To Protect An Heiress (Zebra Historical Romance)

by Adrienne Basso

  “Remember,” Trevor admonished. “Be as quiet as you can. An element of surprise might make all the difference.”

  Yet all their efforts at entering the room soundlessly were for naught. The moment they swung the door open, Harriet screamed.

  “Hawkins!” Julian Wingate cried out in astonishment. “What the devil is going on?”

  The man Wingate called Hawkins grabbed a fistful of Harriet’s hair and yanked her head back. “Make a move toward me and I’ll slit her throat.”

  “Who is this man?” Trevor cried out in anger.

  “My valet,” Wingate replied.

  “What?” Both Jason and the marquess turned in astonishment to Wingate.

  The other man shrugged his shoulders helplessly. “Believe me, I am just as shocked as you. Perhaps more. He has never before exhibited such rash behavior.

  “Hawkins, step away from Miss Harriet this instant,” Wingate commanded.

  “My God, he has tied Elizabeth to that chair,” Jason declared in shocked tones.

  Trevor’s eyes frantically searched the room for Meredith. She stood behind Hawkins, directly in front of Elizabeth, who was indeed tied to the chair. Meredith’s face was pale in the dim candlelight, her eyes alight with stark fear. She seemed unharmed, but there was a hopeless expression on her lovely face that cut him to the quick.

  “ ’Tis three against one, Hawkins,” Trevor called out in anger. “End it now while you can.”

  Hawkins’s mouth curled in a sneer. “I am the one holding the knife, my lord. And the women.”

  “Bloody hell, he’s your servant, Wingate,” Jason said. “Do something.”

  Wingate drew in a tight breath. “What do you suggest? He has a knife pressed to Harriet’s throat. If we rush him, she will be harmed before we reach her side.”

  Trevor fought the urge to step forward. He knew Wingate was right. And if Harriet were cut, it seemed likely Meredith would be his next target.

  “What do you want, Hawkins?” Trevor asked. “Money?”

  Hawkins broke into a slow, cruel, taunting smile. “How very foolish you are, my lord. I want only to complete my mission, and nothing any of you do will stop me.”

  “What is your mission?” Jason asked.

  “I punish those who are undeserving.”

  “You are a coward, full of bluff and pretense,” Trevor said with contempt. “I demand you put down that knife immediately and step away from the women.”

  “Pretense!” Hawkins lifted his head higher and straightened his spine. His eyes blazed as he pressed the tip of the knife into Harriet’s throat. “You are a lackwit, my lord, who does not understand the importance of my calling.”

  Meredith flung the marquess a despairing look. “Be careful, Trevor. He has killed before. Someone we knew. Someone we loved.”

  “Yes,” Hawkins proclaimed with pride. “Even though it was a small mistake, I took great delight in ending the life of your first wife, Lord Dardington—though I know I shall enjoy it far more when I kill your current wife.”

  Hawkins’s words rang in Trevor’s head, and a myriad of questions followed. The man was clearly deranged. Was his outrageous claim the workings of a sick mind?

  “It is true,” Meredith said in a broken whisper. “He meant to kill me all those years ago, but poor Lavinia died in my place. ’Tis almost too horrible to imagine. Oh, please forgive me, Trevor.” Meredith bit back a sob, a mournful sound that tore at the marquess’s heart.

  He glanced at his brother-in-law Jason’s features were set like granite, but his eyes never strayed from Elizabeth’s still form. If only they could distract Hawkins, they might be able to disarm him without the women being injured.

  “We need to take control of this situation, Wingate,” Trevor whispered. “When I take a step closer, I want you to shove me, but not too hard. If we break Hawkins’s concentration, we might be able to overpower him.”

  Wingate nodded in understanding. Trevor balanced on the balls of his feet, waiting for the other man to act. Everything seemed to move with infinite slowness as Wingate knocked into him. Hawkins blinked in surprise and relaxed his hold on Harriet.

  She bravely took advantage of her captor’s momentary distraction and wrenched herself free. Enraged, Hawkins went straight for Elizabeth, who was tied helplessly to the chair. The blade flashed in the candlelight as he menacingly raised his arm. Trevor moved, but Jason was much quicker.

  With a cry of anguish, Jason hurled himself forward, thrusting his body between Elizabeth and the knife. Trevor braced himself for the spurt of blood that was sure to follow, but Jason reached up and grasped the villain’s wrist with both hands.

  The room soon filled with the grunts and groans of the combatants as they struggled for possession of the deadly blade. In a wild tangle of arms and legs, they landed on the floor, twisting and turning as each man struggled for dominance.

  It was impossible to tell who was winning. Then, suddenly, Jason yanked his arm free and let fly a hard jab to Hawkins’s jaw. It stunned the servant momentarily, allowing Jason, who lay flat on his back, to gain sole possession of the knife.

  Before Trevor or Wingate could lend assistance, Hawkins recovered his wits. He gave a roar of pure animal fury and lunged forward to attack. In defense, Jason raised the angle of the knife the last second before impact.

  Hawkins screamed in agony, his face registering pain and shock as the blade pierced him through the heart. With a final curse, he crumpled to the ground beside Jason, clutching his chest. It was stained crimson.

  The room was still with silence.

  “My God, I think I’ve killed him,” Jason finally croaked.

  “Good,” Harriet declared vehemently as she backed away from the inert form. A darker pool of blood was forming on the wooden floor, encircling Hawkins’s lifeless body.

  Reacting with primitive need, Trevor raced to Meredith’s side, pulling her into his arms. More than anything, he needed to feel the warmth of her flesh against his, to assure himself she was truly unharmed.

  She was breathless and shaking. “I knew you would come,” she said. “Somehow I knew you would find us. Would save us. I never doubted it, even when I was most fearful.”

  A shudder ran through her body. Trevor hugged her closer. Meredith lifted her palms to her eyes and pressed hard to keep back the tears. “Oh, poor Harriet,” she said when she lowered her hands. “I think she has gone into shock.”

  The marquess turned and saw Harriet slump down on the floor, wrap her arms around her stomach and rock slowly back and forth. Her hair had fallen forward, hiding her face, but her shaking shoulders were clear evidence of her silent weeping.

  “Please, Trevor go to her,” Meredith whispered.

  He tightened his hold on his wife, not wanting to leave her side for an instant. “Where is Wingate?”

  “He has gone to get help. Jason is caring for Elizabeth. Please, there is no one else.”

  “And what of you?”

  She smiled bravely. “I am much better, but Harriet is suffering so much.”

  Letting Meredith slip out of his embrace took a tremendous amount of courage. Before leaving he bent his head and pressed a kiss to her temple. “If you have need of me, just call.”

  She nodded. Trevor walked to the opposite side of the room to see about Harriet. She stopped rocking and lifted a tear-streaked face to him. “Julian?” she asked, her voice choked with tears.

  “He has gone for assistance,” Trevor said softly. “Please allow me to sit with you while we await his return.”

  The hesitant way she reached for his hand made Trevor realize Meredith was right. Poor Harriet was on the verge of total hysteria.

  Fortunately, help arrived very shortly. A bevy of males entered the room noisily. Several burly servants accompanied Wingate, along with a somberly dressed gray-haired gentleman whom he identified as the local magistrate.

  Hawkins’s body was removed. Once it was gone, Elizabeth lifted herself off Jason
’s lap and practically fell into Harriet’s arms. The two sisters hugged each other fiercely, crying like young girls. Jason remained at Elizabeth’s side, patting her shoulder awkwardly and hovering protectively.

  Trevor turned to retrieve Meredith, wanting nothing more than to gather his wife in his arms and get her safely home. Yet as his gaze settled on the far wall, he received a most unpleasant shock. The marquess’s heart jolted as bands of panic tightened around his chest until he could barely breathe.

  Meredith was no longer in the room. She was gone.

  Twenty

  Fortunately, the duke’s butler was crossing the foyer when the marquess came charging though the mansion’s front doors, frantically shouting Meredith’s name. The servant calmly informed him his wife had only just arrived and was in her rooms. Without waiting to hear anything else, a much relieved Trevor thundered up the stairs.

  The bedchamber was in complete disarray as he burst inside. Gowns, walking dresses, slips, corsets, chemises, gloves, hats, stockings were all piled haphazardly on the bed. He stared at them in surprise, telling himself not to jump to any unfounded conclusions.

  Meredith emerged from the sitting room, her arms ladened with a bundle of garments. She froze the moment she saw him, dropping a gown and some fluffy white underthings.

  “I am sorry,” she whispered. Bending low, Meredith gathered up the fallen garments and pressed them close to her chest. “I had hoped to be finished with all of this before you returned.”

  “What are you doing?”

  “Packing.” She dropped the clothes she held in her arms on the bed and turned to the armoire for more. “I promise to be gone by morning.”

  Trevor’s mouth went dry. The fear he had experienced upon learning Meredith was in danger was a mere ripple compared to the wave of terror that now washed through him.

  “You are leaving me?”

  She would not answer, nor would she meet his eyes. She just kept bringing out more and more garments and tossing them on the bed with frantic, jerking motions. Several strands of hair had escaped from her coiffeur and were dangling against the side of her neck. The gown she wore was wrinkled and slightly disheveled from her efforts.

  He stepped directly in her path, blocking her route to the armoire. She shifted left, trying to go around him. Trevor countered to his right, effectively impeding her. She groaned and tried again, but again he prevented her progress.

  “I know you must hate me.” She paused, then finally lifted her head. Her eyes were dull and sad, her breathing quick and shallow. “I do not blame you for these feelings, yet I cannot stay and be reminded of all the grief I have wrought upon you. ’Tis too much for me to bear.”

  “Meredith, please. What are you saying?”

  “What can I say? You were there. You heard it, too, every horrible, ugly word of truth.” He reached for her, but she evaded his hands. “Me, Trevor! It was me Hawkins meant to kill that afternoon at the duchess’s party. Not Lavinia. By all rights ’tis I who should be dead, not her.”

  Just the mention of Meredith’s death brought a hot, jabbing ache squarely to his heart. Was that truly what she believed? “I forbid you to speak such rubbish.”

  “Why? ’Tis the truth.”

  This time she succeeded in stepping around him to fling another garment on the bed. Tears leaked silently from her eyes. Trevor wanted only to gather her close in his arms and ease her pain, but the note of hysteria in her voice bade him to be cautious.

  “Lavinia was wearing my shawl that afternoon at the duchess’s party,” Meredith continued in a low, quivering voice. “Hawkins had come to the estate with one purpose in mind, to punish me for rejecting his employer’s proposal of marriage. When he saw from a distance a woman wearing the shawl he knew I favored, he attacked.”

  “That is hardly your fault,” Trevor said quietly.

  “You don’t understand, I made her wear the shawl!”

  Trevor was momentarily shocked into silence. He reached again for her, but Meredith shook her head and backed away.

  “It was not very cool that afternoon, but Lavinia had been shivering. I was concerned about her health, and the baby’s—” Meredith’s face suddenly crumpled. “The unborn infant! I had forgotten about that small, precious life. Oh, how can you even bear to be in the same room with me?”

  There was no mistaking the agony on her face. He could almost feel the heavy weight of her torment, and it increased the grief in his own heart until it was almost unbearable. “How can you blame yourself?”

  “How can I not?” Her lips twisted. “I thought I was so smug, so righteous in my attitude that I was different from other women in Society. I disregarded expectations, flaunted convention, refused so many honorable offers of marriage that first Season. Oh, yes, I happily broke all the rules, yet it was Lavinia who paid the price. With her life.”

  The marquess could not credit what he was hearing. “You cannot believe that if you had married Julian Wingate this might have been avoided?”

  Meredith turned her head and gazed blindly across the room. “I am not certain. But if I had accepted an offer of marriage that first Season, Hawkins might have forgotten about me. I might not have offended him so greatly, angered him to the point where he would do murder to put me in my place.”

  “Stop it, Meredith. Listen to what you are saying.” Trevor clenched his hands into fists by his side, fearing he would reach for her again and upset her even more. “Your emotions have overridden your common sense. You are not responsible for Lavinia’s death.”

  “I am,” she whispered brokenly. “I am.”

  He laid a finger across her lips. Her body went rigid. “Heed my words, for I speak the truth, Meredith. This was not your doing. Hawkins, and only Hawkins, is accountable to the law and to God for all the horror he has wreaked upon this world. Including Lavinia’s death.”

  Meredith’s eyes flared in protest. She stared at him wildly for several long moments, and Trevor braced himself for the arguments that were sure to come. But then her golden eyelashes flickered, her shoulders slumped forwards and without further warning Meredith burst into sobs.

  Slowly the marquess edged forward. She cried out when he reached for her, but was too distraught to put up much of a fight. He gathered her in his arms and held her tightly, absorbing her trembling sobs.

  Trevor’s eyes slid closed. Lord, it felt so right to hold her. He wished he could take away her suffering, could bear the burden of this horrifying pain himself.

  “It should have been me,” she sobbed.

  “Ah, darling. Do not say such things.” He tightened his hold as her body started trembling. “It was a terrible, cruel twist of fate. I will not allow you to unfairly blame yourself. Please, Meredith. For my sake, you must put this from your mind.”

  She lifted her tear-streaked face. “How can you be so kind and comforting to me?”

  He pressed his lips lightly against hers. “Dearest Meredith, I have loved but two women in my lifetime. Hawkins took the first from me. I will not allow him to take the second.”

  There was stunned disbelief in the two watery blue eyes that stared up at him. “You cannot possibly love me.”

  Trevor’s face split into an enormous grin. Revealing his heart had brought him a tremendous sense of peace and joy—and had also managed to stop his wife’s tears. Whoever said love could work miracles certainly had it right.

  He kissed her forehead and murmured, “Oh, but I do love you, Meredith.”

  The sorrow and pain etched on her lovely face were slowly replaced by a warm gleam of hope and amazement. “Are you certain?”

  “Very.” He hugged her fiercely. “Though my behavior since our marriage has hardly demonstrated it, there have always been deep feelings whenever I was near you. I did not understand what they were or why they made me so wild until I realized I might lose you.”

  “You love me.” She repeated the words to herself slowly, and Trevor smiled with tenderness.

&n
bsp; “Yes, and because of that love you cannot leave me.” He stroked her hair. “My actions of the past have proven me unworthy of your affections, yet I vow I shall do all within my power, for as long as I live, to bring your heart to mine.”

  The edges of her lips curved up mysteriously. “I cannot give you something that already belongs to you, my lord.”

  He cupped her cheek with his hand and tilted her chin until their lips touched. It was a sweet, tender kiss full of love. “Meredith.”

  “Trevor.” She gave him a heart-melting smile.

  His chest tightened. “You are everything that was missing from my life. I buried myself away when I lost Lavinia, turning my back on all I had in an effort to forget. Then one evening you lured me out to a secluded section of the garden and kissed me senseless.”

  Meredith dipped her chin and blushed. “Please, do not remind me. I still cannot fathom what possessed me to help my brothers win that ridiculous bet.”

  “Fate.” He lifted her hand and nibbled gently on each fingertip. “It has given me a second chance at happiness, and I shall not tempt its wisdom.”

  “Oh, Trevor, what right do we have to happiness considering all that has happened?”

  He enfolded her again in his embrace, needing to feel the warmth of her body against his.

  “We will never forget the past, but we cannot let it deny our future. Lavinia taught us both what it means to have a giving heart. What better way to honor that legacy than to share our hearts with each other?”

  Meredith went very still, then shuddered with soul-deep emotion. The soft light in her eyes reflected her love and her overwhelming need, but most importantly it held the promise of the future.

  Trevor bent his head to kiss her cheek, but Meredith deliberately moved, and he kissed her on the lips instead. It was a kiss that was carnal and seductive, speaking of her needs as well as desires. It made Trevor catch his breath.

  “I have thrown most of my wardrobe about the chamber and in the process made a total mess of my bed,” Meredith whispered when he finally pulled away. “I doubt we could even find the mattress under that mountain of clothing.”