The Cynfell Brothers

by Samantha Holt

  The chief half-sagged, moaning and clutching the back of his head. Ash briefly glanced at Lila who held the poker aloft, ready to do more damage. Wherever she’d been hiding, she’d done a fine job of it.

  He ducked to grab the gun, but he was side-swiped by Newton. The pain in his leg tore through him again as they crashed against the bannister. Lila screamed something, but he didn’t know what. Newton’s hands latched around his neck. He fought them, clawing at his hands while fighting for breaths.

  Ash moved back on unsteady feet and swung at him. His fist connected with flesh and there was a crunch. Blood spurted from Newton’s nose. The hold on his neck released, and he went in again for another punch. They both fell back to the bannister and a creaking sound sent the hairs on the back of his neck on end. Wood gave way slowly, but neither of them were steady enough on their feet to move.

  Suddenly the wooden struts ripped from the floor. Locked in battle, they both tilted as the bannister gave way. Ash had a brief image of what it would be like to meet the floor. They were three storeys up. He wouldn’t survive.

  Another ripping sound and splinters spat up around him. Newton’s scream rang in his head. The bannister fell away and a thud sounded as it hit the floor. Newton spilled back, groping at Ash’s chest for purchase. He wavered there for a moment while Ash dug his fingers into the bannister at his side. Splinters cut into his palm and his balance was off. Their gazes met briefly before Newton fell. The chief was lost to the shadows, but he heard the thud of his body connecting with the floor.

  He tried to right himself, but it was no good. His weak leg wouldn’t save him and the rest of the bannister was about to give way. Lila screamed. He hated his back was to her. If only he could see her face once...

  Something tugged him back. He gripped the shredded bannister tighter. Lila, damn her. He’d take her with him. He forced all the strength he had into that one arm and ignored the movement of the wood as it began to buckle under his weight. Lila yanked him back and his feet slipped from beneath him. He fell to the floor, half of his body hanging over the precipice. He scrambled back with the help of Lila frantically tearing him toward her.

  Rolling onto his back, he blew out a breath and stared up at Lila. She’d saved him.

  “Oh God, your leg.” Her hands were all over him. He could hardly fathom where, they were just running up and down and then to his leg then all over his chest again. “Are you hurt anywhere else?”

  His entire body hurt, but he just shook his head.

  “Lila—” he hissed when she touched his leg “—I may need a surgeon.”

  Her eyes were wide in the gloom. “Where will I find one?”

  “You’ll have to go to the village.”

  “I cannot leave you.”

  “We need help, Lila.”

  She tugged her bottom lip beneath her teeth and nodded. “I’ll find one.” She glanced at his leg. “Should we tie it up?”

  He peered down at the blood coating his leg and nodded. “I think so.”

  She moved into the bedroom and came back with his shirt. Twisting it into one long length, she wound it around his leg and pulled it tight. He couldn’t hold back a groan of pain.

  “Forgive me.” She came over and kissed him on the forehead. “Don’t leave me, Ash,” she told him with only the slightest tremor to her voice. “I will be back soon.”

  He nodded, his throat suddenly tight and dry. Lila hurried away and down the stairs. He considered the sight she’d be confronted with and wished she didn’t have to do this. But he’d used any strength he had left fighting Newton. Now all he could do was lie here and wait and pray he didn’t lose much more blood.

  He stared at the ceiling, just able to make out the patterns sculpted onto it. The hallway began to grow lighter and his eyes kept threatening to droop. Though the pain in his leg remained, he distracted himself with thoughts of Lila and their lovemaking. Besides, he’d suffered pain many times before. This was easy to bear. Staying awake, however, was not, but he feared if he let himself, he might never wake again.

  Eventually, the heaviness in his eyelids grew too much. He closed them, even knowing Lila would hate him for doing so.

  “Ash!”

  Behind the welcome darkness of his eyelids, a flicker of irritation ran through him. Couldn’t they see he was resting?

  “Ash, you damned fool, open your eyes.”

  Scowling, he dragged them open to find several faces hovering above him. He took his time in figuring out who they were. Jasper, Julian, Dante, Pierce. No Harris, though. Even Gideon had turned up for the occasion. He frowned at his youngest brother, more annoyed by his appearance somehow. He didn’t need his damned whelp of a brother interfering in his business.

  Then he saw her. She pushed through his brothers as though they weren’t five strong, fully-grown men.

  “Don’t you dare close your eyes, Ash Cynfell. The doctor is here.” She knelt beside him and peered up at the men. “Let him through then!”

  If he’d have had enough energy he’d have been amused at her commanding his brothers, but relief at seeing Lila again made his body weary. The doctor came to his side, and Lila gave his hand a quick squeeze. She didn’t say anything, and he didn’t blame her with his brothers crowding around them. But he saw what she wanted to say in her eyes. She loved him. For her, he would have to live through this damned gunshot wound because he had a whole life of loving her ahead of him.

  Epilogue

  Lila helped Ash sit up in bed and offered him a glass of water. He took it and eyed her grumpily. Considering he was used to being bedridden with his headaches, he was a terrible patient.

  She held back a yawn. They’d moved from the upper bedroom to one of the ones on the second floor. None of his brothers had questioned her remaining with him, and she doubted they would dare. As much as they tried to seem powerful and intimidating, they clearly cared deeply for each other and wanted Ash to heal quickly. If that meant her being at his side, they wouldn’t argue with that.

  Unfortunately, Ash’s slowly healing wound meant he didn’t sleep very well and neither did she. She was looking forward to returning to London with him and setting up house properly once he was fully healed. A note had been sent on to her family to assure them of her safety, but there would be a lot of questions to field once she returned.

  Lila sat on the chair beside the bed and shared a smile with Ash. A few questions would be nothing compared to what they’d been through.

  “Julian says the police are continuing the investigation into the murders but that the chief appeared to be acting alone.” She shook her head. “He was a sick man.”

  Ash snorted. “Sick and soulless.”

  “At least he cannot hurt anyone again.”

  “I regret that he killed Westerling. I regret I wasn’t there to stop it.”

  She nodded. “I am sorry that man was killed. But if none of this had happened we might never have found out who this killer was. He could have continued killing and have hurt you and your brothers.” She leaned over and squeezed his hand. “And I would never have found you.”

  He grinned. “There is that.” He shifted and winced. “Damn it, I can’t wait to be out of this bed and making love—”

  “You bastard!”

  Lila snapped her head around in the direction of the expletive to see her uncle, followed by several of her aunts and cousins filling the room. She stood, hands out to prevent her uncle from coming farther forward. Eyes wide, she took in the sight of what seemed like her entire family filling the room.

  “Uncle...” she warned.

  “You bastard.” He jabbed a finger at Ash, his round cheeks red and filled with rage. “You’ll pay for what you’ve done.”

  “Uncle, he saved my life. I explained this in the letter.”

  “We could have protected you. Now you’re ruined.”

  Lila took a step back, unable to prevent a smile creeping across her face. She took Ash’s hand, and he grinned
back.

  “No one could have protected me like Ash did, Uncle,” she said calmly.

  “You’ll have to make this right, Cynfell,” he demanded. A ripple of agreement ran around the room. “You’ll have to marry her.”

  Lila looked to Ash and his grin widened. Then he turned his attention to her family.

  “Mr Radley, it would be an honour and a pleasure to marry your niece. I accept.”

  Her uncle’s eyes grew so wide that she feared he might swoon. Her family erupted into conversation, but Lila could hardly make out who was saying what. And she didn’t care. Perhaps she hadn’t found her match as she’d intended. A background of murder and intrigue had been far from what she’d expected. But she knew what they’d been through had shown her the sort of man Ash Cynfell was far better than sharing a dance at a ball.

  She leaned over and kissed him on the lips. “And I accept too.”

  THE END

  Sinful Temptations

  Chapter One

  “You really were so very heroic.”

  Harris smiled as genially as one could over clenched teeth. What would Miss Arkwright say if he told her that the wound he’d received whilst trying to protect his new sister had been received in a fairly unheroic manner. More a case of wrong place, wrong time. The shot had apparently been intended for his identical twin brother.

  Of course, it wasn’t that he didn’t like being seen as a hero. If he’d been at all fearful that an unsightly scar and a temporary walking stick would put off the ladies, he’d been terribly wrong. After the newspapers had reported on the killer who had been after his brother and his new wife, he’d garnered more attention than he’d received in his lifetime. And that was saying something. He’d hardly been unpopular with women before.

  “It was nothing really,” he said, glancing around the ballroom.

  The autumn gala had once been one of his favourite events. There was something about the end of the summer nearing that drove women into a frenzy. Some sort of idea that they must seize all opportunities. And very often, some of those glamorous widows and independent women liked to seize him. However, his heroic deed had also enticed several innocent young women who now saw him as more than a rake.

  He was now potential husband material.

  Harris suppressed a shudder. Yes, his brothers had excellent marriages, but they were the exception. His parents’ own frosty marriage had been enough to put a man off marriage permanently. He lifted his head to spot his brother and his wife. Ash, his twin, had been terrible at attending events like this, usually preferring to spend his time in bed. It seemed Lila was quite the influence on his brother as he didn’t think he’d ever seen him attend so many events.

  He could not blame Ash. The little blonde minx had his brother head over heels for her the moment he'd set eyes on her. There were few women as stunning as Lila.

  Lila waved her fan his way when she caught him looking and gave a wide grin as she glanced at the hordes of women surrounding him.

  The hordes...damnation. He turned his attention back to the young women crowding around him. He resisted the desire to tug at his necktie.

  The ballroom was certainly stifling, as these things often were. With the heavy, glittering chandeliers giving off a harsh glow and the dance floor crowded with people, the air quickly became thick. However, he was fairly certain the women slowly moving in on him and forcing him back toward the wall had more to do with the tightness in his throat.

  He looked into the eager gazes of each woman—none of them older than nineteen—and felt a little like prey before the pack of wolves strike.

  He had to escape.

  “Do excuse me, ladies. I see someone I must speak with, and I’m sure there are many gentlemen about ready to do me another injury for stealing all your time.” He eased past them all, ignoring the sounds of protest. He dipped his head toward them. “Good evening.”

  It was not as though he could dash—not with his leg injury—but he made a fine attempt at making his way around the edge of the dance floor toward the bevelled glass doors that released a mere puff of fresh air into the cloying atmosphere. Women’s laughs trilled in his ears, lower-pitched mumbles occasionally punctuated them. Cigar smoke and too much perfume added to the heavy atmosphere.

  All in all, Harris hated it. And he never hated social events. Up until some lunatic tried to kill his brother and himself, he’d welcomed gatherings such as this one. But this leg wound had slowed him down and made him feel practically ancient.

  Now, it was not as though one could not fully service a woman with such a wound—the doctor had said he might suffer discomfort but it would do him no harm to be sexually active, after all.

  However, something about the whole experience had knocked him off kilter.

  Harris pushed through the heave of bodies near the door, offering a hasty apology as he nearly tumbled face first into one woman’s bountiful cleavage when his walking stick caught on another gentleman’s leg.

  He stilled. Lifting his gaze up over that generous bosom, he let slip a tilted smile. Whatever she was doing here, he didn’t know, but he would not complain.

  “Anna.”

  “Lord Harris,” she said coolly.

  Of course, that was Anna all over. Cold, composed. Never mind that he’d nearly burrowed his face in her cleavage…cleavage that he was struggling to draw his gaze from. She was entirely unflustered.

  “Forgive me, I was just going for some air and this thing does not add much to my grace.” He lifted his walking stick.

  “As was I.”

  “After you.” He motioned for her to head out of the ballroom through the patio doors and followed when she moved to one side to peer up at the star-speckled sky.

  He hadn’t seen Anna for several months, not since he’d been shot when staying in her den of sin. Many might think he deserved to be shot after visiting such a scandalous place but unusually it had been his brother’s idea. A fine place to hide from a killer, apparently.

  Unfortunately for them all, it hadn’t been. However, he’d spent quite some time being nursed back to health by Anna Dubois, the elegant and beautiful owner of the establishment.

  And she was still as beautiful as ever, if not more. Without the fog of pain or fatigue, he could quite admire her. Resplendent in purple silk, the ruffles and gold embroidery emphasised pale shoulders and a slender waist. Anna was tall for a woman, something he’d never been particularly able to appreciate as he’d spent the majority of his time with her in bed or sitting down.

  He could certainly appreciate it now, though.

  “I did not expect to see you here tonight.”

  She slanted a glance his way, her lips curved a tad. “Whereas I expected to see you.”

  “Am I so very predictable?”

  He moved closer while she drew her fan off her wrist and waved it in front of her face. A tiny sheen of perspiration dotted her top lip. That deep, gut-punching need to sweep his tongue over said lips and taste the saltiness of her skin near crippled him.

  Well, crippled him further.

  Harris leaned heavily on his stick and urged his surely charming smile to remain in place.

  “Truthfully?” Anna faced him, eyes glinting in the moonlight.

  A half-moon greeted them, but it was bright and glowed with all its might. It meant there were few shadows to hide her beauty. Harris had seen beautiful women. Bedded them. Been around them for most of his life. Yet, none had quite the impact Anna had on him.

  Perhaps because she was entirely insistent on ignoring whatever the bloody hell this was between them. Even now, she behaved as though they were simply two strangers holding polite conversation. Yet there had been days when she’d touched his skin and held his hand when pain had wracked him. For those brief moments, he’d seen Anna, he was certain of it. For those brief moments, she’d been exposed to him. And he’d liked what he’d seen.

  He drew in a long breath of perfume-free air. Then deemed himself a li
ar because there was a scent in the air, except it was not heavy and cloying but delicate and all-too appealing.

  It came from her.

  “If I did not wish to hear the truth, would you try to coerce me with sweet words?”

  “Lord Harris, I have no need to coerce men. If a man has no wish to hear the truth, he will simply hear what he wishes, regardless of what a woman might say.”

  “Oh dear, Anna, you do sound so very cynical.”

  “When one lives in a world like mine, how can one not be?”

  “One could say the same of my world.”

  “What do you have to be cynical of?”

  Curiosity lit her eyes. It was the first time he’d truly noticed that shield of ice drop. God, how he wanted it to melt or crack and shatter completely. To get to know this woman inside out. She was an itch under his skin, and he needed to scratch it urgently.

  Then perhaps he wouldn’t be so damned melancholy. The unconquested conquest that was Anna Dubois was driving him a little insane he was convinced of it.

  “I am invited here—as I am every year—because I am an eligible bachelor. My worth is defined by my brother’s title and my unmarried status.” He lifted a brow. “How could one not be cynical?”

  She released an undisguised snort—a sound he might have expected from a woman like Anna, yet in such a setting it took him by surprise.

  “Better that than being defined by a man’s behaviour toward one.” She nodded her head toward the various couples making their way between the tall trees. “Many a lady shall be ruined tonight, yet the gentleman shall find himself completely unscathed.” She turned a mild smile his way, one that was certainly not real and far too polite. “Anyway, my lord, how is your leg?”

  He lifted his cane. “Getting there. Still walking around like damned cripple unfortunately and it has left an ugly scar, but it could have been worse.”

  Her lips tilted a little. “I imagine it’s not all bad. The weaker sex do so love tales of bravery and a scar or two.”