Stealing a Lady's Heart: A Regency Fairytale (Fairfield Fairytales Book 1) (15 page)

Graham stood for one second looPrince at the spot where Charlotte had just stood. Then, sword in hand, he headed for the door.

Nick and Tom were already in the great hall when Graham walked in. Then Ewan joined them.  The four men did not speak a word but strode out the giant doors to meet the Marquess of Huntly.  His father, the duke, little Ewan and Lady MacPherson, waited in the great hall.

The moon cast a dim light on the front drive as Graham peered into the trees. He couldn’t see or hear anything unusual. The wind blew softly as the warm summer night hummed around them.  Graham raised his sword as his eyes scanned in every direction.

The breeze stilled and, as if on cue, the crickets ceased their chirping. The whole night became deadly quiet. Graham tensed his body as he peered even harder into the night. 

A cloud crossed the moon.  Graham gritted his teeth. His hands tightened around the hilt of his sword.

A cry split the air as twenty men poured out of the trees and ran directly at the house.  Graham stepped one foot back for leverage and then hurtled himself towards the advancing line. 

The men careened towards each other. Graham’s sword swung back slightly for more power in the forward swing. Suddenly the still night changed and a fierce gust of wind swirled around Graham.  Two men who had been running directly at him were knocked off course. Graham stood unharmed while fighting broke out all around him.

He spun on his heel and, amidst the crowd of men, the marquess suddenly appeared. The other man’s eyes swept the crowd of men. They stopped when they met Graham’s. Graham’s insides tightened as he tensed for the fight. Graham bowed slightly to his adversary as the marquess turned to greet him.

Graham assessed the man in front of him. Long black hair was pulled into a pony tail. A hawkish nose protruded out over thin, hard lips. The marquess seemed to be sizing him up as well.

“How did you manipulate the wind?”  The marquess asked, sneering at Graham. Swords clanked around them but Graham paid them no mind.

Graham would not share that he had no control over the elements. Instead he asked a question of his own. “How did you find us in the forest?”

The marquess was silent for a moment. “I sense no magic in you and yet you have foiled me up to this point. I want to know how you did it. I want to know how an ordinary man has escaped me.”

“Maybe I’m not ordinary.” Graham shrugged. His insides were churning but he kept his exterior a mask of calm.

“No matter, my future wife will tell me,” the marquess taunted as he advanced a step.

“My wife will tell you nothing,” Graham softly stated.

The marquess stopped. His lip curled into a sneer. “Your wife?”

“Yes, my wife,” Graham smiled coldly. He knew he was goading the marquess. He wanted the other man angry. Angry men made mistakes.

“I will kill you slowly,” the marquess charged. From his billowing cape he drew a sword.  It looked to be made of gold with several jewels at the hilt. He raised the sword swinging straight for Graham but Tom ran in from the side and jumped in front of the Marquess. He attempted to block the swing. 

Tom’s sword shattered in his hands and his cry wrenched through the night as he fell to the ground. He rolled away as Nick stepped up and attempted to stab at the marquess. His sword almost bounced off the marquess’ stomach and the marquess grabbed Nick by the throat, tossing him to the side.  Graham looked at both of his brothers. They weren’t seriously injured. The marquess clearly had some power to protect himself. Like little Ewan with the visions.

“Your swords cannot penetrate me and your weapons will not stand against mine. You have lost already.” The marquess let a cold peal of laughter bubble from his lips.

Graham only smiled back. The grin on the marquess’ lips seemed to die. “You are not afraid enough,” the marquess grit out.

Graham cocked an eyebrow taunting the other man, “I have two older brothers.  Intimidation is not something I bend to.”

“I have seen what your brothers can do. They cannot stand against me. You should be afraid of me.” The marquess swung his sword high and tried to crash it down on Graham. Graham stepped back and raised his sword to block. Triumph gleamed in the marquess’ eyes. He expected Graham’s sword to shatter but as the two swords met, a resounding clank filled the air. Both swords stopped dead. They were evenly matched.

“That is not possible!” the marquess burst out as he swung his sword again and again at Graham. Graham fended off each one. “You don’t have the magic, you shouldn’t be able to match me.”

“But I can,” Graham growled as he took a swing at the marquess, who had to side step. It was Graham who was leading the attack now. They moved about the grounds dodging other men as they went. Out of the corner of Graham’s eye, he saw the double doors of the main entrance open. His father, the duke and little Ewan stepped out.

Graham blocked a thrust from the marquess and then pierced the other man’s shoulder with his sword.  The marquess cried out with pain and rage and doubled his attacks. Graham fought each of them off.

The marquess was sweating and he swayed slightly on his feet. Graham attacked again but the marquess fought him off.  The Marquess yelled and two other men attacked Graham as the Marquess retreated behind a line of his men.

Two more men joined the fight against Graham. He bested them but it took a great deal of his strength. He was gasping for breath but he turned back to his real adversary. He wouldn’t give up now.

The marquess watched from a distance. Just as Graham killed the last man he saw the marquess’ eyes fell on little Ewan. “Well hello,” he stared at the boy. Then he headed straight for the child.

“No!”  Graham heard Charlotte’s cry from the doorway as she raced toward them.

“Don’t Charlotte.”  Graham forced his legs to move forward as he ran towards his wife.

The marquess saw her too and changed directions to head straight for her.  Graham pushed himself harder.  The marquess was going to beat him. He would take Charlotte. Graham gasped for air as he pushed himself harder. Charlotte raced for him.

The marquess was winning. If he got to her first his men could close ranks around them and the marquess could take her. He wouldn’t be able to climb through the window to save her this time.

He pushed himself faster using every ounce of strength he had.

Graham and Charlotte met just in front of the marquess. “Kill him!” Charlotte screamed as the marquess bore down on them.

Graham attempted to thrust his sword but his arms were weak.  The marquess laughed maniacally as he raised his own sword above his head.

Charlotte grasped the hilt of Graham’s sword with Graham.  “Together,” she yelled.  The two of them thrust the sword into the marquess’ chest.

He fell to the ground a look of shock and horror on his face. Graham and Charlotte clutched each other as the marquess gasped for breath.

An orb of light seemed to rise from out of the wound. It was a beautiful pearl color that shone in the darkness.

“It is his magic.”  Little Ewan came up next to them. “Don’t be afraid. It won’t hurt you.”

The ball moved towards them. It danced around Little Ewan. The boy laughed delightedly. “I have magic already.”

The ball bounced slightly like it was laughing along with the boy. Then it moved towards Graham. It danced around him for a second zipping this way and that. Then, it moved to Charlotte. It floated just in front of her as if it were greeting her.

“Hello,” she said with a smile.

“No,” the marquess whispered, grimacing in pain.

The ball of light quivered at the marquess’ words and then floated down to Charlotte’s stomach. It pressed itself against her abdomen and seemed to sink inside of her.

“What just happened?” she yelped in fear.

“Your child will have magic like mine. But do not worry.  He will be a great force of good.”  Little Ewan smiled. Then, he looked at the marquess. “Do you want me to heal you?”

“No,” the marquess gritted out. He lay there panting. Graham looked up. The soldiers he had brought had simply disappeared. The marquess’ breathing was very rapid until suddenly it just stopped.

“Oh,” Charlotte’s eyes filled with tears and Graham wrapped his arms around her. 

“We could not help him,” he tried to console his wife. 

“I know. I will truly feel safer without him in the world but it is hard to see anyone die.”  Charlotte shuddered.

“That is why you are so good, my love.” Graham’s lips gently found Charlotte’s and they clung together for a few moments.

“Am I really your love?” Charlotte stared into his eyes searching his face.

He marveled to himself, wondering how she could possibly question the depth of his feelings. He sat bleeding, from a number of wounds, nearly having lost his life. “I will never love anyone as much as I love you.”  He kissed her again.

“I love you too. With all of my heart.” Charlotte laid her head on his shoulder.

The duke walked next to them. “You’re all right Papa?” Charlotte stood and embraced her father.

“It was not me who was in harm’s way. It was your husband.” He stroked his daughter’s cheek.

Will pulled his brother, Tom, up from the ground. Graham groaned. Every muscle in his body ached.  “I missed all the fun,” Will smiled at his brother.

“You did a terrible job of guarding my wife,” Graham glowered

Will shrugged. He looked at Charlotte. She nodded her head. Will took a deep breath.  “The wind whispered to us that Charlotte was needed outside.” Will rubbed the back of his neck with his hand.

Graham shook his head. “As long as I live I will never understand the forces at work here today.”

“We don’t have to understand them, just accept them and be glad.” Charlotte slipped her hands around her Graham’s waist. He leaned his weight on her and they began walking towards the doors.

Graham looked down at his wife and she looked up at him. “We have our forever.” Her eyes shone and Graham smiled down at her.

“We have our forever.”  He couldn’t have been happier.

STEALING A LADY’S HEART

EPILOGUE

Charlotte lay exhausted in her bed at Harlington Manor.  Graham sat behind her. He was cradling her and their newborn son in his arms.

A warm breeze blew in the open balcony doors, a rare warm day in early spring.

“My sweet wife. You did marvelously.” He kissed her sweaty temple, holding her closer.

“My handsome Marquess.” She turned and smiled softly at Graham.

Graham chuckled. He had not gotten used to the new title that had been bestowed upon him by the king regent. Nick and Tom had been made viscounts while Will had received the additional title of earl.  Money and lands had been bestowed to each brother.

Graham had been shocked that the king regent had been so generous just for saving his favorite cousin but Ewan had smiled. “He is the King and aware of all forces in his kingdom. He knows the real service you have performed.”

Graham had been introduced to English society and had the couple had spent a few months enjoying the season with the ton. But both had longed for a quieter life and Charlotte wanted their baby to be born in the north.

They had returned to help complete the repairs on the manor. Once done, they would begin building their own home.