Stealing a Lady's Heart: A Regency Fairytale (Fairfield Fairytales Book 1) (5 page)

Nick spoke first, “I am but two and twenty and have all the time in the world.”  He waved his hand in an airy way and laughed. “But you’re right, some of my brothers are getting a little crusty.”

Good-natured grumbling rumbled through the room, then Will spoke, ‘I will see the manner set to right before I marry. I want to give my wife and children a good life.”

Tom nodded, he clearly agreed, but Graham said nothing. Charlotte couldn’t seem to help herself.  She looked over at Graham, “And you?”

“I don’t know that I will marry.” Graham shrugged.

Charlotte felt disappointment course through her. So he was a rake. She should have trusted her first instincts about him. But his next answer rocked her.

“I am the third son and unlikely to inherit. I have only locksmithing and war to fall back on. I don’t know what I might possibly give to a woman.”

Charlotte’s mouth hung open. The answer was so honest; it completely shocked her. He was not at all like the men who loved only themselves. It would never occur to one of those men that they didn’t have enough to give a woman. This man was completely unselfish.

She blushed from his answer and her response to it. “I have pried. I’m sorry.”

His eyes danced, “Not at all, my lady, but the question must be returned. Why have you not married?”

Why didn’t he call her Charlotte? She stared into the depths of his brown eyes. He had answered honestly, she would do the same. “I want to marry for love and I want a man who loves all of me. I like working with orphans. I like being in the country. I don’t want to spend all of my time attending parties in London. I am waiting for the right man to come along who will share that life with me and not just insist I live life his way.”

“Your father is fine with that?”  Disbelief laced Graham’s voice.

“No, he isn’t. He is entertaining suitors but…” She waved her hand. Hesitation and a hint of fear laced her voice.

“But what?” Graham leaned in, pressing her for more information. She could see the concern on his face.

“The only serious suitor has been the Marquess of Huntly. I don’t think my father is seriously considering him.  He is a little disconcerting and he has managed to scare any other suitors…” Charlotte realized she was revealing too much. “I am being silly.” She waved her hand.

“We know the Scot you talk about. There are dark rumors that surround him. I am surprised you traveled this far north.”  Baron Fairfield looked deeply concerned.

“Doesn’t he live on an island? I will travel nowhere near him…” Charlotte’s words were abruptly cut off.

The front door of the manor burst open and a messenger bypassed the aging butler. “A message for the lady.” The messenger hurtled into the room as if demons were chasing him. His eyes were wild with fear. He stopped abruptly in front of Charlotte. Then he dropped a letter onto Charlotte’s lap. He sprinted back out as if the devil were nipping at his heals.

“How strange,” Charlotte turned to the men in front of her.

Baron Fairfield looked over her shoulder, “It bears the seal of the Marquess of Huntly.”

“And we were just talking about him.” Charlotte felt a chill run down her spine.

“Lass, forgive an old man, and open the letter in front of us or don’t open it at all.” The baron stepped in front of her to give her some privacy rather than reading over her shoulder.

“Why?” The letter seemed to burn into her hand.

“The Marquess is said to possess dark magic. It can’t be proven, but it’s a damn coincidence that you said his name and the letter appeared.” The baron’s voice was grim.

Graham stepped on the other side of her. Without thinking, she reached for his hand and squeezed it. She suddenly wished she had already married. Charlotte could use the protection a good husband would offer.

She let go of his hand and slowly, shaking slightly, broke the seal on the letter. She opened the flap, and unfolded the letter, quickly scanning its contents.

Charlotte gasped. “He demands my presence at his castle the day after tomorrow. He wants to discuss the terms of our marriage. He says that if I do not come to him, he will find me. He is threatening me! How did he even know I was here? How could he make such demands?”

Charlotte was unaware of standing but she found herself in the protective ring of Graham’s arms.  Her own were wrapped tightly around his waist. Fear filled her mind. She looked up at him, desperate for more comfort but his face was grim.

“Could your father have made arrangements with him?” Baron Fairfield asked, concern creasing his brow.

“My father would never agree to give my hand away without consulting me and certainly not to him! We both agreed he was not a viable suitor.” Charlotte was afraid to say the marquess’ name. While it had to be a coincidence that the messenger arrived when she had said it, it made her uneasy to think of using the name again. She shivered despite the warmth of Graham’s embrace.

His thumb gently stroked her cheek while his hand rested along her jaw. “First thing in the morning, we will escort you home to the safety of your father. He will tell us if he wishes for you to meet the Marquess of…” He stopped saying the name as Charlotte shook her head violently. He nodded once to show he understood. “Tonight, Will and Tom will guard the front door and your window. Nick, you stay out back by the kitchen. Set the servants around the house. Father and I will stay outside her door. We will leave at first light.”

Charlotte leaned her head on his chest. Just this morning, she had asked if Graham was the useless son.  Now she realized that the locksmith and soldier was the leader of this house in a time of crisis.   At least in her crisis. He had saved her this morning and he was trying to save her again. She tightened her arms around him. His role here couldn’t have been more important.

“Is it possible to send a letter to my father telling him I am coming home?” Charlotte’s eyes were filling with tears. She lifted her head and looked in his eyes. His softened considerably as he brushed the tears away.

“Of course. But don’t mention the oddities of the messenger. Some things are best explained in person.” Charlotte nodded. She knew she should let go of him, but it felt so comforting to be held in his arms. She never wanted to leave.   

As if he read her mind, he slowly removed his arms from around her and reached back for her hands, taking them off his waist. “Let’s get your letter done and pack your things.” 

“All right,” Charlotte agreed but her feet were planted to the floor. Graham gently turned her and, placing an arm around her waist, began to propel her forward. Her hand found his and held it, drawing strength from him. She looked at the man next to her. Graham exuded masculine confidence. Despite the situation, it made her feel safe. It also made her tingle in ways she had never experienced before in her life.

Upstairs, Charlotte penned a quick note to her father and sent it with one of her servants. He was the fastest rider and would beat them to her home.

Another servant packed her things as Graham informed her entourage of the plans. The best riders would accompany her and the Fairfields straight to her father’s house. The rest of the servants and the wagons would make a more leisurely return.

“Lady Charlotte, try to get some sleep. The morning will come soon and the day will be long.” He gently touched her shoulder.

“Graham, I don’t know how to thank you.” She lowered her cheek to touch his hand. Tingling sensations shot through her body.

He took her hand and kissed it. “You can thank me when I deliver you safely to your father.” With that, he was gone.

STEALING A LADY’S HEART

CHAPTER FIVE

Charlotte lay awake in bed for what felt like hours. Her fear over the night’s events turned in her mind.  Mixed in with that was the sheer excitement she had felt at Graham’s touch. Finally, she fell into an uneasy sleep.

As she tossed in her bed, a strange noise permeated her sleep. It sounded like scraping or scratching and it seemed it to be over her head. She woke slightly but the room was silent.

She must have been dreaming. She closed her eyes determined to get more sleep. But then she heard it again, followed by a definite scrape. What could that possibly be? She sat up in bed.  Suddenly the window began to open. 

Fear paralyzed Charlotte. “Graham,” her voice was soft, almost a whisper.

The window opened wider and Charlotte saw a black gloved hand and then another. A whimper escaped her. She was torn between screaming as loud as she possibly could and hiding so that she couldn’t be found. But as the man entered her room another set of hands hit the window.

He was dressed all in black with a black mask and black gloves. It made him look almost otherworldly.

“We’ve been breached,” a voice bellowed from the ground.

The window burst open and men seemed to pour through the opening. Two more climbed in. A scream ripped from Charlotte’s lips. Four pairs of masked eyes turned in her direction.

Graham burst through the door with a raised sword. Two of the men peeled off the group towards Graham while two more headed towards her.

Charlotte couldn’t stop screaming as Graham swung his sword. A man in black dropped to the ground, but more were climbing in through the window. 

Graham swung his sword again and another man dropped. But a man in black had reached the side of the bed and he yanked her off the side, dragging her across the floor. Graham doubled his efforts.

Another man grabbed her other arm as Graham killed two more assailants. Each of the men holding her pulled out a hook. She stopped screaming as fear overwhelmed her. But they reached out the window and hooked a rope. Then holding her, they jumped out the opening.

Charlotte screamed like she had never screamed in her life. While each of the men was facing forward, she faced back. They were grasping her upper arms and she dangled between them fifty feet off the ground. They slid quickly down the rope but she could see Graham’s outline in the window. He disappeared for a second and then reappeared with a hook in his hand. In an instant, he was out the window and sliding behind them. Hope rose in Charlotte’s chest.

“Shoot,” she heard Nick roared. She looked down to see Will and Nick directly below her.

“I might hit her,” Will yelled back following them with the tip of his drawn bow.

The ground was getting closer but so was Graham. She twisted her head to face forward. They were approaching the tree line. “Graham,” she yelled kicking her legs to try and free herself.

“Lift your feet,” he bellowed from twenty feet behind her. She did as he commanded without a thought.

The men clutched her tighter. Charlotte could hear their feet scraping the ground. She twisted again to see more men waiting for them at the end of the line. They finally came to a stop. Within seconds, she was ripped form the arms of the men holding her and trussed like a turkey. One man threw her over the saddle of his horse and the group took off into the night.

She saw Graham land on the ground as the horses kicked into a gallop. “I’ll find you,” he yelled as they picked up speed. She cried out, watching his shrinking form. In an instant he was gone from her view, swallowed into the night.

Charlotte did not have to think hard to know who was responsible. As she bounced along on the front of one man’s horse, she knew that the Marquess of Huntly had done this. What she didn’t know was why. Why was he so interested in her?