A Suitable Vengeance - By Elizabeth George Page 0,36

her knees. He shoved her forward. Putting one foot on her shoulder, he plunged her head beneath the water. When she fought for air, he shoved her back down.

St. James felt rather than saw Lady Helen turn to him.

His entire body had gone icy.

"Simon!" Never had his own name sounded so dreadful.

Below them, Brooke dragged Sidney to her feet. But her arms now released, she fell upon him, undaunted.

"Kill . . . you ..." She was sobbing for breath. She aimed an ineffective blow at his face, attempted to smash her knee into his groin.

He filled his hand with her short, wet hair, hauled her head back sharply, and punched her. The blow and those that followed it resounded hollowly against the cliff. In defence, she lashed out at him, succeeding in getting her hands round his throat. Her fingers dug into his knotted veins and twisted.

He ripped her hands away, catching her arms once again. But she was too quick for him this time. She turned her head and sank her teeth into the side of his neck.

"Jesus!" Brooke released her, stumbled back up onto the beach and sank into the sand.

He held his hand to the spot where Sidney had bitten him. When he brought his hand away, it showed red with his blood.

Freed, Sidney struggled out of the water: Her dress hung on her body like a sodden second skin. She was coughing, wiping at her cheeks and her eyes. Her strength was spent.

It was then that Brooke moved. With a ragged curse, he leaped to his feet, grabbed her, and threw her to the ground.

He straddled her body. He filled his fist with sand and ground it into her hair and across her face. On the rock above, Peter and Sasha watched curiously.

Sidney squirmed beneath him, coughing, crying, trying ineffectually to push him away.

"You want physical," he grunted, pressing one arm down against her neck. "You really want physical. Let's have it, hmm?"

He fumbled with his trousers. He began to tear at her clothes.

"Simon!" Deborah cried. She turned to St. James. She said nothing else.

St. James understood why. He was incapable of movement.

Enraged. Unafraid. But most of all crippled.

"It's the cliff," he said. "Helen. For the love of God. I can't manage the cliff."
Chapter 8
Lady Helen cast only one look at St. James before she reached for Deborah's arm.

"Hurry!"

Deborah didn't move. She stood with her eyes fixed pow erlessiy on St. James' face.

When he began to turn from them both, she put out her hand as if she would touch him.

"Deborah!" Lady Helen grabbed Deborah's camera, dropped it to the ground. "There's no time. Hurry!"

"But - "

"Now!"

The panicked words spurred Deborah to action. She ran with Lady Helen for the path.

They began the steep descent to the cove, mindless of the dirt and the dust that rose round them like smoke. Beneath them on the sand, Sidney fought off Justin Brooke with the kind of renewed strength that is born of terror. But he was getting the better of her, and his previous fury was fast developing into sexual arousal and sadistic pleasure. Clearly, in his mind, Sidney was about to get what she had wanted all along. Lady Helen and Deborah reached him simultaneously. He was a good-sized man but no match for the two of them. Especially since Lady Helen was driven by a fair amount of rage herself. They threw themselves upon him, and their con frontation was over in less than a minute, leaving Brooke splayed out on the ground, panting for breath and groaning from several furious kicks to his kidneys. Sidney, weeping, dragged herself away from him. She cursed and pulled at her shredded dress. "Whoa. Oh, wow," Peter Lynley murmured. He took a new position with his head pillowed on Sasha's stomach. "Some rescue. Huh, Sash? Just when things were getting good." Lady Helen flung her head up. She was out of breath. She was streaked with dirt. Her entire body was trembling so badly she wasn't sure if she would be able to walk.

"What's the matter with you, Peter?" she whispered hoarsely. "What's happened to you?

This is Sidney. Sidney!"

Peter laughed. Sasha smiled. They settled themselves more comfortably to enjoy the sun.

Lady Helen listened at the heavy panels of St. James' bedroom door, hearing nothing. She wasn't quite certain what she had expected from him. Anything beyond brooding solitude would have been out of character, and St. James was not a man who generally acted out of character. He