The Unscrupulous Uncle (28 page)

“It was you, wasn’t it?” she said coldly. One of Sidney’s few skills was deadly accuracy with a dart.

“Of course. Not that you can prove anything. If it comes down to my word against yours, no court will believe a female whose scandals titillate all the world.”

“But they would certainly believe me!” Damon’s voice had all the warmth of an iceberg.

Sidney whirled around to lean over the railing, his face twisting into fury when he saw Lord Devlin striding across the great hall. “What are you doing here?”

“Cataloging the damage to my wife’s property,” he answered calmly, joining the others on the gallery. “You will remove yourself from Ridgway and not set foot here again.”

“You cannot control me. I will produce a witness to your assault and see you off to Botany Bay.”

Damon actually laughed. “You haven’t the brains God gave a flea, Braxton. Do you seriously believe anyone swallowed your lies? More than one man traced the tale to your lips and informed society. You are already on the verge of ostracism. If I publicize my father-in-law’s will, you will never again be welcome in town.”

“You would, too!” His face flushed scarlet with fury. “You always hated me. You all did. All three of you!”

“What fustian is this?” demanded Catherine. “No one hated you.”

“You lie! You even forbade Mama and the girls to visit you.”

“Whoever spread that tale is the liar,” she said. “They were always included in invitations, but your father refused to bring them lest your mother’s vulgarity reflect poorly on him. Now leave before you do something stupid.”

Sidney appeared ready to explode. Damon stepped up to throw him out, but Catherine stopped him with her eyes, suddenly able to communicate silently with him as they had done in their youths.

Sidney’s shoulders eventually slumped in resignation. “What can I do?” he murmured to himself.

“That depends on which problem you are pondering,” said Catherine softly. “You are young enough that your recent tricks may be excused as wild oats if you reform. I don’t know the extent of your indebtedness, but perhaps Damon can arrange financing to get the moneylenders off your back.”

“You would do that?” demanded Sidney incredulously.

“If you are serious about turning over a new leaf,” agreed Damon cautiously. “I told you to return once you knew the true state of your affairs, you might recall.”

“He lies, Sidney! He will destroy you as he has me!” Henry Braxton appeared from the direction of the library, and Catherine gasped. He carried the hollow book, his face livid with fury.

“What are you doing here?” demanded Damon, gingerly stepping between Catherine and the Braxtons. “I thought you were in France.”

“I had to leave once your damned solicitor showed up, but I only removed to London. There were things to do before I could consider going abroad.” He glared at Catherine.

“It is too late,” she advised, understanding why Henry’s cache was still there. Once he had dodged Damon’s solicitor, he would have had to wait until his family moved out or risk being seen. Her eyes again commanded Damon’s silence. “I found it yesterday and sent it to London. It’s gone.”

“Nice try, but you cannot have got here before this morning. You were at the Cunningham Ball.” Henry sneered.

“Too bad you don’t command the loyalty that inspires your servants to travel around the clock,” she goaded him.

“Someone should have killed you years ago.”

“You planned the attack on Cat, even if Sidney actually carried it out,” concluded Damon ominously.

“What attack?” Henry frowned. “I’ve no real quarrel with her – or didn’t until today. My hatred is reserved for you, my lord.”

“So you were responsible for that pathetic attempt to rob me the other night.” The quiet voice brought a new grimace to Braxton’s face.

Catherine nearly demanded an explanation, but she caught herself in time. Damon did not need distractions. She had never considered Henry dangerous, but even a timid man might strike out to gain the sort of fortune she had found that morning.

“You robbed me of my inheritance,” charged Henry, ignoring Damon’s conclusion. “If you hadn’t meddled, my stupid niece would never have got a penny.”

“My interference started only after you had been systematically cheating her for years.”

“Balderdash! You know very well that my half-witted nephew would never have bought colors without your pernicious influence. He would have died with his father and that devilish codicil would never have been written. I had to put up with eight more years of that vulgar harridan and her greedy daughters because of you.”

“You knew nothing of Peter if you believe such tripe,” said Damon, shaking his head sadly. “He was army mad from early childhood. It was his idea to join, though I tried to talk him out of it.”

“You lie!” Lord Braxton’s roar reverberated around the vaulted ceiling. “You deliberately destroyed me. The only recompense is your lives. A boat is waiting for me just across the hills. I will ransack Devlin for a stake to replace what you stole. Your servants won’t protect a dead man’s house when it means their own demise.”

“You are serious!” Surprisingly, it was Sidney who spoke.

“I had enough put away to make a new start, but your cousin stole it,” declared Henry.

“Don’t be his puppet,” Catherine begged as Sidney started toward her. “He wants your help now, but he will abandon you the moment he leaves. He was planning to walk out on the lot of you the day after my birthday. He would have shipped your family to Braxton, sold Ridgway, and absconded with the lot.”

“You lie!”

“She tells the truth,” swore Damon. “He invited a buyer down to look over the estate. Fortunately, the man did not arrive until after the codicil was known.”

“Think, Sidney!” urged Catherine. “You cannot trust his words. How often has he promised Seasons to your sisters? But you heard his opinion of them just now. He can never allow them near town. They would blacken your name for all time with their antics. Miss Huntsley is a paragon in comparison.”

Sidney turned blazing eyes toward his father, but Henry overrode his words. “Can you believe a chit who stole your patrimony and spread lies about you all over town? Society is buzzing with condemnation and laughing at your problems. It is true that I never meant to bring out your sisters, but I would not ignore my heir. Let us rid ourselves of these pests, take what we need from Devlin, then travel the continent together.”

Sidney still hesitated.

“Many is the time these two carried malicious tales to me,” hissed Henry softly. “I knew the complaints for lies, but think of all the unjust punishments meted out by my brother – the same man who conspired to rob us both. That infamous codicil was devised solely to keep everything out of our hands.”

It was the last straw for Sidney’s precarious temper. Catherine screamed as the Braxtons attacked Damon. She tried to help, clawing at Sidney when her cousin grabbed Damon’s throat. Sidney let go, smashing her into the wall. Too stunned to catch her breath, she lay gasping on the floor.

Damon had managed to turn his back to the wall, restricting his attackers to a frontal assault. He landed a solid punch in Sidney’s stomach, then planted a facer on Henry. But Lord Braxton’s rage had left him numb to all feeling. He grabbed Damon’s arm and swung him toward the railing that overlooked the great hall. Damon hit it low and bounced off, but he lost his balance. In trying to stay on his feet, his guard fell. Sidney landed a heavy blow in his midsection even as Henry snapped his head back.

Catherine lurched to her feet, eyes frantically searching for a weapon. The struggle was growing fiercer, with Damon twisting to kick Henry and nearly taking a header over the rail when Sidney knocked him sideways. The remains of a chair lay in the corner. She broke a leg free from the wreckage and dashed back to the melee. Sidney had fallen to his knees while her back was turned. Roaring, he scrambled up to launch himself in a murderous dive intended to push Damon over the side. She slammed the leg into Sidney’s shoulder, pushing him off course. He crashed into his father, their combined weight falling heavily against the railing, which broke, dumping them both into the great hall. But Henry again had hold of Damon’s arm.

“No!” Catherine’s scream was lost amid the shouts of the men and the crash of bodies that echoed through the rafters. It took a moment to realize that someone had caught hold of a surviving baluster post.

She dove for the edge. “Thank God!” Damon was grimly hanging on, chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. Without looking at the stone floor fifteen feet below, she grabbed his other hand, then braced herself against the unbroken section of rail while he swung his leg onto the gallery. In another minute, she had pulled him to safety and burst into sobs of relief.

“It’s all right, Cat,” he crooned, drawing her into his arms to muffle her tears. One hand gently stroked her hair. “They shan’t hurt you again.”

Comfort washed over her as it had so often done in the past. Perhaps their friendship was not dead after all. Was it possible that they could live together in harmony?

Her tears finally died and she pulled back far enough to look him in the eye. “Are they—” She could not complete the question.

“I don’t know. But if you are recovered, I will see.”

She nodded and he let her go.

 * * * *

Damon spent a hectic hour minimizing the damage. Though Ridgway’s servants had accompanied him to the estate, the fight was over by the time they rushed up from below stairs. He sent Ned for the doctor and set the others to straightening the great hall and an adjacent antechamber so the Braxton crimes would not become neighborhood gossip. Henry was dead, his head smashed against the floor. Sidney had landed atop his father, breaking several bones. He seemed surprised when Damon suggested the fall was an accident, but readily agreed.

Damon finally joined Catherine in the library, setting a tea tray on a table at her elbow. He had no idea what to expect. By avoiding Devlin, she had confirmed his fear that she hated him. She must have believed Hermione’s claims. And who could blame her? He studied her, trying to gauge her mood. Her eyes were puffy from another bout of tears, but she seemed under control.

“I am sorry about the damage to Ridgway,” he began hesitantly. “It is partially my fault. If I had not called Hortense a trollop – and worse – she may have been less vindictive.”

“You did?” Her eyes widened in surprise.

He grimaced. “Yes, though that is hardly my usual style. But she had just tried to compromise me, and I lost my temper.”

“You?”

“I’m afraid so. Even those of us known for common sense and prudence get angry, Cat. You, of all people, should know that, for I’ve lashed out at you more than once lately. It is all of a piece. Nothing I’ve done in years has turned out right. I should have protected you better.”

“Of course,” she interrupted bitterly. “Peter would have expected it.” Her cup slammed onto the table. “Quit living your life according to what my brother might have wanted, Damon. Hasn’t that caused enough trouble?”

He winced. “The contempt is well deserved, though a trifle misdirected. But that is also my fault. I have been less than truthful, my dear, often attributing my actions to Peter’s wishes instead of admitting that they are also mine.”

“Why?”

Setting his cup on the mantel, he paced restlessly about the room, sidestepping heaps of books that still littered the floor. “Peter was always wildly emotional, relying on me to keep him in line. After years of playing the wise counselor, it was impossible to admit that I had feelings of my own. I might have grown away from that extreme after he died if I had not been in the army. But in battle, emotion kills, for it leads to carelessness. And thinking about what one is doing can break the mind. So I banished all feelings. When any tried to surface, I coped by attributing them to Peter.”

“What are you trying to say?” She glared suspiciously at him. The emotionless man he was describing was nothing like the sensitive friend she had known.

“While I was thrashing about the other night, terrified for your safety – travel is dangerous for a woman alone – I finally realized where I had gone wrong. I should have told you the facts from the beginning. You tried to tell me that, but I wasn’t listening. I was in the army too long, Cat. Years of issuing orders and expecting blind obedience has become a habit. That is essential in war, but you cannot have enjoyed my dictates.”

“True, so suppose you explain,” she suggested. Hope flickered to life, but he didn’t notice as he continued to pace.

“Half of me died with Peter,” he stated, not for the first time. “The other half died two months later when your uncle told me that you were betrothed to another.”

She jumped, for he had admitted no such feelings that day by the stream. Or when he’d proposed, for that matter.

“I was so blue-deviled already that I hardly noticed the pain,” he continued. “I convinced myself that everything was all right. Your uncle was looking after your interests, and you had a glorious future ahead. It allowed me to return to war with a clear conscience. But I never inquired about the details, except to send a note when mourning was over, wishing you happy.”

“Uncle Henry must have destroyed it, along with your earlier ones and those I wrote you,” she said wearily. “And every other communication to or from a personal friend. The only condolences I saw came from distant friends of my parents, though numerous people in London mentioned having written.”

He nodded. “Even after I sold out, I never asked about your marriage. If I had discovered that you were unhappy, I would never have forgiven myself. Discovering that you were happy would have been worse, not that I consciously thought in those terms. Yet I still had responsibilities to the title. And after ignoring them for so long, I could no longer postpone securing the succession, so I set about choosing a bride.”

“You needn’t apologize, Damon. I would never condemn you for that.”

“I sought out a girl who was as unlike you as possible, though I didn’t realize it at the time.” He stopped to stare out the window before resuming his pacing. “I tried to convince myself that I loved her, but that was merely a salve to my conscience.”