by Candace Camp
“And that, Dearborn, is where you are mistaken.”
* * *
EVERYONE IN THE room whirled around to see Alex standing in the doorway, leaning casually against the frame, his arms crossed. There was a trace of a smile on his lips, but it was as cold as his eyes. “You see, I fully intend to marry Miss Blair.”
“You! You—You’re—” Dearborn spluttered.
“What?” Alex raised an eyebrow. “Did you really think you could contain me there?”
“Alex! Oh, Alex!” Sabrina broke from her momentary paralysis and ran to him, throwing her arms around his waist, and he curled his arms around her.
Con grinned at his twin. “What took you so long?”
“Sorry. I was a bit delayed.” Alex returned an identical smile. “Hope I didn’t inconvenience you.”
“Not a bit,” Con said cheerfully. “I was just about to have a conversation with this chap.” He glanced contemptuously at Dearborn. “You saved me a scraped knuckle or two. What do you say? Shall Tom and I take him to jail for you?”
“Jail!” Dearborn looked thunderstruck.
“What did you think would happen to you?” Alex set Sabrina aside and stalked toward the man. “You’ve abused the trust Sabrina’s father placed in you and have been bilking his estate for years. You abducted me. Worse, you abducted my future wife. You drugged her. You and your son concocted a scheme to fool her into thinking she had married him. Your cur of a son hit her. She had to run for her life from the two of you. I don’t really want to put you in jail. I’d like to kill you.”
Rage contorted Dearborn’s face, and he leaped at Alex. Alex met his rush, looking, Sabrina thought with some astonishment, pleased. Raising his left arm to block Dearborn’s wild swing, Alex punched him in the stomach. As Dearborn doubled over, the air whooshing out of him, Alex hit him with an uppercut to his chin, and the man went down in a heap.
“Stop! No! He’s an old man!” Peter cried, rushing over to his father and kneeling beside him, propping him up as Dearborn struggled to breathe.
Alex squatted down and looked into Peter’s face, his eyes blazing. “Listen to me. Listen well. I have proof of every crime I just listed. Not only Sabrina’s word or mine. I have written evidence of the many times Dearborn embezzled money from Sabrina’s fund. And your friend Fairfield signed a confession.”
“What?” Peter’s jaw dropped.
Alex smiled faintly at Peter’s alarm. “Nothing would give me greater pleasure than to toss your father and you in prison and let you rot. But for Sabrina’s sake, and that alone—because her father was Dearborn’s friend, because of the affectionate regard she holds for your mother, because I will not have any scandal even touch Sabrina’s good name—I don’t intend to press charges against him or you...yet.”
Peter looked at him sullenly. “What do you mean, yet? Do you intend to make us suffer, wondering when you will ruin us?”
“No, that’s the way you and he would think, not I. I won’t reveal any of this as long as you meet my conditions. You take him to your home in the country. You stay away from me and mine. You say nothing of any of this, and you never, ever come anywhere near Sabrina or attempt to contact her again. Am I clear?”
Peter nodded, clenching his jaw. “I understand.”
“I hope you do. Because if I hear of any scandal regarding my future wife, if there is even the slightest bit of gossip about Sabrina, if you ever so much as speak to her again, I will come down on you like the wrath of God. Your name will be ruined, and you and your father will spend the rest of your lives in prison.”
Alex held his gaze until Peter dropped his eyes. Alex stood up and turned to the others. “I think we’re done here.”
* * *
ON THE CARRIAGE ride home, Alex regaled them with the story of his capture and imprisonment, and because of Lilah’s presence, he carefully omitted all mention of his unusual ability. Con, frowning slightly, said, “Yes, but I don’t understand. How did you lure him to open the door?”
“I pretended to be ill.” Alex sent his twin a look.
Con’s eyebrows flew up and he settled back in his seat, then said, “Ah. I see now.”
“What about you?” Alex asked, directing the conversation away from that precarious subject. “How did the three of you wind up there?”
“Sabrina went running to the Dearborns to save you,” Lilah began.
“I got a letter from them,” Sabrina explained. “Just a note and your cuff link.” She held it out to him.
“I wondered where that had gotten to.” Alex plucked it from her fingers, his eyes warm on hers. “So you went to sacrifice yourself to obtain my release.”
“Well, I hoped to discover your location from them somehow and rescue you before I had to go that far.”
“It was terribly dangerous. I’m sorry you were worried so.”
“You’ll find Alex manages to extricate himself from the places he keeps getting locked up in.” Con grinned at his brother. “At least no jumping across roofs this time, eh?”
“No. I was grateful. I’m no longer as agile as I was at ten.”
“But how did you and Con and Mr. Quick come to be there?” Sabrina asked Lilah.
“Did you think I would let you throw yourself into the fire? I sent a note to Con’s office, telling him where to go, and then I went after you. Just as I was leaving, Con ran up, shouting that something had happened to Alex.”
“I had one of those stabs of twin-ship.” Con glanced at Alex. “You know.”
“I do. I hoped you might.”
“I was in a meeting with the old man’s agent, pinning him down on the illegal payments, and suddenly it hit me. I jumped up and took off. No doubt he’s convinced I’m quite mad now.”
Lilah continued the story. “I told Con where Sabrina had gone, and we jumped in a hack. Tom had gotten my note, and since Con was not there, he came himself. He got there while Con was arguing with the footman at the door.” She turned toward Con. “I still think you could have gained entrance without resorting to violence.”
“It wouldn’t have been nearly as satisfying,” Con retorted.
Sabrina jumped in to forestall an argument, saying, “Here we are. Oh, look, Megan and Theo are hailing a hack.” She paused, then added, “Um, Theo is carrying a gun.”
Alex stuck his head out the window to flag down the couple. “No need! Stay there.”
“How do they know where to go?” Lilah asked, staring in some astonishment.
“No doubt Phipps told them,” Con said lightly. “Nothing happens in that house that Phipps doesn’t know.”
It took some time to explain everything that had happened to the gathered members of the household. Leaving Con to describe the final scene, Alex slipped from the room, drawing Sabrina away with him. He led her down the hall and into the secluded room where she and Lilah had listened in on the Dearborns’ conversation. There he did what he had been longing to do from the moment he’d entered the Dearborns’ house. He pulled Sabrina to him and kissed her, then simply held her tightly.
“I was so scared when I got back here and Phipps told me where you had gone. I hoped Con would reach you in time, but I was scared you would jump into something dreadful to save me.” He pulled back and gave her a stern look. “Don’t ever do that again. Promise me. Con’s right. I’m like a cat. I’ll always manage to find a way out.”
Sabrina chuckled, but he could hear the tears in her voice. “I can’t promise that.” She tightened her arms around him for a moment, then sighed and said, “Oh, Alex...what a coil this is. You must know I will not hold you to your announcement of marrying me.”
Alex went cold inside and his arms fell away. “Of course. I’m sorry. I didn’t intend to obligate you.”
She nodded, stepping back and wiping away a tear.
Alex forced himself
to go on. “I—I know that you are young, and it would be foolish to commit yourself. You need time to gauge your feelings. To have fun, meet other men and...” He could not manage to get anything else out.
“Meet other men? Why would I want to do that?”
“Well, you know...because you have a choice now. You can decide what you want to do freely, no longer under pressure from Dearborn. And away from the excitement and emotion of this moment, as well.” He smiled at her faintly, though his heart ached at releasing her. “But I must warn you, Sabrina, I won’t give up. I mean to court you, to win your heart.”
Sabrina stared. “Win my heart! What are you talking about? You have already done that.”
Alex gazed back at her, nonplussed. “But you just said you didn’t want to marry me simply because I told Dearborn I was going to.”
“Well, of course I don’t want to marry you because you said that!” she responded, putting her hands on her hips. “Who would want to marry for such a reason? I don’t want to...to use your sense of duty and obligation to trap you into a marriage you don’t want.”
“Don’t want! Sabrina—”
She rushed on over his words, pacing about. “I realize you cannot marry me. My name, my lineage, is not at all what one expects for a duke’s son, and even if you’ve scared the Dearborns into not revealing any of this, it wouldn’t be surprising if something leaked out. There have been many people who have seen us together—think of all the people at that party who witnessed the scene with the Dearborns. Not to mention servants and innkeepers and—” She swept her hands out in a vague gesture of inclusion.
“Sabrina, stop.” Alex grabbed her hands in his and pulled her to a halt. “Listen to me. None of that matters to me. You must know that. I’m a Moreland. I have never been conventional, and I never shall. I don’t care about your name or lineage, and I doubt very much you could make my family more scandalous than they already are.”
“But you said—”
“I said I don’t want to force you or maneuver you into marrying me because of what I said—or because of anything else. It’s not my choice—it’s yours. I don’t have a choice—I love you.”
She stood stock-still, gazing at him in surprise. “What?”
“I love you.” He looked at her quizzically. “Surely you must know that.”
“But you never said anything. You said I would be free to leave—and you didn’t even say you would be sorry to see me go!”
“I couldn’t take advantage of you, tie you to me when you were caught up in the emotion of the moment. Because you were grateful.”
“I’m not! I mean, well, of course I am grateful for all your help, but that isn’t why I love you!”
Alex’s heart seemed to roll at her words, and he had to fight for cool rationality. “You’re young—you have no experience with the world. You don’t know—”
“If you tell me I don’t know what I want, I shall scream.” Sabrina jerked her hands from his. “I don’t care if I won’t be twenty-one for another week. It doesn’t matter that I’ve lived a quiet life. I know perfectly well what I want. And what I want is you!” She crossed her arms and glared at him.
Alex began to laugh, then reached out and pulled her to him. “I think perhaps we are being extremely silly.”
Sabrina resisted for a moment, trying to keep up her glare, but she gave in and began to laugh, going into his arms. “You never told me.”
“You never told me,” he countered.
“How could I tell you my feelings when I didn’t know if you returned them?”
“Then let me make myself clear,” Alex said in a determined tone. “I love you. I loved you the moment I saw you. I have never felt with any woman what I feel for you. Without you I will never be whole again.”
“Oh, Alex.” Sabrina took his hands in hers, gazing up at him with eyes filled with love. “Don’t you see? We are already joined, you and I. When you were gone, you were still in here.” She laid her hand over her heart. “You will always be here. And I refuse to wait a few years just to suit appearances. You may be unwilling to push me, but I am not so delicate. Alexander Moreland, will you marry me?”
“Spoken like a true Moreland female.” Laughing, Alex picked up Sabrina and swung her around in a joyous circle. “Of course I will marry you.” He set her down and looked into her eyes. “I love you more than words can say...though I assure you I will say them all anyway.”
“And I love you.”
“Well, then...” His eyes gleamed devilishly. “I think it’s time we stopped talking. Don’t you?”
* * * * *
Don’t miss the next installment in the captivating MAD MORELANDS series from New York Times bestselling author Candace Camp!
Keep reading for an excerpt from HIS WICKED CHARM by Candace Camp.
His Wicked Charm
by Candace Camp
Prologue
THE DOOR OPENED. The room beyond lay in darkness, broken only by a swath of moonlight. There was no reason to be frightened, yet some nameless, faceless terror iced Con’s veins. Still, he stepped inside. The fear behind him was worse.
The walls of the room were curved, disorienting, and everywhere he looked were clocks—standing, hanging, scattered over tables and stands, lined up in cabinets. Brass hands winked, catching the dim light. He moved farther in, his heart pounding, and stopped at a narrow table. The tiered rows were padded with dark velvet, and it was lined, with not clocks, but compasses, their needles pointing in unison toward the windows. Turning now, he saw that compasses stood in the cabinets and hung on the walls amid the clocks.
He was too late. He knew it with a certainty that closed his throat: he would fail. Con ran toward the window, but he didn’t move. The needles on the compasses began to whirl. Running, gasping, he reached out, knowing he’d never reach it in time. Someone screamed.
Con’s eyes flew open, and he jerked upright in the bed. His lungs labored in his chest, his heart thundering, and his muscles clenched, fists curled so tightly his fingernails bit into his palms. Sweat dried cold on his skin.
It was a dream.
He glanced around him. He was in his own bed, in his own room. Only a dream.
Through the open doorway into the adjoining sitting room, he could see Wellie perched in his cage, regarding Con with bright black eyes. That scream must have been the parrot’s screech.
The bird moved from foot to foot and rasped out, “Wellie. Good bird.”
“Yes. Good bird.” Con’s voice came out almost as hoarse as Wellington’s. He sank back onto his pillow, closing his eyes. It had been nothing but a bad dream and easily explained—today was Alex’s wedding day. He was worried about oversleeping and failing in his duties. The problem was: he’d been having the exact same nightmare for weeks.
Chapter One
WHEN CON AWOKE AGAIN, sunlight was shooting through a crack in the drapes straight into his eye. For the second time he bolted upright. Heaven help him. After all that, he’d overslept. He jumped out of bed, then began to shave.
Wellington called out Con’s name and flew into the room, taking up his favorite position atop a bedpost. “You wretched bird—screeching like a banshee in the middle of the night, yet not a word when it’s time to get up.
Wellie let out a noise that sounded disturbingly like human laughter. Con grinned and patted his shoulder for Wellie to perch on it. Con stroked a finger down the parrot’s back.
“It’s just you and me now, boy,” he said softly. “Alex is going on to better things.”
There was an odd pang in his chest; Con had felt it more than once lately. He couldn’t be happier for his twin—Sabrina was perfect for Alex and loved him madly. Alex was over the moon about marrying her. There was nothing in the world Con wanted more than his brother’s happiness. And yet...he could not help but feel as if
a piece of him was leaving.
With a sigh at his own selfishness, Con set Wellie aside and headed downstairs. He found Alex in the dining room, gazing out the window—shaved, dressed and ready to go eight hours before the ceremony. Casting an eye over his twin, Con said, “Eager or terrified?”
“A little of both.” Alex let out his breath in a whoosh. “Thank God you’re finally up.”
“Why didn’t you wake me?” Con asked, going to the sideboard to fill his plate.
“Because it was four o’clock in the morning. Wellie woke me up screeching, and I couldn’t go back to sleep. I didn’t think you’d care to be awakened.”
“Where is everyone?”
“The women have headed to Kyria’s to help with the last-minute preparations. Though what any of them could do to set up a party, I cannot imagine.”
“Mm. Maybe Thisbe has a formula for it.”
Alex grinned. “Or Megan and Olivia have investigated the subject.”
“I’m sure Mother will enjoy trying to persuade the servants to strike.” Con returned to the table.
Alex took a seat across from his twin. “Not like Wellie to sound off in the middle of the night like that. One has to wonder what set him off.”
“Does one?”
“Con...did you have that dream again?”
“Yes. It’s not important.”
Alex grunted softly. “It certainly doesn’t seem to have affected your appetite.”
“Little does.” Con gestured toward the pristine expanse of table in front of Alex. “What about you? Have you eaten anything?”
“I had a cup of coffee.”
“No doubt that will calm you down.”
Alex rolled his eyes and went over to pull a piece of toast from the rack. “You’re not going to distract me from your dream.”
“I know. But there’s nothing new to tell. It’s the same dream I’ve had five times now. I’m in a bizarre round room. There are clocks and compasses everywhere, and I have this feeling of absolute dread.” He paused. “Maybe it’s panic rather than dread. I feel as if I’m late. I’m sure it’s just because of the wedding. I’m worried about not getting to the jeweler’s in time for the ring. Keeping this family in line. Being late to the church. All that.”