by Sahara Kelly
The man holding her adjusted his position and she became aware of a sharp something digging in to her side. She wanted to gasp, but he shook her. “I’ve a knife next to your heart, dear Countess. Move, scream, struggle…it’ll slide in like you were butter.”
She trembled, but managed a nod.
She had recognised the voice.
He moved his hand from her mouth and she took a breath, fighting for control of her fears. Slowly she turned her head.
“I always knew you were a loathsome pig, Ernest. You’ve just demonstrated how accurate I was in my assumption.” She glared furiously into the face of the Earl of Kilham.
Then opened her mouth and screamed at the top of her lungs, ignoring the angry and violent gaze of the man holding the knife to her side.
And ignoring the savage pain as he thrust it into her body.
Chapter Thirty-Three
The sound of Gwyneth’s scream echoed through Wolfbridge Manor, thanks to all the windows Jeremy had opened just moments before.
Feet pounded, and within seconds Jeremy and Gabriel ran out onto the grass, closely followed by Evan, Royce and Giles.
“Where is she?”
“I left her here…” Gabriel looked helplessly around. “I went to fetch her bonnet…”
“Shit,” cursed Royce. “Someone has her.”
Giles shushed them. “Quiet.”
His order was instantly obeyed and silence fell, broken only by birdsong. And a slight moan…
Giles glanced at Royce and pointed to the rhododendrons.
Royce nodded and motioned to Jeremy and Gabriel to go as far as they could down the bank of shrubs. Then he pointed at Giles and Gabriel, waving his hand in the other direction.
They understood and began to circle the bushes.
Slowly, and as silently as possible, Giles let Royce lead them across the grass, pausing at his command, letting him look around the leaves with each step.
Finally, he held up his hand sharply, turned and put a finger to his mouth.
They nodded as he beckoned Giles.
“You should do this,” whispered Royce.
Agreeing, Giles walked around, back straight, eyes glued to the pair lurking almost inside the rhododendron. “Gwyneth. Are you all right?”
She was white, so very pale, her face reminding him of when he’d first set eyes on her. All she could do was shake her head a little, her eyes wide with fear.
Since the man behind her held a bloody knife to her throat, Giles wasn’t surprised. What did send a river of horror through him was the blood stain he could see on her side.
“Who are you?” he asked the man. “Why are you hurting the Lady of Wolfbridge?”
“Go ahead, bitch. Introduce us.” He tightened his arm around her.
“Ernest,” she murmured, her voice faint, “this is Giles, the Wolfbridge butler. Giles, this is the Earl of Kilham, my stepson Ernest.”
“Really.” Giles managed to look surprised. “Welcome to Wolfbridge, my Lord. You could have visited in the usual fashion, you know. A knife is hardly necessary, nor is it becoming for an Earl to behave thus.”
“No other way,” the man replied. “I’ve come to collect what is mine. This…this whore stole everything from me.”
Gwyneth frowned and shook her head, gasping at the move as the knife bit into her skin and a trickle of blood ran down her neck.
“Yes you did,” said the Earl. “You know you did. You were supposed to die, to vanish, to starve to death and you deserved no better.”
“Forgive me, my Lord, but did you not inherit the entire estate when your father passed away? At least that is my understanding. Lady Gwyneth was not even left a stipend.”
Kilham’s lip curled derisively. “That’s what we all thought. But she…” he tightened his arm around her making her catch her breath, “…she knew the truth.”
“What truth is that, my Lord?” Giles kept his voice even and his words courteous. Nothing to be gained by making the man madder than he already was.
“That my idiot father made a second will.”
“What?” Gwyneth’s astonishment was plain, but Kilham would have none of it.
“You knew. Don’t try to lie. You made him do it. You made him leave control of everything to you. You bitch…”
Kilham drew the knife back, slicing her throat once again, and this time seizing her hair, making her arch back and reveal even more of her neck.
It was at that moment when Giles realised Royce had joined Jeremy and Evan. All three were approaching from behind Kilham.
And he didn’t know they were there. The bushes hid them, and the grass beneath their feet deadened their footfalls.
“My lord,” Giles called out, hoping to keep the man’s attention focused on himself. “This is not necessary. Can we not talk about this? I cannot believe my Lady would wish to keep you from your rightful inheritance.”
“Oh you’re mistaken. Of course she would. She made him change his will. She always hated me. She forced me out of the house, turned my father against me…there’s nothing she wouldn’t do to spite me.”
Royce was near now, very near.
“Can you not let her speak?” pleaded Giles. “Let’s hear her endorse your statements. Let her tell us what happened…let her tell you why it happened…” He wrung his hands. “Please, my Lord. Don’t hurt her until you know the truth…” He poured fear and pleading into his voice, a dramatic turn that he prayed would convince Kilham to keep looking at him.
He ignored the terror in Gwyneth’s eyes; he could not risk losing Kilham’s attention. Royce was too close.
“Come, my Lord. Help me understand. That way perhaps we can solve this together like gentlemen. You have a long and proud heritage…don’t give it all up for a mistake…”
“She’ll fill you full of lies, the way she did my father. She lied to him. She took lovers. I know she did. She betrayed him. Moved into his life, made him marry her and then betrayed him. And took everything away from me…”
The words ended on an angry shout, and Royce chose that moment to intervene.
“Excuse me.” He tapped on the Earl’s shoulder.
Kilham jumped at least a foot in the air, barely missed nicking Gwyneth’s chin and turned to meet a fierce right hook that knocked him clean off his feet.
Gwyneth stumbled away and fell into Giles’s arms while Royce, Jeremy and Evan disarmed the Earl and tied his hands together behind him. They were not particularly gentle about it.
The man sobbed and screamed and rambled, his words becoming unintelligible as his fury overtook his senses.
“Get him out of here. Put him in the barn. I’ll send for the Constable…” Royce directed Jeremy and Evan.
Gwyneth was clinging to Giles, but barely.
“Gabriel…” Giles did his best not to panic. “Help me.”
Her gown was sodden now, as was the skin of her chest and her bodice. The little cuts on her throat weren’t bleeding anymore, but he had no idea how deeply that knife had plunged into her body.
Gabriel lifted her easily, cradling her in his arms.
“I’m all right,” she said, her face still far too pale. “Just a wee nick…” She promptly fainted.
“Royce.”
The man came running at Giles’s yell, having seen their prisoner on his way to the barn. “Kilham’s restrained. He won’t hurt anyone again, ever, if I have my way.”
“You can’t kill him,” Giles said, grabbing him by the arm and hurrying him along behind Gabriel. “I need you to take care of her right now.”
“Can I kill him after that?”
“We’ll see.”
*~~*~~*
“’Tis a clean wound.”
A gentle voice was speaking through a fog. She forced her eyes open to see Royce and Gabriel bending over her, their faces filled with concern.
“If it’s so clean why are you both looking so worried?”
Their gazes shot up to her face and
she tried to give them a smile. “Well?”
“It is going to leave a scar,” murmured Royce, his hands gentle as he touched a very sore place on her side.
“Well, I doubt too many people are going to see it. Unless you’re all going to loathe the very sight of me without my clothes on…”
Her attempt at humour failed, since the two faces bending over her didn’t respond with the grins she’d hoped for.
At a loss, she breathed out. And burst into tears, wincing as her sobs pulled at a spot on her side..
“Oh sweetheart,” Gabriel gathered her close, clearly trying not to hurt her. “Everything’s all right now, love. You’re safe, you’re in one piece, with just a few little cuts…it’s over, Gwyneth. Can you hear me, darling? It’s all over. We’ve taken the bad man away…”
Gwyneth found herself snorting out a laugh amidst her tears. “I’m not five, Gabriel.”
He kissed away her tears. “Oh believe me, sweet lady. I know.” His lips returned to hers, light touches that soothed away her outburst.
“I’m sorry. I don’t quite know what made me do that. I don’t like to cry.” She wiped her eyes on the back of her hand.
“It could have something to do with the fact you had a knife at your throat and a nasty stab wound in your side.” Gabriel tried to look stern. “Five minutes. I leave you for five minutes and I come back to find you in the arms of someone else. I was…I am distraught. Overset. I could say almost shattered.” He looked up at Royce, a begging expression writ large over his handsome face, sucking in a big breath. “Royce. Hold me.”
Royce rolled his eyes. “No.”
Her tears eased and she chuckled, trying not to move too much. “Seriously, gentlemen. How bad is it?”
Gabriel wiped her eyes with his handkerchief as Royce sat on the other side of the bed. “The cuts to your neck are trivial. No more than a man regularly gets while he’s shaving.”
“Only if he’s clumsy,” inserted Gabriel, running his fingers idly over the pristine skin of his chin.
Royce ignored him. “The one in your side, however…well, that could have been nasty. But your guardian angel must have been watching over you, since it went in clean and came out clean. It missed anything important, as far as I can tell.”
“I’m sore,” she commented, exploring her body. “But everything seems to be working.”
“No reason it shouldn’t.” Royce nodded, satisfied. “But you will wear a bandage for a while, and you must be careful not to reopen the wound. I’ll keep an eye on it to make sure there’s no infection, but the one thing in Kilham’s favour is that he seems to prefer his weapons clean. There was no rust on that blade at all.” He shook his head. “Bayonet wounds were not dissimilar, but a dirty blade did more damage than the cuts themselves sometimes.”
“I know war is hateful, but I cannot but be thankful for the skills you learned, Royce.” She put her hand on his. “Thank you. And thank you for rescuing me.”
“Hey.” Gabriel tapped her gently on her shoulder. “We were all there, you know. Giles kept him talking so that Jeremy and Evan and Royce could creep up behind him.”
“I remember hoping it was something like that. Because all I could hear was Giles being so…so…Giles, and all I could see…” she turned to him. “Was you, Gabriel, just behind him, staring at me.”
“Ohhh,” Gabriel’s beautiful green eyes filled with tears. “Don’t, Gwyneth. You’ll make me cry too.”
“And I believe I’m finished here,” Royce sighed and got off the bed. “No more moving around for a couple of hours at least. I know you’ll want to come downstairs at some point, so I’m going to ask you to rest, stay put and we’ll see how you do later on this afternoon.”
“All right,” she nodded. “I’ll be a good patient, Royce. I promise.”
“You’d better be, or there will be trouble.” He leaned over with a grin and flicked the tip of her nose. Then he left her with Gabriel.
“He didn’t kiss me. I wonder why.” Her thoughts rambled a little. She’d been expecting his lips on hers, and his face had held all the affection she’d become used to.
“Oh well, never mind.” She settled back as comfortably as she could. “Will you stay a little while, Gabriel?”
“If you’d like,” he said. “But you should sleep.”
“Kiss me first,” she demanded. “I could have been killed. Someone needs to damn well kiss me, just so that I’m reminded that I’m still alive.”
“Let’s see if we can do that…”
He leaned over, gently moving closer, doing everything he could to avoid irritating her wound. She turned her head to meet him, her eyes drifting to his lips, those ripely beautiful lips that would have made a woman weep with envy, but on Gabriel looked like total perfection.
He barely touched her, just a light butterfly kiss, but it was enough to relax her in some places and tighten others.
“Mmm.” She murmured her pleasure, then opened her mouth and touched him with her tongue.
Understanding the invitation, Gabriel parted his lips and sucked her in, duelling with her, sharing his taste with her, loving her with just those small parts of his body.
It was enough. And yet not enough. The murmur became a moan, and Gabriel drew back. “I think that has to be adequate for now, sweet one. Although there’s no such thing as enough for me where you’re concerned.”
Green eyes shone with love, and Gwyneth looked into them, seeing the measure of his affection clearly on display. She ran her fingers through his silky strands of hair. “I love you too, Gabriel.”
He settled next to her, as close as he dared, his arms around places that posed no danger to any injuries. “Sleep now. All will be well.”
She believed him. And slept.
For once, she woke to find him still there, sound asleep next to her. The light in the window had changed, and she judged it to be mid-afternoon, perhaps a little later.
The house was hushed, the birds outside sang occasionally and Gabriel snuffled softly beside her. It was idyllic, or would have been had she not now sported a bit of a hole in her side.
Experimentally, she moved, finding that although she definitely could feel the area, it was less troublesome than she’d expected. However, she remembered Royce’s words. Moving too much might open it up. Not something she wanted to experience.
So she lay quietly, her mind going back over the entire episode and trying to make sense out of Kilham’s ramblings. Was there a second will? She forced herself to recall the times she’d done her best to forget. The day the Earl made his will, she’d met the lawyer…what was his name? Mr Foll-something…Mr Follywhistle. That was it. She had wondered at his name when he was introduced, but he seemed quite pleasant and very efficient. He disappeared with her husband and they’d been closeted together for at least two hours.
Afterward, Kilham had smiled at her. A sweet smile, actually, and told her that he really had no choice but to leave his estate to his son. She would be cared for, he’d said.
That was all she could remember, and heaven knew she’d gone over those words many times during the bitter months at the Dower House.
She never bothered to ask him what he meant, because the likelihood of losing him had seemed impossible. So as to the veracity of Ernest’s claim? Well, she honestly didn’t know.
But he’d spouted so much vile nonsense. She’d had no lovers, nor had she done anything to divert her husband’s affections away from his son. Ernest had managed that himself, by his incessant tantrums and his final departure less than a month after they wed. If he’d not returned, she still believed her husband’s life would have been extended.
Sighing, she did her best to accept that those events in the past could not be changed.
What mattered was the now. And the tomorrow.
Gabriel stirred a little, muttering in his sleep, his brow creasing into a frown. She felt his hands clench into fists where they lay beside her, and worried that he drea
med of things that haunted him from his past as well.
She knew this man, his strength, his good heart, his gentle humour and his carefully concealed intelligence. She had some idea of the ordeals he’d suffered, and the familiarity he showed toward the gentlemen revealed more than just an ability to make friends.
The way he’d loved Evan, the way he’d sucked him so energetically—he’d enjoyed it, strange though it seemed to her. And yet he’d loved her every bit as enthusiastically, finally entering her, giving her his virginity, sinking himself to the hilt and loving every moment of it. There was no pretence that could have hidden the look on his face as he ultimately plunged deep inside her, settling there, letting the newness of it all sink in to his brain.
Surely Gabriel was a study in contrasts, a man with a huge capacity for love and no boundaries.
And he was as beautiful as the angel he was named after.
As if he felt her thoughtful gaze, the green eyes opened, blurry for a moment, then fastening on her face. “Hullo lovely lady.”
She smiled. “I was just thinking the same about you.”
He rolled his eyes. “Silly thing.”
“No seriously.”
“Yes, quite seriously. That’s so silly, but you are permitted the luxury of being silly because you’ve been injured.” He sat up carefully. “How do you feel, by the way?”
She moved, then eased herself upright, helped by his arm. “Like I need to relieve myself.”
“I’ll carry you.”
She sighed. “I don’t think so. But yes, you can stay right there. If I need help, I’ll shout for you. Will that suffice?”
He pouted. “I suppose so.”
“Good, because that’s the way it’s going to be.”
She surprised herself by accomplishing the task with little difficulty and proudly re-emerged from behind the screen to find Gabriel up and waiting for her.
“Can we go downstairs now? I’d like to let everyone know I’m well on the road to recovery.”
“On one condition.”
“What’s that?”
“I will be carrying you. Very carefully, of course, but no stairs for you.” He held out his arms.