A pistol fired, the ball aimless in the air. A gun sailed over the cliff.
Alexandra scrambled from her captors. Good. Nicholas sprang upon the first one he came to, hit the gaping thug in the mouth. Teeth went flying. The thug crumpled into the grass.
He’d been looking for a fight. He focused on his prey. The other man came at him, eyes wild, launching a right. Nicholas ducked, the buzz swept over his head. The thug’s momentum carried him in a curve, his kidney exposed for the taking. Easy enough, a question of force.
Nicholas hit a short right, a colossal blow, one that would have cracked an oak rafter. The thug stumbled and bent viciously backward from the force of the blow, the breath whooshing out of him. No doubt, the shock hit the back of his lungs like a million tiny needles, heated red-hot in a fire. The man tottered, and his right leg went stiff. He grew brave, swung around on his good leg, plowing at Nicholas like an ox, slamming him in the jaw. Stunned, Nicholas shook his head.
He wanted to finish this.
He hit the man with a right. All the way up from his planted feet, as hard as he could and felt his fist drive right through and beyond it. The thug’s head jerked backward and he flopped into the grass.
Breathing heavy, Nicholas wiped the blood from his mouth. He cleared his head and tipped his toe against the big man’s body. “He’ll be out for a while. I’ll have my men tie them up and take them back to London for questioning.”
Nicholas folded his arms in front of him. “Alexandra, you have some questions to answer. Why did you leave me?”
Head down, she refused to look at him. “What are you doing here, Nicholas? Here…with me…and then you saved my life.”
Her voice came in tearful breaks and he wanted to take her in his arms, but he wanted to hear from her lips that she didn’t want him. Pain like a white-hot bolt of agony ripped through him with the possibility.
“Those two thugs, probably sent by Lady Sutherland…you could have been killed, Alexandra.”
She looked at the unconscious men and clutched her throat. “How-how did you find me?”
Nicholas folded his arms in front of him, refusing to cross the divide. “Took me a month. You had never mentioned where in southern England you lived, but I was willing to tear apart the countryside to find you. Then I remembered you had mentioned your father was in the Royal Navy, the HMS Victory. My father used his connections with the admiralty and traced where Samuel’s pension was delivered. You have led me on a fine chase and now, I want answers as to why you left me.”
“I am ill-suited for you, Nicholas. London is filled with beautiful ladies who would be eager to flirt with a duke.”
He let out a loud breath. “Not good enough. I was born to meet you, Alexandra.”
She drew a line in the gravel with her toe. “And then there is the fact of Lady Susannah Tomkins, your fiancée and your upcoming wedding. She offers you everything.”
“Wrong. There is no Lady Susannah.”
“What? I saw her when we disembarked the ship. I read the wedding announcement in the London Chronicle.”
“That was all orchestrated by Susannah. She was overeager to strike-up the alignment with the existing engagement. I called the wedding off.”
“Oh?” She lifted her head.
They stood in silence for a while, half a lifetime in the space between them.
“When you disappeared, I was as fresh and raw as meat being put on a hook. I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t eat. I was so afraid I’d never find you.”
Tears came down her face. “You need someone with a perfect pedigree and you need an heir. I cannot provide either.”
He took a step toward her, wanted to wipe every tear from her face. Like his father had said, Alexandra was completely self-sacrificing. She left because she didn’t feel worthy. She left him because she felt he needed someone better for him. He shook his head. Never had he met a woman so noble.
“It’s time to end this.” He took a step closer, felt her yearning. “You have to come half-way. It’s all in your power. Take my hand. Do it. Come to me.”
With the roar of the ocean drumming below, she stared off over the horizon.
Nicholas caressed Alexandra’s arm and turned her face to him, making her look in to his eyes to see the import of his words. “You see color. I see shades of gray and all the negatives. I need you to see color and bring out all the positives.”
“It won’t work, Nicholas. I don’t want you. And here you are when I was trying so hard to get over you.”
He pulled her into his crushing embrace. “Prove it.”
He slanted his mouth over hers, her lips, silky and moist. His entire body hummed as she melted into him. For days, he hungered for a taste of her, worried he’d never find her again, afraid the whims of life would punish him.
“How I’ve missed you.” She moaned into his mouth, kissed him back, and he felt a potent mix of desires and longing from her.
He dragged his mouth from hers and leaned his forehead against hers. “Alexandra, your worth is beyond a million treasures. As the sun and the moon rise and fall, we are meant to be together, have endured insurmountable odds. We cannot stop it. I love you wholly and unconditionally and will never stop loving you. Promise me, you’ll never leave me again.”
“I promise, on one condition.”
“What’s that?”
“That you’ll keep on kissing me like that for the rest of our lives.”
Nicholas kissed her again, a long soulful kiss, and then stopped. “Before I begin something on this bluff, we need to stop.” With his arm tight around her, he escorted Alexandra to her cottage where they met an anxious Samuel. The ducal coach rambled to a stop with Nicholas’s men.
“You both are in danger,” Nicholas said. “I’m taking you to London where you will be under the Duke of Rutland’s protection. Pack what you will. My footman and guards will help you. I have a few things to attend to and will be right back.”
Nicholas turned. “Guards, bind and collect the two vagrants out on the cliff. I want them taken to London. After I get done questioning them, I’ll turn them over to the magistrate.”
The Rutland coach stopped at a small rustic stone church near the center of Deconshire. Nicholas leapt out. With vigorous purposeful strides, he followed a flagstone path to the vicarage. A sharp bonk on the top of his head made him stop. Damn. He rubbed his head and saw an apple rolling down the pathway. He looked up, just as another apple dropped. He covered his head. And then another apple dropped. He roared, ready to climb the tree. Hidden in the boughs of the oak was a round-faced boy with dark hair. “You must be Jay.”
On a branch to the left sat two identical little girls, swinging their legs back and forth.
“And you must be Sylvia and Julianna,” he addressed the twin girls, their stockings torn and dresses smudged with dirt.
“How did you know?” They pouted, disappointed he knew their names and their invisibility was uncloaked.
“The same reason I know you will be coming to a wedding soon.”
The door of the cottage opened and a man in a frockcoat stepped out. “A wedding?”
Nicholas held out his hand. “You must be Vicar Thompson. I am Lord Nicholas Rutland. I’m marrying a dear friend of yours, and would be honored if you and your children would attend.”
“Who is the lucky bride?”
“Alexandra Elwins.”
Vicar Thompson’s mouth dropped open. “Our Alexandra?”
The girls squealed. Jay dropped the rest of his apples. Nicholas stepped aside to dodge the raining missiles.
Jay pursed his lips as if weighing the most important question of the century. “Will you have cake?”
“The biggest cake in all England. That’s if I don’t get killed by a falling apple first.”
“I apologize for my children’s behavior, Lord Rutland,” said the Vicar.
“I have a favor, Vicar Thompson. Could you direct me to the home of the Cornett sisters
?”
“You aren’t going to invite the witches, are you?” asked Jay.
“They’re witches?” shrilled the girls.
“For out of the abundance of the heart, the mouth speaketh,” the Vicar reprimanded his children, and then raised an eyebrow to Nicholas. “They are not home. I just saw them in the village store. Alexandra has been through a lot, and forgive my opinion, but the Cornett sisters could learn a lesson in humility. I hope you do me proud, Lord Rutland.”
“When I get done with them, you’ll have so much pride, you’ll be choking from the sin.”
With four outriders, the Rutland coach pulled up in the center of the village common. Nicholas waited ten seconds, so onlookers could see the elaborate gilt detail of the coach, with the Rutland ducal crest emblazoned in gold on the door panel. No doubt, the remote town of Deconshire rarely saw nobility. He’d use that to his advantage. Normally, he’d never condescend to such an act, but defending Alexandra from the small-minded meanness of two spiteful crones was the right thing to do. With the decorum of a king, he made his exit and grimaced.
The store seemed to collapse in on itself like a cake taken from the oven too soon, and, boasted one large front window. His footman raced to open the door to the establishment, and Nicholas entered, passing his gaze over a collection of old gawking men, idlers who, with certainty spent their day loafing. The storeowner ceased sweeping. Dust motes flew across the brightness. Two women stood at the counter, examining bolts of fabric, their backs to Nicholas. With certainty, these two henwits were the infamous Cornett sisters.
“Mr. Grimes, would you stop that infernal sweeping and attend us,” demanded one of the sisters. Hortense. On the island, he had assumed Alexandra’s description of Hortense was hyperbole, but nothing in God’s creation could mimic the shrubs of hair curling from her ears.
The store clerk pointed his broom handle at the sisters. “I’ve attended you six times today and you still can’t make up your minds. I have to get my store swept.”
“Of all the nerve, my sister and I shall take our business elsewhere,” threatened Hortense over her shoulder.
“Be my guest, nearest town is twenty-five miles away.” The store clerk rested his chin on top of his broom and then remembered to bow. “What do I owe the honor of your lordship?”
At the word, Lordship, both women turned, sinking into curtsies, nearly toppling to the floor.
Gertrude, the sister with a million yawning cracks in her face, grabbed hold of the counter and heaved her bulk up, batting her eyelashes at him. “Your lordship, what do we owe the honor?”
Nicholas loathed using the haughty presence of the highborn to kindle a sense of inferiority in the two women, but their malicious gossip-mongering toward Alexandra stuck in his mind. “I’m the Duke of Rutland and have traveled far. I’m looking for Lady Alexandra Sutherland.”
Hortense combed the hair from her ears with her fingers. “I assure your lordship there is no lady in our village by that name except for Alexandra Elwins who is of no consequence and a woman of ill standing.”
Gertrude smirked. At least he thought it was a smirk because a crack opened into a crevice. “She has a reputation that precedes her.”
Nicholas inspected the two twittering Cornett sisters with a condescending glare. “She is the same woman. I take exception to you besmirching my future wife.”
Their mouths worked up and down like beached salmon. “Alexandra Elwins?”
Nicholas slapped his gloves on his hand. “I hope there is not any negative conversation against my betrothed or there will be heavy consequences.”
Gertrude’s eyes bulged. Hortense hyperventilated. “Consequences?”
Nicholas stood silent for a full minute as if he were examining the worst of possibilities. Thumbscrews? Submerging them in ice water? Dropping apples on them?
“Draw and quarter them,” yelled one of the old men.
Nicholas wasn’t that bloodthirsty. But the effect from the man’s comments was beneficial. Gertrude clawed her face. Hortense let go of her ears and clutched her heart.
“No, sir. I mean, no, your lordship. Never would you hear anything disapproving from our mouths,” said the sisters in unison, breaking into full body tremors. “Alexandra is the nicest girl in Deconshire.”
“That is what I thought and in the future, I better not hear otherwise.”
The old men burst into applause.
Smiling, the storekeeper pointed north with his broomstick. “She lives in the stone cottage at the end of the lane.”
“Then I shall take my leave. Good day.” Nicholas pivoted and the storekeeper tripped over his broom to open the door for him.
Nicolas vaulted in his coach. From the corner of his eye, he noted every person in the store had their noses pressed up against the windows. He laughed. His act was enough to get the tongues in southern England a ‘wagging.
He tapped the roof, in a hurry to get back to Alexandra and pack her and her father up to London before there was more danger and before she changed her mind.
Chapter 21
They traveled overland for better part of a week, arriving at the Rutland Townhouse in London. Fronted by a three-sided courtyard stood a red-brick mansion with an impressive Doric colonnade situated at the north end of Piccadilly. Her hand fluttered up to her throat and then slid over her pounding heart. She peered at her father and he nodded reassuringly. Nothing had prepared her for this.
She glanced at the dress Nicholas had bought for her, dirty from her travels, and then wistfully at the steps.
Nicholas looked her over. “You are perfect as you are and my family will love you. I’ll take care of your wardrobe posthaste.”
Nicholas helped her disembark and laughed when she widened her eyes at the edifice. “Imposing, isn’t it.”
An aura of carefully restrained power, of forcefulness, emanated from him. Nicholas was all that a duke would be.
“Come along. I have someone I want you to meet.”
He guided her to the top of the stairs. Rigidly proper, and attired in dark maroon livery, a tall, beak-nosed, and silver haired man stood, his grey eyes speculative beneath thick bushy brows. Chest out, shoulders back, bearing stiff as new canvas, he gave the impression that if he hunched for the slightest moment it would be a slur to himself and to his King and country.
“Welcome home, Lord Rutland.”
Nicholas chuckled. “Thank you, Sebastian. May I introduce you to Lady Sutherland? I have convinced her I will make a tolerable husband. And this is her adoptive father, Captain Elwins.”
Except for a singular twitch of Sebastian’s dense brows, the butler’s face remained expressionless, though his warm brown eyes twinkled. “Indeed, my lord.”
“My lady, and Captain Elwins, this my family’s butler, and my dear friend, Sebastian. I’ve known him since I was in my nappies, and he’s helped me out of plenty of scrapes. Haven’t you, Sebastian?” Nicholas winked at his butler, and then he gave Alexandra a lopsided grin so endearing, the knot in her stomach eased a degree.
The butler cleared his throat. Humor danced in the eyes of an otherwise stoic face. “You were always a perfect gentleman, your lordship.”
Bowing formally, Sebastian intoned, “Welcome to London, my lady and Captain Elwins.”
Alexandra smiled. She liked him already. “Thank you, Sebastian.”
Sebastian gestured inside with his hand. “His Grace, Lord and Lady Rutland await your presence.
Alexandra’s gaze roamed the large, opulent entry. At one end of the entry was a helloidial staircase that spiraled up to a fourth floor. White marble floors glistened beneath a crystal chandelier and paintings of colorful landscapes hung on the walls. Several carved doors graced the sidewalls. Sebastian skirted ahead and opened one of them.
She fought the urge to turn and bolt. Nicholas’s family would take one look at her, put Nicholas in an asylum and send her packing. White-knuckled, she gripped Nicholas’s arm and he looked d
own on her.
He patted her hand and smiled. “O ye of little faith.”
“Lord Rutland and Lady Sutherland have arrived, your Grace.”
She was stunned the butler had spoken her unproven title, but Nicholas had introduced her as such and Sebastian had taken his lead. Nicholas propelled her forward. The room had clusters of sofas and chairs scattered about and a massive fireplace with pictures of ancestors on the walls beneath elegant moldings trimmed in gold.
Everyone stood when they entered. Nicholas’s father, Duke Richard Rutland, his brother, Anthony, an elderly woman, and the beautiful woman she had spied on the London docks the day of their arrival.
Silence. Maybe her presence was not the rosy picture Nicholas had painted. Her stomach started to cramp. She wanted to run from the room.
Nicholas’s father strode toward her, his face serious. She licked her lips. Was he going to throw her out?
He took her completely by surprise, broke decorum and hugged her. “Thank you for saving my son’s life. I am indebted to you.”
Her breath hitched. Nicholas’s father acknowledged her. Of course his family would be grateful because she saved Nicholas’s life but accepting her into the family would be another matter.
The auburn-haired woman rushed forward and hugged her, too.
“I’m Rachel and welcome, Alexandra.”
Her accent was different. Alexandra frowned.
“My accent confuses people. I’m from the Colonies.” Rachel laughed. “We have heard so many wonderful things about you. And this is my husband, Anthony, Nicholas’s brother.”
Anthony shook her hand and Samuel’s. “I understand you had a bit of trouble in Deconshire.”
Nicholas shrugged negligently. “I took care of it, convincing them of their lack of respect for Alexandra.”
Only You: Duke of Rutland Series III Page 18