Page 58 of A Love to Remember
There was acrackas flesh met flesh, and Rose hoped Kirkwood had loosened several of his son’s teeth.
“You’ll pay for that, old man,” Francis said thickly, all humor gone. “You have nothing to say about what I do. As soon as she wakes I’m marrying her and then we set sail for the Americas. By the time we return—and with her big with child—no annulment will ever be granted.”
“There is more to this business than your marrying the woman.” Kirkwood sounded frustrated, and not only with Francis. “We’ll have access to her jointure immediately, and that will stave off the creditors for now. But to get our hands on the real money, young Roxborough has to die.”
“I’m sure you’ll think of something, Father.” There was something mocking now in Francis’s tone. “After all, it won’t be the first time you’ve evaded a murder charge. But killing Mother all those years ago was different. She had no one to protect her.” Francis paused before adding, “They’ll guard the boy once they know what I have done.”
Kirkwood had killed hiswife? Rose’s fear almost sent her back into unconsciousness.
“I’m his guardian,” Kirkwood said. “That gives me certain rights. He will stay with me while you are on your extended honeymoon. They have no grounds to make a case to the chancery. But we must be patient. He can’t die immediately or Cumberland will raise hell.”
Philip. Rose’s heart lifted in a savage joy. Oh, yes, Philip would most certainly raise hell.
Francis’s next words stopped her breath.
“No. Cumberland has to die, too. I’m not coming home only to be challenged to a duel—and he will want to kill someone for this.”
Philip wasn’t the only one. Rose would do her best to kill both men if they touched a hair on her son’s head.
“Christ,” Kirkwood snapped. “We can’t kill everyone. I still say that to throw in our lot with Tremain is less risky. I need my money. Let Cumberland kill Tremain.”
Fury raced through Rose’s blood so violently that it made her fingers tingle.Hismoney! It was hers. It was Drake’s. It was not Kirkwood’s.
Warily, she slitted one eye open.
Francis paced back and forth in front of the fireplace, obviously considering the idea. “That would work. We could pin everything on Tremain. Let him marry her. We kill the brat and get our share of the money. Then we frame Tremain for Drake’s death, and watch Cumberland challenge him to a duel and kill him.”
Kirkwood smiled, full of ice and teeth. “Nowthatis a plan I like. We get the money without having another man’s bastard in our bloodline. Very well. Now, until I can get word to Tremain, we just have to keep her hidden.”
On those words they both turned to where she lay.
Rose kept her breathing steady and shallow, pretending unconsciousness. They must have thought her still insensible because they turned away again and continued their conversation.
“Tremain left to travel north to Mr. Hemllison’s house near Yorkshire.” There was the sound of a drawer opening, the scratch of quill on parchment. “We need to get word to him immediately.”
“What about Cumberland?” Francis sounded concerned. “Would he or his friends know about this house? Should we move her somewhere else?”
“It’s unlikely,” his father said. “Besides, this is the safest place to keep her. The priest’s hole has kept its secrets for hundreds of years. Even if Cumberland finds the house, he will never find her.”
Rose risked another peek in time to see Kirkwood scatter sand on the note to dry it. Then he folded it and added his seal. He strode to the door of the room and threw it wide.
A man appeared in the doorway. “My lord?”
Kirkwood shoved the note at him. “I want this taken to Lord Tremain. He’s traveling north to Yorkshire on the main road. Stop at all the coaching inns along the road until you find him.”
“Yes, my lord,” the man said and left.
Kirkwood closed the door with a sharp click and glanced over to where Rose lay, still feigning unconsciousness. “Quickly now. Move her before she wakes.”
Francis hurried to do his father’s bidding. He heaved her over his shoulder, thumping her in the breast as he did so. She bit her tongue to silence the moan of pain. Then, to her horror, he walked toward the large inglenook fireplace.
For one awful moment she thought he was about to throw her in. Instead, Kirkwood moved in front of them and ran his hand over the stones on the right. There was a grating sound, and the stone pillar itself moved back slowly to reveal a low doorway.
In the light from the room behind her Rose could see Kirkwood had obviously planned her imprisonment for some time. A narrow bed had been pushed up hard against one wall. Its mattress was thick enough, but there were no sheets, only a stack of blankets piled at the foot, and a single pillow at the head. A chamber pot was shoved carelessly under the bed. A pitcher—which she hoped contained something to drink—sat on a rickety-looking table next to the pillow, a slop bucket beside it.
Francis stooped down to enter the room, strode across to the bed, and dropped her unceremoniously onto the mattress. Then, without a word or a second look at her he turned and strode back out.
As the secret doorway started to close, the light began to dim. Only then did Rose realize she’d seen no candles on the table, no lantern. They were leaving her alone. In the dark.
