Chapter Twenty-Six

“Aargh...” squawked Penelope. “That’s not right. She can’t die on us yet—she hasn’t finished the dratted story...”

Allegra turned in surprise, remembering that this young woman had, in fact, been the one who shot Madame in the first place.

“Well, don’t look at me like that...” said Penelope firmly, with her hands on her hips. “She was about to kill Uncle Pip. I could not let that happen. She was not a nice person at all, if you ask me, and I’m not in the least bit sorry for what I did. So there.” Bright blue eyes gazed defiantly at Pip and Allegra.

Her chin was high, and Allegra couldn’t have been prouder of her than at that moment. Especially when she noticed a faint little tremble in Penelope’s lips. Remembering Grace, she turned quickly, only to see Angus and Nigel Jameson tending to her with murmurs and a wet cloth that had materialised from somewhere. Pushing them away impatiently, Grace came over to the group gathered around Madame, ignoring the swelling that was turning quite a nasty shade of purple around her eye.

“So did she tell you what it’s all about?” asked Grace, to Allegra’s astonishment. Who were these two Amazons—was it something they learned in school? Why couldn’t she have gone to the same school...

“No,” sputtered Penelope, still furious. “She went and died on us. I only aimed for her leg, too.”

“Typical,” said a disgusted Grace. “Well, the answer has to be in this strongbox somewhere—but it’s clearly empty. I’m confused...” and she stood staring at the exposed metal, for all the world as if she was studying a new bonnet.

Nigel Jameson came over to the group and looked at them with remarkable aplomb. He then uttered the understatement of the year. “Seems like there’s been a little adventure going on here,” he said, blinking at the bodies. “Anybody got any suggestions on what to do with these two?”

Allegra touched his arm. “Nigel, what happened here is terrible, but I have to ask you for a huge favour...it would be a worse tragedy if word got out...”

Nigel covered her hand with his. “You have my word, Lady Ally, and my silence. Heaven knows we’ve all got enough secrets that a few more won’t hurt. And these two were very nasty characters, weren’t they?” He gestured slightly towards the remains.

“Let’s at least cover them up...” said Vivian, grabbing a very dusty old blanket and tossing it over Madame.

They did their best to conceal the death and horror that had so recently confronted them, and gathered around the empty strongbox on the side table.

It was, no doubt about it, completely and absolutely empty. There was nothing on the bottom, sides or inside the top. It was so empty that, had it been any bigger, their voices would have echoed from it.

Frustrated, Pip ran his hands through his hair. “This is impossible. I can’t believe two people have died for a box with nothing in it. It’s unacceptable.” And he glared at it as if it was at fault somehow. The box stared emptily back.

The smooth exterior had originally been covered with some kind of leather, which had rotted away long since, leaving just a few pieces caught in the nail heads that secured the pieces together and it was these nails that Allegra ran her fingers over—almost as if she was learning the appearance of the box through her hands instead of her eyes.

“Wait a minute...” she breathed, running her fingers over the lumpy nails once again.

Nobody moved.

“Aha.” she exclaimed, like a magician accomplishing a very difficult trick.

“Aha—what?” asked Pip as everybody took a step closer and nearly stepped on each other.

“Look...” she wiggled a fingertip on a nail head to produce a distinct pop. The bottom of the box lifted to reveal a slender hidden compartment beneath.

The assorted gasps of air almost sucked the oxygen out of the room.

“Oh my, Cousin Ally...” whispered Penelope.

“Well done, Cousin,” grinned Grace.

Everyone leaned in at once to watch as Ally reached in to remove a very slender packet, carefully wrapped in thin oilskin. There were papers folded neatly inside.

Placing them on the table, she nodded to Pip, who eased the first paper open, being very careful not to tear it. Silence fell as he quickly perused the contents.

His face, when he looked up, was grim, and his wife moved to stand close beside him, something telling her he needed her touch.

“It’s a list of names...” he began, biting his lip in indecision. “Names that you and I would recognise, and so would the rest of the country. Unfortunately, this list is more than ten years old, and back then, it appears these men opposed the Regency. Next to the names is the amount of money they were going to contribute to have the Prince assassinated.”

“Dear God.” sputtered Vivian, horrified.

“Unconscionable,” muttered Nigel Jameson.

Everyone in the room realised the gravity of this information. The Prince was not popular in every corner of the land and there continued to be rumours concerning plots against him. The dissatisfaction had been growing in direct proportion to his more extravagant behaviour.

“Is there still a risk of that happening, Uncle Pip? Should we reveal the names on this list?” asked Grace, eyes wide.

Pip reached for Ally’s hand and gave it a little squeeze. “Seeing as these men are now highly placed in our current government, and some are the Prince’s closest acquaintances, I can see no good coming from anyone ever knowing that this list existed, especially His Royal Highness.” He turned to Ally, who was watching him intently.

“I don’t believe anybody here poses a threat to the Prince nowadays, and from the looks of the writing, I would hazard a guess that most of them were well into their cups when they pledged.”

He gazed off into the darkness for a moment, lost in his own thoughts. “But I have to say that I believe the money Falworth and his mother could have made in blackmail from these people—well, it would have been a bottomless bank for them. It certainly explains their obsession.”

“Vivian, would you start a small fire, please?” asked Allegra, calmly. “A very small one, we don’t want to attract attention or burn this damn place down. At least not while we’re still here.”

Everybody watched as Vivian got a little bunch of kindling to flame up and adjusted the damper. As the fire crackled, Allegra surveyed the assembled faces. “I’d like to suggest that we close this horrible episode by burning these papers. They could only do damage to men who have put their pasts behind them and are now working for our country and our Prince. Keeping them would simply keep the ugliness alive, and I, for one, would rest a lot easier knowing that it no longer exists.”

Murmurs of agreement and nods greeted Allegra’s statement, and Pip, with a small smile, handed the papers to her and stood aside, indicating that hers was to be the hand that destroyed the last vestige of Falworth’s evil plans.

She firmly tossed the bundle into the fireplace and stood there watching as they curled and blackened and eventually disintegrated into a pile of grey ashes.

She felt Pip’s warmth behind her as his hands rested gently on her shoulders.

He bent his head near her ear and whispered, “Now it’s truly over.”

It may have been over, and it may have been three o’clock in the morning, but still nobody was sleeping at Bridgeford House.

Agreeing on a plan of action, the Allenbridge party had left Nigel Jameson to go back to the Villa August, accepting his word as a gentleman that none of this night’s business would ever pass his lips. The others had returned to town, knowing that their comings and goings wouldn’t have attracted too much attention from the (by now) drunken revellers at the Villa.

Runcorn, who had waited up just in case, decided he must be getting too old for his job when he opened the front door to the most disreputable group he’d ever seen. His well-schooled jaw dropped to his knees, and for once in his life, he was struck speechless.

Allegra wasn’t surprised. Pip’s face was bloody, his clothes were filthy and his wrists red and raw. She had blood on her gown and dried into her hair from the graze of Madame’s bullet. Grace was a bruised nightmare, and Penelope had done very well indeed until they were two miles from Falworth Manor, whereupon she had promptly thrown up all over herself.

Needless to say, it took a while to get everybody cleaned up—even Angus and Vivian were ordered to guest rooms and told to freshen themselves. Several household members were awoken, and for once, Bridgeford House showed signs of unusual nocturnal activity. No one wanted to admit that this eventful night was over—and everybody needed to discuss the finer points and have their questions answered.

After accepting a huge tray with pots of tea and about three tons of sandwiches and little tarts, Allegra finally sent the butler to bed with her thanks.

“We’ll be fine, Runcorn, we just need to talk it all out, and then we’ll retire too. Would you make sure that the maids let everybody sleep in tomorrow? I think we’ll allow Sir Vivian and Angus to keep their guest rooms for tonight—that way you can lock up.” With a grateful smile, she dismissed the faithful butler, who closed the door and shook his head with a look that said quite clearly “Never in all his born days...”

Pip had browsed over the contents of the tea tray and caught Vivian’s eye. He sauntered casually over to the well-stocked cabinet on the far wall, and poured three very healthy glasses of brandy, which he then passed to the gentlemen, keeping one for himself. Sitting down next to Allegra, he stretched his arm along the back of the sofa behind her, took a long swallow and sighed in contentment.

Silently eyeing the snifter, Allegra leaned back into his warmth. “Well, I have one or two questions,” she said in her usual practical manner. “To start at the beginning, would you please tell us, Miss Grace, what you were doing outside the front of Villa August?”

Grace, who was looking unusually subdued, nervously pleated the fabric of her skirt.

“Oh, go ahead, sister,” urged Penelope. “After what we’ve been through tonight, a few more answers won’t hurt a bit.” She leaned over to offer a comforting squeeze to Grace’s fidgeting hands.

“Well, I have to confess I feel silly, and very guilty...” she began, looking down again and refusing to meet anyone’s eyes.

“I had spoken to Angus, you see,” she murmured, deliberately not facing the young man who was already blushing.

“And I thought that he...well, I overheard something between him and you, Cousin Ally...a while ago, that made me think that perhaps you two...” Colour rushed up to her brow.

Pip frowned, and would have said something, but Ally stopped him with a brief touch of her hand on his thigh. Without thinking, Pip covered it with his own and held it there.

“I know it’s extremely silly, and when I saw how much in love you and Uncle Pip were, it seemed even more silly, but then last night—or I suppose tonight really—well, Angus asked me how I felt about him, and I got angry and remembered...and I thought...well, I just wanted to get away someplace and think for a few minutes.”

She looked up at Allegra. “I truly didn’t think about where I was going, Cousin Ally, honestly. I just knew I wanted to get as far from all the noise and fuss as I could—it never occurred to me it might be dangerous, or that I would cause such trouble for you all.” Tears trembled at the tips of her lashes as she looked pleadingly at her Uncle.

Pip sighed deeply, but before he could answer, Ally spoke.

“I remember the conversation, Grace. I had just learned that Angus knew the identity of the Rajah. It was a difficult time, and I can understand how you might have misconstrued our words. But in all fairness, I must say that you had no way of knowing Falworth’s plans, and I would hazard a guess that if it hadn’t been you he nabbed from the Villa August, it would have been me—he needed me there desperately to show him where the new safe was. Nothing you did would have prevented that, and I’m the one who should be deeply sorry that I brought such troubles down on your heads...”

Waving his wife’s comment aside, Pip looked at Vivian. “I’m curious about how you found out where we were,” he said, following his own thoughts about the evening’s events.

“No mystery there. We saw the groom run in to find Chuffy Henderson and asked him if he’d seen you. He said “Falworth Manor” and that was enough for us. Jameson was about to dance with Penelope, but immediately offered his carriage—nice fellow, you know. Didn’t ask a single question, just jumped into the whole thing, and did what he could to help.”

“It was actually Sir Nigel’s gun—I saw him take it out of the carriage, and I took it out of his hand when we got to the door,” added Penelope. “I think I caught him by surprise, because he didn’t grab for it or anything, he just stared at me as if I’d gone mad.”

She giggled, and within seconds everybody was laughing with her, finding relief at the sharing of emotions.

“Just where did you learn to shoot?” asked Vivian when he could catch his breath again. “And I probably ought to know if you’re going to make a habit of it, because that was a very fine shot.”

Ally smiled, and wondered if Penelope realised how lucky she was. There couldn’t be too many men who would not only allow their fiancée to shoot a weapon, but would compliment her on her abilities as well.

“Thank Miss Millington for that,” grinned Grace. “She believes that a woman shouldn’t need to faint simply because a firearm discharges near her. Anyone who wished was encouraged to learn to shoot—we started with a basic hunting rifle and moved to duelling pistols after a few months. We both did quite well.”

There was silence for a moment as everybody digested that piece of information.

Then Pip stood and stretched. “Any more questions before we turn in?” he asked, glancing around at the tired, battered yet triumphant little group of warriors. “For my part, one adventure like this is quite enough, and I’m glad it’s over and done with. We’ll have to prepare ourselves for the shock and gossip when Falworth’s body is discovered; and we still have a wedding to arrange—which reminds me,” he turned his head to stare at his secretary. “While we’re on the subject, is there anything you’d like to add, Angus?”

Looking extremely uncomfortable, Angus glanced at Grace. She shook her head slightly. “Er—not at this time, My Lord...I believe that, given the current state of everybody’s emotions and the fact that we’re all exhausted, it would probably be most expedient for me—er—us, I mean perhaps we should...oh dear.” The fiery blush that had started in his cheeks threatened to devour Angus as he tried to stumble out of a very awkward situation.

“What Angus is trying to say, Uncle Pip, is that while we are excellent friends who share a lot of the same interests, that doesn’t mean that any deeper affections are involved. At least not right now. Am I right?” Grace turned to Angus with one brow raised, looking so much like her Uncle at that point, that Allegra was very hard pressed to hide a grin.

“Oh right. Yes, absolutely. I agree, yes...” stuttered poor Angus, amazingly uncomfortable at having his personal affairs discussed in front of his employer.

“Then I would say we all need about twelve hours of uninterrupted sleep,” said Allegra, taking pity on the young man. “We’ll have plenty of time to resume this conversation now that the fireworks are over, and we can think more clearly.” Rising, she led the way into the hall and sent everyone off to their rooms for what was left of the night.

“What makes you think the fireworks are over, Ally?” came a husky voice from the darkness of the bed. She turned, seeing her husband as a dark shadow propped up against the pillows, hands clasped behind his head, chest intriguingly revealed by the single candle. He had slipped into her room and her bed so quickly she hadn’t had chance to see if he had anything on at all under the robe he’d left on the floor. Her mouth watered at the thought, but she turned and finished brushing out her hair.

“Well,” she said, deliberately misunderstanding him. “I am now an absolute, dyed-in-the-wool widow, with the body to prove it—God, that sounds so callous, doesn’t it?” She bit her lip as she felt the enormity of the relief that washed over her.

“You have been my absolute, dyed-in-the-wool wife from the moment you said ‘I do’, and there’s an end to it.” declared Pip firmly, pulling back the covers for her. He patted the spot beside him invitingly.

“Come here wife, and let’s discuss this marriage business...” he said, lips quirking.

Self-consciously, Ally dropped her robe and clambered up beside him, aware of the rather scandalous nature of her night rail, selected by her husband, of course. Settling cautiously against the pillows, she found herself surrounded by powerful arms and pulled firmly against a broad chest.

“Wife lesson number one, when in bed with their husbands, wives must cuddle. It’s the law.” And suiting words to action, he snuggled them both under the quilt and tucked Allegra’s head under his chin.

“There may be a scandal...” said Allegra, voicing her biggest worry, as her fingers idly toyed with his chest hair.

“I don’t doubt that the gossips will have a field day, but seeing as you and I, My Lady, will be spending the summer at Wensley, with no outside guests, and coming up to town only to see Penelope married, I think it will soon die down—you know the Ton, out of sight, out of mind.”

“We’re going to Wensley for the summer?” she asked, raising herself up on one elbow and looking at Pip.

“Woman, I have waited very patiently to get you where I want you, which is right here, and possibly a few other places, none of which we can discover with company. I intend for us to spend several long glorious months just enjoying each other—in bed, in the woods, on the lake, in the library if it rains, perhaps even the stables. You like barns, don’t you?” He grinned up at her so wickedly her breath caught in her throat.

“By the way,” he continued, easing her back down onto the pillow and moving over her, “you said something quite interesting to me when we were in the middle of all that earlier trouble...” his hand swept smoothly up her thigh taking lace with it, making her heart pound fiercely.

“I...I did?” she whispered, as her skin tingled from his touch.

“Oh yes, you did,” he murmured, easing her gown over her head, and pressing their bodies together with a sigh of contentment. Allegra realised her daring husband was quite naked as she felt his heat from her ears to the tips of her toes.

Unhampered by clothing, his fingers played all over her body, touching her skin with delicate butterfly flickers, stroking here and smoothing there until she was on fire for him.

“I don’t seem to remember,” she gasped as he tweaked a very sensitive portion of her anatomy, “There was so much happening.”

Raising his head from a breast he was busily suckling, Pip’s eyes blazed into hers. “Oh, come on Ally...I’m sure you can remember...” his fingers moved down to tangle in her woman’s curls where they tugged, making her gasp.

“Tell me again, sweetheart...” He stroked gently as moisture and heat pooled between her thighs.

“I can’t...I mean I...oh Pip...” she melted beneath him as his hands aroused her even more and her spine arched towards him.

He continued his loving play until Ally’s head thrashed on the pillows, and her breathing was coming in ragged gasps, then he settled himself between her thighs and pressed his raging erection to the very entrance to her swollen and throbbing flesh. He entered her gently, stopping after a few seconds and holding himself still.

Ally choked. “God, Pip...please...please...” she raised her hips further, in mute appeal.

“Say it, Ally...I want to hear you say it.” he nudged in another inch, sweat beading his face and muscles quivering.

“Pip...I...oh God, Pip, I love you...” she gasped, clenching her ankles round his thighs in an effort to bring him inside her.

“Yesss,” he hissed, plunging himself to the hilt on her words.

Neither moved for long seconds, and Ally looked at this man she loved so much gazing at her with an expression of contentment on his face unlike any she’d ever seen.

Gently, he lowered his mouth to hers. “I love you too, Ally”, he said, and started to move.

Within moments, both husband and wife exploded into oblivion, bodies joined, hearts in perfect alignment, and souls intertwined.

When she finally got her breath back enough to even think about saying something, Pip beat her to it. “I do love you, Ally. I don’t know when it happened, but it did. I can’t imagine life without you beside me.”

“I never dreamed I could ever feel like this about anybody—this burning feeling inside me when you touch me, the way I need to know that you are always there. It—it humbles me to know you feel it too,” she replied, caressing his shoulders and his face with gentle strokes. “You are my life...” she whispered.

“And you are mine. I wasn’t sure that I still had a heart to give, but I do...it’s yours,” and he eased her hand to his body.

“Um, Pip?”

“Mmm hmmm?” he said, brushing the sweat-dampened hair away from her face.

“I know very little about anatomy, but I think your heart is at least a foot higher than where you put my hand.”

“Goodness me, I think you’re right...” he answered, giving her an innocent, wide-eyed stare. “However, this might be a very good time for wife lesson number two...”

With a smile that could have lit up a ballroom, Allegra enthusiastically turned her attention to the task of learning more wife lessons and, coincidentally, showing her husband that she was his, now and forever.