An English Lord's Love Affair

Chapter 23.1. Final Lesson

   All through the night Benedic had played a game of cat and mouse with Edward. Leaving one tantalizing clue after another, he had laid a trail from his bedchamber to the secret passage in the long gallery, through the narrow tunnels beneath his house to the underground dungeon where he had plotted his revenge.

   Now, on this quiet Sunday morning, he would end the game. The estate was empty; only the black swans gliding on the lake remained in place to witness what would happen. The neighbors had trundled off to church; the long-winded parson had just begun his sermon.

   Charlotte was probably fidgeting in her pew, perhaps even flirting with that fool James to alleviate her boredom. Benedic had watched through the telescope to see her climb onto the carriage with her relatives. The carriage had not returned. At least he could act knowing that she was safe with her family.

   Aleister stood guard inside the gatehouse.

   Edward was so close now that Benedic could hear him breathe, could feel the vibrations of his cautious footsteps on the secret staircase that led to Benedic's lair.

   "Where are you, damn it?" his uncle muttered into the airless void. "Come out and show me your face. Let this be done in the open."

   "Why?" Benedic called up quietly. "Why, when you have worked in darkness for years to destroy so many lives?"

   He heard Edward hesitate, sensed him studying the shadowed chasm below him to discern Benedic's exact location. "What nonsense is this, Benedic? Why are you hiding from me?"

   "I'm not hiding, Edward. I am merely waiting for my guest to arrive."

   "Why?"

   "To give you a chance to explain yourself, to deny what we both know is true."

   Edward hesitated. "I deny nothing."

   "Turn yourself in, or I shall take you in myself."

   Edward forced a laugh, descending another step. "A gun is so much more efficient than a dagger." He lifted his right hand steadily; the ebony barrel of a dueling pistol gleamed in the dark. "I should have used this the first time on you."

   Benedic slowly unfurled his body his crouching position in the corner. "But how efficient is a gun with a safety that has been jammed, Edward?" he asked slowly.

   Edward's voice shook in fury. "I had my pistols locked away—"

   "In my desk. Did you forget that you are only a guest here? A most unwelcome one, at that."

   Panicking, Edward raised the pistol to Benedic's face and pulled the trigger, only to fling it to the steps when it failed to fire.

   "You're insane, Benedic. Who but a madman would hide in the walls of his own house? I should have you put away. After all, you staged your own murder in order to seduce the poor sleeping women of this village. You are a certified lunatic."

   "Without doubt. Perhaps it is a family trait that we both share."

  "Go to hell."

   Benedic laughed at the unintended irony of his uncle's words. "Where do you think we are?"

   "I should have cut your heart out that night."

   "And kept it in a casket under your pillows?" Benedic's voice was almost detached. "Who was coming coming here to meet you last night, Edward? Who helped you betray your country?"

   Edward did not answer.

   "I know why you had my brother and Bernard killed."

   Edward paused. "They knew, too, but it didn't help them."

  "How many people were involved?"

   Edward laughed bitterly. "Why? Do you think you and your Brumidge friends can conquer the world? Your brother believed that Bernard Brumidge would protect him, and they both died."

   Benedic would not allow the taunt to weaken him, knowing that Edward would pay for that, too. Involving the Brumidge family only made him more determined to bring his uncle to justice.

   "I hoped you would turn yourself in, Edward."

   "I'd rather see us both dead."

   "All right. Here." Benedic threw a sword into the air.

   "Catch. This will be our final lesson. Do you remember our practices? You made me fight you blindfolded. It was an excellent discipline for fencing in the dark."

   Edward cursed in anger, his hand lifting reflexively to grasp the hilt. "Do you really think to beat me?" He descended the remaining stairs with cautious grace. "I studied your weaknesses, Benedic. I leaned your vulnerabilities."

   Benedic drew his sword. "One fights with the mind as well as the body, is that not what you used to tell me?"

   "I'm flattered that you remember." Moving with an agility that belied his age, he opened with a straight thrust and disengaged inward. "The pity of it is that I have studied other techniques since tour schoolroom days."

   "Show me."

   Edward circled the shadowed form in front of him. Once in Paris he had been a maître d'armes, which was when Benedic suspected he had made his French connections. "Sebastian thought he could bring me down, too. Do you know exactly how he died?"

   Benedic did not waver. There was no emotional manipulation or mental torment that could break his concentration now. He had come back from the grave for this moment. He had sat in this unbreathable hole for weeks, picturing the exact scene as it unfolded before him. He had planned how he would execute each move. He had prepared himself for every eventuality.

   Not even hearing the vile description of how Sebastian had been ambushed and brutally killed could distract him. Edward's taunts fell on his mind like raindrops on a stone, not penetrating his hardened emotions at all.

   "Do you know what his body looked like when he was found, Benedic?" Edward asked, attacking with faint and disengaging.

   Benedic balanced his weight and lunged. "Perhaps you should be more concerned with how you will look when we are done."