Violet Fire Read online

  * * *

  Shannon stared at the damp floor beneath her, unable to meet the earl’s eyes. Surely he would realize that she was all the things her stepfather had named her—and one more. A murderess. “Without the cane he could not steady himself,” she continued quietly with no emotion. “He fell backward and his head hit the bed frame. There was a snap. No more than that. I remembered thinking that breaking the walking stick made more noise. I found that strange, don’t you?”

  “Shannon.” Eric said her name pityingly, cursing the inadequacy of his comfort. The story she told flushed the earl’s face with anger and disgust. He ached for this slip of a woman, relating her tale haltingly and with much embarrassment. He felt her pain keenly and was selfishly glad he had refused his mother’s and his young wife’s offer to accompany him to Newgate. He would spare them this, taking the responsibility on his own broad shoulders.

  A shiver passed through Shannon. “I believe his neck was broken. Such a little sound…He wouldn’t have liked that. He would have wanted to make a larger protest.” She shrugged off another tremor. “I was frightened then. I did not want him to be found in my bedchamber. I did not want people to know about me…how evil I was and how he punished me for it. I dragged his body to the study and laid it in much the same position as it had been in my room, only against the stone apron of the fireplace. I waited there all night, and in the morning when our housekeeper came, I showed her the body and told her that I had killed him. I was brought here that same day. There was no help for it, you see; I did kill him.”

  “Good God, Shannon,” Eric breathed softly. “It was an accident.”

  “No. No, it wasn’t. I’ve told you that. I wanted him dead. And I made it happen. Now I want to die, m’lord. I don’t regret what I’ve done. Hell can be no worse than what I’ve endured. In truth, it has something to recommend it. My stepfather will not be there.”

  That Shannon thought Thomas Stewart’s black soul had found a place in heaven was too much for the earl. He bit his lip to keep from giving vent to the curses that would surely embarrass Shannon and himself. He hadn’t the time to convince Shannon that she was the innocent and not the villain in this vile piece of business. He doubted she would believe him if all the minutes in the world were stretched before them. Five days. He had five days to put things to right, or at least as right as was in his power.

  “Shannon, I want you to listen to me,” he said in his best patrician manner, knowing that she would respond to the authority in his tone. “Mother and I have agreed on a plan that will release you from Newgate. It is less than we wanted to do for you, but the lateness with which we received word of your crime has made it impossible to interfere in what has already been done. Your insistence that you acted with premeditation makes a new trial unlikely. Therefore, I must have your sentence changed. It will be difficult but it can be done. Influence and money have their places, and I will not hesitate to use either.”

  Shannon shook her head, though she did not look at him. “I want you to do nothing.”

  Eric hardened his heart and ignored her pitiful denial. “I will have your sentence reduced from hanging to indenture in the colonies. It would normally mean seven years of servitude while you worked off the price of your indenture papers, however, I can arrange with a friend in Virginia to pay the price immediately. He will purchase your papers and I will pay him. You will be a free woman the moment he has you safely in hand.”

  Shannon heard nothing after Eric mentioned a friend in Virginia. He couldn’t mean Brandon Fleming, could he? The thought brought Shannon’s head up sharply, and she stared at the earl, very nearly horror-stricken. “I couldn’t,” she said. “It’s impossible.”

  Eric misunderstood the reason for Shannon’s fear. “Nonsense. It is perfectly possible, and you will do very well there. You mustn’t let tales of savages and massacres frighten you, Shannon. The colonies are mostly civilized. Virginia has been settled for over one hundred years. I understand the countryside is quite beautiful.”

  “It’s not that,” she protested, taking a different tack. “How would I live? What would I do? I have no way to support myself. Surely I would starve.”

  “Do you think that I would make these plans with no eye to your real future? In addition to the price of your papers, I will give Brandon coin for your personal use.” Eric touched the heel of his hand to his forehead as he remembered something. “By Jove! This is famous! I had forgotten you met Fleming. Do you recall? It must have been four years ago. Yes, that’s right. We had just graduated Cambridge, and Brandon stayed at the manor a fortnight before he returned to Virginia. You were picking berries, I think.” He regarded her clouded expression. “Surely you remember Brandon fishing you out of the brook?”

  “I remember,” she supplied with no emotion, indeed, she considered, how could she forget? Brandon Fleming was the reason she had received the worst beating of her life. All because she had been forced into accepting a ride with a man bent on playing the gallant. It was after Brandon left the vicarage that she had suffered the humiliation of lying beneath her stepfather for the first time. While Stewart called her all manner of vile things and his mouth lay wetly against her flesh, Shannon kept her sanity by blaming Brandon for the ignominy of her punishment. Hadn’t she begged the arrogant colonial to let her make her own way home? But he had stubbornly insisted, giving her no real choice. Where had her gallent been when Thomas Stewart’s hands were groping her flesh? Where had he been when her tender skin was flayed open by her stepfather’s cane?

  What Brandon Fleming had meant as a lighthearted dalliance with a country maid had been the beginning of a nightmare for Shannon. Remember him? Yes, she recalled everything about him, and while she no longer blamed Brandon, the memory of his golden features, the cadence of his silky drawl were irrevocably tied to the humiliation she had suffered. That the Earl of Glen Eden should use Brandon to secure her freedom, and thus place her in the colonial’s debt, was anathema to Shannon. In those circumstances, she could never be free.

  She visibly shook herself from her reverie, hugging herself harder. “It is very good of you to attempt to help me. There are not many among the nobility who would go to such lengths for one of their tenants. You must not think me ungrateful that I am declining your offer.”

  Eric sighed. “I do not think you ungrateful, merely mad. Surely you cannot prefer death to life? As I said, I will settle money with Brandon for your future. With a small dowry you should have no difficulty in securing a husband, Shannon. Even without the dowry you would be sought after. There are many more men than women in the colonies.” He cleared his throat uncomfortably as he realized how uncomplimentary his words sounded. “I did not mean—”

  A brittle smile touched Shannon’s lips. “I take your meaning, m’lord. I am not offended. Even if I were a beauty, which I freely admit I am not, there is the matter of my crime, which would be off-putting to even the most mercenary of men. I do not think I am likely to find security with a husband.”

  The earl thought this over a moment before he responded in his most persuasive manner. “If marriage would not suit, then there is the matter of employment to be explored. I know that Brandon is in need of a governess for his young daughter. He wrote not long ago, inquiring about the matter. There is a shortage of women in the colonies with the qualifications he requires. You have some knowledge of reading and writing. Children flock to you. If he searched all of England, he could not find anyone better than you for the post.”

  “What of Mr. Fleming’s wife? Even if he should accept me for the position, surely his wife will not want a murderess educating their daughter.”

  “Brandon’s wife was—” He paused, thinking how to broach the matter with some delicacy. He would have liked to give Shannon the truth, yet was conscious of the need to keep his friend’s confidences. Eric had been shocked to learn that Brandon’s wife had abandoned him and their daughter. There were no details of what had caused the rift in their
marriage, but Brandon could not hide his bitterness, even in his carefully worded correspondence. “She was not in residence at the folly when last he wrote. Therefore, he has need of a governess.”

  Shannon perceptively heard what the earl had not said, but she did not comment. “What is the folly?” she asked politely.

  “Fleming’s Folly,” Eric explained, at ease once more since Shannon did not pursue a different line of questioning. “It is the name of his home. You must ask him about it sometime. He enjoys telling the story behind it.”

  “I doubt the opportunity will present itself,” she said seriously. “I do not want to go to the colonies. Can I not make you understand that I deserve the court’s judgment? It is not fitting that I escape my punishment through your generosity.”

  “Please, Shannon, rethink your position.”

  “There is naught to rethink.” She bit her lip, betraying her uncertainty. “I do, however, have one favor to beg of you.”

  “Anything.”

  “There is a locket in my room at the cottage. It can be found in a small wooden box on my bedside table. The locket contains a miniature of my mother when she was but a child.” Shannon saw the earl’s surprise that she should be in possession of an item so expensive as a miniature painting. He knew well enough that Mary or her parents could not have afforded anything so dear. “Mama told me once of an artist who passed through Glen Eden and was much taken by her looks. He did the miniature for the challenge of capturing her features. It would please me greatly to have the locket. It is the only thing I have of my mother’s.”

  “Then you shall have it,” Eric promised.

  “You need not bother with the matter yourself,” Shannon added quickly.

  The earl held up his hand to stop her. “Do not deny me the pleasure of doing you this one service, Shannon.”

  Shannon nodded slowly, keeping her eyes downcast. She had nothing more to say and she merely waited, hoping his lordship would take his leave quickly. He seemed to hesitate a moment, and the silence in the damp, fetid cell was thick. The Earl of Glen Eden had never experienced such helplessness or indecision. Finally Shannon heard his retreating footsteps. When she looked up, he was gone and the turnkey was locking the door in the earl’s wake. It was only when the key was removed from the door and her jailer padded down the musty hallway that Shannon’s brave front collapsed. The stone wall she leaned against proved inadequate. Her legs trembled then gave way, and Shannon curled in a tight ball of misery on the floor, keening in the manner of a wounded animal.

  * * *

  By mid-morning on the day of Shannon’s execution the sun had cut through the fog, lifting the gray mist that had veiled London during the night. Shannon was alone again, removed from her cell to await transport to Tyburn tree. Her wrists were manacled, and they looked absurdly tiny and frail against the heavy black irons. With some effort on her part Shannon may have been able to squeeze her wrists through them, but she deemed it a foolish act and accepted her chains without comment. There was one barred window in her cell, which had a view of Newgate’s courtyard. Shannon stood on tiptoe to raise her eyes and nose above the window’s ledge, and breathed deeply. She imagined she could smell sunshine.

  Shannon stayed in her extended position until her calves ached, then she sagged against the wall, releasing a heartfelt sigh. Only hours remained before the rope would circle her neck, and it seemed as if the Earl of Glen Eden had forgotten his promise. Shannon was disappointed, but she could not summon more emotion than that. His lordship had exercised his considerable influence these last days to make Shannon’s lot more comfortable. She could not fault him for neglecting to send someone with her mother’s locket.

  Shannon gently touched the swelling about her eye. It was less puffy than it had been on the earl’s visit, and she knew it was his doing that she had been given time to heal. The guards had stopped asking her for intimate favors in return for fresh straw or a bit of meat in her stew. She was given blankets, clean water, and a noxious salve for her eye. Best of all, there was an end to the cruel taunts and angry blows the turnkeys had leveled at her head since the day she arrived in Newgate.

  At first Shannon was skeptical of the change in their attitude, then she realized it was the earl who was acting as her guardian angel. Their sullen deference embarrassed her because she knew they thought her Eric Redmond’s mistress, but she found she could ill afford pride. She accepted the amenities the guards supplied and became deaf to the sound of their sniggering.

  “Shannon.”

  Shannon’s reverie was abruptly ended by the sound of her name. She had not even heard the door to her cell open and had no idea how long she had been watched. It was an uncomfortable sensation, as if she already had a toehold in some netherworld. She shook off the feeling, the prescience of doom, and faced her visitor.

  “Mr. Danvers.” The formality seemed out of place. After all, this was the man who had offered for her. Shannon was appalled to hear herself giggle. As she struggled for composure she accepted that she was frightened to her very core, and the knowledge made her angry. She had thought she had come to better terms with her fate. “William. I was not expecting…anyone.”

  William shifted his weight from one foot to the other and locked his gaze on a point beyond Shannon’s shoulder. Now that she was aware of his presence, he found he could not face her squarely. Damn the earl’s eyes, he thought. His lordship should have seen to this matter himself. William was embarrassed for Shannon and embarrassed for himself. And he was ashamed of what he felt. A ruddy hue crept over his rough-hewn features and he swallowed hard, clearing his throat. “His lordship asked me to come in his stead.”

  As far as Shannon was concerned, there could be only one reason that the earl had not come himself. Her violet eyes clouded with alarm. “Someone is ill! His mother? Never say it is the new countess!”

  William shook his head. Shannon’s unselfish concern cut him raw. He wished he had been more forceful in his suit, wished he had not accepted the vicar’s decision. He sighed heavily and his eyes slid over Shannon’s reed-thin form. He wished…God, what a fine wife she would have made him! “No. No, it is nothing like that. I came because the earl did not trust himself to carry out his own plan. He thought you would argue with him and that he would surrender to your wishes.”

  “Plan? What plan?”

  “Transport to the colonies.”

  Shannon’s eyes widened and the manacles clinked together as she brought her hands to either side of her pale cheeks. She wanted to press her palms against her ears to silence William, but the chains thwarted her. “No! I want none of it.”

  William stepped in front of Shannon and circled her wrists with his thick fingers, drawing her hands away from her face. “I know that, Shannon. His lordship knew it also. It is why I was sent. I am carrying out his orders. D’you see? I have no choice.” He paused and added gently, “And neither do you.”

  “I do! I do have a choice!” She tried to pull away but William held her fast. “I want to die! I want it!” Her voice rose hysterically, but it was only when William shook her that she became aware of it.

  “You must come with me now. The earl has arranged everything.”

  “Oh, no! Please, William, do not make me go!” Her throat, thick with the urge to cry, burned and ached. “Does no one understand? I do not want to live!”

  William, who had never been closer than arm’s length to Shannon, now hugged her to him. He was shocked to hear her speak so, yet his features were stolid, showing nothing. “You don’t mean it, Shannon dear. Later you’ll be thankin’ the earl for his foresight. Just see if you don’t.” He let her sob against his chest until she was spent. When she quieted he did not release her. William spoke quietly and firmly, explaining the situation as the earl had instructed him. “In a few minutes you will be joining the other prisoners preparing for transport. I will ride along with the guards to make certain you arrive at the ship safely, and you will board the Centu
ry with everyone else. His lordship has done what he could to assure himself that you will be treated with fairness and dignity. He has already sent a packet to Mr. Fleming in Virginia that explains your circumstances. With luck it will arrive before you do, and Fleming will meet your ship at Jamestown. He will purchase your papers, Shannon, and the Crown will be satisfied that you are indentured and serving your sentence. But you will be free, m’dear.”

  “I do not want—”

  William set Shannon from him. “Shhh. It matters not. I can do no less than I have been instructed to do. And you, Shannon? Would you fly in the face of the earl’s wishes?”

  Shannon shook her head. Obedience and respect of nobility’s commands had been an integral part of her upbringing. It was as natural as breathing to fall in with the earl’s plans. Her own desires were secondary. “I will do as I am told.”

  William’s hands dropped from Shannon’s manacled wrists. He smiled encouragingly. “Of course you will.” He reached into his jacket pocket, fumbled a bit, and then withdrew his hand. “His lordship asked me to give you this.” He opened his palm and showed Shannon her locket.

  Tears welled in her eyes and she rapidly blinked them away. “Oh! He’s had the clasp repaired! You will thank him for me, won’t you?”

  “I will,” he replied gravely. “If you’ll turn, I’ll fasten it for you.”

  Shannon gave William her back and held her breath as he slid the newly polished necklace around her throat. She was aware of his fingers trembling as he fastened the clasp.

  “It’s done.”

  Shannon turned, pressing her hands over the locket. “Thank you, William.”

  Her stalwart suitor flushed and stared at the floor. “I wish that things could have been otherwise,” he blurted suddenly.