Devil Take the Duke (Lords of the Night Book 1)

by Sandra Sookoo

  Not caring that it neared midday or that the streets of Mayfair were busy with carriages and foot traffic, he burst from the townhouse and ran until he found a halfway sheltered spot. Then, he called the shift, welcomed the pain but even that didn’t soothe his breaking heart or fill the place that Alice had occupied.

  His breath coming in short pants, Donovan ran and he kept running until his leg muscles ached and his lungs burned. He didn’t stop until he’d reached Shalford an hour or so later, and even then he kept moving, for if he stopped, he’d think about her and remember… and feel.

  Oh God, I love her, and I’ve lost her.

  Thankfully, his wolf didn’t answer, and still he kept running, for over an hour or more. He visited the villages far beyond Shalford’s borders and then, in a bout of melancholy, he returned to the exact place where he’d first met Alice, where he’d rescued her from the runaway curricle. He darted into the thicket and down the embankment, swore he smelled her lingering apricot scent.

  How could I have been so stupid?

  Over and over their life together played through his mind until he feared he’d go mad from it. Donovan howled. He followed the river for a time and then ran into the thick tree line, wanting to return to London, to her, pour out his heart and say the words of love they both needed to hear, the words that would heal the rift between them and in him. Through every interaction since he’d told her of his beastly side, she’d done nothing but accept him—love him though he’d tried to deny it—and he needed her in his life because she was wonderful.

  For no other reason than he loved her for her, loved and accepted himself now that he saw everything through her eyes. The weight about his shoulders lifted. He hadn’t realized how heavy hating himself had become.

  That was the lesson I had to learn. Now he understood everything, and the scattered pieces of his life clicked into place like a puzzle suddenly coming together.

  He turned, changed his direction toward London, jumping over a fallen tree, skirting around dense shrubbery, his mind wholly absorbed on Alice, the light of his life. Every beat of his heart spoke her name. The terrible pressure in his chest eased. I’m coming, Alice. Please wait for me. I can fix this.

  The sharp lance of acute pain shot up his rear right leg. Something pulled at that limb and halted his movement. With a yelp, Donovan writhed on the forest floor. He glanced over his wolfish shoulder, stunned that his foot was caught in one of the damn metal traps laid throughout the area.

  Well and truly stuck, but thankfully, the ankle wasn’t broken, only mangled, but if he thrashed, it would make matters worse.

  Annoyed, and needing to return to Alice, he shifted into human form. Perhaps he could pry the metal jaws from his ankle and continue on his way. As he feverishly worked, three men came out of the undergrowth, one carrying a shovel, another a pistol. The third, Joe the blacksmith, had no weapons except his fists.

  Damn and blast.

  “Look what we’ve caught,” Joe taunted with a grin that revealed a missing canine tooth. “That fancy duke who stole Miss Morrowe away from me.”

  “Naked bastard,” another man said and spit in his direction. “Thinking you can do whatever you want. Hoping to lure another woman to your bed?”

  The blacksmith smirked. “She didn’t choose him for the size of his prick, did she, boys?”

  Ribald laughter cycled through the group of hoodlums while Donovan glared. There was nothing wrong with the size of his member.

  The third man frowned. “I swore we’d trapped a wolf. Saw him there.”

  Joe stepped forward, yanked Donovan upward with a fist in his hair. Pain streaked through his leg and scalp. “Oh, he’s the wolf all right. Mayhap a demon. I saw him transform with nothing but dark magic.”

  “Unhand me this instant,” Donovan demanded. He threw a punch, but the beefy man easily avoided it, and he retaliated by clipping Donovan on the chin with a blow of his own. Pain exploded through his face. He couldn’t stand fully upright with his ankle caught and preventing leverage.

  “You have no power here.” With a hand still in his hair, Joe brought him so close that the blacksmith’s garlic-scented breath infiltrated his nostrils. “I’ll let you go on one condition.”

  “That would be?” This unnecessary delay might cost him Alice.

  The other’s man’s grin chilled Donovan’s blood. “You give me Miss Morrowe and I’ll let you live, even though you deserve put down like the devil dog you are. We are good folks here and don’t practice your witchcraft.”

  “Absolutely not. She’s mine, and most definitely not a miss any longer.” He couldn’t keep the smugness from his tone. “She is my duchess.” He’d tear this man apart for his insolence, relish sinking his teeth into his flesh. “You will not touch my wife.” A certain amount of pride moved through him because she was indeed his, and once he was free, he’d tell her exactly how that made him feel. Never would he part from her again.

  Go carefully, human. This man will hurt our mate, his wolf cautioned.

  Joe snorted. “You think she’s safe tucked away in London, bearing your name?” He shared a laugh with his cohorts. “Not with you and your evil.”

  “She is under my protection, and I will kill you if you touch her.” Donovan snarled as his wolf strained for action despite the nagging pain in his ankle.

  “Miss Morrowe—

  “Lady Manchester,” Donovan interrupted with a certain amount of cheek.

  The blacksmith continued as if he’d not spoken. “Will come to me soon enough with you as bait. She’s confused and thinks herself in love with the likes of you, the man who ruined her.” He shoved, and Donovan stumbled then fell on his naked arse, jarring his ankle, the chains rattling, the coolness of the ground sinking into his skin. “Once she does, I’ll exchange her for you, and even though she’s been sullied by your dark magic, I’ll still take her to wife. She was mine long before you came along.”

  “Like hell you will.” Rage such as he’d never experienced before slammed into him in a white-hot wall. He summoned the shift, already imagining the forest floor littered with bloody body parts, but before the transformation could take effect, one of the other men slammed the flat of his shovel into the back of Donovan’s head. White stars burst into his vision as a cloud of pain enveloped him.

  As darkness claimed him, he cried out in frustration and agony. Alice, I love you. Please don’t leave me.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Alice delayed her final preparations for as long as she could, hoping against hope that Donovan would run in and tell her the words she desperately needed to hear.

  When he hadn’t, she gave herself over to the numbing pain. Besides, she wished to tell every member of his staff goodbye, and that would take some time, for she knew what it was like to work for little or no recognition. The servants in the townhouse had been everything kind and considerate to her from the moment she’d arrived.

  With Elizabeth’s assistance, Alice sought out each and every member of Donovan’s—her—staff. Some openly shed tears at her parting, some remained stoic but grew visibly upset when she touched their hands or traced their faces with her fingertips. Certainly, it wasn’t what an ordinary duchess would do, but then she wasn’t in the usual style. She never had been what anyone expected, and that was how she’d live the remainder of her life. There was a certain strength in the knowing, but that confidence did nothing to quell the ache in her heart. Donovan had given her many wonderful things, shown her even more, but he’d also made her wary and untrusting. She hated that about herself, but it was another part of growth. The key was in not letting it color everything else.

  Bitterness had no place in her world. It served no defining purpose.

  By the time she’d met with every person the townhouse contained, the purpling shadows of twilight had descended. She could delay no longer. Donovan wasn’t coming for her. It was time to go. Her heart broke anew for them both. Yes, she’d married him knowing he hadn’
t loved her, and when she’d fallen headlong into that glorious state, she’d carried hope about her shoulders like a mantle. Perhaps there was still hope, but it rested on him alone. She couldn’t work through his problems for him.

  “We should gain the road before it grows too dark,” Elizabeth murmured as she took Alice’s arm and led her through the corridors to the entry hall.

  “You’re right.” The suspicious sniffling from Griggs as he rushed to pull open the door for her further added to the torment storming about her heart. “I did so enjoy my time in London, though, when Donovan forgot himself enough to be human.”

  “The irony of it is that he is failing as only a human can,” Elizabeth murmured as she led Alice down the short walkway, through the gate and then to the street where the dark blob of a traveling coach awaited. “I hope he finds peace. It’s all I’ve ever wished for him.” Tears lingered in her voice and she squeezed Alice’s arm. “He deserves that. I’ve tried to help him discover it long before you arrived. But if he’s unwilling…”

  “Yes.”

  “There’s a step up here, Your Grace,” a footman murmured, and she clutched at his gloved hand as he assisted her into the luxurious coach. “Safe journey.” Griggs, who’d followed them, mumbled the same.

  “Thank you.” No sooner had Alice settled onto the squabs than Elizabeth joined her, sitting on the opposite bench. “I am glad you’re coming. I don’t know if I could manage the trip by myself, let alone pick up the pieces of my life.”

  “I want to come. At the moment, I’m out of sorts with my brother.” Her companion heaved a sigh. “And things with Rafe are… awkward. I’m not certain how to navigate suddenly complicated waters with him, so it’s best to remain out of arm’s reach. It isn’t something I’m interested in exploring at this time.” A note of firm closure hung on her tone.

  Alice kept her own counsel, but if fate worked to put Elizabeth and Donovan’s best friend together, it would happen in its own time.

  The pounding rhythm of galloping hooves shattered the silence. Alice craned her neck the better to listen while Elizabeth stood. “Who is that?” Could it be Donovan coming after all? Her heartbeat kicked up as hope glimmered once more.

  “Griggs, what occurs?” Elizabeth inquired of the butler who still stood waiting at the open coach door.

  “A courier, Lady Elizabeth. One moment.” He stepped away, exchanged a few words with the man. Agitation filtered through both of their voices, and then the butler directed the other man to rest his horse and find sustenance in the kitchens. Seconds later, Griggs reappeared at the coach door.

  “Is it regarding Donovan?” Alice asked as icy foreboding circled through her insides.

  “Yes, Your Grace, and there is a missive.”

  Elizabeth sat heavily upon her bench. “Let me see.” Paper rustled and scratched as her sister-in-law freed a note from an envelope. She gasped. “Oh, dear Lord.”

  Anxiety clawed at Alice’s throat. “Read it, please.” What had happened to her husband? Had he run from the townhouse in wolf form? His mindset had certainly not been sound when they’d parted. “Elizabeth?” She thrust out a hand, and it was Griggs who clutched her fingers in his gloved hand.

  “It is but a short note, yet powerful if written somewhat crudely, so I will fill in the blanks,” she breathed. “‘If you wish to see the duke again, come to Shalford or else we will kill the beast he truly is and then spread the tale of his evilness far and wide.’” A sob left Elizabeth’s throat. “Someone in Shalford has taken my brother hostage, and for whatever reason, they know of his true nature.” The fear in her voice fed Alice’s. Silence fell over them.

  “How did they figure out his secret?” Alice asked and hated the quake in her tone.

  “Perhaps he accidentally called forth the shift and someone saw.”

  Oh, no. “Or he was challenged, and gripped with high emotion, he couldn’t help it. Perhaps he is in more peril than the note indicates.” She clung to Griggs’ hand. “I cannot lose him, Elizabeth. Not now, not like this.” The two of them were still broken, hadn’t had the chance to heal, and some of the people in Shalford were superstitious and ignorant. They could easily put him down if he still retained his wolfish form. “I have to go.”

  “But, Your Grace, it will soon be dark,” the butler protested as he released her hand. “The roads are dangerous.”

  “No more dangerous than my ire knowing that the people I lived among for so many years have committed such a trespass against my husband.” Strength infused her voice and she straightened her spine. Feeling every inch the duchess she was, Alice said, “I need Thomas. Go fetch him. He’s coming with me. Then send a message to the Earl of Devon. He’ll want to help. After that, Griggs, I need you to prepare for any contingency.” Power and a new look at life coursed through her veins. “I will bring the duke home. I swear it.”

  Griggs gasped. “Is there nothing you cannot do, my lady?”

  Despite the horror of the circumstances, she laughed, and the sound dispelled some of the tension riding her shoulders. “I suppose we shall find out together.” As the butler departed, Alice leaned across the aisle and grabbed one of Elizabeth’s hands. “You can come or stay here, but I intend to rescue Donovan.”

  “Oh, Alice, you are a jewel.” Elizabeth launched herself at Alice and hugged her. “I will come, of course, and then I’ll tell everyone in the ton how brave and heroic you are.” She loosed a shuddering sigh as she returned to her seat. “So much more courageous than I.”

  Alice allowed a tiny smile. “You simply haven’t reached a place in your life where you are willing to risk everything you are for another person.”

  “You’ve not only changed my brother, but you are urging me into a better person as well.” There was no doubting the smile in the other woman’s voice.

  Nothing else was said, for Thomas arrived at the coach’s door. “I’m in your service, Your Grace.”

  “Good. Come. Share the coach with me and Lady Elizabeth. We must plan.” She scooted over on her bench.

  “My lady, it isn’t done,” he protested.

  She uttered something that sounded suspiciously like one of Donovan’s growls, and then unsuccessfully stifled a giggle. “There is no time for class separation or proper manners at the moment, Thomas. We must go.”

  Once the young man came inside and swung the door closed, Alice gave an amended address to the driver and they were off.

  Only then did fear creep in on her, almost paralyzing in its coldness. She had no plan. In fact, she didn’t know what she’d do once they arrived in Shalford. For all her earlier bravado, she was blind and it would be nightfall, and if the men who had Donovan were armed… Alice swallowed down the urge to cry. If this was to be her last stand, her final effort to win back her husband, then so be it. And if he truly didn’t love her, she would wish him well—and perhaps to the devil—for his foolishness, but this was something she must do.

  For them.

  Once in Shalford, Alice’s nerves crawled. The light of the new moon didn’t lend much illumination. For the moment, Elizabeth and Thomas remained in the coach, which had been parked in the woods and hopefully not prematurely announce their arrival. They would spring out when or if negotiations turned dire.

  Alice, in the meanwhile, had directed the driver to let her out on the public road in front of the mill. She would mount her attack from that direction and hopefully throw off the oafs who’d taken her husband. Nearly sick with fear, she followed the hard-packed dirt road toward what appeared to be flickering torches but resembled orange and yellow dancing blobs to her. The closer she drew to the meeting place—near the woods and river where Donovan had saved her from the blacksmith’s embrace seemingly so long ago—the buzz of angry voices led her onward.

  The flare of a bonfire near the tree stand confused her and burst upon her compromised vision with a brightness that stole her breath. She would make her stand here until she could take stock of the full situat
ion. In a voice that shook, she demanded, “What is the meaning of this?”

  A warning cry went out, followed by shouts from a few other men, and then Joe stepped forward out of the clinging darkness.

  “Always so dutiful, Alice. Coming when called.”

  She narrowed her eyes as another man with a torch joined them. “And you are as repugnant as I expected. How dare you perpetrate something of this magnitude?”

  “Fancy words won’t reunite you with your devil duke any quicker,” he warned and exchanged a laugh with his fellow.

  “I want to see my husband.”

  Joe snorted. “Stupid girl. You can’t see anything.”

  Alice curled one hand into a fist. She’d removed her gloves in the coach, wishing for practical over proper. “I refuse to talk further with you until you take me to the duke, so if it’s me that you want, you’d best do what I ask.” Fear careened down her spine as did sweat, which plastered her shift and petticoat to her back despite the autumnal chill in the air.

  The blacksmith snorted. “Fine. So many airs from a woman who is nothing.”

  The other man grabbed her upper arm and roughly marched her toward the wooded area, skirting the bonfire. Out of the vast darkness, a lighter blob came into her compromised vision and she held her breath. “I’ll give you two minutes. No more, and even that’s too good for the likes of ‘im.” The man shoved her in the blob’s direction.

  She stumbled, tripping over her skirts, and as her heartbeat raced a frantic tattoo, Alice approached what she now saw as her husband against the wide trunk of a tree. “Donovan?” She didn’t stop until she laid hands on him. Once more he was as naked as the day she’d met him. The metallic scent of blood invaded her nostrils as did the wild, primal smell of him that she’d come to associate as his wolf. “You’re hurt.”