by Jenna Brandt
After several moments, Margaret forced herself to pull away from Michel’s embrace and step back, trying to distance herself and steel herself for what came next.
“I still have to leave, Michel.”
“No, you do not. Whatever is going on, we can handle it together.”
“We cannot. He will never stop coming after me.”
“You are referring to the Duke of Witherton, I presume?”
“Yes, he was here. He attacked and threatened me. I barely got away this time, and when he finds me again, my life will be over.”
“I can shield you, all of you, from him.”
Margaret looked up at her fiancé and realized he believed what he was saying. But she knew the duke far better than anyone, and she knew how he operated. There was no protection from him, only running and hiding. Anonymity would be her only true defense, because the duke would obliterate anyone who got in his way.
“I cannot ask that of you, Michel. I want to stay and marry you, but I will not risk your life to save my own.”
“I have no life without you, Margaret. I need you.”
“Why has it taken you this long to tell me how you feel? I have waited so long to hear you say you love and need me.”
“Truthfully, it was when I got your letter and read it that I realized how deeply I felt. The thought of losing you made me face my own feelings and admit how much I truly love you.”
And Margaret realized that she loved him too. She had been pushing the feeling aside, blaming his lack of emotion, but she had been holding back, secretly dreading the moment that she feared would come and shatter what they had. But here it was, and they were both still standing—together. She did not have to be afraid anymore.
“I love you too.”
“Then you will stay. You will come home with me, and we will get married immediately so that you can stay with me in my home. We can have a formal celebration down the road, but your family’s safety is of paramount importance, and to guarantee that, you need to be living with me.”
“I agree.”
Michel gestured to several of the dock workers and said, “Please load Lady Margaret’s and her family’s baggage back onto their carriage. They have had a change of plans and will not be traveling today.”
Randall walked over and stated, “I take it from the luggage being put back on our carriage that we will not be going to the Americas after all?”
Margaret shook her head. “It seems that I will be getting married this evening instead.”
Jackie and Randall smiled enthusiastically. “That is the best news I have heard in a long while,” Randall exclaimed.
The best friends hugged and Jackie laughed, saying, “We are both going to be newlyweds by day’s end.”
Michel led Margaret over to his carriage. “Let us head home in my carriage, Margaret. Randall, Jackie, and the rest of your family can follow in yours.”
He helped her up and then gracefully climbed in next to her. He tapped the side of the carriage door to let the driver know they were ready to leave. Quickly, the carriage took off down the cobblestone road.
“When we get home, I will send for a justice of the court, and we will be married before night’s end. Are you ready to be my wife?”
“Yes, Michel, I want nothing more than for us to be man and wife.”
Giddily, Margaret leaned over and kissed Michel, who fervently kissed her back. She could not believe that, just moments ago, she had been trying to convince herself to walk away from this man forever. She loved him so much she could barely contain it. Leaving him behind would have been the worst mistake of her life.
“I love you, Michel. I love you so much.”
“I love you too, Margaret. You make me so happy. I should have told you a long time ago.”
Wrapping her arms around his neck, she gently pulled him close. “I cannot wait until tonight, after we say our vows and become man and wife.”
“Believe me, I have thought about it as well, and nothing will please me more than to call you my wife.” He leaned in and kissed her again, deeper and fuller that time, allowing his lips to linger on hers.
“Margaret,” he whispered against her lips, causing his breath to tickle her skin. She purred at the sound of her name and snuggled even further into his embrace. Giddy and spinning from the excitement of their upcoming wedding, Margaret could hardly focus on anything else, but abruptly, she felt the carriage come to a halt.
Releasing her, Michel looked around, causing Margaret to do the same. Something did not feel right. Margaret did not know why, but she was sure something was wrong.
“Michel, I am scared. Why have we stopped? It is too soon for us to be at your estate.”
“I know,” he said in a steely tone. She noticed his body stiffen as his hand immediately went to the sword at his waist.
Michel leaned towards the window and looked out. He furrowed his eyebrows together in frustration. “I cannot see anything. I need to get out so that I can ask the driver why we are not still moving.”
Margaret grabbed Michel’s arm. “Do not leave me. I do not want to be left alone in here.”
“You need not worry. The carriage probably has a wheel that has come loose and they stopped to fix it before it came off completely.” He leaned towards Margaret and kissed her on the lips. “Wait here. I will be right back.”
Before Margaret could say another word, Michel jumped out of the carriage. Moments ticked by and nothing happened, making her even more anxious. What was taking so long?
She moved towards the window and gazed out, trying to locate Michel and make sense of what was going on. Where was everyone? If they were fixing a wheel, she would hear them or at least see commotion around the carriage, but everything was eerily still and quiet.
Margaret sucked in a deep breath while she tightly wrung her hands in her lap. Should she get out and check on Michel? He had told her to stay in the carriage and wait, but she could not shake the nagging feeling that something was very wrong with the situation. She needed to know what was going on, and sitting in the carriage was not going to help her.
She placed her hand on the door handle and pushed it open. Just as she was about to step out, a hand grabbed her arm and Margaret gasped in shock.
“Get back in the carriage, Margaret. Something is not right. The driver is missing, and I cannot find him anywhere.” Michel climbed in next to her and quickly shut the door.
“What about Randall, Jackie, and Henry? They were behind us, were they not?”
“They were when we left. However, their carriage is nowhere to be found.”
“What do you think happened to them?”
“Most likely, we got separated from them. There were several carriages at the docks when we left, and it is possible they are just a further bit behind us.”
“Should we wait, then?”
“No, the driver going missing makes me uneasy. On this stretch of the road, we are completely isolated.”
“What are we going to do, Michel?”
“You are going to stay in here and I am going to take over as the driver and make sure we get home.”
“Please do not go back out there. I have a horrible feeling about this.”
Gently, Michel reached out and touched Margaret’s face. He softly rubbed the side of her cheek with his thumb. “Margaret, I love you.”
“And I love you, Michel.”
He opened the carriage door and hopped down. He turned back around and smiled. “I promised I would protect you, and I mean it. Trust me.”
But before Margaret could respond, a voice that made her immediately tremble with fear said, “Do not make promises you cannot keep.”
Margaret screamed as one of the duke’s hired mercenaries grabbed Michel and put a knife to his neck.
“Please, please, do not hurt him!”
The duke grinned wickedly and threatened, “What I do to him depends on what you choose to do over the next several moments.”
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br /> “What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean. I want you to come with me.” Witherton roughly grabbed her by the arm and yanked her down out of the carriage. “Of course, that is after we dispatch your ‘fiancé’ to make sure he does not come after us.”
“He has nothing to do with this. Let him go!”
“Now, we both know he cannot be left alive. ‘No loose ends’ is the motto I live by.”
“Do not worry about me, Margaret. Save yourself,” Michel yelled.
“Silly boy, there is no way out for her. She got the best of me during our last encounter, but I came prepared this time with help. I got rid of your driver and replaced him with my man here.” He gestured to the man holding Michel at knifepoint. “Then I made sure that your brother’s carriage broke down and that you were separated on the road.”
“You will never get away with this.”
“My dear, you should know by now that I can get away with anything. I am the Duke of Witherton.”
“You cannot go with him.”
“Michel, if I can save your life by going with him, then that is what I am going to do.”
“No, Margaret, listen to me. I do not care about myself. Your safety is all that matters to me.”
“She is no longer your concern,” the duke stated as he forced Margaret to walk towards his carriage.
“Kill him, and then get rid of the body and carriage.”
“No!” Margaret cried out as she tried to break free and run back towards Michel, but the duke’s grip was brutally tight, keeping her from reaching him.
“It is all right, Margaret. I love you.” She could hear it in Michel’s tone that he was saying goodbye, but she could not let herself accept it. She could not handle losing another person she loved.
Margaret watched in horror as the duke’s henchman shifted the knife in his hand and started to push it into Michel’s neck, but everyone was taken by surprise when Michel quickly jerked his head backwards and slammed it into the henchman’s face.
The man stumbled backwards, dropping his knife, and grabbed his bleeding face in pain. Michel swirled away and pulled his sword free in one quick motion. Without hesitation, he thrust forward and sliced through the man’s chest. The henchman slumped to the ground and suddenly stopped moving.
“My, my, are we not full of surprises,” Witherton sneered as he unsheathed his own sword.
“I promised to keep Margaret and her son safe, and I always keep my promises.”
“You will not be the first man she has loved who I have gotten rid of. I have become quite adept at it.”
“What… what did you just say?” She could not believe her ears. “What did you mean you got rid of the man I loved?”
With a sneer, Witherton boasted, “Do you honestly think Henry was killed by random bandits? No, I waited for the right opportunity, and then I had my men take him out and make it look like a robbery.”
Margaret began to shake uncontrollably. “You monster! You killed Henry!”
“Yes, and now I will do the same with this one.” The duke lunged forward and slashed at Michel, who luckily was equally skilled in swordsmanship and successfully dodged the strike. He countered it with one of his own but was unable to land the blow. Both circled each other for several seconds, assessing how to attack the other effectively.
Margaret watched them with utter horror. Michel was practiced, but she feared it would not be enough. From what Henry had told her, Witherton had fought his fair share of duels.
Out of the corner of her eye, Margaret noticed an object glinting in the sunlight several feet away. It was the knife that Witherton’s henchman had dropped. She had to get to it. Trying to block out how the clinking sound of metal made her flinch and focus on her own task, she slowly made her way over to the knife and quickly picked it up. Keeping the knife in her hand, she placed it behind her and backed up until she was flat against the carriage.
Both men were getting winded as they continued to exchange blow for blow without landing a hit. Margaret was not sure how long they could go on before one of them dropped their guard and the other took advantage. She just prayed it was not Michel who ended up on the wrong end of the sword.
“You know, I could do this all day, but I am pressed to get this finished so that I can take Margaret and have my way with her.”
“I know you are trying to provoke me so that I will make a mistake. It will not work.”
Witherton let out a cackle and spit out, “I do not need to provoke you to get what I want. All I have to do is wait you out. I am better than you, and we both know it.”
“Your pride will be your downfall. You think too highly of yourself.”
“And you have been made a fool by a woman with a ruined reputation.”
“Nothing you say will change how I feel about Lady Margaret. I know everything that happened to her by your hands, and none of the vile things you say are true. You are just a bitter man with nothing of value in his life, chasing after a woman who clearly hates you.”
The words must have struck a chord with the duke, as a look of pure rage crossed his face and he lunged at Michel full force. Michel stepped out of his way and turned around, and before Witherton could swivel around, Michel swung his sword and struck the duke in the shoulder, causing him to stagger forward and land on one knee. Intent on finishing the job, Michel advanced on Witherton and raised his sword.
Margaret inhaled sharply, expecting Michel to finally avenge the awful acts that the duke had done to her and her family. But Witherton was only faking being hurt to bait Michel in closer. Margaret saw that he still held his sword in his hand and was preparing to use it.
“Michel, watch out,” Margaret yelled. However, it was too late. Just as the words left her mouth, Witherton spun around on one knee and swung upward with his sword, penetrating Michel’s chest.
She fell to her knees and let out a scream. Then without warning, she began to sob uncontrollably and her whole body shook. It was all she could do to keep the knife in her hand and behind her back.
Michel crumpled to the ground, and Witherton pulled his sword free. He wiped the blade on Michel’s clothing and then nonchalantly put the sword back in its sheath.
Determinedly, he walked over to Margaret and seized her by the arm and jerked her up, saying in a clipped voice, “Now that I have dealt with that inconvenience, it is time for us to be on our way.”
Margaret looked up at the duke and said, “Why must you always take away everything I love?”
Witherton sneered as he answered, “Because you belong to me. From the moment I laid eyes on you, I knew you were mine. I cannot stand the idea of you being with anyone else.”
Margaret turned her head away, unable to stand looking at the man who had killed the two loves of her life. But the duke was not finished yet, reaching down to take her face in his hand. As he forced her to look at him, he continued, “I know, one day, you will see that I have done all of this for us and our family. You will love me again, Margaret. I swear it.”
He was delusional. He actually thought he could somehow find a way to make her love him. The man’s arrogance knew no bounds.
Witherton reached down and touched her face with his fingertips. Margaret went utterly still, afraid that if she moved at all, she would reveal the knife behind her back. Every inch of her revolted internally at the mere touch of him.
He whispered against her mouth, “Margaret, I have missed the feel of you so much.”
Margaret forced herself to choke back the bile that was in her throat and concentrate on finding the right moment to attack.
“You feel it, the irresistible pull between us? We have always had this undeniable connection from the moment we met. We belong together.”
Margaret glared up at Witherton and said, “I belong to no one.” With one swift motion, she pulled the knife from behind her back and jabbed it into his side.
Witherton shrieked and lurched backwards, grabbing at hi
s side, gasping in shock as he stared at her in disbelief. He stumbled a few more feet before falling to the ground.
She quickly ran past him without another thought. Michel was still alive, his breathing ragged. Margaret dropped to her knees beside him and said, “I am here, Michel. You are going to pull through this, but I need to get you up.” She put her arm under him and started to lift him up. “Does that hurt?”
“It does not feel exactly pleasant,” Michel whispered, “but I can manage with your help.” Glancing around, he asked in a worried tone, “Are you all right? Where is the duke?”
“I am all right, Michel. I took care of Witherton.”
“Then why can I not see him anywhere?”
Margaret’s eyebrows came together in worry. “What? He was just there a few moments ago,” Margaret said pointing towards the ground where Witherton had fallen.
“He is not there now. You need to leave me and get out of here,” Michel ordered.
“I will do no such thing. He obviously left, knowing he was in no condition to fight us any longer. He’s no threat at the moment. I just need to get you to a doctor who can help.”
Michel nodded. “I was lucky. Your warning, made me twist to the side, and his sword only pierced my shoulder.” He coughed raggedly. “Get me to the carriage, and we can get out of here.”
Margaret guided Michel over where she unhooked and mounted one of the horses, saying a thankful prayer that she knew how to ride bareback. Her father had been furious when he found out that she had bribed the stable boy with sweet breads to teach her when she was eight. It turned out it was worth the whipping she had received back then as punishment.
“Can you ride bareback?” Margaret inquired as she reached out her hand to Michel.
Nodding, Michel took her hand with his good arm. “I learned as a boy.”
She helped him climb up. “Good, then hold on tight.” Margaret galloped off in the direction of Michel’s estate.