Destiny of the Heart (Viking Destiny)

This is a work of fiction and should not be construed as real.
All characters and events appearing in this work are fictional
and the product of the author's imagination. Any resemblance
to actual persons, living or dead, or events is purely
coincidental

All rights reserved, which includes the right to reproduce this
book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever except as
provided by U.S. Copyright Law.
Chapter 1

Derrick Shane, Viscount of Eddings was slumming at a
small boxing club near the docks. Not many people there
knew he was nobility, but then, he didn't mean for them to
know. This was where he went when he needed more than
the boxing halls of his acquaintance could provide. The
gentlemen clubs he frequented had all sorts of rules for the
protection of its members, but what Derrick needed just now
was to mop the floor with someone's face.

Meanwhile, his friend Jack was sure they'd be banned
from the club after today. Derrick had shown up to the docks
in a mood he couldn't be talked out of, and that was always
dangerous. So, Jack suggested they visit the club to let
Derrick work through whatever was on his mind. If Jack were
a betting man, he would put his money on Derrick arguing with
his oldest brother, the Duke of Hollingsworth, again. Those
conversations never went well, especially since Scott had
been after Derrick to marry lately.

"Now, see 'ere Derrick. Don yous be gettin' us kicked
outta here again, ye savvy?" Jack said sternly. "I rather like
coming down 'ere an' las time they wouldna let us back for a
month."

"It was your idea to come here in the first place, Jack. I
won't make any promises."
"Bloody 'ell. Don kill the bastard or we be 'ere all day
answerin' questions." Jack crossed his arms and grouched.
He was beginning to think bringing Derrick there wasn't the
best idea after all.
But, Derrick needed to let off some steam. His
meddling brother was annoying him with the constant
pressure to marry and settle down. It's not as if he had to have
heirs right away. Derrick wasn't the one in the ducal position,
and his own estates weren't significant enough to require him
to have children in the first place. Not that Derrick didn't want
children at some point, mind you, but his brother was
pestering him so much that Derrick honestly considered
marrying someone just to shut his brother up. And that
consideration caused a lot of anger and resentment because if
Derrick did marry, he wanted the marriage to be based on
mutual affection, which wasn't likely to happen given the
nature of his family. And that was why he now found himself in
a run-down, dockside club ready to fight.
He went up to the manager of the fight for inspection.
The guy looked Derrick over as he would a common criminal,
but then, they weren't in the best part of town, and he had no
idea who Derrick really was. The men standing around waiting
their turn were the kind known to cheat. Jack had seen plenty
thrown out because they had slipped some broken glass in
between their wraps. The manager had been checking fighters
out ever since.
Cleared to fight, Derrick climbed into the ring and
bounced around to get his blood pumping and his muscles
warmed up. He rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck. All
signs of pent up male testosterone and the crowd loved it.
Jack sighed. There was something about Derrick that
attracted the crowd. He could be dangerous when he was of a
mind to be, like now, but he was mostly charismatic and
charming. It was hard not to watch him. Jack suddenly felt
terribly sorry for all the women of London who wanted him, but
just couldn't have him.
Derrick's opponent climbed into the ring. He was a
beefy mass of muscles and tendons that seemed altogether
unnatural. Looking at Derrick though, you would think a small
bugger with no fighting skills had just bounced into the ring. It's
not that Derrick couldn't handle his own; it's just that he was
aristocratic enough not to be concerned about things he ought
to be concerned with. But, Derrick simply thumbed his nose at
the newcomer and went back to his warm up. The man
growled at the dismissal, but stayed in his corner. His eyes
promised bloody retribution when that bell sounded, though.
The manager climbed in the ring and ushered the
fighters to the center. Derrick bounced forward with enough
zeal to make the challenger look a little worried. Anyone that
confident must be good enough to take care of himself; which
Derrick was, of course. But, Jack was still concerned about
the other man's sheer size, and that was saying a lot since
Derrick towered over Jack at least two head lengths. The
manager signaled for the fighters to bump fists and they both
gave it a half-hearted effort.
"I wanna nice clean fight, gentleman. No funny
business or I'll have my guys take care o'ye. Understand?"
The manager looked pointedly at Derrick.
Derrick nodded, his eyes giving the manager a cursory
glance before returning to his opponent. The burly man
grunted his acknowledgment; then the manager signaled the
fight to begin and hastily climbed out of the ring. Derrick's
opponent immediately went in for a strike.
Derrick wasn't concerned about going up against bigger
opponents. It amazed him how they thought their sheer size
was all that was necessary to be good at something. As his
opponent came in for the strike, Derrick parried and stepped
around for a vicious upper cut. He hit the man in the ribs and
managed to get him a good two inches off the ground. The
crowd quieted down for a shocked moment and then new
whispers went flying around the room. Obviously, some of
them were reconsidering their previous bets.
Derrick backed away from his opponent to give him a
chance to catch his breath, mostly because he was sporting
that way, but he also wanted the fight to last a little longer. His
opponent stood up from the blow and bulled his way toward
him, so Derrick swung a roundhouse kick to the man's ribs,
and sent him tumbling into the ropes. Growling, the man
barreled across the ring and slammed into Derrick. When
Derrick landed on his back, he exhaled so he wouldn't lose his
breath, then shoved the man off him as he quickly got to his
feet. The massive opponent cracked his knuckles and grinned,
obviously feeling as if he had gained some ground. But, when
he lunged for Derrick again, he was quickly disabused of that
notion with a solid jab to the nose. That was followed with a
sharp cross and two more jabs. The beefy man fell to the floor
of the ring and tried to cover his face, but Derrick swiftly
landed several more punches before the manager blew the
whistle.
Derrick walked back to his corner disgusted. He had
hoped this man would be a better fighter, but it was turning out
to be the same as always. These men were more focused on
showing off rather than fighting, and it left openings that
Derrick could exploit. Still, the crowd was stunned. They
watched Derrick drink the water handed to him like he hadn't
just destroyed a formidable opponent. Of all the blood in the
ring, not a drop of it was his.
Derrick watched the manager in the challenging corner
as he asked the fighter if he wanted to continue the fight.
Derrick rolled his eyes at the arrogant insistence that the
larger man was fit to continue. He had felt the cartilage break
when he hit the man, so he knew his opponent was not in a
position to continue fighting. But, Derrick wouldn't argue. After
several moments of vehemently reassuring the manager, the
large man stood on his feet and approached the center of the
ring. Derrick, who hadn't even been winded in the previous
round, took his time getting to the center. His boredom was
becoming evident, and it only made his opponent that much
more eager to begin.
When the manager waved his hand for the fight to
begin again, Derrick slammed his fist into the man's temple,
and when he landed his knees, Derrick threw an uppercut to
the chin that sent his opponent flying backward. When the
man's head slammed on the floor, the manager ran over and
checked his pulse, then opened an eye. He looked at Derrick
in shock.
"He's unconscious."
"Then I win." Derrick climbed out of the ring and made
his way to Jack.
There were some angry patrons who had just lost
money on that fight, and they were giving Derrick a look of
hatred. Derrick sighed and looked at Jack.
"I didn't get us banned, you're welcome for that, but I
suspect we'll have some trouble out in the alley. Best make it
quick." He said in bored tones as he shrugged into his jacket
and fastened his belt.
Jack looked around and thought "some trouble" was
rather optimistic. Derrick was quite good, but he fought fairly.
These men didn't.
"Derrick, perhaps it would be best if we left by the front
door and avoided the alleys altogether." Jack suggested, not
even bothering to dirty his speech.
"Do you know, I believe that is the first time in six years
you've used proper English. I'll not go out the front door just
because some thugs are a mite upset they lost money."
"I really think - "
"Jack, you worry too much." Derrick clapped him on the
shoulder and made his way toward the back door that led out
to the alley.
Jack sighed and followed, praying that whatever they
were getting themselves into wasn't nearly as awful as Jack
thought it was going to be.

Despite Derrick's seemingly bored tone, he was
perfectly alert and ready for whatever might be waiting in the
alley. As he and Jack made their way down the steps from the
club, several rough looking characters followed them out.
Derrick noted it, but as they didn't try to stop him, he merely
kept an eye on their movements. When they were out of ear
shot of the club, the two thugs began talking.

"Wah' you s'pose we 'ave 'ere? Think he's a nabob wif
sum trainin' Ned?"
"Could be. Least ways, he owes us sum money fer that
fight. I reckon since he didn't take his winnin's he can afford it
and don't need no money."
"Hey nabob, 'ear that? Ned says you owes us sum
money."
Derrick chuckled, and turned to face the thugs. "Well,
then you friend Ned is an idiot. There's a reason it's called
gambling gents. I suggest you don't do it if you can't afford to
lose the money. G'day." Derrick saluted the thugs and then
turned to continue walking.
Jack stared at Derrick as if he had lost his bloody mind.
Derrick lifted a haughty brow. "What?"
"So much for getting outta here without a fight."
"Come now. As if I'd let a prime opportunity like this
pass us by."
"You need to visit Tristan in a right hurry, you do. Let
the lad knock some sense into you."
Derrick chuckled, his humor returning with Jack so
uncomfortable. But, he stopped when he noticed that he didn't
hear the thugs following them anymore. He looked around, but
kept his feet moving. Jack noticed the change in Derrick and
groaned. They were dealing with professional thugs, not just
your average dockside drunks who were easy to handle. And,
Derrick had just single-handedly managed to piss them off.
"Next time you feel the need to relieve your anger, I
think you should go it alone, mate."
"Never bothered you before."
"Yes, but I wasn't about to be robbed before."
"You won't be robbed this time."
"Bloody everlasting hell."
Derrick chuckled softly as he scanned the street for
signs of the thugs. He could smell them, so they weren't far
away. Just hiding, waiting for the right moment to sneak up
and demand Derrick's purse. He didn't have to wait long. The
bigger of the two thugs snuck up behind Jack and took him
round the throat, a gun to his temple. Derrick gave him marks
for thinking that one through. If they had gone for Derrick, as
he thought they would, this would be over before it began. But,
Derrick wouldn't risk Jack's life.
"Now then, nabob. Ye was sayin'?" Ned asked happily,
certain he had the upper hand.
And, grudgingly, Derrick had to admit that he did have
the upper hand. Jack was good at many things, but fighting
was not one of them. He could hold his own in a fair fight, one
man against another, though he wasn't as strong as Derrick
would like him to be. But, this situation wasn't to Jack's
benefit. And Derrick, while he was many things, was not the
sort to leave his friend in trouble.
He sighed and took his purse from his belt, then tossed
it on the ground between him and the thug. The smaller of the
two laughed greedily and rubbed his hands together in
anticipation.
"Anyfing else you wish to hand over?" Ned asked.
Derrick lifted a brow. "No."
Ned pushed the revolver harder into Jack's temple and
pulled the hammer back in warning. "I 'ave no problem spillin'
his brains out 'ere on the concrete, mate."
Jack inhaled sharply but made no other reply. Derrick
grimaced and pulled another purse from his belt and tossed it
on the ground. He had been a fool to carry that much coin on
him, but he had meant to put it on the fight. Then he just forgot
about it when the important thing became relieving his anger.
Damn his brother Scott and his meddling!
The thugs grinned and bared their yellowing, rotting
teeth. Derrick wrinkled his nose in disgust.
"Gentleman, I believe we've all gotten what we came
for today, so let's just let him go before it gets out of hand."
Derrick warned.
Ned narrowed his eyes. "Yer not in a position ter be
tellin' me nofing, nabob. Ye oughta remember that, ye should."
He kicked Jack's knees out from behind him, and Jack fell to
the ground. He landed hard and groaned in pain.
Derrick took a threatening step forward, but the thug
reminded him of his position.
"Ah, ah, ah. I 'ave yer friend at the end of me pistol,
savvy?"
Derrick snarled. "What do you want?"
"I think an apology ought ter cover it, ain't that right
Nigel?"
Nigle snorted as he laughed. "Thas right, Ned."
"Fine. I'm sorry. Happy now?"
"Not rightly, nabob. Say it like ye mean it." Ned cocked
his brow menacingly.
In the distance, Kristen was annoyed. She thought the
haughty lord deserved to be knocked down a peg or two, but
he didn't deserve to have his friend threatened. Nor did the
friend deserve to be a part of it. Kristen stepped out of the
shadows and slipped behind the smaller of the thugs. She
pulled her knife and caught him round the throat, then kicked
his knees so he fell the same as the lord's friend. All the men
turned their attention to her, and she smiled brightly.
"Now that I have your attention, I think it time this farce
came to an end, don't you?"
Ned looked at the lady, mouth agape. Derrick didn't
waste time wondering what a lady was doing in that part of
town. He jumped forward and slammed his fist into Ned's
nose. Jack dodged out of the way just as the gun went off.
Nigel tried to get out of Kristen's grasp, but she
knocked him upside the head and vanished into the shadows
as he fell forward, unconscious from her blow. She hadn't
meant to be seen by Derrick Shane at all, but there was no
hope for it now. He needed her help, and she was obliged to
offer it.
Ned backed away from a decidedly angry looking
Derrick. In fact, the much taller lord suddenly seemed like the
devil himself with eyes that lit up like the flames of hell. The
street thug was quite certain the wench had just saved his and
Nigel's lives. He found his feet, and then hefted his friend over
his shoulder and took off. Derrick picked up his coins and
reattached them, then rounded on Jack.
"Are you hurt?"
Jack looked up from his vantage point on the ground.
He winced a little at the look on Derrick's face. It's hard to
describe to someone who has never seen Derrick, but he's
been likened to the devil because of his glowing eyes. Their
normal amber color looks exotic with his dark hair and tanned
skin, but when he's in an extreme mood, they glow from within
like the very fires of hell are inside them. Jack knew when his
eyes lit up as they were just now it was not a good idea to
cross him. Derrick's foul mood had just escalated to an
exceedingly dangerous situation.
"I'm fine. Calm down, your eyes are glowing."
"I'm of a mind to go after those two and end their
miserable lives."
"In all fairness, you did goad them." Jack stood up and
dusted himself off.
Derrick looked at him with sharp eyes. He inspected his
friend for any sign of injury Jack might have thought to keep
from him. In an effort to distract him, Jack thought he would
mention their rescuer.
"Who was the girl? Did you recognize her?
Derrick shook his head. "No. I don't think she was a
lady of my acquaintance, though a lady she was. I admit a
certain curiosity to her presence in these parts, but I suspect it
can't be good."
"Always so quick to judge a woman negatively." Jack
chastised.
"What other reason could she have to be down here if
not looking to take a lover?"
"Perhaps she was following you?"
"Bite your tongue!" Derrick said, appalled. "That any
woman should follow me anywhere, particularly without my
knowledge, is absurd. I've made myself a most undesirable
catch for a reason."
Jack chuckled. The Shane family was a formidable one,
and just about every mother in London wanted to be attached
them. But, the Shane's had their fair share of pain and secrets,
just like any other. The problem was that Derrick felt his family
secrets were too formidable to overcome. He believed that no
woman of worth would want him when they found out, so it
was just better to avoid it altogether. Derrick kept a mistress to
relieve his basic needs, but beyond that, he didn't spend much
time with the fairer sex.
"Derrick, I think you underestimate yourself, mate."
Jack clapped him on the back as the two headed away from
the docks.
Chapter 2