The Scoundrel Who Loved Me

by Laura Landon

  “No,” Lawrence begged. “No…” He reached out to catch hold of her, but she stumbled away. She had to leave. There was no other way to protect him from Al-Zahrani—or Avery, for that matter.

  “Forgive me, Lawrence.” She could barely speak past the pain in her throat as she pulled away from him.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Avery met Zehra halfway across the ballroom and gripped her by the arm. She flinched, not from pain, but from the memory of the night the auctioneer had grabbed her the same way. Not as a person, but as a thing.

  “Avery, you cannot do this!” Lawrence said, his tone full of fury and panic. “If you send her back, Zehra will face slavery again.”

  Avery shook his head. “I assure you, the slavers are dealt with, both here and abroad. And I warned you this had to be done.”

  “Yes, in a week,” Lawrence fired back. “That time has still not passed. Why this sudden entrance? Were you not content to have this concluded peacefully? You required some grand show of force? Why?”

  Avery’s face hardened. “Matters have changed, brother. The Persian ambassador has been informed about what happened at the White House, and in his outrage he has demanded a swift resolution to the affair. Somehow he learned that you were in possession of one of these women, and he insisted we take action immediately.”

  Lawrence’s voice rose. “I do not possess—”

  “This has become bigger than your games or your need to play the hero to satisfy your lust, Lawrence. This is about the stability of our empire.”

  “Lust?” Lawrence was shouting now. “This was never about lust. It was about justice, fairness, compassion, and…and love.” He spoke the word in quiet reverence, and because the ballroom had fallen silent, everyone heard.

  Avery huffed, which only seemed to harden Lawrence’s resolve. “I swear before God, I will fight you for her if I must. Your authority be damned.”

  Zehra shivered at the frightening duality of a man who could love her so deeply and yet threaten his brother at the same time.

  “Don’t be a romantic fool, Lawrence.” Avery waved at the men behind him. “Six against one. You always were foolish in choosing your fights.”

  “I’d say the odds are more like six to six.” Godric stepped forward, flexing his arms. The rest of the League, Jonathan, Charles, Ashton, and Lucien, all came forward with nods toward Lawrence in a show of support.

  “I apologize. I miscounted, Your Grace,” Avery said. “However, I speak for the Crown, and the Crown speaks for the empire. Your titles and privileges cannot protect you in this matter. You will all face charges if you resist. Please do not make this difficult.”

  Charles laughed. “Sadly, this is not the first time I’ve heard that threat. It did not scare me then, and I cannot say it scares me now. I’m quite content to stand by Lawrence’s side, as will every man here with me.”

  One by one the others drew closer together, as if preparing for battle. Zehra couldn’t believe what she was seeing. The League had rallied behind Lawrence. For her.

  “Lawrence, be reasonable.” Avery’s hold on Zehra’s arm softened as he pleaded with his brother. “She was returning home soon regardless. What does it matter if it is today or tomorrow? Don’t make me do this.”

  “This is wrong and you know it,” Lawrence warned.

  Avery’s head dropped. “I am sorry. I never wanted this. But I have my orders, and I cannot disobey them. You don’t understand what is at stake here.”

  “Then what’s it to be, Avery? Your duty, or your family and friends?” Lawrence left the threat hanging.

  Avery tightened his hold on Zehra’s arm. “You ask me to choose between my family and my country. I think you know what my answer will be.”

  Everything that followed was a frightening blur. Avery shouted at his men to stand their ground as the League and Lawrence rushed them. Avery moved back, keeping Zehra with him as he herded her to the door. The ballroom was full of shouting and chaos as men traded blows.

  “Stay back, I don’t want you hurt.” Avery’s hands were gentle as he shielded her while the League battled the Bow Street Runners. It was fortunate that no one dared to draw any weapons. Each side instead chose to box or wrestle with the other and try to force them to submit. Zehra tried to catch a glimpse of Lawrence. Her heart raced as a wave of panic washed over her.

  “This way.” Avery and Zehra reached the door of the ballroom, but Avery was suddenly thrown against the wall beside the open door. Lawrence held him by his throat, pinning him.

  “If you take her from me,” Lawrence hissed, “I will never forgive you. Never.”

  Avery’s hold on Zehra’s arm loosened, his fingers slipping free of her as he sighed. His hazel eyes burned with regret. “Take her then, damn you. But you will face the consequences.”

  Zehra stumbled back, rubbing her wrist. It was only then she realized that others now stood in the doorway of the ballroom mere feet away from her. An elegant red-haired woman and a handsome older man with silver hair. And behind them were Emily and the other women, looking none too pleased at their recent banishment.

  “What in God’s name is going on?” the older woman demanded. Her tone carried across the room with the force of a thunderbolt. The fighting came to an abrupt halt as Avery ordered his men to stand down.

  Lawrence let go of Avery and moved to Zehra’s side, clasping her shaking hand in his. “Mother?”

  Mother? This was Lawrence’s mother? Zehra couldn’t miss the similarities of their features, of course, but it still came as a shock. The older woman’s eyes slid to Zehra, and her face drained of all color.

  “No, it cannot be…”

  The voice was not hers, however. The old man beside Lady Russell took a slow step forward, his hands trembling as he reached out to Zehra. She would have retreated from anyone else…but there was something familial about him. He reassured her in a way she could not explain. The man stared at her locket.

  “The Denbruck family crest. By God, it’s really you… But how? I was told…” The man stared at Zehra as though she were some strange mixture of ghost and miracle.

  “Who is she?” Lady Russell asked.

  “It is my late daughter’s…daughter. Little Zehra. My desert rose.” His voice broke as he touched her face.

  “You…you know of me?” Zehra asked, too afraid to hope the answer he gave her was the one she longed to hear.

  “George Lyon, Earl of Denbruck, but more importantly…I’m your grandpapa.” He smiled hesitantly and opened his arms to her. For a moment Zehra couldn’t breathe, and she just stared at him, this man who was her family who waited for her with open arms.

  She rushed to him, pressing her face against his chest. He was taller than she had imagined, and his arms were strong as he held her. My grandfather… He’s really here… She shut her eyes tight, blocking the tears that would soon come.

  Lawrence’s mother recovered more quickly than the others gathered around them. Emily and the other ladies joined her at the door. “Someone had better explain to me what is going on. Lawrence, Avery, why are you fighting again? For that matter, why was everyone fighting? I demand answers, and by God I will get them.”

  The Duchess of Essex now came to Lady Russell’s side. “If you please, Lady Russell.” She whispered something in the matriarch’s ear. The older woman nodded, and then she and Emily exited the room together, though she gave a glare at her sons that indicated this matter was far from over.

  Zehra’s throat tightened as she turned to face her grandfather. “May I have a minute alone to speak with you, my lord?” she asked, fresh nerves jolting through her.

  “Of course. Anything for you,” Lord Denbruck said, smiling.

  Lucien nodded to the League and remaining ladies. “We will clear out. Avery, take your men and go home, unless it is your intention to ship the granddaughter of a peer to Persia?”

  “No. Of course not,” Avery said, his tone hard.

  Denbruck curle
d an arm around Zehra’s shoulders protectively. “What’s this?”

  “It appears there has been a misunderstanding at play, my lord,” said Avery. “Had someone bothered to inform me, we never would have…” He trailed off, his eyes softening as he cast an apologetic glance toward Zehra. “My lady, had I had known you were related to Lord Denbruck, I swear I would have had this matter resolved far sooner and far more amicably. Please forgive me.”

  Zehra gave a little nod. She understood, perhaps better than Lawrence did. He was keeping the peace between nations. Her father had faced similar hard decisions. Sometimes doing what was right was not the same as doing what had to be done. But she feared it would cost the brothers their relationship, all because of her.

  Avery called for his men to leave. Everyone else had vacated the room now, but Lawrence refused to go.

  She took his hands into hers. “Lawrence, please, wait outside for me.”

  His eyes searched her face. “I’m afraid you’ll vanish if I close my eyes. You won’t, will you? I can’t lose you, Zehra.”

  His words made her tremble with fear and hope in equal measure. “No. I won’t go anywhere,” she promised. She felt the same about him, as though the moment he stepped through the door, he might disappear. He glanced at Denbruck and nodded, and then the two were at last alone.

  “My lord,” she addressed the older man.

  “Grandpapa, or George, please. I insist. We are family.”

  “Grandpapa.” She tested the word, and it felt right. “My mother and father are…gone.”

  “I know, child.”

  Shock rooted her to the floor. “You do?”

  “Yes. I heard a few days ago.”

  “But…how?”

  He sighed heavily. “Long ago, I hired a friend to watch over your mother and father. I felt bad for breaking apart my family and not giving your parents’ union my blessing. I was a proud man, still am, but time heals old wounds as they say, and I cared more about her happiness and safety. I knew the moment you were born, heard tales of your childhood, your accomplishments… It has been my dream to meet you. I only wish”—his voice became rough again—“it had been under happier circumstances. Tell me, how did you come to England? My friend Michael believed you had perished. He said that a man named Samir Al-Zahrani had helped another shah take over the palace and killed those inside.”

  She braced herself, knowing the truth had to come out. She wished only for honesty between them.

  “My parents trusted Al-Zahrani, but he betrayed us all and took me for his concubine. I escaped, only to be kidnapped by slavers and sold to an English brothel.”

  George gasped. “My God. Zehra, are you all right? Did anyone hurt you?”

  “Yes, I’m fine,” she reassured him. “Lawrence Russell was my savior. He was there, helping to stop the auction, and he bought me in order to protect me. I was too afraid to tell him about you. Al-Zahrani was still looking for me, and I heard him threaten to kill anyone who stood in his way.” She hesitated and blushed. “I feared it would put your life in danger if I tried to find you. And…” Again, she struggled for the right words. “I feared you would want nothing to do with me.”

  Tears rolled down her grandfather’s cheeks. “Had I known, I could have spared you heartache, my child. When Michael told me he heard you were coming to London, I had every intention of finding you and meeting you. I want everything to do with you. I only regret your mother will never know how happy I am to have found you at last. You must come home with me tonight.”

  “But the man who kidnapped me, Al-Zahrani, he is still out there. You won’t be safe, not so long as I am with you.”

  “Did you say Al-Zahrani?” A voice from the doorway made Zehra tense. Avery stood in the doorway, watching them. Lawrence was just behind him, glaring at his brother.

  “Er…yes,” Denbruck said. “My granddaughter said he kidnapped her and that he’s threatened to kill anyone to get to her.”

  “What?” Lawrence focused on Zehra now, his eyes wide. “Why didn’t you tell me?” He moved past his brother and came over to her, clutching her hands in his. Lord Denbruck stared at their joined hands with mute curiosity.

  “Because I knew you would seek him out,” she confessed to Lawrence. “I could not let you put your life at risk for me.”

  “She’s right,” Avery said. “You would have been foolhardy enough to rush headlong into danger. Challenge him to a duel or some bloody nonsense.” He looked toward Zehra. “Miss Darzi, you should know that Al-Zahrani is no longer in London. We know of this man and are having him followed. While he wasn’t a part of the slavers who brought you to London, he was at the White House that night. I suspect it was he who informed the ambassador about you, which might explain why he insisted on our acting with such haste. I fear now that had I followed my orders, you might indeed have ended up back in his clutches.”

  Zehra’s hand flew to her mouth, but Avery was quick to continue. “My men have tracked him to Brighton, where they are under orders to apprehend him and send him home. And if he resists…well…” Avery let the threat linger. He looked to his brother Lawrence, who sighed and gave him the slightest nod of understanding.

  “I’ll walk you to the door, Avery.” Lawrence squeezed Zehra’s hands. “I’ll be back in a moment.” He left to see his brother off.

  Denbruck was smiling again. “See? All’s well then, child. You’ll come home with me at once. I want you to rest, and you have an aunt and uncle who want to meet you. And we must introduce you to society, of course, when you’re ready.”

  The thought of all that made her head spin. She wanted to go with him, but she also wanted to stay with Lawrence.

  “Do you wish to come with me?” he asked, his tone gentle.

  She bit her lip and nodded. “But please, Grandpapa, I must speak with Lawrence before we go.”

  The earl’s blue eyes sharpened. “I must know more about him first. Did he do anything untoward to you? Say the word and I will—”

  “No! He was wonderful. He gave me everything I needed. He was brave and strong and sweet and…” A thousand other words to describe him never left her lips. Loving, passionate, tender, wonderful, wicked…

  “And you fell in love with the boy?” Her grandfather chuckled. “I shouldn’t be surprised. Lady Russell’s lads are charming. Damned rogues too, the lot of them, but damned fine men as well. Did he break your heart?”

  “No,” she answered honestly. “I love him. And he loves me.”

  Denbruck crossed his arms. “Well, you must understand this is all highly unusual. By all accounts it is scandalous, but it won’t be hard to sort things out, I suppose. I will let him come calling on you once you’ve had a proper come-out. In a few months, he can come by with flowers and other such nonsense and take you riding in the park or whatever it is young men do these days with their ladies.”

  “A few months?”

  “I’m afraid it’s how things are done. If you were to declare yourselves now, before you’ve even been introduced in society, I fear it could make matters quite difficult for both of you. Gossip and rumors would damage both your names. A few months won’t stop love, if that’s what you both feel. Now, let’s get you home. We’ll talk to the boy first, and then it’s time you and I got to know each other. I’ve missed far too many years of your life. I don’t want to miss another moment.”

  Zehra brushed away a tear as they left the ballroom to find Lawrence.

  . . .

  Lawrence paced the hall. He and Avery had had a few minutes of quiet conversation, and both had apologized. He’d hugged his brother and sent him home, but he hadn’t gone back into the ballroom. He wanted to give Zehra some time with her grandfather. Everyone from tonight’s disrupted activities had made themselves politely scarce, which left him all alone to wait. At last, Zehra and her grandfather came out of the ballroom. Lawrence nodded respectfully at Denbruck.

  “My lord.”

  “Mr. Russell.” D
enbruck nodded back. “My granddaughter has told me of you and the nature of your assistance to her. I cannot express the depth of my gratitude that you were there that night to render her aid.”

  “It was a privilege, my lord.” Lawrence met his gaze. “And with your permission—”

  “Heavens, boy, we have time enough for that later. You may call on me tomorrow if you like, but I offer you both my blessing, once the proper allowances are made, of course.” He smiled sadly. “You’ll take her away before I even get to know her.” He leaned down to kiss Zehra’s cheek. “I’ll wait for you outside. When Her Grace invited me here tonight, I honestly wasn’t in the mood for dancing, so I left my coach waiting in front in case I needed to make a quick exit. I intend to make use of it.” He chuckled and chucked Zehra under the chin as though she were a child of ten and not a woman of twenty.

  Once he had left, Lawrence dragged Zehra into his arms, holding her with a ferocity that surprised himself.

  “Lord, I thought I might lose you.” The terror he’d experienced when Avery had tried to take her away was like nothing he’d ever experienced in his life. He’d known then that he was going to marry her and give her everything he could in life to make her happy, even if he had to defy his country to do it.

  “Lawrence, you don’t have to do the honorable thing,” she said, and her voice held a tremulous note that stabbed at his heart.

  “No one has ever made me do anything honorable,” Lawrence replied. “I’m a rogue, darling. When I do something, it is because I want to. And I have decided I want my Persian princess in my bed, in my life, and in my heart. Would you deny me that?” He curled his fingers under her chin and tilted her head back so he could look deep into her bright-blue eyes.

  “As long as you love me, then no, I would deny you nothing.”

  “Good. Because I’ll find a way to convince you to fall in love with me.”