The Courtship - Catherine Coulter [114]
“But she is just a woman, she doesn’t know anything, except how to lie. Oh, God, I will die now.” He was gasping, leaning over, holding himself.
“I don’t know how you can talk with that blow to the throat,” Helen said, not moving, just watching the effects of her handiwork. “Much less talk so we can understand you.”
“Thems were fearsome blows ye planted on ’im,” said the skinny little man in such an admiring voice that Alexandra stepped forward, shook her fist at him, and said, “Would you like to be next, you little sot?”
“Sich words from a countess. It be a disgrace.”
“Be quiet. Hold your place, my lady. Now, what is your name?”
“Alexandra Sherbrooke.”
“No, not you, I know who you are. Him, the little villain.”
“Me name’s Bernie Ricketts. Yer son wot’s lying agin’ the wall over there moaning give me money to get them ladies. I knows locks, and I twists them and kisses them until the doors open like a dream, I did, and in yer son goes, all free like, into both them bloody mansions. Then I keeps the watch so nobody can come and nab us. I did everything right, I did. Yer bloody son, that one didn’t give me enuf money. The big ’un there, all blond and beautiful she be, but at the core o’ things, she’s a killer.”
“Yes, I can see that she is,” said Sir John Yorke. He looked bemused at the outpouring of all Mr. Ricketts’s confidences. He shook his head. “Now, all of this has been amusing, but I have much to accomplish before the new day breaks.”
“The new day has already broken,” Gerard said, trying to straighten, trying to speak above a whisper, because now his throat hurt very badly. “What do you mean?”
Sir John looked his son over, his eyes dark and very tired. “You know, I tried to kill you once, Gerard, and I failed.”
“No,” Gerard said, “no, that’s impossible. You may be sinister and no one really knows what you do or who you are, and I know that you beat my mother to death, but you’re still my father. You wouldn’t kill me, would you? Surely that isn’t right.”
“I didn’t beat your mother to death, you idiot. She fell from the balcony of our house, nothing more than that. As for you, you were my son and I had hopes that you would make something of yourself, but you didn’t. You are a wastrel. You are utterly worthless. You became a traitor to your country. There is nothing lower than a traitor.
“Naturally I would not let you ruin our family’s name, but you managed to survive the ship’s exploding and somehow get to shore.”
“But you didn’t make the ship sink. Even you couldn’t manage that, Father.”
“No, I hired one of the sailors to hit you on the head and throw you overboard, quickly and quietly. Then it would have been over, and your reputation of being a hero would be safe. The family would have been saved from disgrace.
“It was all arranged, but then there was the accident aboard your ship and it exploded before the sailor could find you. And then you were safe with your masters and I couldn’t get to you.”
Helen and Alexandra looked at each other. Sir John had fully planned to have his own son killed?
Helen said, “You honestly wanted to kill him because you discovered he was a traitor?”
“Yes, Helen. Gerard wanted money, and so he got it the only way he could. He betrayed his country. He went willingly and quickly over to the French. I don’t know how many secrets he sold to them, for he had the run of the Admiralty, as you can imagine, since he was my son. I discovered what he was quite by accident. The idiot left some papers he had stolen in his jacket pocket. His valet found the papers and brought them to me. I had no choice in the matter.
“I did my best by him. I puffed up the dispatches, had him made a hero, and then when I learned what he really was, I planned to kill him. There would be no dishonor