CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Darkness cloaked Romsey Abbey in sinister shadows, reminding Leopold of all the nightmares he’d endured while away from England. Visions where Rosemary pressed against the glass of an upper bedchamber window, calling for him to come save her from the old duke’s clutches teased at his mind. During the dream, he’d not been able to storm the abbey and save his sister. He’d been trapped outside and alone while the old duke hovered, watching like a specter.
Leopold had thought that dreams of his sister in danger where the worst of his imagination could conjure up on a wind tossed night. Not so, however. His mind now imagined the worst terrors for his son. Edwin, too young and even more defenseless than Rosemary had ever been, faced an unknown threat that he wasn’t sure he could protect him from. In the past, he’d been assured that his siblings were safe from harm, so long as he obeyed. The duke had given his word, and a Randall never went back on that.
This threat coming toward Edwin made no sense. Who the devil would want to harm a child or Mercy? The threat must be from some trouble of the old duke’s making. And he had made sure Leopold would stick around to clean up the mess should he ever come here again. Leopold ground his teeth as anger ripped through him. God, what a mistake he had made five years ago.
He’d given the old man control of his life even from his grave.
Leopold eased closer to the rough timber door and peered out at the kitchen garden. All was quiet and still, and from his vantage point, hidden in a garden shed out of sight, he gazed longingly at the windows where Mercy and Edwin should be resting for the night. He’d love to return to them and take them in his arms. He’d stand between them and danger until his last breath left him. Why couldn’t the Randall’s live peaceably for once in his life? Why must there always be contention and strife? He delighted at watching Edwin play his games. He’d like to have the chance to grow old watching them.
His thoughts about Mercy were less comfortable. Being with her reminded him of all that was missing from his life. Laughter, easy conversation, and a sense of belonging in a place he’d never imagined would feel like home.
But there was no future here with her. A duchess would only have a man like him for a lover. Anything more permanent was completely out of the question. He could never ask for more from her. What little he’d been granted was more than enough. As it was, they were running the risk of discovery. When this was over, he’d move north—far, far away from Mercy so he would never be tempted again. He’d still worry about Edwin, but if he faded from his life it would avoid awkward questions about the similarities in their appearance when the boy was fully grown.
He shook his head. Better to deal with the here and now than worry about the future. Somewhere out there was a killer. He leaned a little closer to the door and looked to where the next man hid. Brown, from the Vulture Inn, had come, too, like many men of the village. But Brown had claimed a spot closest to Leopold, despite Leopold’s assertion that he did not need protection. Eamon had surprised him by overriding his objections very firmly. So he was stuck with Brown as his shadow and guardian, something he’d never had before.
Brown’s head came into view, slowly emerging from the shadows when he should have remained hidden. Leopold frowned. Perhaps he’d been wrong to let the other man hover so close. He’d give away their positions too quickly like this.
The whole of Brown was now visible. He stared at the abbey with fixed attention, shifting slightly as he looked up at the walls.
Leopold looked too and gaped.
A dark shape, a man, clung to the abbey walls and was slowly ascending toward Mercy and Edwin’s floor. Leopold stepped from the shed’s safety, stunned by the intruder’s audacity and astounding ability. Good God, the man possessed skills more akin to an ape than a gentleman. How could he hang there without any apparent effort? He scaled the abbey walls slowly, clinging to the stone work as if he was simply climbing steps. Although Leopold’s first thought was to fire at the intruder, he skirted the abbey via the shadows to get a closer look.
The man wore no harness or apparatus that he could see. He was completely vulnerable clinging to the walls the way he did. If they shot at him and scored a good hit, he’d fall from the wall and be dashed to pieces on the flagstone path below for sure when he landed. He wanted to question the stranger first before any punishment was handed out. But how the devil was he to catch a fellow who climbed like that?
Leopold jumped out of his skin as a shot rang out. Brown had fired, but had luckily missed his target. The intruder clung to the stone work a moment, glanced over his shoulder to where Leopold stood and then, quicker than he could blink, scuttled sideways and disappeared out of sight, around the corner of the building.
“Damn it. He’s getting away!”
Leopold hurried after him at a run. He collided with Brown who’d had the same idea and then took up the chase in earnest. But by then the intruder was down and off the abbey walls, fleeing across the grassy grounds quicker than Leopold could believe possible. The man was also hooting with laughter, as if what he was doing was a great game to him. It wouldn’t be a lark once Leopold got his hands on him. He’d rip him to bloody shreds for threatening his son.
The wind blew hard against Leopold as he ran through the long grass, hampering his progress. But he clearly heard the intruder’s taunting float back to him on the wind. “Run, run, Randall, before there’s a scandal. Don’t let Papa catch you with your hand on your candle.”
More laughter whipped past on the wind before the stranger left the path and disappeared into the tree line without looking back.
Damn it!
Leopold stopped, gasping for breath, as more shots rang out. Bark splintered and rained down on the path ahead where the intruder had vanished moments before. Too little, too late unfortunately. Whoever it was that had come to Romsey was quick, efficient, and far wilier than Leopold had considered. Given the rate of his disappearance, he knew the grounds and paths around the estate very well to have gotten this close without being noticed. He’d be a mile away from them by now or hiding up one of those blasted trees, out of sight in the darkness. Who the hell was this man?
Eamon Murphy puffed up the rise and joined him. “How the devil did he get past us like that? We had three men near the paths from the trees.”
How indeed? Leopold scanned the darkness around him and then shook his head as he remembered something from his childhood. He pointed. “He came up through the dry stream, keeping low and out of sight of the watchers. Damn it. He knows the duchess has reinforcements now; we’ve lost the advantage of surprise. Bring everyone in. We’ll need a new plan and we need it now.”
When Eamon scurried off to do his bidding, Leopold scanned the tree line. How the hell had anyone else recognized that the low gully was the perfect approach to the abbey on a dark night? Only someone born and bred on the estate might notice the possibility and take advantage of it to get a closer look at the abbey. How could he protect them from a man who knew the abbey as well as he?
~ * ~
Mercy sobbed into her fist to muffle the sound from Edwin. He slept the sleep of an innocent, while Leopold might very well be dying. Despite his earlier warning, Mercy crept to the window and peered out. Below, a large group of men had gathered on the grounds. She scanned them quickly, looking for Leopold among their number. It was hard to tell who was who from this distance and her heart hammered painfully when she could not make him out in the crowd.
It was too dark, the weather too wild, and she had little patience tonight.
Suddenly a dark shape turned and looked up. Leopold. Thank God. He raised a hand in greeting and turned back to the other fellows. Mercy sagged onto the nearest chair and buried her face in her hands. He was alive and well enough to move about with ease. He had survived the night and the danger despite the shots she’d heard.
Blythe came closer. “Is it over?”
“I don’t know. They are all milling about on the grass below.”
Blythe peered out the window. “They will tell us what we need to know. In the mean time, I think you should plan to leave this place at first light. We must get Edwin to safety.”
“Go where?” Mercy demanded. “If one is not safe in one’s home then we’d have little chance upon the road.”
Blythe sighed heavily. “I suppose you are right, but I do not like to leave all the decisions about Edwin’s safety to this Mr. Randall. He has taken control of the duke’s life far too easily.”
“His own life is in danger, too,” Mercy reminded her. “He is a Randall and my son’s heir. Who knows what that deranged fellow wants with Edwin, but he could very well turn his attention on Leopold. I could not bear it if he should be hurt in the defense of us. His family has suffered enough.”
“Must you speak so informally of Mr. Randall?” Blythe fussed with her peach silk wrapper. “You encourage him to overstep his bounds at every turn.”
What would Blythe say if she confessed she’d thought of little else but Leopold for the whole day? What would Blythe do if Mercy confessed she was considering marriage to him? “Family cannot overstep, Blythe.”
A scowl crossed Blythe’s face. “Well, since all seems in order now, perhaps you should get some sleep while you can. If the intruder hasn’t been run off completely, then he surely will be gone for the rest of the night.”
Mercy slewed around to stare at her sister. “Are you not afraid?”
Blythe blinked. “Of course I am afraid. But there is no sense in getting hysterical over something I cannot control. I learned that lesson years ago. You should do better to control your anxiety from those around you, especially around Edwin. You will make him prone to fret.”
Mercy gaped. Even in the midst of danger, Blythe thought to give her a lesson in raising her child. Damn it all if that didn’t make her see red. She might be correct that she should hide her emotions better in front of her son, but when this was over the pair of them were going to sit down and thrash out their differences. She would not tolerate this any longer.
When Blythe lay down on the bed next to Edwin, curling her arm over him protectively as he slept, Mercy’s heart gave a thump. She was so very good with Edwin that if anything ever happened to Mercy she could be assured Edwin would have her love and support in the years to come. It was the only thing keeping her sane.
That, and the journals. Together, she and Blythe had begun work on the code, finding surprising translations for names. Using the dates and Blythe’s idea of using the family bible for reference, they had determined that the duke referred to women as flowers. Mercy had been dubbed Poppy. Her mother-in-law he called Ivy. And someone, Mercy couldn’t determine who yet, was called Blackberry and mentioned extensively in Edwin’s book. Not a nice way to think of a woman. She must be an utter termagant and someone the duke disliked immensely.
Males were named a little differently. The old duke had had a very religious view on them. He referred to his son as a fallen angel by the end of his life; the stranger in her bed he termed Lucifer, the devil. None of it was proof absolute that Leopold had been that man. But the dates matched what little Mercy knew of his birth year. It was a fairly obvious conclusion to her that he was the one. Did she care now?
No.
Mercy pressed the heel of her hands to her eyes. She wanted this ordeal to be over so she could get on with her life, find Leopold’s brothers and sister, and be happy once more.
She was so tired of being afraid. She dropped her hands, crossed to the bed, and lay down beside her son. Tomorrow she would speak to Blythe and Leopold about the past. With luck, her life would begin to move forward from then.