His to Keep (Regency Scoundrels Book 2) (12 page)

“I suppose that’s one word for him,” Mallory winced. “I first came into contact with the Marquis shortly after Malcolm’s death. I was leading a landing party, and we were given bad intelligence. We barely made it back to our ships by the skin of our teeth. During our skirmish, he referred to me by name, and told me that one day…one day he would have finish what he had started,” Mallory’s voice was halting, filled with emotion. “I…I lost a good lad that day. He was a lad that got in the way and paid the price for that bastard’s loyalties. And now, he is determined to make me and mine pay. He is a bloody monster, Gemma. He’s madder than someone that’s already traveled to Bedlam. You have to help Elizabeth get Susan back to the house—and lock it up like a fortress until more help arrives. In fact, knowing the Marquis, he’s probably set up explosives on the perimeter of the estate. I wouldn’t put a bloody thing past him. You must tread carefully with him, Gemma. He…he plays dirty. He is a ruthless son of a bitch.” 

“And here I thought the worst of your enemies were made during your pirating days after the wars against Napoleon,” Elizabeth murmured.

“Some of them were. I also made the best of my allies during those days as well.  Challant will be planning to escape by sea.”

“Mallory, fine. Far be it for me to try to go another round with you, especially when so much is at stake. I’ll make sure Elizabeth and Susan get back to the abbey safely. But if you are right and the Marquis has made alternate plans what’s going to make the abbey safe? He could have the grounds swarming with his army of blackguards.”

“Archie will be intelligent enough to send a rider for help.”

“I wouldn’t count on it. Archie has been acting strangely.”

“Strange? Strange, how?”

“He isn’t the Archie I thought I knew, Mallory.”

“Gemma, right now, I’m not in any mood for you trying to beat up poor Archie.” There was unmistakable anger in Mallory’s voice, not just the usual annoyance he displayed with her. 

“Come on, Elizabeth, since Mallory wants to stick around right in the thick of it, we should make our way to safety. He might be running around like a fool, but we are women, we know better.”

Mallory gave her a silent appraisal. “You look like hell, it becomes you, pet.” He gave her another once over. “Where are your weapons? How in the blazes did you get as far as the carriage?”

“I employed some of those fighting skills you and Malcolm gave me. I was so young when you taught me, I thought that maybe I’d forgotten it all, but it all came rushing back to me in a great flood.”

He nodded his head and grimaced. “How’s about you employ those sword fighting skills we taught you? Take one of their cutlasses and get back out there. You’ll need something to defend Elizabeth and Susan with, if you are confronted. Elizabeth will have to protect Susan, she won’t be able to help you.”

Gemma snorted. She couldn’t see Elizabeth wielding a sword even if she wasn’t holding Susan. Elizabeth was just too much of a lady. Fighting didn’t seem to be in her soft nature.

“Mallory,” Elizabeth started, cutting short when Mallory groaned.

“Elizabeth, do not argue with me—not now. You should know better. You can’t worry about me. Your first priority, our first priority is Susan. So, go now!”

“Mallory St. Martin, you adorable scoundrel, I love you. Good luck!” Elizabeth inched her way toward the other side of the carriage. “Gemma, are you ready?”

“Do I look ready?” Gemma looked down at her torn frock, she touched her wayward hair, and smiled. “You bet I’m ready. I don’t take kindly to these blasted blackguards threatening my loved ones. They shall pay dearly for this!”

“I know they will definitely pay. They have pissed off Mallory,” Elizabeth chuckled, and then immediately sobered. “I wouldn’t be so frightened if I didn’t have Susan to fret about. Promise me, Gemma that you will make sure Susan gets to safety.”

“You needn’t worry.” She touched Elizabeth softly on the arm. “Just stay close behind me, I’ll make sure you and Susan aren’t hurt.” Slipping the slipper back on that she’d knocked out Mallory’s attacker with, she reached for the carriage door. The noise of the battle still carried to them through the carriage. There was no telling how the tide had turned…if it had turned at all. “It’s now or never,” she breathed nervously. 

“Now,” Elizabeth said grimly. There was a hardened edge to her voice, which Gemma had never heard before. It earned Elizabeth her respect.

Creaking it open, she carefully looked around for anyone that might try to kill them as they were alighting from the carriage. “The coast is clear, let’s go. Mallory, just make sure you come back to us in one piece. I don’t feel like burying another brother of mine!”

“I’ll try to make your wish my command.” She could feel Mallory’s presence behind them. She wished that Mallory would come with them, but she knew he was gunning for the Frenchie’s ass, even if she thought it was a noble gesture, it was a foolish one, right at the moment. 

She stepped out of the carriage first, constantly keeping an eye out for more attackers. Her heart stalled at the sight of Archie engaged in fierce combat. She bit her lip. She wanted to jump into the fray with him, but her duty to Elizabeth and Susan came first. He might be her husband, but he hadn’t earned her loyalty the way that Mallory, Elizabeth and Susan had. Would she be made a widow this night? She might not have to worry about following Archie anywhere. Widows could do what they pleased. She shook her head as pain seized her heart. How heartless could she be? She was being an inhuman wretch.

“There seems to be a clear path to the house. Let’s get a move on, then.”

“I am right behind you,” Elizabeth whispered. 

She kept her eyes pinned on Archie for a moment or two longer, and then even though she felt a deadening sensation in the pit of her stomach, she proceeded toward the castle.

Elizabeth followed her so closely that she kept brushing up against her. Susan was unusually quiet. How her niece had managed to sleep through the entire adventure was beyond her.

“I just hope there aren’t more of Challant’s men in the house. If we do walk into another damn trap, Elizabeth, I’ll create a distraction and you can slip unnoticed into one of the secret passages, wait there until more help arrives. I know you are going to fight me on this, don’t!”

“I won’t. Ordinarily, I’d be inclined to challenge you since you’ve taken charge of the entire situation without really consulting me, yet, I can understand where you’re coming from. I am a mother first, and my duty is protecting Susan.”

“Good. At least we both know what our duties are.” She stopped at the sound of rustling in the bushes. Holding her hand up, she heard Elizabeth skid to a halt behind them. They were so close to the front entrance of the abbey. She looked behind them. Somehow, Mallory and Archie had managed to drive Challant’s men farther away from the house, giving Elizabeth and her lots of room to breathe. She scanned the area for Lord Vexing. She couldn’t see the bugger. Why did she get the feeling that she was walking into another trap? She knew she couldn’t go back, and she couldn’t go forward…but they had to go forward. Susan had to get out of the chilly night air.

“I have a bad feeling about this, Elizabeth.”

“You too?” she asked uneasily. 

Gemma stared at the rustling bushes, and breathed a sigh of relief when a rabbit popped its head out of the bushes.

“Thank God for small blessings,” Elizabeth murmured.

“Indeed.” They approached the still serene looking abbey. How many men and women had lost their lives on these grounds over the last one thousand years? That question made her shudder. Pray God that no one would lose their life today. “If the door doesn’t immediately open, then we know the Marquis has somehow gotten past the men who were trying to defend it. Oh, if only we were back at Chichester Castle, they wouldn’t have had a hope then. The servants will no doubt be otherwise indisposed.”

“Agreed,” Elizabeth said. 

Just as she stepped up onto the threshold, the grand door swung open. Her heart skipped in her chest. The family butler had unmistakable fear glimmering in his eyes. She was about to speak, when she heard something that topped her night right off.

“So, we meet again, Lady Northam. I’m afraid, I’ll have to pay you back in kind for this!” She looked to where the Marquis stood behind her butler. He was awfully sore about her having shot him. He lifted his pistol, aiming it directly at her. She could hear Elizabeth moving to the side. She was doing just as Gemma had instructed. While his attention was completely focused on her, Elizabeth was scurrying away, getting her and Susan out of the line of fire.

She was glad. She didn’t fear death—Malcolm and her father would be waiting for her. At least now, she didn’t have to face married life to Archie. She smiled.

The Marquis smiled back at her and she closed her eyes just before he discharged his pistol.

Chapter Seventeen

Gemma should have felt pain.

She should be dead. She’d closed her eyes when he had discharged his pistol, but unless you could die without feeling anything, she was still alive.

Impossible.

She looked in front of her. He had hit her butler instead. Bastard.

“No!” Tears welled in her eyes.

Ainsworth’s eyes were cloudy with pain. She breathed a sigh of relief realizing he was still alive.

Without thinking, she moved to his side, and supported him, leading him over to the wall. He was bleeding, quite heavily, and his blood splattered her dress.

“Chin up, Mr. Ainsworth, you are going to be all right,” she whispered. She helped him to slip out of his coat so that he only wore a shirt. She bunched up the material and put it against his wound, hoping the pressure would slow the bleeding. By what she could see, the shot had gone straight through. 

“Not if I put another bullet hole in him—I might decide to do that if you don’t cooperate with me. Do you think I missed the duchess slipping away? How did she disappear like that? You will tell me, or I shall finish him!”

“No, don’t tell them,” Ainsworth rasped, clutching her hand. Ainsworth was old enough to be her father, and he’d served their family faithfully through all of these years—to think he could die, was sucking the strength out of her. 

“I don’t know where she went. Do you honestly think that I would be privy to everything my brother, The Duke, would want to share with his wife about this estate’s many secrets? I am a mere female. I am just as you said before, the daughter of a dead duke. I have no real power or authority when it comes to the running of my brother’s properties. And if you truly knew how my brother treats me, you would know that awful truth.”

His dark cold black eyes flickered with doubt. Then, he chuckled. She felt as if someone had rubbed icicles down her back.

“In that case, I shall have to finish your butler off.”

“No! Not that.” She knelt in front of Ainsworth blocking the Marquis’s next shot.  She was sitting in a most unladylike position, and yet, she didn’t give a damn. “I hate to disappoint you, Monsieur Challant, but you’ll simply have to shoot me first.”

“Ah, you are a corky one. I admire your bravery, Lady Northam. You are quite the little spitfire. How astounding and in some ways, rather refreshing. Your brother must have remembered me well, since you now know my name.”

“Somehow, I am thinking you made quite the impression on him,” she lowered her voice and put as much hatred into it as she could muster considering the circumstances. She really wished that Archie would get a move on, fighting his way back to reclaiming possession of the house. She had all of these fighting men around her, and yet, why did she find herself staring down the barrel of a pistol?

“And he made quite the impact on me, when he killed my youngest brother. He was seventeen. Did your saintly brother know that? He was no more than a boy, and your brother took him before he could live into manhood,” he snarled. Rage enveloped his features like a clap of thunder.

She shivered. She could feel the man’s seething hatred for Mallory. In fact, if Mallory had been present, she felt quite certain the Marquis would try to kill him with his bare hands.

“My brother would never kill someone so young without having just cause for it. Your brother must have been a threat to my brother’s life. I am quite certain that Mallory only acted in self-defence. Men act on instinct in times of war. He can’t be held responsible for his actions during that time.”

“Yes, you can keep on telling yourself that, Lady Gemma. But I’m still going to exact my revenge. I will not leave this estate without having the blood of His Grace’s cherished family on my hands.”

“Your brother was killed during wartime. And yet, you would come and kill us without any provocation? You are a butcher, and a madman. To come after his innocent family is revolting. You, sir, are a disgusting specimen of the human race.”

“I think I’m beginning to like you, Lady Northam. Do not misconstrue my affection for devotion. I will still take what I want from the Duke.”

“Not if I have anything to do about it,” she vowed, darting a quick look at Ainsworth. Smashed porcelain littered the marble floor beneath her, she hadn’t noticed it until now, but since Ainsworth had been shot, her awareness of her surroundings had intensified. Obviously, the Marquis had been intent upon damaging as much of the abbey as he could. She looked up at the angel cherubs flanking the main stairwell, resting her eyes briefly on the marble statues created by Antonio Carnova. Resting her eyes on the portrait of one of her ancestors, she inhaled deeply.

Would she survive this night? 

“You are a most unique female. I have only known one or two other women that would be able to bask in your glorious personality. You shine with radiance when you are in such a passionate state. I find myself intrigued by you. I adore a woman with such fire. I am quite certain your hot-blooded temper could be well used by me in bed. You have such a passionate nature, I can only imagine how beguiling you would be when aroused.”

Dread slithered up and down her spine. She didn’t want Challant putting one finger on her. She shuddered. 

“Passionate? Well, if that’s what you want to call it. I despise you. You aren’t fit to look me in the eye, least of all share my bed.” Good God, they were bold words for someone quivering with fear. 

“You should be glad that I am being amused by your defiance, or you would be dead right now. I should like to take my revenge against St. Martin by taking all that he treasures but perhaps, I acted in error. St. Martin didn’t take my wife from me, or my children, for I have no wife—and no children that I know of. To be brutally honest, I may have a few by-blows. But they are irrelevant.” He waved his hand in gesture of dismissal. 

Gemma’s ears burned. Exhaustion finally took hold of her. The night had been emotionally exhausting for her. If they didn’t find a way to get rid of the blasted Marquis soon, he was going to kill someone. Ainsworth was still alive, even though he was bleeding terribly, and she knew he had to get medical treatment soon. 

“Then, take me, just as I have offered you. I am the next in line to Mallory. He loves me best out of all of my sisters. My brother took your brother, so to be fair, you should take me! It is the only logical course of action.”

“To be fair, I should take his brother.” His eyes glittered like dark chips of onyx at her. 

“You are too late, sir. The wars already did that,” she whispered, her voice welling with pain. A raging burning sensation crawled into her chest, impairing her ability to breathe evenly.  

He inclined his head. His obsidian like eyes still glinted with hatred. She didn’t realize she was holding her breath until she exhaled. The moment suspended between them, like a frozen pendulum. For one brief second, they were locked in their own battle of wills. Now she knew who the true villain in her life was. She’d been so childish when she’d rebelled against Mallory choosing Archie for her.

Archie was a good man. Maybe one of the best she’d ever know. And, if she truly reached into her heart, she knew she had cared nothing for Duxford. If she made it out of this mess with the Marquis alive, she would make a happy life with Archie as her husband. He had shown her the true measure of a man, he had shown her kindness and tolerance, and he had shown her tenderness—all within a very short span of time. He had her love, her devotion and her loyalty. Her heart quickened when she heard his voice, and saw his face. They had only known each other for a month, but she had experienced a lifetime of emotions during that short period, and finally, she was becoming the sort of woman and daughter her mother had probably always hoped for. 

“I will take you up on your generous offer, Lady Northam. You will be happy to know that I will also spare your niece, and her American mother. I always did have a hankering for the lovely English roses.”

Her stomach churned. “I thought you were going to—”

Her voice trailed off. He smiled craftily. It was a beastly sickening smile, which made her want to heave.

“I must have been misunderstood. I wasn’t going to kill my hostages. What sort of worth would they be to me if they were dead? No, I was going to make St. Martin suffer by taking all that he loved away from him, and keeping them where he could never get to them.” This man was spinning a tale formed out of nonsense. She didn’t believe a word he said, and yet she did believe that he hated Mallory and by extension his family. 

“I would rather be dead,” she decided, loosening her hold on Ainsworth, as she stood up. “Shoot me now, and spare me one minute more of your tiresome company.”

He ignored her and nodded to one of his men. The man came toward her and guided her toward him. The viselike grip he put on her wrist, made her grit her teeth together.

“We have made a bargain, you will uphold what I believe to be your end of it.” She remained silent. She didn’t want him to turn around and kill Ainsworth just for the fun of it.

“I will uphold my end, I am always a woman of my word,” she vowed, lifting her head high. 

“Jolly good. Now, at least I will be able to send detailed letters to your brother telling him how much I am enjoying his sister.”

“My brother will come after me.”

“I don’t think he will, because if he does, you shall end up dead, Madam.” 

“You do not frighten me, sir.”

“Perhaps, I do not. But my partner no doubt will. Oh, he has been known to strike the fear of God into people.”

“Partner?”

“Yes, didn’t you know? I have had a helping hand in my little plot to come here, though I do think my partner wouldn’t like my rather brutal tactics that I employ. He’s exceedingly chivalrous when it comes to the fair sex and children. He believes they are to be protected.”

Her stomach turned sour, dread rushing throughout her body. “Who is this partner?”

“It is I, your lord husband.” Archie stepped out of the shadows.

Her heart stopped. “Why?” She felt something snap inside of her. This was the worst kind of betrayal. 

“Because my dearest, there is more to me than meets the eye.”