Light to Valhalla (5 page)

Thundering
hooves
echoed
outside
the carriage
.
“
Pull
over
ol
’
man!
”
A shabbily garbed rider swept past her window a pistol cradled lethally in his right hand
.
“Stop or I’ll shoot
ye
!”

Charley
dropped to the floor of the carriage, grasping the seat until her knuckles
hurt.

The coach careened
around another corner
.
A
gunshot exploded
outside
the window
.
Charley
screamed, clasping bo
th hands over her ears
.
The carriage tilted
precariously
throwing her against the door
.
Panic welled in her throat
as the vehicle continued to tip
.

Crack!

S
hattering
wood
split the
night
air
accompanied by hysterical whinnying
.
The carriage buckled
, crashing onto
its
side
.
Pain exploded in
Charley
’s head, a million twinkling lights flashing and weaving
before her eyes
.
“Oh.
”
She moaned, pressing a palm to her forehead, will
ing the world around her to still
.
She pulled her hand away sticky with blood.

Abruptly the door
at the top of the
overturned carriage opened
.
Slowly
her
hazy vision focused
on the grungy face of a man
.
L
ong,
filthy hair
hung in
dark
clumps around
his face, and his eyes shown
a menacing black in the eerie darkness
.
For a moment she feared staring up at the devil himself.

“Is she dead
?” a
nother
man’s voice called
outside
the coach.

“No, but it do
n’t matter
.
We get paid either way.”

The devil indeed.

A hand reached down
, snatching her upper arm, yanking her bodily out of the carriage
.
He clutched her against his chest, foul breath
raking across her cheek.

Reflexively she jerked against the brigand’s hold
.
“Unhand me,” she
commanded
.

“As ye wish.
”
The man dumped her on
to
the
ice
packed
road
.
Charley
landed hard on her
backside
.
“
Now, keep
yer
mouth s
hut
,
if’n
ye know what’s good for ye.
”
H
e sneered down at her
, exposing
a mouth
fu
l
l of
rotten teeth
.
Charley
wanted to gag
.
A second man in equally shabby clothing steered a
horse up behind her, tossing
a burlap sack and length of rope to the first man.

A chill which had nothing to do with the November air s
lithered
down her spine
.
She glanced
cautiously
between her attackers
.
“
Wh
-
who are you?”

“
Why, milady, we’re the men
hired to kill ye.”

Two

Beyond exhaustion,
Alex
collapsed in the chair behind his desk, pinching the bridge
of his nose between thumb and forefinger
.
His mother continued to rant on and on about an heir, his cousin
Sidney
,
Charlotte
,
and
a
slew of other downfalls
—
his
perceived downfalls
.
Every grating word intensified the throb behind his eyes
.
Little did she know the
barrage
she
dumped
at his feet
sat at the bottom of his long list of worries
.
Grave worries
.
He
lifted the brimming brandy sniffer and
threw a
brooding
side
glance toward the
broken
cabinet
.
His father’s prized whiskey was hidden in that secret compartment… if only he could remember how to open it
.

“
You still haven’t answered my question,
Alex
.”

Heavily he sighed
.
Was it too much to ask for a moment or two of solace? 
“I’m sorry
, mother,
what question was that?”

“
How long
will you be home?
 
A day
?
 
A week?
 
An hour?
”
Regina
’s shrill
voice drilled through his head, and he knew the real question lurking behind her words… had he
been discharged from ser
vice
?

His gaze lifted
, meeting her icy blue stare
.
For a moment
Alex
contemplated telli
ng her the truth, she would discover
it
sooner or later—at which point she’d really have a scandal to bluster about—
but i
n the end
he decided t
o let her stew
on the subject
.
A small
,
mischievous
smirk
quirked his lips
.
“The time frame is yet to be decided.”

Her reaction was everything he could have hoped for
.
He
at
flushed
her jaunty cheekbones, her hands clenched into claw-like fists
and her lips
pursed in a taut white line
.
The woman bore such resemblance to a witch he half expected
the graying hair wrapped in a tight chignon to spring loose and stand straight on end
.
“
Why must
you persist in
pursuing this military career?  Your negligence to the family and your title is reprehensible
.
I should have put my foot down when your
father sponsored funds for your commission
years ago
.”

“Please, mother,”
Alex
scoffed
.
“
Nine years ago
you could not have cared less if I joined the military
.
In fact I believe you were in favor of it
.
Thought I’d look dashing in uniform, yes?
”

“Well, nine years ago you were not in line to inherit!”

“
And who
would have anticipated a
fourth
son to
become
heir?
”
Alex
crumbled, head sagging in his hands
.
Miserable memories assailed him
.
The day he’d arrived home from the continent to
discover
that
all three of his elder brothers had met
an
untimely demise
swam nauseatingly through his mind
.
Instantaneously life had changed
.
Alex had gone from the youngest son, free to quite literally wish his father to hell, and make his own way in life,
to the next Marquis
Coverstone
, and
responsible for all the title entailed.

Alex
’s gaze
drifted to the oversize family portrait hanging above the hearth
.
Four familiar sets of blue eyes gazed back at him
.
Memories, mostly bitter, lurked in every shadowed corner of the manse, right down to the ding in the left corner of his father’s wooden desk
.
Today, passing through the front door, he’d
half
expected
three
surly
older brothers and a
n
overbearing father
to greet him
.
Devastation
plague
d hi
s
soul
.
Good terms or bad
,
family was family, and
he’d
lost
ev
ery chance
to prove himself in his own right or make amends
.

“It matters not what we anticipated.
”
Regina
snapped a manicured finger through the air
.
“The fact remains
you
are the
marquis
and
you
are responsible for all
of the duties and stipulations
as such
.
”

Irritation flared into full blown anger
.
“Mother—”
Alex
began to
rise
,
a slew of arguments
o
n the tip of his tongue, but
settled back
i
n his chair
.
Near ten
years in the army had taught him
to
leash a
famous
temper and
pick his battles
.
“I am well aware of my duties, and… you’re right
.
A
bout everything
.
Now, would you
be so kind as to allow
me a few minutes to relax?
It’
s been a long day, and I’
d like to get settled.
”

Regina
tilted her chin regally
.
“Very well
.
But don’t for a minute think I’m fool enough to believe
you’ve conceded this argument.
”
She swept to the door
, tossing a last cool glare over her shoulder
.
“I will win
,
Alex
.
I always win.
”

The door clicked shut
.
“Bloody hell.
”
Alex
slammed his fist
s against the wooden
desktop,
the inkwell teetered and tipped onto its
side
.
“Damn.
”
Reflexively he snatched
the crystal well off the desk
, but it proved too late
.
Dark liquid trickled down his hand
and oozed across the polished surface
.

What more
could
go wrong today?

His
homecoming reception
had
descended into total dysfunction even more quickly than he’d anticipated
.
No
welcome home, son
from
his mother
,
and
Charlotte
…
 
By the powers
h
e could still see her standing
in the study door
,
more beautiful even
than his vision of her on the battlefield
.
Since that fateful day when his life had been miraculously spared he’d seen her in an entirely new way… as a goddess… an angel… his savior… the key to his peace and happiness
.
Today the mere sight of her
swathed in a simple blue gauzy gown
,
soft strawberry tresses dripping from her upsweep
,
had left him
undone
.
He
’d
wanted her as he’d never wanted another woman in his life, burned for her
.
He burned for her still
.

Of course this evening
the goddess he’d built up in his mind hadn’t come running into his arms
.
Her smile hadn’t washed the
filth of sins
from his soul
.
In truth s
he hadn’t even smiled
.
Instead, she’d
stood
before him
,
eyes wide with such terror
and sadness
one would think
Alex
the devil himself
.
Not that he could blame her
after their wedding night
.

If one could call
that
a wedding night.

He couldn’t even remember having performed the act, which, really was too bad
.
The consummation of one’s marriage should be a memorable experience
,
especially with a woman like Charlotte
.
She was a fine little thing, t
he perfect combination of petite and curvy
, with a
m
ischievous personality to top it off
.
Since childhood s
he’d
reminded him of a
mischievous
fairy sprite
.

Alex sighed, s
etting the inkwell upright
, and
searching
for something to stop the
mess from spreading
.
He missed the days when Charley ha
d looked to him with the moon in her eyes
.
Why hadn’t he realized sooner
that love and family were the only things truly important in life? 
Convincing his wife he was a changed man would take time, and unfortunately time was the one thing in which he was sorely lacking
.

A river of ink
ran
across the desk toward the
stack of calling cards
labeled
Alex
ander
Rawlings, Marquis
Coverstone
.
He stopped short as the dark liquid
trickled
across the cards, blotting out his name
… his title
.
If only
blocking the cursed thing was so easy
in real life
.

Cursed
.

He con
templated the word
.
Yes, little doubt remained his was a
cursed family,
the
G
ypsy woman
in Spain
had told him as much
.

On the third day of May his second eldest brother, Timothy, had fallen from his mount in a steeple chase
—a frayed stirrup strap snapped—
and instantly broken his neck, just two
weeks
later Richard, his eldest brother, quite unexpectedly drowned in a
rowing accident, and one week
hence his only remaining brother,
Christopher, contracted a sudden illness and died within twenty-four hours
.
One week to the day after
Alex
’s marriage to
Charlotte
and subsequent return to duty
,
his father had
put a bullet through his
right
temple
—succumbed to overwhelming stress perhaps?
 
The physicians had speculated
profound
grief as the cause of the late
Coverstone’s
suicide
, but Alex
k
new better
.
His father had
possessed few admirable traits and grief was not among them
.
As such
Alex
inherited the title, and as such
he hated it
.