The Nightingale Legacy (Legacy 2)

He opened his eyes for just a brief instant and she could see the pain it was costing him. “Tregeagle,” he whispered. “Tregeagle.”

39

CAROLINE FOUND COOMBE’S dangling rope as she eased herself out of the collapsed cliff wall. She hadn’t had time to wonder how he’d gotten down to her, but now she knew. Where had he gotten the rope? Then she recognized it. It was the rope that had bound her wrist and ankles. He’d knotted the ends together.

She grasped it firmly and pulled herself out against the cliff face. She didn’t look down. The wind was strong, tearing at her cloak and her hair. She drew a deep breath and began to climb. She had to save Coombe now. She’d wrapped his shoulder in strips of material she’d torn from Bess Treath’s cloak and wrapped him against the cold as best she could. He’d remained unconscious after he’d managed to say Tregeagle’s name.

Tregeagle. He’d drugged her? Evidently so. Evidently he’d been the one to put the note in her bedchamber. Had he tried to kill her by stringing the wire that felled her mare?

She began to climb, slowly, dragging herself upward, fighting the tug of the wind, the sting of the sea spray it hurled against her face. She looked up. It was more than a mile, it was farther away than it had been just a moment before.

Her arms trembled with pain. At least the blood on her hands made it easier for her to grip the rope. She stopped just a moment to catch her breath, and found that she was smiling, her face pressed inward against the barren cliff wall. She’d won. She’d won. It was then she heard his shout.

“Caroline!”

She felt a spurt of energy and pulled herself hand over hand, not hesitating, not resting, not feeling the pain, only wanting to see him, to hold him.

She felt his hands clasp her shoulders. He pulled her over the edge of the cliff. He lifted her up and stood her in front of him, his hands on her shoulders. He looked down at her, just looked, saying nothing.

“I thought you were dead,” he said at last. “I couldn’t have borne that, Caroline. When I read the note Coombe had left me, I didn’t know what to think. He just said to come to St. Agnes Head as soon as I could.”

She threw herself against him, burying her face in his chest. “We must get Coombe. He tried to save me and he’s wounded.”

“Where?”

“I don’t think you’re going to want to believe this, North. I found King Mark’s treasure trove.” She paused, shook her head, and said, “But that’s not important right now. There’s something else first. Before Coombe lost consciousness he said Tregeagle’s name.”

“Oh no. Bloody hell, I don’t want to believe that.”

Suddenly Tregeagle’s voice was there right behind them and it was low, very tense, and filled with fury. “You damned bitch, you’re luckier than any human has a right to be. Well, it’s almost over now, and then we’ll be at peace again.”

He was walking toward them. Caroline saw Rafael Carstairs unconscious on the ground some six feet away.

North very calmly moved to stand in front of Caroline. “Listen to me, Tregeagle, you’re right. It is over now.”

Caroline said very slowly, knowing she was speaking not only to Tregeagle but to North as well, “I killed Bess Treath. Did you know Bess Treath was mad, Tregeagle? Did you know she very nearly killed Coombe? Did you know she’d killed all those other women? Did you know she’s obsessed with her brother, Dr. Treath?”

North was staring at her, disbelieving as she’d been when she first saw Bess Treath’s face, disbelieving in that instant before she knew the woman was there to kill her.

Tregeagle ignored her, saying, “Coombe deserved it, tried to interfere when he realized what had happened, wouldn’t listen to me. I would have killed him had I been here. I wish she had killed him, the miserable traitor. Yes, I told him what was happening, begged him to join me to rid this place of her, but he looked shocked that I would say such a thing. Shocked! He called me mad, just as you believe Bess Treath was mad. She was as sane as I am. She killed all those miserable sluts, but she failed with you. And I will finish it.” His thick white hair was plastered to his head by the raging wind. He stood tall and proud, his black cloak billowing out behind him, looking like an avenging angel.

“Why?” Caroline said, stepping around to stand beside North. She felt him stiffen, but didn’t look at him. “Why do you want to kill me, Tregeagle? What did I do to you?”

He said simply, “You took my precious little boy and you changed him.” It took her a moment to realize he was talking about North. “Yes, you changed him and now his trollop of a mother is here—all your doing—and that simpleton daughter of hers. What a disgrace that one is, staring about like a vacant puppet, and her mother trying to claim Nightingale blood in her. It’s disgusting, and I’ll see soon enough that she’s away from here again.”

“But she’s the very image of North,” Caroline said, aware that North was very slowly trying to ease in front of her again. But she wouldn’t allow it. “It was an accident that she is simple, nothing more, just an accident.”

“No accident. It was her blood that did it, and her lover’s, not Nightingale blood. When his grandfather visited her, he knew she’d betrayed her husband, cuckolded him like all the other Nightingale wives had betrayed their husbands, and that’s when he made certain she’d stay away forever, hiding her disgrace, her perfidy, from the world.”

North said very gently, his voice barely heard over the blustering wind, “Tregeagle, did you help Bess Treath kill all those women?”

“Certainly not, my lord! I am not like that. She is perhaps a bit mad, I’ll grant you that, but only at times, only when it’s warranted. Her deep and abiding love for her brother brought her to this pass.”

“How did you discover she was the murderess?”

“I saw her go into Coombe’s room at Mrs. Freely’s inn. I followed her. I saw her with the bloody knife wrapped in the shirt. I told her I wanted you dead, my lady, and she said it was nearly time for you, that soon you would be in love with her brother, like all those other foolish women. I was willing to assist her. But we had to bide our time. You managed to survive the wire stretched across the narrow course, more’s the pity. If you’d just died then like you were supposed to, then this wouldn’t have been necessary. Coombe wouldn’t have had to know. He wouldn’t have had to be killed. Or mayhap, he would have, for he is a soft fool.

“Yes, we had to wait to get to you, because his lordship kept people around you, always people about to guard you. I asked Timmy the maid, and the little bugger lied to me. To me!