Greyland was beyond happy that her maid, Elise, had finally arrived. Elise was the only one who could make sense of her out-of-control curls. Greyland had been told since childhood that her ringlets were a gift from God—at least that’s what everyone said—but God had a twisted sense of humor. No fashionable hair-style could be artfully maintained with such unruly hair.
Elise eyed her opponent with raw determination, as if sizing up how best to slay a dragon. This brought a smile to Greyland’s lips. She had missed Elisa so. Both her and their family’s longtime butler, Ocman, had arrived earlier that day. Greyland felt everything was complete now. She had everyone around her whom she cared deeply for.
“Ah-ha!” Elise exclaimed triumphantly. “I have just the thing. “She opened a drawer and began to dig through a pile of loose fabric intended for garment repairs. She clapped when she found a lovely swatch of black lace.
“I thought we were torturing my head, not making a dress?”
“Oh, you just wait, Miss Greyland, I have plans.” She dove back into her work with confident hands.
Ten minutes later Elsie took a calculated step back and exhaled. She motioned for Greyland to turn and face the mirror.
“Oh, Elise, you have done it again. It is beautiful!”
Elise had gathered the mass of hair high in the back and selected specific curls to be released. She had then pinned the swatch of lace to the top of Greyland’s head and wound the loose curls through the lace eyelets. The effect made her hair and the lace appear as if they were one intricate work of art. It was the perfect complement to the dress that followed a similar aesthetic with how the black velvet encased the bottom of her amethyst dress.
Greyland stood and twirled for Elise.
A slow applause came from the doorway.
“My, you are a vision,” Perkin said.
Greyland smiled. “So, you approve?”
“Indeed, I very much do.” Her brother smiled in return. “Are you sure Alexander deserves you?”
“I do not.” Alex rounded the doorframe and patted Perkin’s shoulder. “But every day I plan on dreaming up new ways to prove my worth.”
Both men stood in thoughtful observation for a long moment.
Greyland looked to Perkin and saw a proud older brother who was surely contemplating the gravity of not having her trailing his every move any longer, while Alex’s look was one of unyielding love and desire.
Her heart soared with love for them both. “You two better say something.” Her fingers fluttered in front of her eyes, trying to halt the threatening tears. “Elise will kill you if you make me cry and ruin this blush.”
As if rehearsed, Elise waved a hairbrush at them. A resounding laugh broke the spell.
“We shan’t have that,” Perkin concurred.
“Come now.” Alex walked to her and offered her his arm. “The world is downstairs waiting to see the most beautiful woman in all of the land.”
The ballroom buzzed with activity. Men in their dark coats and light trousers contrasted beautifully with the array of colorful gowns ranging in hues of the deepest crimson to the palest green. Alexander observed them all below as they moved about like a tapestry come to life.
Greyland’s arm squeezed tighter to his as they began their descent down the stairs. Alex drew her in tighter to his side, reassuringly. She was surprisingly shy entering large crowds, which was interesting considering how opposite she was in every other aspect of life. Still, he found it endearing.
Who was he kidding, he found everything about his bride-to-be endearing. From her fiery headstrong determination to the innocent way she picked at her lips when she was worried.
The crowd noticed them and one by one, their heads lifted. Alex would not delude himself with thinking they watched him; he knew every eye in that ballroom was fixated solely on the beauty at his side. She just had that magical appeal about her.
Now, Alex would grant himself one accolade. Together they made a marvelous team. He could also, unfortunately, understand why so many had sought to undermine their union. But they had failed. She was his. And, he would do everything in his power to keep her safe.
They took the last step together and as expected, the crowd descended upon them. Greyland smiled reassuringly and released his hand as a group of twittering ladies swept her away. Perkin nodded briefly and proceeded to the library where a group of distinguished lords were no doubt discussing some new act The Queen was about to dispense.
Alex turned his attention to his own host duties and shook Lord Anderson’s hand when he tottered over. After a few more pleasantries had been delivered, Alex walked to the edge of the ballroom and did something he seldom did. He observed.
To his own astonishment, he did not feel the slightest bit inclined to head straight to the parlor for refuge. Alex did not scan the room for predatory matrons, and he most certainly cared nothing for searching out a lover for the night. It was as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. For the first time in his adult life he could simply take in the evening without the constant reminder that everyone wanted something from him.
On that blessed note, Alex turned his attention to where Greyland had ended up across the room. Her upswept curls shined beneath the glow of the chandelier. She tipped back her head in laughter, exposing her delicate throat. He wanted to be the jeweled necklace adorning that sweet patch of skin. She tilted her head and smiled sweetly to a young dandy who had just entered the throng of admirers. Alex rolled his eyes, but resisted the urge to walk over and position himself at her side. He had made a promise to temper his over-protective nature and he intended to keep it. Even if it killed him.
He spotted Thomas and Bella and was just about to join them when a familiar voice, on the other side of the stone pillar Alex was leaning against, caught his attention.
“My God, she is the most beautiful woman I believe I have ever seen!” Lord Melbrooke was saying to someone.
“I have only known one other as lovely,” Richard Kingston replied. “Her mother.”
Alex stopped short and took a step back. He wanted to hear what both men had to say. Melbrooke had arrived earlier that day and professed his remorseful apologies to Alexander and the Kingston’s for doubting them and their intentions to the Crown. In an attempt to keep with the peacefulness of the day, Alex had admitted him.
“You are truly a family blessed,” Melbrooke continued, but the tenor of his voice read false.
Bitterness, Alex conjectured.
His instincts had always been on high alert around The Queen’s head advisor. There was something too ambitious about the man for Alexander’s liking, something he simply did not trust.
“Indeed, we are,” Richard responded. If he had picked up on the insincere clip to Melbrooke’s sentiment, Greyland’s father surely did not covey it through his own words. “If you will excuse me, I must go and greet my daughter.”
Alex continued to hang back as Richard strolled through the crowd toward Greyland. Melbrooke headed off to the other end of the ballroom. He would need to keep an eye on that one. There was not a shred of doubt as to why Melbrooke had traveled here today and begged forgiveness for the slight he had dealt the Kingston’s. The man was simply keeping his friends close and his enemies closer.
Greyland danced the first waltz with Alex and then danced with each of her brothers and her father. Perkin danced the first Viennese waltz, so Edward demanded that another one be played that evening. He had Lord Ashlown’s younger sister to impress, Greyland surmised.
Jessica, a pretty little thing with the same moss green eyes as her older brother, seemed completely enamored with Edward. Greyland squeezed Edward’s hand as he spun her out for a final exiting turn. She was happy for him.
Now, if only Perkin could find the right girl. She scanned the crowd for her oldest brother, tapping the edge of her closed fan against her chin. She found him on the dance floor, bathed in admiring gazes from the onlooking crowd. Greyland smiled. Perkin was the epitome of regality as he twirled a blushing lady through a fast country dance.
She looked around the room for Alex next but caught the movement of a fast-moving serving girl out of the corner of her eye instead. Bobbing through the crowd with a look of controlled panic in her eyes, the girl made a beeline straight for Greyland. It was Betty from the kitchen staff. What was she doing out here? Annie would skin her alive if she caught her out of her station and in the ballroom. Greyland felt the hairs on the back of her arms lift.
Something was wrong.
Betty thrust out a letter. “Me Lady, pardon me. This just came for you. The messenger said it was a matter of life and death and that I must place it in your hands directly.” The girl wrung her hands in her apron.
Greyland took the envelope and quickly broke the seal.
Lady Greyland,
I have something of yours that I believe you will want back. She is the loveliest child I have ever seen. It is a pity she is mute. If you do care for the child as I suspect, meet me at the small hunting cabin in the woods, overlooking the ocean. Tell no one and come alone. There is a horse waiting for you by a tree just off the west wing. If you betray this request, I shall be forced to turn the child’s blonde curls to red…
Greyland tried to school her expression. She folded the paper with trembling hands and looked the serving girl squarely in the eyes. “Tell no one of this letter or that I have received anything. Understand?”
The girl’s eyes shot across the room with uncertainty. “But…me lady—”
“Not a word to anyone! Now, I relieve you of your duties for the night and request you take yourself to bed.”
“Yes, me lady.” The girl’s eyes studied the crowded floor once more as she turned and hurried out of the ballroom.
Greyland looked around herself. Bella was fast approaching with two glasses of champagne. She forced her breathing to slow and tried to smile.
“Here you are.” Bella handed her the sparkling beverage.
Greyland took the glass, but not before Bella’s keen eyes saw the tremble of her hands.
“Are you feeling all right?” Bella asked, worry replacing her mirth.
“Yes. I just remembered I left no orders for when Malikite should be released from the kennels tonight.” Greyland handed her glass to a passing server. “I will relay the message to the gamekeeper and be right back.”
“Surely I can get a servant to see to—”
“Truth be told,” Greyland said, cutting her off, “a moment of fresh air will be a Godsend.”
She patted her best friend’s hand assuredly. “I will be right back.”
Before Bella could protest or offer assistance, Greyland started moving toward the servant’s entrance.
Greyland could hear nothing but the hammering of her own heart as she ran down the long hall that connected the kitchen to the ballroom. Once inside the bustling kitchen, her eyes darted about frantically. She immediately located a knife by the stove and moved to retrieve it.
“My lady, can I get something for you?” Annie asked.
“No.” Greyland paused midstride. “I just wanted to make sure dinner was set to be served after the last waltz.”
“Why, yes. We are right on schedule. I just have to…” She glanced back toward the ice chest, remembering something, and that was all the distraction Greyland needed.
She pushed a large pot of soup off the stove. The loud crash brought half the kitchen staff racing.
“Oh no!” Annie rushed forward to aid her. “My lady, did it get on you?” The older woman’s eyes scanned her dress before bending to examine Greyland’s feet.
“I am all right,” she said, stepping away before Annie could see that indeed her ankle had been burned in the splash. “I am so sorry,” Greyland apologized over the chaos erupting around her. “It must be the champagne. I should get some air.”
Annie reluctantly turned her attention back to the overturned pot as Greyland continued to back up to the door.
Greyland glanced once more around the kitchen. Everyone was busy attending to her mess. Her eyes landed again on the knife.
She swiped it and darted out the door.
She found the horse where the note said it would be. Greyland quickly removed her gloves, wrapped them around the blade’s sharp edge, and shoved the knife into her tight bodice. Then she lifted herself into the saddle. She was blind with fear. Who could threaten a little child? Her mind slammed back to the night in the church.
Colin…
She could not think straight. All she knew was that she must save Annabelle, and if that meant walking into a trap, so be it. She was prepared to spare the child’s life at the cost to her own. At least her family would know where to look for her. If it was Colin. It had to be! Who else could be so vile?
Greyland breathed in the chilled night air and kicked the horse into a gallop. She hoped Alex would understand and that she would be around later to explain it to him.
She heard a lone howl pierce the black night, followed by a thunderclap echoing off somewhere over the ocean.
She rode low as she entered the woods.
The howl drew nearer. Her horse’s ears pricked higher and its nostrils flared with unease.
Malikite! He must have gotten out somehow.
The realization gave her courage. She spurred the horse on.
Alexander searched the ballroom for Greyland. Where had she gone? He spied Bella and made his way over to her. “Have you seen Greyland?” he asked, interrupting her conversation with the Viscount Shawson.
“She left the ballroom just a few minutes ago.”
“She left?”
Bella looked a bit taken aback by his tone. “She said she must relay a message to the gamekeeper about when to release your dog.”
Alexander’s skin prickled. “That makes no sense. I told her I had taken care of that an hour ago.” His breathing suddenly increased.
“Perhaps we should go find her?” Bella suggested, catching the urgency of the concern.
“I am going to the gamekeeper.”
Perkin joined Alexander as he stormed out of the ballroom. “What is wrong?” he asked, matching Alexander’s insistent pace.
“Greyland has left, and the excuse she gave Bella does not add up. I am going to the kennels. Where she was said to have gone.”
“The kennels? What does she need in there?”
“Nothing.”
Rain greeted them as they opened the massive double front doors.
Before they could take two steps, a stable boy raced toward them. “Your Grace, a man gave me a note to give to you.” He handed Alexander the paper.
“When?” Alex wasted no time tearing the seal.
“About a half-hour ago. He told me not to bother you during the party.” The boy looked suddenly doubtful. “He said it was of no urgent matter and to give it to you when you came outside. I have been watching the front doors ever since, your Grace.”
Alexander’s heart stopped beating. The ink had already begun to bleed from the rain, but the message was clear.
I am taking back what is mine.
McGreggor
Alex angrily thrust the paper at Perkin, who scanned it quickly and then crumpled it in his fist. “It is not him.”
“I know.” Alex turned back abruptly. “The script is my uncle’s handwriting.”
Greyland pushed the wet hair from her face as she studied the hunting cabin and its surroundings. She had tied the horse to a tree a ways back so it would not shy off when the wolf moved in. So far, Malikite had kept to the dense woods and out of sight, but she could feel his eyes on her.
Greyland tried to conjure up some of the half-breed’s courage as the rain painted tiny rivers down her cheeks. Light spilled from the cabin’s front door. She was thankful for the cover of night. The door opened wider as she advanced, and a lone figure stepped out onto the planked porch.
A woman!
“So glad you could join us,” Lady Chatsworth called out.
Greyland froze. A sick, raw fear pulsed through her blood.
“Very glad indeed, little lamb.” The masculine voice came from directly behind her.
Derrick.
Greyland shuddered as he placed a hand on her back and pushed her steadily toward the steps and a maniacal looking Lady Chatsworth.
“Where is she?” Greyland demanded.
“Why, the little brat is right here.” Lady Chatsworth moved to the side to reveal Annabelle, shivering with fright.
Greyland bolted for the child.
Lady Chatsworth quickly pushed Annabelle back and threw all her weight into Greyland as she charged up the cabin steps. Annabelle screamed. Greyland, unable to avoid the shove, collided with the railing but caught herself before she could topple over the edge. She whirled on the older woman, rage replacing her previous fear.
Greyland took one solid step forward, and doing just as her brothers had taught her, drew back her fist and punched Lady Chatsworth right in the nose.
The blonde reeled backward, her arms flailing wildly as she tried in vain to prevent her fall. She bounced down the remaining steps and landed on her ass at the bottom. Her hand flew to her bloody nose and she gasp, glaring at Greyland from where she lay sprawled. Unfortunately, she did not stay down long.
The older woman trudged to her feet and charged.
Derrick grabbed her, effectively halting her attack. “Ladies, ladies…this is most improper.”
“I will see you hanged!” Greyland spat.
The mirth in Derrick’s eyes chilled at once. “Better watch that tone in the presence of children.” He marched slowly up the stairs.
Greyland stepped in front of Annabelle.
Derrick stopped one step below where Greyland stood. They were eye to eye. He leaned in. “I will deal with that mouth later when we are alone.”
Be it the cold seeping into her bones from the soaking rain or the actual threat, Greyland visibly shivered. Derrick caught the reaction, like a spider pleased with a snared fly, and grinned. Capitalizing on his power, he made a deliberate show of looking over her wet clothing before licking his lips.
“I do not see what Alexander sees in her. She is so plain,” Lady Chatsworth said smugly, still wiping the blood as it dripped from her swelling nose. “After a night with me, Alexander will completely forget about her.”
“Is that what this is all about?” Greyland hissed.
“Why, yes,” Derrick replied.
Greyland reached behind her back for a sobbing Annabelle. The little girl pressed herself into the back of Greyland’s skirts, trying to hide.
“This way, both Lady Chatsworth and I get what we want. She gets my nephew and his title. And I get you.”
He paused to enjoy her discomfort. “See, Alexander has always gotten everything, and now it is my turn to make him miserable. I can think of no better way than taking from him what he wants most in this world.”
Greyland felt her stomach roll over. “He will come for me. He will find me, and he will kill you!”
Derrick smiled. “Ah, yes…about that. He is going to believe you died. You see, Lady Chatsworth is going to proclaim that she was on her way to plead her innocence at Greenshire Castle when, through the driving rain, she saw a small child being thrown into the raging river by murderous looking mercenaries wearing the McGreggor crest. She will then say her cowardly footman jumped from her carriage and fled into the woods when one of the men started their way. From there she will go on and on, in dramatic female fashion, about how terrified she was.”
He rolled his wrist. “She will end this heart-wrenching tale by saying she was able to escape, only because of a sudden commotion back at the water’s edge. The McGreggor thug turned back to see what it was just as, to her greatest shock, you burst from the bushes. I am sure you can guess what happened next. You threw yourself into the water after the child and Lady Chatsworth ran as fast as she could to the castle for help.” Derrick canted his head to one side. “Are you keeping up with all this, little lamb?”
He did not give her a chance to reply, not that she could. “They will all mourn you and the orphan, giving me time to take you to France and make you my wife. We will return in a few years, and by that time Alexander will have married Lady Chatsworth, and you will belong to me.” Derrick laughed cruelly. “It is brilliant, you see. I will have broken his heart twice: once when he learns your fate, dying the same way his mother did—you know he still blames himself for that—and then again when he sees you on my arm.”
Greyland looked from Derrick to Lady Chatsworth. The woman grinned savagely. Apparently, killing a child to secure a title was no problem at all for her. She had definitely lost her mind.
Greyland searched Derrick’s eyes next and saw something different. He had been planning this for a long time. He was not crazy; he was ruthless and wicked.
She had to play this just right.
Why had he divulged his plan to her? Did he really think she would willingly leave Alex, kidnapped or not, and agree to marry him? Did he plan on locking her away so she would not escape? There had to be more. Derrick knew Alex would not accept Lady Chatsworth as a replacement. No, he was leading the crazy woman in the only direction she wanted to go. But he had other plans, besides just wounding Alexander. Greyland was sure Derrick planned to kill him!
She winced as the reality of it all punched her right in the solar plexus. She fought back the desire to retrieve her knife and stab Derrick through the heart. He would be on her before she could even get to it. Greyland had to think fast.
Lady Chatsworth was muttering something now as Greyland’s mind raced. Annabelle squeezed tighter to the back of her legs.
“Give me the damn brat!” Lady Chatsworth moved directly in front of her.
Greyland stepped back, taking Annabelle with her. “You will have to kill me first!”
“That is a lovely idea.”
“Now, now.” Derrick stepped between the two women. “Let me deal with her.” He looked from Greyland to Lady Chatsworth. “I promise to give her a good thrashing.” Derrick fixated his perverse stare on Greyland again. “Do you really want the child to watch you die?” He smirked. “I think not.”
He turned, snatched Lady Chatsworth forcibly by the elbow, and dragged her off the porch. “I will give you a minute to say your goodbyes to the child.”
Greyland bent down and spoke quickly and quietly to the whimpering little girl. “When you get to the carriage, scream, hit, punch and then run to the castle and get help.” She saw the terror in the child’s eyes. “Malikite will protect you. He is waiting in the woods. Do not look back—just run.”
Greyland knew she was right. The dog had grown loyal to the little girl in the last week. He had stayed glued to her side like a shadow all around the castle grounds. He would protect her just as he had protected Greyland in the church.
“Time is up!” Derrick said, yanking Greyland to her feet unexpectedly and pushing Annabelle down the steps. Thankfully the five-year-old managed to stay on her feet through her rough descent.
Lady Chatsworth grabbed hold of the teetering child and started dragging her away. Greyland felt hot tears rolling down her cheeks. She angrily swiped them away before the little girl could see. Annabelle looked back pleadingly with her eyes. Greyland gave her a firm nod.
Derrick stepped in front of Greyland, cutting off her view of the outside world, and pushed her through the cabin’s front door.
Something shifted in Derrick’s eyes the moment the door slammed shut behind him. He stalked toward Greyland. She stepped back, but not fast enough.
Derrick caught her wrist and pulled her to him. “Now to see what all the fuss is about.” He forced her around and started undoing the buttons at the back of her dress. Beads of sweat broke out on her forehead and her palms grew damp with fear. She had to be strong—at least long enough for Annabelle to get farther away.
“Why do you need to kill him?” She needed to keep Derrick talking.
He stilled at his task. “How very perceptive you are.” Greyland felt the heat from his breath on her neck when he leaned in. “I want to be a duke, of course.”
Greyland shuddered when something wet and warm licked up the back of her neck. “I do not want to talk about Alexander now, though.” He ripped her dress open.
She gasped and jumped away, using her arms to clutch the torn material to her breasts. It was a natural instinct, and one she hoped would conceal the knife she had just caught with her left hand as the dress had begun to fall.
Derrick’s smile was poisonous as he raked her in with his eyes. “I will tell you only once to do as I say. Now, come here and give me my reward!”
Greyland brandished the weapon just as he advanced. He froze in his tracks and laughed. “Really? A kitchen knife? That is almost cute, but I will not afford you even the one mistake. Now you must be punished!”
He took one more step toward her. She swung the blade and connected with his arm. He cursed. Before she had time to brace herself he backhanded her so hard her vision went fuzzy and she crashed into a side table.
He was on her then, throwing her to the bed. She scrambled for the other side on her hands and knees but he jumped on her, pinning her down. All the air left her lungs as his weight crushed her face into the mattress.
He flipped her under him and held her hands above her head. “Tisk, tisk. Now, you have forced me to be the bad man.”
She spat into his face, earning herself another hard smack to the cheek. This time she tasted blood.
“Bitch! Time to see what all the men in London have been killing themselves over. I wonder if you taste as good as you look?” He reached down and bit her nipple hard. She screamed and bucked beneath him.
“That is the spirit, little lamb. I love it when they put up a fight.” Derrick restrained both her hands in one of his while his free hand yanked up her skirts. She was no match for him—he was just too strong.
A wave of panic raged through her veins and she fought with all her might. Derrick smiled at her futile attempts while he fumbled with his trouser buttons. Greyland closed her eyes and felt tears burn her cheeks as she prepared her body for his invasion.
Just as he freed himself from his pants, a woman’s ear-piercing scream from outside shot through the night. Blood-curdling snarls followed. Derrick’s head jerked to the door.
After what seemed like a lifetime, he slowly turned his face back to Greyland. “When we resume this,” he hissed, pushing up and off her, “I will not be nearly as gentle!”
Alexander heard the death cry pierce through the storm as lightning split the sky. Perkin spun his mount to face him. “It came from over there.” The eldest Kingston’s intense eyes narrowed in on the woods that lined the cliffs.
Alexander did not answer. Instead, he brought Socrates around in a tight circle and bolted in the direction of the old hunting cabin. Henry and Perkin followed. The rain angrily bit into Alexander’s face, but he only felt a sick fear drumming inside his head. Someone had just been killed! By the sound of it, a woman, and she had perished in a most gruesome way.
They were no more than twenty meters from the tree line when a small child burst from the underbrush. She was looking over her shoulder and did not see the three riders approaching. Nor could she hear them over the pelting rain.
The three men had to draw their reins up tight to stop the child from being trampled. She whipped her blonde head around and cried out as she toppled backward. Socrates reared in protest.
Alexander was off the stallion before the beast could put all four hooves in contact with the ground again. He dropped to his knees in the mud and scooped Annabelle into his arms. “Hush, hush…I am here.”
She looked into his eyes and then began to wail against his chest.
“Where is Greyland?” He had to almost yell now to be heard through the driving wind and rain.
She pointed a shaky little finger in the direction from which she had come. “Bad man!”
Alexander’s brain barely registered that the child had just spoken for the first time since she had come to live at his estate.
Henry was beside him now, prying the child from Alexander’s arms and lifting her up into his own. “Go!”
Alex wasted no time. He swung back onto Socrates and kicked him into a gallop. He heard Perkin just a pace behind him, pushing his steed to match Socrates’ gate. Alex had no idea what they would find. He had heard the cry—they all had—and it brokered no debate for whether the victim had lived.
Derrick jerked Greyland from the bed and hauled her to the cabin door. She dug her heels in and clawed at him with her free hand. He slammed her into the wall so hard she nearly lost consciousness.
“Stop fighting or I will kill you!” he grabbed hold of her jaw with one hand, his fingers digging punishingly into her cheeks, and forced her face up to meet his eyes. “Understand?”
His face was a blur, but the meaning hit its mark. He released her and she fell forward, her body giving out, against him. He hoisted her up and tossed her over his shoulder with a curse and marched out into the storm.
The muddy earth and Derrick’s backside was all Greyland could see until she was thrust over the back of a horse, face down like a sack of flour. She did not recall seeing the animal when she arrived so it must have been tied out back.
“Sit up!” He barked.
Greyland gathered enough of her muddled wits to realize her dress had slipped the rest of the way down and was now around her ankles. She managed enough strength to kick it all the way off and hoisted herself up to sit astride the saddle. Her thin, rain-soaked shift was now the only thing she had left. Derrick snatched the reins free from a post and climbed up behind her, kicking the horse into action.
It was freezing now and her body ached with every jostling stride the steed took. She forced her mind from its pain-filled haze by sheer will, enough to notice that Derrick was taking the road that would pass over the river. It might be her only saving grace.
Alexander and Perkin were almost to the cabin when Malikite sprang from a low ridge. Socrates calmed immediately, but Perkin was not so lucky and was thrown from his mount. The dog lunged for the blond man, but Alex shouted a halting command.
The half-breed stopped as recognition seemingly set in. Perkin scrambled to his feet, breathing hard. Something caught his eye and he went deathly still.
“What is it?” Alex’s voice trailed off as his eyes followed the trajectory of Perkin’s stare.
Socrates was prancing nervously now that he had caught the scent. Fresh blood. Alex forced his unwilling eyes to look at the carnage beneath the tree.
“It’s not her!” Instant relief flooded over him. The woman had blonde hair. “It is Lady Chatsworth.”
Perkin regained control of his horse but eyed Malikite with trepidation as he slowly moved both him and his steed away from the wolf and its kill.
“Malikite was protecting Annabelle,” Alex stated as realization set in. “That means Greyland is still out there somewhere.” He looked around wildly. “Derrick still has her.”
Perkin swung back into his saddle. “Then let us go get the bastard.”
Greyland’s head was on fire, but she pushed beyond the pain to formulate a plan. Through the blurred vision of the rain and blood, she could now make out the bridge. A flutter of hope sailed through her mind. If she flung herself into the water, she might stand a chance of out-swimming him.
As the bridge came into focus, her heart dropped. The past two days of storms had caused the river to swell over its banks. There was no way she could survive in that. She was just about to give up hope when she saw, out of her peripheral, a lone rider advancing. She squinted her eyes trying to focus. A black steed.
Edward!
Derrick must have seen him too for he spurred his mount faster, but the beast seemed to be going lame. Greyland held on a little tighter to the saddle, wrapping her fingers beneath its pommel, as they galloped onto the bridge. The last thing she wanted now was to fall into the flooded river and be swallowed up. Alex could not lose the only two women he had ever loved to the same waters.
Suddenly, Derrick yanked back hard on the reins and Greyland went lurching forward. He snatched her back before she was sent careening over the horses withers. He whirled the winded steed around to face Edward and drew his pistol, aiming it dead-center at her brother’s chest.
Greyland heard herself scream just as two more riders came out of the woods.
Derrick turned the gun and pressed it to Greyland’s temple. Edward, who had made no sign of stopping when the pistol had been trained on him, now halted abruptly. For a long moment, no one said anything. Alexander ground his teeth, noticing that the fiend had rid her of her dress.
Derrick seemed to read Alex’s thoughts. A smile took hold of his face as he spoke. “I will make a trade…her life for yours, dear nephew.”
“Done!” Alexander said and jumped down from his horse.
“Well, come and get her.” Derrick’s smile widened as he slipped off his saddle, dragging Greyland forcefully with him.
“No!” she screamed, but Alex continued with steady, purposeful strides.
Alexander felt the power of the river raging underneath the bridge as he made his way onto it. A million sleepless nights thundered through his head, like demons ascending from hell. He was now close enough to see that Greyland’s lips were swollen and bloody and there was a cruel gash on her brow.
“Release her!” He growled.
Derrick’s hooded eyes danced with mirth. “Gladly, dear nephew.”
Before Alex could draw his next breath, Derrick shoved Greyland over the railing and into the deadly waters.
A gunshot exploded into the night.
Alex thought for a moment that he felt fire festering deep into his arm, but the chill of the river dissolved the pain.
The current was like a living, breathing monster attempting to consume her. Just as she thought she might break the surface, the relentless beast would again pull her back down into its murky depths.
Large objects were slamming into her body, adding to the water’s madness. The debris caught up in her shift and clawed down her body. Bony fingers dragging her down to hell. Greyland swam with all she had, fighting immeasurable odds.
All of a sudden, she broke free. She gulped a frantic breath of air before she was yanked back under, into the swirling darkness. She felt the freezing water forcing its way into her lungs.
Alexander...
Panic wracked her body as the cold wrapped her in its deadly embrace. She could not move. Her mind watched in horror as her limbs grew numb and gave up. The dark smothered out all light. All hope.
Alex...
Alexander fought with everything he had. He fought with his anger, he fought with his body, and he fought with his heart. Then he saw her head pop up out of the vicious current. Hope propelled him on and he swam hard to reach her. Like he had done a million times in his dreams.
But unlike those haunting dreams, one factor had changed. He was no longer a child; this time he had strength on his side.
Alex dove down. He could not see her, but he connected something threadlike and soft…hair! He swam deeper until he was able to grab her arm and pull her to him.
When he broke the surface, he saw a man’s figure racing along the shore. Perkin! He just had to get Greyland closer. A tree limb crashed into his ribs and a crack of bone sounded within his chest. Just one more push.
He felt someone grasp his shoulders and haul them both out.
Greyland lay lifeless as Perkin began his attempts to resuscitate her on the muddy riverbank. Alexander held her hands and pleaded with her. All he heard was the deep, desperate drumming of his heart and the river roaring for its robbed sacrifice. She was cold. Deadly cold.
He screamed at her to wake up.
Perkin pounded on her tiny chest.
Someone tried to pull him back.
Alex struck out, sending whomever it was falling backward.
She coughed.
The life-giving sound was music to Alexander’s ears. She coughed again and water sputtered from the corners of her mouth. Perkin rolled her to her side and a wave of river water poured out of her lungs.
Alex felt hot tears streaming down his face, mixing with the freezing rain as he dragged her tiny body into his arms. Someone was shouting from behind them now. Greyland began to convulse. Alex hauled her body closer to his own, squeezing her to his chest for warmth.
“We have to get back inside, quickly,” Perkin said. He stared hard at Alex. “I need to take her from you.” Alex felt his head shake out no, but he knew Perkin was right.
“My body is warmer,” Perkin said. He swept her up and out of Alexander’s arms.
Alex did not remember the ride home. He did not remember the looks of horror on the ladies' faces as he ran headlong into the castle’s front door and up the stairs. His brain could not recall anything except the moment Derrick shoved Greyland off the bridge. Her body being snatched up and carried under by the violent and ravenous currents of the anger river.
The image replayed over and over in his weary mind as he stared at her now. Three maids were working tirelessly in a flurry of activity. They had wrapped Greyland’s body in hot blankets and were now placing smoking bricks between the goose-down comforter and mattress of the bed.
Perkin worriedly paced the floor, an ashen pallor to his face.
Alex looked pleadingly at the doctor who had been dragged from the village. “If we can get her temperature up, we have a chance,” the man said. “Your Grace, you are bleeding.” He motioned a serving woman to tend to Alex.
Alex waved her off when she rushed to his side.
“I believe she will want you alive when she wakes up, Your Grace,” he added.
The physician's logical reasoning took shape. Alex relented and drew up a chair beside Greyland’s bed so the woman could work on cleansing his arm. He did not feel a thing. He realized he would never feel anything ever again if Greyland did not pull through this. He would die along with her.
He heard the maid attending him gasp. “He has been shot!”
The doctor came over and took her place, investigating his arm. Alex did not look. He did not inquire. Did not utter a sound. He kept his eyes fixated on his sleeping beauty. If she would just open those luminous green pools and meet his gaze once more. She looked so frail…so far away from the room. Alex encased her hand in his and bent his head in silent prayer as the doctor took a needle and thread to his wound.
“You are lucky it went clean through,” he said.
A serving boy burst into the room a second later. “You must come quickly. Mr. Kingston is in need.”
Perkin and Alexander’s sights crashed into one another.
“Take care of her,” Perkin ordered before bolting from the room.
Alexander’s head spun with a sudden realization. Edward… He had last seen him on the bridge, just before Alex dove into the river after Greyland. Had he taken on Derrick single-handedly?
The strong smell of the ointment permeated Alex’s nostrils as the doctor interrupted his thoughts. “I must attend to Mr. Kingston now. I will be back in when I am done with his wounds.”
The doctor’s words wedged their way into Alexander’s mind and his head snapped up. “Go quickly!” Alex commanded.
The doctor hastily quit the room. The three maids followed, leaving Alex alone with Greyland. He buried his face in her arm and let the tears build until they ran freely from his tortured eyes. “I am so sorry. This is my fault. Please do not leave me.”
Alex knew the moment the door creaked open that Richard had arrived. The pain emanating from Greyland’s father matched his own. It filled the room. Alex turned his face to the other man.
“I have someone who I believe can help.” Richard glanced down. Alex followed the older man’s eyes. Malikite was standing beside him. “His body temperature is much higher than ours. It should elevate hers. If you lie on one side of her and Malikite lies on the other, I think the effect will double.”
Alex wasted no time calling the animal up and onto the bed. Malikite seemed to acknowledge his new role as nursemaid and snuggled up close to Greyland.
“How is Edward?”
Richards’s solemn expression said everything Alexander needed to know, “He is in grave danger. If they cannot stop the bleeding…” His voice crumbled into a barely audible murmur. “Pray for both my children.”
Alex nodded wordlessly. The two men regarded each other for a long moment before Alex spoke. “Is Derrick…?”
“He is dead,” Richard said. Then turned and closed the door behind him.
Suffocating hands gripped her throat. She tried to scream but could not. Her hands clawed at the unknown assailant. She felt her ribs being crushed as she broke the surface of the water. Her vision blurred around the edges. All she could make out, through the fog that enveloped her, was a dim golden hue burning faintly like a candle on the far side of a vast and dark room.
Then she felt something wet touch her hand.
Greyland forced her mind to focus on the warm golden light, letting it cast off the tunnel of black surrounding her. Shapes began to emerge out of the haze. Specifically, a wolf’s shape.
Malikite.
He was staring her right in the eyes with those piercing yellow orbs of his. Her candle in the dark.
Greyland forced her mind further from its dreamlike state. She was in her room. Malikite was in her bed with her.
A sudden and sharp pain shot through her sides. She winced. What was the squeezing sensation? She looked down and found large arms wrapped around her tightly.
Alex?
Before she could roll over to confirm, a pleading moan reverberated out from behind her.
She pushed out of the vise-like hold and turned to find him locked in what appeared to be his own strangling nightmare.
“Alex! wake up!” She shook him until his eyes flew open.
He lunged for her, drawing her to his chest, one arm around her waist and one cradling her head. “Thank God!”
She tried to look into his eyes, but his hand held her head firmly against his body. As if he were afraid to let her go. Greyland could feel the wild tempo of his heart hammering against her ear. She began to weep silently for his obvious pain.
He pulled back, just enough, so that he could stare into her eyes, worriedly. “Do not cry, darling. Everything is good now. You are safe. Annabelle’s safe. Edward’s safe. And Derrick is dead,” he rushed to console her.
Greyland’s mind scrambled to keep up. She searched his eyes. “Where are they? What happened to Edward?”
“Annabelle is sleeping down the hall, with Annie hovering over her like a hawk. Edward is recovering from his wounds. He killed Derrick. However, during that fight he was stabbed, but the doctor was able to stop the bleeding. He has already asked for a comely nursemaid to attend to his every need.” Alex grinned slowly, as if the muscles of his cheeks were trying to remember how to shape the simple action. “If that does not tell you he will be just fine, I do not know what will.”
Greyland laughed, and then grimaced when her body protested the action. Alex’s smile vanished as he considered her battered face more closely. He softly traced his finger up the outline of her jaw, stopping when he reached her cheekbone. “Greyland, Derrick did not—”
“No, he was about to, but my plan with your dog prevented him the chance.” Greyland reached around behind her and patted Malikite’s head. “I knew this good boy would protect Annabelle. She did as I instructed and screamed when Lady Chatsworth took her out of the cabin. They had planned on killing her and staging my death so that Derrick could steal me away and marry me before returning to kill you. Of course, he kept that last part from his accomplice, and she believed she could have you once you accepted my fate.”
Alex did not speak for several heartbeats. “I am so sorry I did not reach you sooner.” His brows drew together tightly and a muscle in his jaw twitched.
“Oh, Alex, do not blame yourself. I got an anonymous note saying that whoever had Annabelle would kill her if I did not come alone.”
Greyland reached up and cupped Alex’s jaw in an effort to soothe the tension residing there. “I am just sorry I walked into his trap. I really thought it was Colin and that you would know where to find me. I could not let anything hurt her. You must understand.” Her voice wavered, on the verge of a new set of tears.
She was stunned to see his blue eyes grow glassy. “I thought I had lost you. When he shoved you into the river…my world stopped.”
She moved up and kissed his jaw, his lips, and his eyelids, tasting the salt. “You saved me.” Her voice shook as she moved back to look into his eyes. “Your mother would be proud.”
“Greyland.” He said softly, her name coming out scarcely louder than a whisper. “You are my everything.”
Greyland took a deep breath before the words rushed out. “Will you please get the blasted Vicar in this room right now? We can give everyone the big production in a week.”
Alex regarded her for a moment. “Are you certain? The gossip hounds will run amok.”
She smiled and pressed her lips against his. “Alex, I want you to do a quick review of everything that has transpired in the past six weeks and tell me if you honestly think I care.”
He tilted his head and flashed her that wicked, scandalous smile. “You are absolutely right.”
He jumped up from the bed, with seemingly no effort at all, and pulled on the bell-rope. Greyland’s eyes landed on the bandage wrapped around his arm. “Alex, your arm!”
Alex smiled as he donned a shirt. “Tis merely a flesh wound.” He leaned over the bed and kissed her forehead. “One I would take ten times over for you.”
Samson arrived mere seconds later when Alex had just finished pulling on his trousers.
“Ah, Samson, I have need of Vicar Thomson.” He glanced over his shoulder at Greyland. “Please tell Richard, Perkin, Thomas, Bella, and Henry to meet us in Edward’s room when he arrives. And please give my regards to the rest of the guests and send them home. I am sure they will understand.”
“Yes, your Grace. Most have already departed,” Samson said before giving Greyland his full attention. “How are you feeling, my lady?”
“Much better. Thank you.” Greyland smiled.
“Have a feast prepared for our remaining family and friends. Spare no expense.” Alex continued, clearly glad to have a task at hand that did not involve watching Greyland cling perilously to life.
“Yes, your Grace. Anything else?”
“That will be all.”
When the door closed, Alex sat back down on the bed. “Within an hour, you will be a duchess. Is it acceptable that we wed in your brother’s chambers? He cannot move from the bed for at least a week. Doctor’s orders. And I daresay, I would not want to face him later if he finds out we did not include him.” He reached out and ran a lazy finger down the bridge of her nose.
“I think that is a wonderful plan.” Greyland agreed. “Just us and our closest friends and family. That is all I ever desired anyway.”
She pushed up to a seated position. Alex reached out and dragged her gingerly into his embrace. He cupped the back of her head gently with his hand and rested his chin atop her hair. After a long moment, he breathed out a sigh that spoke volumes. They had been through so much, and yet, they still fit together perfectly. With Greyland tucked into his protective embrace. Two pieces of a puzzle that made up a whole.
Greyland felt her cheeks lift into a content smile. She could stay this way forever, snuggled against his chest, intoxicated by his amazing scent and shielded by his indomitable strength. Her Dark Duke. The most stubborn, handsome, romantic, caring man she had ever met. The man she had bared her soul to and the man that had likewise, turned his life upside down to accommodate her. The man that would be the father of her children. The man that would give her Christmas trees…and stillness.
Greyland looked up into his penetrating blue eyes. “Do you still believe all of this was destiny?”
Alex lowered his head, his mouth hovering just above her lips before whispering, “I believe it more this day than ever before.” He kissed her slowly, as soft as the beating wings of a butterfly.
He pulled back slightly, his thumb replacing his lips to caress the seam out her mouth. “My life was created with one purpose, Greyland. To find you. My destiny.”