The Cynfell Brothers Collection

by Samantha Holt

  “Oh, maybe not tomorrow. The modiste is visiting for the dress fitting. Really, we are quite lucky she could come at such short notice.”

  “We are indeed.” He squeezed her hand that he still held almost possessively. “You are doing a fine job to get everything ready so quickly. Do not think me ungrateful and do not think ill of me for setting such an early date. I am simply eager to make you my wife and show you how high my esteem for you is.”

  “Not long now,” she trilled, her voice reaching notes she did not know it could.

  Harpy gave her a quizzical look but smiled. “Well, I must dash. Rest well and I shall see you after your wedding dress fitting.”

  He dipped to give her a kiss on her hand and mounted his horse. He gave her a little wave and she headed into the house. Her Mama pounced on her. “Oh dear, you just missed Niall. He was so very keen to see you but he had to dash off. A meeting with a friend he said.”

  Cleo scowled. “Did he say who?”

  “Not really, dear, but why would he? It is his business after all."

  It seemed a little strange he would be meeting a friend so late. Firstly, Niall had no friends, and secondly, he detested late evening events. Her heart gave a little skip. Could this be something...?

  “I had better see if I can catch up with him, Mama. I won’t be long.”

  “At this time of night, Cleo? Certainly not.”

  “I shall be back in a trice.” She dashed out of the door before her mother could do anything about it. She could outrun and outride all of them so she had no fear of being caught.

  “Leave the saddle on!” she demanded when she raced around the corner to the stables. Thankfully her gelding was still saddled and ready to go. She hardly waited until they were out of stable before she mounted him and set him on at a fierce pace.

  Cleo headed in the direction she’d seen Niall leave in. Her palms were clammy against her gloves. There was this tiny, instinctual part of her that told her this was important and she could not lose him. Perhaps this would be the proof or the information she needed.

  She ducked a branch and forced herself to take a breath. As accomplished a rider as she was, going out in the dark was not her forte. She could well be set upon by bandits or take a tumble. But for Gideon and his father, she had to find out what he was up to.

  Moving down a lane, she smiled to herself. Not at the situation but at how her willingness to act had been spurred on not by the thought of her fate but of Gideon’s. As long as Niall held that information, neither he nor St. Clair would be safe. Who knew what else he would use it for?

  Oh, but if only he had told her sooner. She had always considered that being the youngest brother had meant he’d felt a little left out. Gideon had often chosen to remain out of family business as much as possible, and now she knew why. He did not feel like one of them.

  Could she have helped if he had told her sooner? She liked to think so.

  The lane opened up into a crossroads, and she spotted the golden glow of lamplight shimmering from The Ship Inn’s windows. The two storey traveller’s inn was reputed to be quite the dangerous place to be. There had been talk of smugglers and highwaymen residing there. Her pulse quickened. She hoped the rumours were false.

  Particularly when she spotted Niall’s horse in the open stables.

  Instead of stabling her horse, she dismounted and tied him up in the shadows behind the inn. She checked twice to be sure that she could not be seen from the road. By any luck, she would be out long before anyone else arrived anyway.

  Easing her hat over her face, she slipped into the door. The inn was separated into two parts by the entrance way. Coloured glass images of ships were set into the walls of the partition. It allowed her to slip around the side of the room to the left with ease. Keeping herself to the shadows, she searched the patrons for Niall.

  And there he was at a rear table, sitting with a man who looked as though he could very well be a smuggler. His arms were huge and his shoulders broad. A scruffy beard covered his chin and she thought she saw some kind of inked markings on his face. She gulped and glanced at the rest of the men and women. Not many of them were any different.

  She did not belong here.

  Tucked into her shawl, she continued to edge around the room. Laughter rang out and the clatter of glasses added an almost comforting feel. The noise hid her steps as she neared the table and eased herself into a chair nearby. However, it meant she had to strain to hear what was being said.

  “Pain in the arse...”

  Cleo scowled. She had never heard Niall speak so.

  “It’s getting risky. Too many people know. If I cannot keep him and his father quiet, all my plans shall be for nothing.”

  “Don’t want an arrest spoiling your wedding day.” The man with Harper chuckled as though he had made a great joke.

  “Indeed. So can you take care of him for me? A fall from a horse ought to do it. As for St. Clair, he’s old enough. I’m sure there will be an easy way to make it look natural.”

  “I can, but it will cost you.”

  Cleo held her breath. They were talking about men’s lives—St. Clair’s, and she was certain the other had to be Gideon—as though they meant nothing.

  “I would not expect anything less,” Niall replied.

  “Fifty pounds.”

  “If you can get rid of the son tomorrow, I’ll double it.”

  “Consider it done.”

  She could almost imagine the vicious smiles they shared. Nausea rose in her throat. She had to get to Gideon and warn him. If this man attacked him, he would have no chance. Though tempted to remain to listen longer, she knew she was playing with her luck. With the shawl tucked firmly around her face, she hastened out of the building and recovered her horse.

  The night was truly pitch dark now and the shortest ride to Lockwood would not be easy but she had to. Gideon needed to be warned.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Gideon scowled at the hammering on his door. He’d retreated to his bedroom at Lockwood several hours ago. Today had wearied him. In fact, his brothers wearied him. Many men would be lucky to have such brothers, but they were determined to get involved in every part of his business and he had no wish to involve them. Why should they end up at risk for their half-brother? Especially when they all had wives and children to think of.

  He dragged himself off the bed and hauled open the door. Julian scowled at him. “You need to come to the drawing room.”

  “Why?”

  “You have a visitor.” His scowl deepened. “I do not know when I turned into a damn servant, but Viola insisted I fetch you. She’s with her now.”

  Her? Cleo, he meant. He knew it, somehow.

  Gideon ignored putting on shoes or doing up his shirt but at least managed to shove a hand through his hair. He strode down into the drawing room and froze.

  “What the devil happened to you?”

  Mud stained Cleo’s hems and her hair was wild. She looked as though she had been through something terrible, particularly when she looked at him with wide, fearful eyes.

  “I must speak with Gideon alone,” she told Viola.

  Julian’s wife nodded and eased away, closing the door behind them.

  He strode forward. “Please tell me you did not ride here.”

  “I had no choice.”

  “Good Lord, Cleo, you could have been killed.”

  “Rather me than you,” she declared, lifting her chin.

  “Me? Why should my life matter?” He wrapped his fingers around her upper arms, aware of the warmth of her skin and the hammering of his heart. Why would she ride over here in the dark? What kind of foolish woman was she to risk her life to see him?

  “I heard...” She took a breath. “I overheard Niall talking with a man. A very bad-looking man, Gideon. He said he wanted you dead. Your father too.”

  He frowned at her. “You were at his house?”

  She shook her head. “No, he visited Chetwyn. I foll
owed him to an inn where he met the man.”

  “Which inn?”

  She winced. “The Ship Inn.”

  “I am assuming it was nightfall considering the time you returned home.”

  “Yes,” she said softly.

  “Good God, what were you thinking? You were lucky you weren’t killed.”

  He dropped her arms as images besieged him. Cleo attacked on the roads or set upon at the inn. Dead in the bushes somewhere. He could well have lost her tonight all because of her foolishness.

  “I needed to know, Gideon. He was up to something, I was certain of it, and I had to know what.”

  “You should have left this to me, I told you I would deal with Harpy and I damn well will, regardless of what happens to me or St. Clair.”

  “Your father,” she murmured.

  “I know damn well who he is.”

  “Well, maybe if you acknowledged it once in a while you would not seem so damned bitter about it,” she spat at him.

  Gideon shook his head. How had they gone from her nearly killing herself to him being accused of being bitter simply because he did not relish the revelation that he did not share the same father as his brothers?

  He thrust a finger at her. “Do not try to distract me, Cleo. What you did was reckless. I had thought you a clever woman. Clearly I was wrong.”

  “So I should have just left you uninformed? Just waited until you were set upon and killed perhaps?”

  “Yes, dammit.” He grabbed her again. “Yes. My life is worth far less than yours.”

  Perhaps it was the way she looked at him, all fiery eyed. Or maybe it was the mutinous pout of her lips. It could well have been the hot rage pulsing through his veins. Whatever it was, he was powerless against it.

  He hauled her hard against him and kissed her.

  This was no tender moment as he might have imagined it could have been. All his anger, his frustration, and his desire for her poured into this. He kissed her hard until she softened in his arms. The squeak of protest did not sound again and instead she loosened a noise he’d never heard from her before—the sort of noise a woman made before a delicious dessert, right in the back of her throat.

  Gideon savoured the noise, as did he savour her taste. He released her arms to tug her into his hold. He bundled her close, breaking just briefly to look at her rosy cheeks and heavy-lidded eyes. Her fingers looped around his neck, and when he brought his mouth down a second time, she opened her lips to him. He tasted her warmth and a groan escaped him.

  “Cleo,” he murmured, kissing her again and again.

  “Gideon,” she replied.

  They took several unsteady steps while they kissed furiously. He suspected he would never wish to stop. Her body was there, all delicate and willowy against him. Her lips were soft, yet wild, on his.

  The back of her legs hit a chaise and they tumbled onto it. He kept his weight from her but relished her length beneath him. He kissed her lips once, twice, and third time, then gave her one long one when she looked at him through lowered lashes.

  When he finally came away, he pulled in a ragged breath. He did not move straight away, simply looked down at her and admired the way her red curls sat against the plush gold cushions and how her lips were rosy and plump.

  Finally, he moved to sitting and eased her up too. He took in a breath and blew it out. “You should not have done that,” he said quietly.

  “Kiss you?”

  He shook his head. “No, followed Niall.”

  “I did it to protect you.”

  “I know.” He took her hand in his. “But it should be my job to protect you. As your friend, as your...Well, as someone who cares for you.”

  More colour brought out her freckles. “I know, and I am grateful but I could not miss this opportunity.” She edged closer. “And, Gideon, I am glad I did not. That man he asked to kill you...he said he would pay him extra if he managed to kill you tomorrow.”

  Gideon shook his head. “Harper must be getting desperate. Which means he fears we are getting close. Not that we are, but...” He let slip a grin. “He might have given us what we need.”

  “Whatever do you mean?”

  He paused. “I think I need to ask for my brothers’ help.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  “What if he does not attack today?” Julian asked.

  Gideon glanced at his older brother who was atop a fine black gelding. His other brothers—well, the ones that were around at the time—were scattered about, keeping watch but hidden from plain sight.

  “Then I wait, and pray he does not catch me off guard.”

  Julian shook his head. “Let us hope it does not happen. Some dangerous folk spend time at The Ship.”

  “Yes.”

  “And to think Cleo was fool enough to go there...”

  “Trust me, she will never do something like that again.”

  Or at least he prayed not. He could hardly count his scolding as the most severe, not considering he kissed her. And that the kiss turned out to be the most astonishing kiss of his life. He should not be surprised, of course. After all it was Cleo and he did love her.

  But, Christ, he could still taste her. Still smell her and feel her against him.

  After all this was over, he’d have to try to get another kiss. Then another and another. From the way she had responded to him, there was no chance she would not want more, surely?

  “I hope you’re right.” He drew his horse to a stop. “If we do not run into this fellow today, will you ensure you do not go out alone?” His brother’s mouth remained in a grim line. “Viola would worry for you.”

  Gideon could not help smile at this. Though Julian liked to remain taciturn at the best of times, Viola had done a fine job of softening him, and he recognised the genuine concern for him there. A tiny jolt of guilt struck him. Would he care as much if he knew that Gideon was only his half-brother?

  But then he considered the years they had shared and the way Julian had led the family. Perhaps he would.

  “I shall be careful, I swear. I have to be for Cleo’s sake.”

  A knowing glint lit in his brother’s eyes. “I always considered that Harper chap an odd one. Let us hope we get the evidence we need to ensure he is put away for a long time.”

  “Or sentenced to hard labour.”

  Julian grinned. “Even better.” His smile dropped briefly. “You should have told us sooner. Perhaps we could have helped before Cleo leapt into action.”

  Gideon rubbed a hand across his jaw that had grown prickly after avoiding a shave this morning. “I know.”

  Regret scoured his insides. He should have asked for their help. He shouldn’t have been so damn proud. His brothers would do anything for one another and that included him. If he had explained what Harper had done sooner, Cleo might never have had to resort to such desperate measures.

  “I shall ride on,” Julian said. “I will keep you in sight but remain hidden. As soon as I see anything, I’ll be back at your side.”

  Gideon nodded.

  “Be on your guard. Viola will have my head if I let anything happen to you.”

  He chuckled. “I have little intention of coming out of this with anything other than the proof I need.”

  “Excellent.” Julian flashed him a rare grin, gave him a pat on the back, and galloped off toward the hedge row. The hope was that anyone watching would believe he was alone.

  Gideon glanced back at the grand sight of Lockwood House against a backdrop of rolling hills and oak trees. He prayed this was not an utter waste of time. This criminal fellow whom Harpy had hired would know where he was currently staying, and he was betting he would want that extra money. So the hope was the man had been watching the house, waiting for Gideon to emerge. It was past midday. He had to be here now, surely?

  The thought that his brothers Pierce and Ash were waiting hidden in the trees was a comfort. Pierce was a fine boxer, and Ash was a big man. Between them, he was confident they could
handle whatever was thrown at them.

  He led the gelding on a gentle ride, keeping a wary eye out. The plan had been to remain just far enough away from the house that the thug might think he could take a chance on him but well within view and easy reach of his brothers. After Cleo had visited last night and he’d returned her home, he’d been forced to explain some of the circumstances. Of course, they believed him without question and he had to wonder why he had not spoken to them before.

  But then, they did not know it all, did they? Cleo had said they deserved the truth, but what if it created distance between them? He was well aware he’d already created some of his own. It could make it worse. He huffed out a breath.

  Peridot grew impatient with the gentle pace so he urged him into a gallop to get closer to the trees. He reckoned the man would not move until he was nearer and there was no chance for Gideon to escape.

  For too long, he moved up and down the hills, tracing the line of the hills. Perhaps it would never happen and this was a fool’s mission, but he had to wait. This was their one chance to crack through Harper’s cleverly innocent exterior. This man would give them all the information they needed.

  He paced up and down a few more times. Then there was a crack of twigs. The sound of horse hooves. He pivoted his head to see a man on horseback emerge from the gloom of the woods at a furious pace. He couldn’t help grin when he noted that Pierce was already in pursuit. It looked as though the thug had managed to come across his brothers’ position.

  The man still came for Gideon, but he kept his pace deliberately slow. There was no way he would lose him. He flicked a look over his shoulder and eyed the weapon in his hand—a large baton. So that was the plan—knock him off his horse and likely smash his skull in if he survived. It could well have been passed off as a horrible riding accident, and if it wasn’t, no one would have found motive or the culprit.

  He slowed to a stop once the man got close. The look of confusion on his face made Gideon grin. Pierce was on his tail, and Julian and Ash were not far behind.

  The brute of a man lifted the baton, and Gideon braced himself. As he swung down, Gideon jumped from the horse and lunged for his boot. A blur of hooves and fur rushed past him and he hit dirt. Pain coursed through his body. But it was enough. The thug slowed and the horse stumbled. Pierce leaped from his own horse and forced the man off. They both tumbled to the ground with a thud while Julian and Ash dismounted.