Bella and the Beast (38 page)

Then abruptly his weight lifted from her. Light from the burning oil flickered on the hulking form of a beast.

Miles!

With a fierce growl, he spun Hasani around and hit him hard in the jaw. The Egyptian stumbled backward and hit the wall. He bent over, moaning. Miles allowed him no quarter. He rushed at Hasani and grabbed him by the front of his robes. “You killed my father. Admit it!”

In the eerie light, Hasani's face reflected a perverted pride. “His Grace intended to open the tomb of Tutankhamen—son of the god Ra. It could not be allowed. Not ever!”

“Damn you. And damn that bloody treasure!”

Miles swung his fist again, but Hasani blocked it with his good arm. As the two men grappled, fighting for dominance, the Egyptian whipped out a dagger, the blade glinting.

“Miles, watch out!” Bella cried.

Miles ducked, knocking the knife so that it went skittering across the floor. Bella darted to snatch up her dagger. Even as she turned back, her fingers tight around the hilt, she saw that Hasani had managed to break away from Miles.

The Egyptian ran toward the fire. He flung out his arm and two bits of paper fluttered onto the burning oil.

The map!

Even as Bella took a step, it was too late. The pieces of papyrus touched the flames and flared bright for an instant, then darkened to ashes.

But in his haste, Hasani had tripped on his robes. He staggered sideways, teetering in the doorway, his arms wheeling. Then he fell backward through the opening and plunged down the stairs into the darkness.

Bella heard the sickening thud of his body strike the cellar floor.

Miles hastened downstairs into the gloom and came back up a few moments later. He hauled Bella into his arms and pressed his lips into her hair, his heart thudding in heavy strokes. “It's over,” he muttered, tilting her face up. “He can't hurt you anymore.”

A shudder shook her. She dropped the dagger and clung to him, her arms encircling his waist as she reveled in his warmth. “Oh, Miles, he meant to kill me—and you. He wanted to stop us from finding the treasure.”

He tightened his embrace. “Thank God I found you in time. When I heard you scream, I feared I'd be too late.”

Laying her hands on his hard chest, she looked up at him in distress. “Did you see? He burned the map. It's gone!”

Miles glanced at the patch of flaming oil on the marble floor, then back at her. He looked remarkably calm as he tenderly brushed a lock of hair from her cheek. “I can't say that I'm sorry. That map caused entirely too much misery and grief. The death of my father—and you and Sir Seymour being forced into exile for all those years.”

“But … you're a scholar. That tomb would have been the discovery of a lifetime!”

He cupped her face in his large hands. The look of adoration in his dark eyes made her warm all over. “Bella, my love. Your safety means more to me than any pharaoh's trove. Don't you know that? As far as I'm concerned, the treasure can remain hidden for the ages—so long as I have you.”

 

Chapter 28

The following morning, Bella found Miles in the library with her brother and sister. They were gathered around a globe of the world on a pedestal. Lila and Cyrus were showing him where they had grown up in the mountains of southern Persia. In turn, he pointed out the place in Egypt where the artifacts had been found in the Valley of the Kings.

Bella's heart turned over at the sight of them together, the three people she loved most in all the world. Lila, so sweet and delicate in her yellow gown. Cyrus tall and gangly, his shoulders thrown back as if to mimic Miles's proud posture. And Miles himself, his dark hair slightly tousled as always, his chest broad and muscled beneath his white shirt, his face relaxed and happy.

Joining them, she boldly slid her arm around Miles's waist. Lila and Cyrus regarded her action in utter astonishment. Seldom had Bella ever rendered them speechless.

She glanced up at Miles. “Have you told them our news, my love?”

His mouth curved in a smile that made him meltingly attractive. “I was waiting for you, darling.” To Lila and Cyrus, he announced, “Your sister has done me the great honor of agreeing to be my wife. We're to be married as soon as I can make the arrangements.”

Silence reigned for a moment as the twins stared, goggle-eyed, from Miles to Bella. Then a clamor of questions burst forth.

“Will there be a wedding party?” Lila said, her blue eyes alight. “Will you wear a fancy gown, Bella? Will
I
wear a fancy gown?”

“Does that mean we'll be living here for good?” Cyrus asked. “This will be our home? May I ring for food anytime I like?”

“Yes to all,” Miles said on a laugh, clapping the boy on the shoulder. “And now I must beg a moment alone with your sister, for there's something I need to show her.”

Threading his fingers through Bella's, he drew her out of the library and down the corridor to a nearby chamber. This one was grand as well, with gilded chairs and couches. She remembered being left here to wait on her first visit to Aylwin House, but instead she had surreptitiously followed the footman upstairs to see Miles.

Now, she noticed the numerous Egyptian artifacts on display, fine statues of gods and goddesses. But Miles didn't stop at any of those. Instead, he took her to the fireplace, where a huge painting hung above the marble mantel.

It was the portrait of a proud, dark-haired man in a crimson cape with an ermine collar. He was holding a sword in one hand and a scepter in the other. His harsh, unsmiling expression held a haunting reminder of the Ducal Stare.

She turned to Miles. “He looks familiar. This is your father?”

“Yes. The fourth Duke of Aylwin.” Miles gazed up at the image for a moment, his face showing a hint of regret and sorrow. “For so many years I blamed myself for his death.”

Bella laid her cheek on his shoulder. “It wasn't your fault. Surely you can accept that now. It was all about that map—and Hasani's determination to stop your father from finding the hidden tomb. I think Hasani fancied himself a priest of the ancient Egyptian religion.”

Miles's expression darkened. “I can scarcely believe that my father's murderer was right here in this house all these years. And that the bastard would dare to attack you—” He bit off the words and then gently touched the back of her hair. “How is your head this morning, darling? Still hurting?”

“Not at all. I'm just glad everything turned out well.”

His arm came around her waist, drawing her closer. “I have you to thank for exposing the truth. You freed me from that burden of guilt. Now I can see my father as a man to be loved and admired, and not merely as a source of pain and guilt.”

Bella reached into her pocket and drew out the letter. She hoped and prayed that it contained a message that would help Miles find peace. “I nearly forgot. I found this letter last night tucked into one of the journals. I believe Papa wrote it to you on the day after your father died. I don't know why he never sent it.”

Miles stared down at the two names,
The Marquess of Ramsgate
scratched out and
The Duke of Aylwin
added beneath it. Then he slowly turned it over and broke the seal with his thumb.

Bella would have moved away to give him a moment alone, but he held her close. “I don't have my spectacles. Will you read it to me?” He led her to a settee, where they sat side by side, their bodies touching, as he unfolded the letter and handed it to her.

A lump in her throat, she gave voice to her father's words.

To my Lord Ramsgate—

Words cannot express my sorrow at the loss of Aylwin. He was a fine man who loved you greatly, though he was too proud to show tender sentiment. He believed it his sacred duty to behave according to the strictures of his high rank, to teach you how to conduct yourself properly, to present himself as the model of a strong, principled leader. Pray know that your keen intellect and enthusiasm for scholarly pursuits was a point of vast pleasure and pride to him.

Yet I must confess that Aylwin's death weighs heavily on my shoulders. Last week, I made a discovery at the worksite, a papyrus map known only to your father and me, for it would stir greed in the hearts of the wicked. We divided the map in half for safekeeping. Yet someone did find out, and I dare not explain more for fear that you yourself might be endangered. I beg only that you understand I must leave your service at once and take my family far away along with my half of the map. Only then will you be safe from harm.

Yrs. with my everlasting affection & regard,
Sir Seymour Jones

Bella looked up at Miles to see his eyes glossy with tears. He glanced away, and she held him close, rubbing a soothing pattern over his back. “Papa must have decided that it was too dangerous for you to know anything at all about the map,” she murmured. “That's why he never sent the letter. If you'd known, you might have tried to track down who murdered your father. You might have been killed yourself.”

Miles drew back and gazed solemnly at her. “Actually, I suspected foul play all along. And now it is my turn to beg that you not be angry if I make a confession.”

“Angry?”

He set aside the letter and took her hands in his. “Bella, for a very long time I feared that the murderer was your father. I didn't want to believe it, but what else could I think when he disappeared? Then when you came here, out of the blue, I allowed you to stay because I felt compelled to uncover the truth.” He raised her hands and kissed them. “Can you ever forgive me?”

Bella could only smile tenderly at him. “No wonder you asked me all those questions about Papa.”

“And you don't despise me for suspecting him?”

She emphatically shook her head. “All of that is in the past, my love. It doesn't matter anymore. I'm only glad that you finally know the whole truth now. You know that Papa truly did love you—as did your own father. They merely wanted the best for you.”

Smiling, Miles pulled her close, tucking her into his side. “Speaking of the best, if only I'd known when I caught you sneaking through the corridor that it would be the best thing that had ever happened to me.”

“You gave me the Ducal Stare.”

“And you were not intimidated.” He stroked the bare skin of her neck in a way that released a flood of warmth in her. “That was the moment that I began to fall in love with you.”

Nothing in the world could match the joy of seeing the softness of love on his face. She snuggled closer, relishing the swift beating of his heart against her bosom. “For me, it was the first time you took me in your arms and kissed me in your study. Never in my life had I known such feelings existed. Oh, Miles, I do love you. So very much.”

“Then I shall endeavor to make you love me even more,” he said, a wicked gleam in his dark eyes. “Every night for the rest of our lives.”

 

About the Author

OLIVIA DRAKE
is a
New York Times
bestselling author who lives in Texas. Her novels have won critical acclaim and numerous industry awards, including the prestigious RITA. She invites you to visit
www.oliviadrake.com
. Or sign up for email updates
here
.

 

A
LSO BY
O
LIVIA
D
RAKE

T
HE
C
INDERELLA
S
ISTERHOOD

Abducted by a Prince

Stroke of Midnight

If the Slipper Fits

H
EIRESS IN
L
ONDON SERIES

Scandal of the Year

Never Trust a Rogue

Seducing the Heiress

 

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ABDUCTED BY A PRINCE

“Drake will have readers believing in the magic of not only a pair of shoes, but also love and the joy of finding your soul mate.”

—
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(4½ stars)

“I am a huge fan of the ‘Cinderella Sisterhood.' This novel is the enchanting third book in the series, and author
Olivia Drake
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—
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STROKE OF MIDNIGHT

“Drake's flair for mystery blended with humor and passion will delight readers … utterly enchanting.”

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“A compelling romance filled with intrigue.”

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“Another wonderfully written novel by
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