.



“I don’t understand.” Apollo frowned. “George caught you at the house party after I left?”



She nodded. “And kept a pistol on me practically all the way to London.”



He felt his heart stop. Fool. He should’ve realized he would put her in a position of danger when he fled. “I’m sorry, love. I should’ve never left you there.”



She shook her head. “You weren’t to know he would do that—and had you stayed you’d be in Bedlam right now. You had to run, Apollo.”



He grimaced, still not ready to absolve himself of blame. Things could’ve turned out far, far worse. “So you slipped your brother a message to go to Trevillion?”



“And to go to your sister,” Lily said. “After all, she’s a duchess. I thought that might help.”



Trevillion cleared his throat. “I decided His Grace might, in this case, be more useful.”



“Then why in God’s name did you grab for George’s pistol when you knew help was coming?” Apollo asked.



“They weren’t here yet and he was going to shoot you,” she said, placing her palms on his chest. “I couldn’t let him.”



His throat closed and he couldn’t reply. All he could do was pull her into his arms and hold her close.



Someone cleared their voice.



He didn’t care in the slightest.



Edwin toed George Greaves, who was still moaning very quietly. “What are we going to do with him?” He glanced at Ross and winced. “Them?”



Wakefield drew himself up. “As it’s quite clear that Montgomery shot Ross to save Miss Goodfellow’s life, I shall make a full report to the courts and deal with the matter myself. Sadly, as he’s titled, he’ll probably serve no time in prison. However, the scandal of trying to murder one of London’s most famous actresses might make a sojourn abroad seem quite a nice prospect. As for Greaves…”



“He murdered those men,” Lily said from Apollo’s arms. “I’m quite sure of it. I just have no way of proving it.”



“No, I didn’t!” George gasped rather unconvincingly from the ground.



“As to that.” Trevillion cleared his throat. “I took the liberty of having the valet, Vance, detained after you left the house party. Montgomery told me that you recognized him, Lord Kilbourne. It seems Vance was in George Greaves’s service before he went to William Greaves’s employ. When I informed Vance that he’d been seen on the night of the murders at the tavern he became quite talkative.”



“What?” George screamed.



“You really ought to employ more intelligent assassins, Mr. Greaves.” Trevillion smiled coldly. “He seemed to think I had all the evidence needed to hang him and confessed embarrassingly fast. And since you apparently never paid him well, he’s quite vindictive. He told me in front of witnesses that you hired him to kill Lord Kilbourne’s friends in an attempt to paint Kilbourne a murderer.”



“It’s not true,” George whispered.



“I’m afraid your father heard the confession and was stricken with the shock,” Trevillion said softly.



“My uncle never knew?” Apollo asked.



Trevillion shook his head. “I think not. When I left Greaves House he’d taken to his bed and a doctor had been sent for. They’re not sure he’ll recover.”



George swore foully, red-tinged spittle flecking his lips. He glared at Apollo. “You should never have been the heir—your line is tainted. Had Brightmore not intervened you would’ve hanged for sure instead of being sent to Bedlam. Everyone knows you’re insane—everyone! I should’ve killed you myself instead of sending Vance.”



“Now we have your confession,” Trevillion murmured gently. “And in the presence of two dukes.”



Trevillion bent to haul George to his feet, which put an end to his cursing. The captain looked quietly satisfied.



Wakefield nodded grimly. “Excellent.” He turned to Apollo. “I think we’ll be able to clear your name within days. Artemis will be very pleased—and I won’t have to worry anymore about her sneaking off with baskets of provisions for you.”



“So glad to put your mind at rest,” Apollo said drily. He looked at Lily. “Shall we go see how Indio and Daff are faring with my sister’s dogs?”



She nodded, and he took her hand, leading her from his garden.