Chasing Eliza (Cavendish Mysteries 3) - Page 49

“You spoke to her?” Eliza whispered, watching Edward through tear-filled eyes.

“Briefly.” His eyes met and held hers. “She just asked me to look after you.”

“Where did Peter’s black eye come from?”

“Dominic knocked him out.” Edward replied cautiously. Already the questions had begun to tumble out of her, and he didn’t want her to ask too much. A thin veil of tension shimmered through him as he waited for her next bout of questions.

“Why?”

“Because Peter became extremely distressed when it became evident we couldn’t save her. We couldn’t do anything to stop her return to the cell. As she left Peter became really angry, so Dominic was left with no choice but to knock him out. He was unconscious for some time.” Long enough for them to leave the area for several hours.

“He came round when it was over.”

It was bad enough to learn of Jemima’s fate in the security of Havistock Hall; she couldn’t even begin to imagine what it must have been like for Peter. To actually be so close yet not be able to do anything to prevent the execution of the one who held your heart must be devastating.

“Poor Peter.” She whispered, feeling sad for Peter’s loss as well as her own.

“It should never have happened. She should never have been killed like that.” Edward declared flatly. “We will get to the bottom of what happened, and we will get vengeance.”

Eliza shivered at his icy declaration and sat up, turning to stare at him as he lay propped up on the soft mound of pillows.

“Don’t you think there has been enough death and destruction?” She stared at him aghast, struggling to withhold the anger and disgust at his declaration. Anger at the cruel twist of fate that had taken the only relative she had left; fury at Scraggan for his evil and wicked ways; disgust at the judiciary system for not listening to reason and postponing the execution until they had all the facts.

“Peter feels the same way.” Edward argued, sensing her anger. Although he knew it was the wrong time to discuss it, he was relieved to see the spark of fire back into her eyes. The delicate pink hue on her cheeks was the first he had seen for several days, and it suited her far more than the pale, haunting look of fear and worry, and ultimately grief.

“If I know Peter, as soon as the fog of grief eases he will be heading out to search out Scraggan and won’t return until the man is hanging from the gallows himself.” Edward sat up and cupped Eliza’s chin in his fingers, his eyes hard and determined. “I will be going with him. Not only-.” He raised a hand to stem the protests he could see brewing in Eliza’s horrified eyes and continued. “Not only because Peter cannot face this alone, with only a rag-tag militia with him, but because I want vengeance too. For all of the misery and pain Scraggan has caused you. I want the spectre of this man removed from our lives once and for all, so we can put him behind us and get on with our future.”

“Edward, you have seen how many men there are. Scraggan has a veritable army at his disposal. At each inn we have been to, they have appeared. They have tracked us up and down the country relentlessly. Fought and challenged us on every occasion. Do you really think that a handpicked group of half a dozen men is going to thwart someone like Scraggan? It’s suicide.” Eliza knew her voice had risen to a near-shout but couldn’t stop the

swelling tide of anger that seemed to surge from nowhere. “I hate the man as much as you do and believe me, nobody will be as happy as I to see him swing from the gallows. But you need a bigger army than the one Dominic and Peter used before. They couldn’t catch him in Norfolk and he wasn’t half as powerful as he is now. What makes you think you can succeed now?”

Edward sat up and returned her frown. “We will succeed because this time we have a bloody good reason to need to see the man and his son swing from the gallows. No man is beyond the law, including Scraggan.”

A small part of him felt a shiver of satisfaction that was she was so concerned about his safety.

“You’re going to get yourself killed. Then what? Hasn’t there been enough death and destruction? What about Sebastian and Peter? What will they do if they lose their younger brother? What will I do? I cannot bury you too!” Eliza’s voice trembled at the image of Edward’s body being carried into the house rose sharply in her mind, and she shuddered against the tide of bile that threatened once more.

“I am not going to get killed. Eliza-.” Edward watched as Eliza jumped off the bed and slammed out of the room.

He wasn’t sure where she was going, but couldn’t run the risk that she would run blindly out of the house and into danger. Although there was numerous staff working at various locations around the house, they didn’t know where Scraggan was based and couldn’t run the risk that he was hiding on the immense grounds.

He briefly thought of Amelia’s abduction from the grounds of Tingdale Hall and how easy it had been for her captors to spirit her away without being challenged. It was enough to make him lunge from the bed and tear out of the room after her.

“Eliza?” Edward called, taking the stairs two at a time until he reached the hallway. “Eliza?”

Dominic appeared in the Library doorway, a dark scowl on his face.

“Have you seen her?” Edward demanded, stalking past towards the rear of the house.

“No, when did she leave?”

“A couple of minutes ago - she was upset.” Edward snapped, pushing open doors to several rooms as he passed, making his way systematically to the rear of the house.

He pushed through the large oak door marking the start of the servants’ corridors and paused. There at the far end of the corridor on the left, Eliza stood staring blankly into one of the rooms. Edward cursed fluidly.

It was the room Jemima was lying in.

His fear as replaced with worry as he slowly approached her. Even from several feet away, he could see her visibly trembling with the tumult of emotions she was experiencing. Despite her earlier sobbing, it disturbed him that there were no tears now. Just the blank stare of someone who had absorbed too much shock and horror to know how to deal with the emotions she was faced with. She turned to stare blankly at him as he approached and offered no protest when he hauled her into his arms, pulling her tight against his chest to block out the cold reality of her sister’s demise.

Tags: Rebecca King Cavendish Mysteries Historical
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