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  “God, but you’re a blind old bat,” Zoe said scornfully. “Not to mention a bad example. You had affairs, and Sophie followed your lead.”

  “I never—”

  “Blodwyn.” Torbel interrupted old Goggy’s heated protest.

  It had the desired effect. Augustus’s face went white with shock, then purple with rage. Breathing labored, fingers bloodless, he rubbed his chest furiously. “You—you…” He broke off before finishing the accusation.

  A wise move, Torbel reflected, since the unspoken word revealed precisely what he was. “Bastard?” he inquired levelly.

  Victoria’s eyes narrowed. Her gaze traveled from Torbel to Augustus, then back again.

  It was Zoe who demanded, “What’s going on here? Who’s Blodwyn?”

  “My mother,” Torbel told her.

  She frowned. “I’ve heard that name before.”

  So had Augustus and, judging from her pinched expression, Clover, as well.

  Zoe’s uncomprehending gaze met Victoria’s. Torbel sensed rather than received the silent message that passed between them.

  “Well, I’ll be damned,” Zoe exclaimed softly. “I have an uncle.” Then she threw back her head and laughed.

  “HE’S YOUR FATHER?” For all her composure inside, Victoria began shaking Torbel’s arm the moment the mansion door closed behind them. “Why didn’t you tell me? How long have you known?”

  A slow smile crossed Torbel’s lips. “God, but you are a pain,” he maintained. He kissed her before she could think to become indignant. “I wanted to be sure about us before I told you. I’ve always known.” His eyes fogged. “I think Robbie may have learned the truth the night he died.”

  “And that’s why he came looking for you on the docks, why he was so excited?”

  “It’s possible. Goggy probably still has the documents proving my birthright. Blodwyn made sure they were delivered to him before she died. He must have confided in Clover.”

  The door opened, and Zoe came out onto the porch. “He’s not long for this world, I’m afraid. Old Scratch is with him now.”

  “What about Clover?” Victoria inquired. “Will she be properly helped?”

  “Count on it. We’re estranged, but let’s face it, she requested an assignment in Stepney. She might not like me, but I think the sibling love is there deep down.” Turning, Zoe regarded Torbel. “So you’re my uncle. And Clover and Goggy knew it all along. I got one thing out of her. The truth was in the documents that Clover was searching for.”

  Victoria brightened. “That’s why Sophie went to Ireland. She wanted to find proof of her father’s infidelity so he couldn’t lord her own over her.”

  “Ain’t we a great family?” Keys jingling, Zoe started for the Jeep she’d borrowed from Keiran. “I’ll be off, then. It’s a full moon. Go ahead and get romantic. We’ll go shopping for offices tomorrow, Victoria.”

  Torbel waited until she was gone before arching a dark brow. “Offices?”

  Smiling, she wrapped her arms about his neck. “I thought you’d be pleased. You could use a good defense solicitor in Stepney.”

  “One specific defense solicitor,” Torbel agreed. His somber eyes—his Hollyburn eyes, she realized in retrospect—searched her face. “Are you sure about this, Victoria? I do have a temper. I lost it once after old Goggy slashed me, and I nearly tore his throat out. God knows what I might have done if he hadn’t collapsed before I really got hold of him.”

  “So that’s what happened. Everyone said you had a temper, even you, but I never saw any real evidence of one. At least, not one that was out of control.” Still smiling, she reached up and touched his scar with her mouth. “The answer is yes, Torbel.”

  “To what?”

  “Everything. Anything. I love you, temper and all. I don’t care whose son you are or how much magic you have in your veins.”

  Torbel’s smile had a wry tilt to it. “Old Goggy cares, always has. He swears it was Blodwyn’s magic, combined with my loss of temper, that caused him to collapse. He insists I’m responsible for his heart problems today.”

  “That’s ridiculous. Anyway, magic can be used to make good things happen, too.” She gave him a seductive nudge with her lower body. “How about brewing up a batch tonight? I’ll supply the bubbly.”

  All traces of cynicism vanished. Amusement played on the corners of his sensual mouth. “Fair enough,” he agreed. “And in case I haven’t mentioned it, I love you, too, very, very much.”

  “You have, but not lately.” She hesitated, then glanced at the closed door. “Do you think Augustus will be all right? He looked a little peaked when we left.”

  “He’ll be fine,” Torbel assured her. His own eyes darkened slightly on the lion’s-head knocker. “Scratch is with him. That’s all he needs at this point.” He saw her looking around. “What?”

  “I left my backpack inside. I, uh, don’t suppose…”

  “Yes, fine, I’ll get it for you.”

  “Thanks.” Sighing, she shook her head. “You know, for a while there, I thought Ron was the killer. All those secret plans and nasty looks he gave me. I still think he’s up to something.”

  “He is.” Torbel’s eyes danced. “He’s planning a surprise birthday party.”

  “What?” A delighted smile curved his lips. “For you?”

  “Yeah, but don’t tell him I know. I imagine he was trying to keep it from you, figuring you’d let it slip to me.”

  “Some trust.”

  “He’ll come around.”

  She regarded him thoughtfully through her lashes. “So it’s over, then.”

  “That depends on how you look at it.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean—” he inclined his head until his lips brushed warmly over hers “—as far as I’m concerned, it’s only just begun…”

  Epilogue

  Alone in the parlor, a tight-lipped Augustus finished his story. “That’s it in a nutshell,” he said angrily. He had to use his knuckles to massage the ache in his chest.

  Scratch swirled the dregs of his Scotch. “So justice has been served, then—in the eyes of the law, at least.”

  “The law’s a crock.” One bony finger stabbed the air in Scratch’s direction. “I still want Torbel punished. He’s responsible for Robbie—and for my bad heart.”

  Concealing his amusement, Scratch rose. “Justice has been served, Goggy, like it or not. You offered to sell your soul in exchange for the truth. Well, you got your truth. Stop kicking up such a fuss, and let’s go.”

  Augustus was halfway across the floor before he realized he’d moved. His chest felt as if someone were carving it up with a butcher’s knife. “Go where?” he demanded crossly.

  Scratch smiled. “Oh, a little place I know. You’ll feel right at home there, Goggy.”

  Augustus searched his pockets. Where were his damned pills?

  “Come along, old friend.” Scratch took him firmly by the arm. “No point stalling.”

  Augustus felt himself gliding across the floor. What an odd sensation. Gliding away from his ever-present fire, and yet he didn’t feel cold at all. If anything, he felt quite warm. Good old Scratch. He always knew what to do. Good old…

  His eyes came up slowly as realization began to dawn. Old Scratch? But wasn’t that another name for…?

  The tricky devil, to be seen by others, to have gotten close to him, to have listened so patiently. It seemed he’d sold his soul, after all…

  WHEN TORBEL RETURNED, he saw Victoria’s backpack on the sofa—and Goggy lying motionless on the parlor floor. He crossed to the old man’s side. No pulse, and his face had a blue tinge to it.

  “I heard you come back,” Clover said dully from the doorway. “Is he…?”

  “Dead,” Torbel finished, his tone as flat as hers. He sat back on his heels, wondering if he would ever find it in his heart to feel any remorse.

  Clover inched closer. “Where did old Scratch get to?” she asked.
r />   Torbel regarded Augustus’s staring eyes. His arm was stretched out on the carpet, his fingers curled as if grasping someone’s hand. “I don’t know,” he said slowly. “And I’m not sure any of us really wants to find out…”

  eISBN: 978-14592-7592-8

  SWEET REVENGE

  Copyright © 1996 by Jacqueline Goff

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the wntten permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.

  All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

  This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

  ® and TM are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and In other countries.

  Printed in U.S.A.

  Table of Contents

  Cover Page

  Table of Contents

  Excerpt

  Dear Reader

  Dedication

  Cast of Characters

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Epilogue

  Copyright