The Promise. Brenda Joyce

outside,” Alexi said harshly. “And he’s dead.”

      Virginia gasped. Cliff strode forward, seizing Alexi by the shoulder. “What the hell happened?”

      “It was an accident!” Elysse cried, before Alexi could respond. “It was my fault. I encouraged him. I have encouraged his attentions all week. Alexi found us…kissing.” She thought she flushed. “They fought.” She looked at her father, begging him now. “It was an accident, Father. They fought and he fell and hit his head. Please, you have to protect Alexi!”

      “What did he do to you?” Devlin demanded.

      “I’m not really hurt,” Elysse cried.

      “Not now,” Virginia warned her disbelieving husband. To Elysse, she said, “Darling, we are going home. We’ll go out the back. And you needn’t worry about Alexi.” She smiled reassuringly at her.

      “I am not going home, not until this is all sorted out! He is dead, Mother, and—” She stopped. “And it was my fault, not Alexi’s.”

      “If Alexi fought Montgomery, then he was hurting you,” Devlin roared. “I want to know what happened!”

      “It was just a kiss, a terrible, disgusting kiss!” she shouted back.

      A silence fell. Virginia pulled her closer to her side. Elysse wiped the incessant tears, wishing she hadn’t spoken so openly. Finally Alexi said, his tone firm, “The pilot was making improper advances. Elysse was rudely accosted, but nothing more. Nothing else happened.”

      Devlin jerked to stare at him, clearly uncertain of whether to believe him or not.

      Elysse flushed as Cliff demanded sharply, “Where is Montgomery’s body?”

      Alexi’s gaze was unwavering on her. Elysse trembled in her mother’s arms. He said flatly, “The body is outside on the terrace.” Alexi added in a grim, matter-of-fact tone, “We fought hand to hand and he hit his head on the stone steps.”

      Devlin said, “So they were on the lawns, not the terrace?”

      Alexi looked coolly at him.

      Devlin was red. “Where was he taking you?” he asked Elysse.

      “I don’t know—I didn’t want to leave the terrace!”

      “When I saw them, I wanted to kill him.”

      Cliff paled. “Did anyone else see anything?”

      Elysse bit her lip. She didn’t want to bring up the two women in the corridor now.

      Alexi apparently agreed, as he sent her a cautioning look. “We can’t go to the authorities.” Alexi spoke rapidly and firmly. “If we do, the events of this evening will be made public, sooner or later, during an investigation and maybe even a trial. Elysse will never recover from that.”

      She knew he would do anything to protect her now.

      Cliff turned to Devlin. “We need to get rid of the body.”

      Devlin nodded, his face ruthlessly set. “Agreed.”

      Virginia whispered, “They will fix this, darling. Alexi will be fine and so will you.”

      Elysse prayed that her mother was right.

      Devlin and Cliff locked gazes. Devlin said, “We’ll bury Montgomery at sea. No one will ever know.”

      HE HAD JUST KILLED A MAN.

      It was half past four in the morning and Windhaven was silent now, its women soundly asleep on the second floor. Alexi followed his father, Devlin and Jack into the kitchens, the four men having surreptitiously entered the house from the back. He had shed his tailcoat long ago and his white ruffled shirt was black with dirt and oil, his sleeves rolled up to the elbows. It remained difficult to think clearly. What he was aware of was the pounding pain in his chest, the hammer in his temples. Even his ribs hurt, as if they were bruised or broken, so much so he’d had difficulty breathing the entire night.

      William Montgomery was dead.

      But Elysse was all right.

      He trembled in exhaustion. Elysse had been accosted—assaulted. She had been struggling to get free of Montgomery, her skirts tangled around her thighs. The moment he’d seen them, he had felt her alarm, her fear and her panic.

      He had instantly wanted to destroy the other man. And he’d gotten his wish.

      He was no stranger to death. But killing savage American Indians or bloodthirsty Africans or equally barbaric pirates in self-defense was one thing. What had happened that night was an entirely different matter—one he was having a hell of a time comprehending.

      Montgomery had been his shipmate, his pilot and his friend. He’d saved Alexi’s life. And he had just killed him….

      It remained utterly incomprehensible.

      The other men were in a similar state of disarray and filth. No one had spoken a word since leaving Limerick Harbor. In silence, they now followed Cliff through the vast kitchen, which was in darkness except for a small fire, down an equally dully lit hall to the library. Cliff did not bother to close the teakwood doors. He lit several gas lamps, instead.

      Devlin walked over to the gilded bar cart and poured brandy from a decanter into four glasses, his face grim. He, too, was lost in thought. Alexi simply stared, watching him without really seeing him, his head aching as never before.