The Chance of Love (The Book of Love 7)

by Meara Platt

  “I will not have a wife touching me with her cold, iron hand. Especially in winter. She’ll freeze my—”

  Miranda choked on her tea. “Ronan!”

  “What? Holly’s married now. And if I know Joshua, he’s had her touching his—”

  “I vow I shall kick you to Brighton and back if you say another word!” Miranda shot out of her chair. “Out! Off to work with you! You are Parliament’s problem now. You’ll fit right in with those witless baboons. Don’t bother to come home until you are married. But to a nice girl like Holly, not one of your shameless tarts.”

  Ronan grabbed a sweet bun off one of the salvers. “Speaking of tarts.” He bit into it. “Mmm, apple. Delicious. Holly, I’ll make a deal with you. Find me a girl who tastes of cinnamon and apples, and I’ll marry her.”

  Miranda rolled her eyes. “Women are not fruit to be plucked off a tree. You are hopeless. Be off with you.”

  Ronan came around the table and planted a kiss on his mother’s cheek. “Love you to pieces, you henna-haired harpy.”

  Joshua coughed to cover his laughter.

  Holly kicked him under the chair.

  Sons were so different from daughters. However, she suspected not all mothers were quite like Miranda. She dished out twice as good as she got. It also had to be difficult for Ronan to suddenly find himself the sole bachelor among his brothers and cousins. Every wildebeest but him had now been tamed.

  Which meant all eyes were on him.

  Especially Miranda’s keen, eagle eyes, and she was not going to take it easy on her son.

  “Well, we had better be going, too. Are you ready, love?”

  Holly nodded. “I’ll just fetch my shawl. The sun’s bright, but it feels a bit cool.”

  “Yes, do keep warm,” Miranda said as Holly turned to leave. “I’ll be along later as well, but only for a short while. Abigail and Belle are coming over about four o’clock for more lessons. Then we’ll have tea. If Joshua is not ready to leave your new house at that time, then you can hop in the carriage with me. I don’t want you to miss my next instruction.”

  Joshua tipped his head in assent. “I doubt we will stay beyond that hour. The sun will be setting by then, and I don’t want Holly in the house after dark. Not that I’m overly worried about her now. You’ve turned her into a Valkyrie.”

  Holly rolled her eyes. “Nonsense. One day’s training is not enough to turn me into a warrior. I’ll be right back.”

  She ran upstairs to fetch her shawl. She’d given the others she’d acquired at Mrs. Mullins’s shop in Harwich as gifts to the ladies in the family. But she’d kept the aquamarine one for herself because it perfectly matched the color of her eyes.

  She walked to her room with a light step and had no sooner opened the door and taken a step in than someone grabbed her from behind.

  Lord Rawling! How did he get in here?

  Chapter Eighteen

  Holly felt Lord Rawling’s clammy hand clamp over her mouth before she could scream. One of his wiry arms came around her body to pin her arms down. She could not help but inhale the foul scent of his breath as he spoke against her ear. “We meet again, Mrs. Gleason.”

  She tried to shout at him to let her go, but her words were muffled and unintelligible.

  He laughed cruelly. “You cannot escape me.”

  His entire body was foul and rank, the odor unbearable. He hadn’t washed in days, too busy chasing them from London to Harwich and back. Her mind reverted to utter panic when he began to drag her to the panel leading to the servants’ stairs. It was open just a crack, obviously the way he’d gotten into her bedchamber and meant to sneak her out.

  She wanted to believe it was a trick.

  “Let me go!” she shouted again, but her voice was swallowed in the palm of his hand. This man was sick and putrid in body and mind. She revolted at the thought of his being able to break into Lady Miranda’s house in spite of all the protections surrounding her.

  How was it possible?

  She wanted to believe it was a prank, that Joshua was testing her again.

  But she knew he would never do such a thing, never allow anyone to hold her so roughly or scare her this way. Joshua! Joshua! Where are you?

  She’d just left him downstairs. How long would it take him to notice she was gone too long?

  Her entire body began to shake.

  Her heart pounded so hard, she could hardly breathe.

  Think.

  Clear your head.

  “There’s no point in struggling, Mrs. Gleason.” His voice sounded high pitched and eerily thin as he dragged her toward that open panel. Despite her struggles, he’d already dragged her halfway across the room.

  She tried to scream again, but her voice was still muffled by his hand across her mouth. He continued to ramble. “I need Walter’s forgiveness. He’s dead, and it is all my fault. You and I are going to him.”

  She shook her head wildly.

  What did he mean by that? Did he intend to take her to Walter’s grave? It was in York. Days away. Or was he going to kill her and carry her body north to dump atop Walter’s gravestone?

  “You must tell him. He’s angry and won’t speak to me.”

  Mother in heaven! Had he been trying to talk to a corpse?

  “Mrs. Gleason, he must be made to understand. I never meant to hurt him or my brother.”

  She hated being called that.

  She was Mrs. Brayden now.

  “Why won’t he talk to me? Why won’t he forgive me?”

  She wanted to tell him that he was not at fault. No one had ever blamed him for Walter’s death or that of his brother. But his mind was now so twisted, even if she went down on her knees and swore she and Walter had forgiven him, he would never believe her.

  Think.

  She’d stood in this very spot last night with Joshua’s arms around her. Bite his hand. She worked her mouth, but could not sink her teeth into any part of his skin. What was next? Don’t struggle. Go limp and fall forward. She did just that and was surprised when Lord Rawling’s grip loosened as he was caught off guard and almost dropped her.

  He was now off balance and trying to secure his hold on her. She purposely stuck her leg out so that his legs got tangled in hers, and he tripped. He released her as he fell, the instinct to hold out his arms to break his fall, overcoming the need to abduct her in that instant.

  It was all the time she needed.

  She rolled away and began screaming at the top of her lungs.

  The bedroom door was closed, and Joshua was downstairs. Would he hear her? Would anyone hear her? She tried to run to the door, but Lord Rawling, even though he was now on the ground, had managed to grab her ankle and had a painful hold of it.

  He was strong in his determination, pulling her back as she struggled to break free and run away.

  She continued to scream. “Joshua! Joshua!”

  Were he not so deranged, he would have let her go to escape before he was caught. But his mind was not clear, and he was obsessed with abducting her.

  Mother in heaven.

  Perhaps he was obsessed with killing her.

  Lord Rawling’s grip was too tight.

  He still would not let her go.

  She saw the glint of a blade in his hand.

  Now she understood, he meant this to be the end for both of them. In his deranged mind, he wished to close the circle. Stanford and Walter had died together. Now she and Rawling would do the same.

  She turned and kicked him as hard as she could in the face. Then she stomped on his belly and kicked him in the face again, this time going for his nose. As he raised the knife to stab her leg, she stomped down on his male parts as hard as she could.

  The knife fell from his hand as he released it to clutch his privates. Holly kicked the blade under her bed and grabbed the candlestick off her nightstand. She had just turned and raised it to hit him with it when the door flew open with a crash, and Joshua burst into the room. Following on hi
s heels were Griggs and two burly footmen. They stared at Lord Rawling writhing on the floor. They looked back at her with her heaving chest, and the candlestick raised over her head.

  Joshua’s mouth gaped open. “Holly, you did this?”

  He was staring at Lord Rawling, still writhing.

  She nodded, unable to speak as she was still struggling to catch her breath.

  His gaze was so full of love and aching relief. “Stay back, my beautiful Valkyrie.”

  He grabbed the fiend by the scruff of his neck and hauled him to his feet. Lord Rawling was now the one in panic. He lashed out wildly, but Joshua ducked his every punch so that he was merely swinging at air.

  Joshua’s fists were the size of cannonballs and packed as much force. He finally threw a punch of his own that caught Lord Rawling solidly in the jaw and would have knocked him out had Joshua not held back.

  She wasn’t sure why he hadn’t unleashed all his fury. Perhaps because they were looking at a shell of a man, now nothing more than a frail, wounded creature. “It is over, my lord,” Joshua said. “Fight me, and I will kill you with my bare hands. You know I am capable of doing it.”

  Joshua twisted Lord Rawling’s arms behind his back and began giving orders to Griggs and his two footmen. These footmen were obviously hired for their size and brawn. Although as far as Holly was concerned, no one was as splendid as Joshua.

  After searching Lord Rawling for weapons and finding none, Joshua turned to the others. “Get him out of here, and tie him to a chair in the dining room. Damn, I wish we had a dungeon in this house. I’d toss him into the darkest pit.”

  He frowned as he surveyed the room and saw the open panel used by servants to enter the room unobtrusively. “Griggs, wait! How did this bastard get to the servants’ stairs?”

  Their trusted butler turned ashen. “I have no idea, Captain Brayden. I’ll question the staff immediately.”

  “Give me a moment, and I’ll do it with you.” He made a quick search of the room and servants’ stairs to make sure no one else was lying in wait. “For now, secure Lord Rawling. Have your men stand guard over him. They are not to take their eyes off him for a moment, not even once he’s bound. He is deranged and dangerous. Do not underestimate his cunning.”

  “Understood, Captain Brayden.”

  “Send a messenger to the Duke of Ismere’s residence. Let him know we have his son, and he must come at once.” He raked a hand through his hair in consternation. “In the meanwhile, I’ll find out what happened to the two Bow Street runners who should have been outside the house standing guard over my wife.”

  Joshua stood beside her while Griggs and the footmen led a dazed, but still struggling Lord Rawling downstairs.

  As soon as they were gone, he emitted a groan that seemed to tear from the depths of his soul and hauled her into his arms. He hugged her fiercely, not caring that with her candlestick still raised, she almost hit him in the head. “Love, are you all right?”

  She nodded, finally dropping her arm and setting aside the candlestick. “Yes, I did everything you taught me last night, and it worked.”

  “You were incredibly brave. Thank the Lord, you’re all right. Are you sure he didn’t hurt you?”

  “He scared me, that was all. I kicked his knife under the bed. Let me—”

  Joshua’s eyes rounded in alarm. “He had a knife? Blessed saints! How did you disarm him?”

  “It fell out of his hands when I stomped on…I stomped hard between his legs, as you taught me.”

  He hugged her fiercely again and kissed her on the lips, on her cheeks, her eyes, her brow. “I love you, Holly.”

  “Feeling is mutual, my handsome captain.”

  He kissed her again.

  His hands were shaking as he released her. “He might have killed you.”

  She cupped his face and tipped his head down for another kiss. “Not a chance, my love. I have no intention of turning you into an eligible widower so soon. But I think it would have been quite different if you hadn’t given me the confidence to do what I needed to do to save myself. I hope Miranda will be proud of me, too.”

  “She will be.” He nodded. “I want to stay here and hold you into eternity, but there’s more to do. Those Bow Street runners might be missing. Possibly hurt. And there’s an investigation to conduct into who let Rawling in.”

  Holly went over to their bed and bent down to grab the knife that she’d kicked under it only a few moments ago. It felt as though hours had passed. Perhaps it had been two minutes. “We’d better check on your mother as well. The incident must have overset her.”

  “We do need to check on her, but only to make certain she hasn’t beaten Rawling to death before his father arrives.”

  He would not allow Holly to come outside with him while he searched for the missing Bow Street men. He left her in his mother’s care and was relieved when Holly did not protest. He had just gone out of the servants’ entrance and started to search amid the shrubs on the side of the house when he saw the two runners lying motionless behind a row boxwood. “Bollocks,” he muttered, knowing Rawling could not have done this on his own.

  At first, he feared they had been killed. But upon checking for a pulse on each, he realized they were merely unconscious. Each had a strong pulse. No sign of blood. Likely they had been hit over the head and dumped out of sight.

  He removed the pistol always kept in the lip of his boot and cautiously made his way into the rear alley. Two big men were standing in wait beside a wagon. He was a big man himself, but these oxen were imposing in size, even for him. They looked nasty, too. Weathered, leathery faces crisscrossed with scars. Big, beefy fists.

  One of them carried a whip.

  Joshua raised his weapon and trained it on the man’s chest. “Unless you wish to be hanged along with the gentleman who hired you, I suggest you leave London immediately and never come back.”

  The blackguard with the whip appeared to consider the warning. But he was about to come to the wrong conclusion. His friend tried to set him right. “His lordship ain’t paid us yet, Len. I’m not stayin’ around to hang for the likes o’ him. He ain’t right in the head. Let’s get out o’ here before the patrol arrives.”

  His friend raised his arm to snap his whip, so Joshua cocked his pistol. “Don’t be daft, Len. Do as your friend says.”

  “That’s right, Len. Do it,” the first man said in a pleading voice. “All we done was cosh them two runners over the head. No one’s gonna come after us for that. Put down yer whip or he’ll shoot ye.”

  “Too late, gentlemen.”

  Joshua felt some disappointment in not having taken them down on his own. He would have liked to throw a few punches, but the neighborhood patrol was now here. He’d let them deal with the two ruffians. As the first man said, they hadn’t been paid and were not about to do Rawling’s bidding.

  They’d have to answer for the two injured runners, but they hadn’t killed these men. Joshua wasn’t sure why they hadn’t. No doubt the reason was the same, they hadn’t been paid. “Thank goodness for that,” he muttered to himself.

  Griggs and another able footman came running toward him. “The Duke of Ismere is on his way,” Griggs said, out of breath.

  The footman was carrying a shotgun and joined the patrol in holding down Len and his confederate. By the shouts and sounds of scuffling as they were marched around the corner and out of his sight, Joshua knew the blackguards were now desperately trying to escape custody. “Griggs, send a messenger to Homer Barrow, and ask him to come here as soon as possible. And we’d better summon Dr. Farthingale to have a look at Mr. Barrow’s men.”

  “I’ll take care of it at once, Captain Brayden.”

  When Joshua returned to the house, he was shocked to find Holly talking to Rawling. Of course, the two footmen and Miranda were there as well, and Rawling was tied to the chair.

  Still, Joshua did not like that she was even in the same room with him. As he approached to take her o
ut of there, Miranda silently motioned for him to stay still. “You must let her confront him,” she whispered, “or your soft-hearted wife will always fret about what she ought to have done.”

  He nodded. Yes, this was Holly’s way, to hold things in and let them eat at her insides. He was surprised his mother understood her nature so well.

  “You must allow your pain to heal, Lord Rawling,” Holly said, her voice so gentle it made Joshua ache for the fright this villain had given her. “You are not to blame for the deaths of your brother or my late husband.”

  Rawling began to whimper.

  It was a frightening sound to Joshua’s ears, but Holly did not appear to be affected by it and continued to talk to him in her gentle manner. “If it is forgiveness from me that you seek, then I do forgive you. But their deaths were not your fault. Never your fault. I also forgive you on behalf of Walter. He is at peace. He is in heaven with your brother. Their spirits are bound forever. It is as it should be. I do not think they could have lived one without the other.”

  Joshua studied Rawling’s eyes, saw the anguish in them.

  She’d spoken to him calmly and compassionately, but Rawling was deranged. He was nodding and thanking Holly, if his frail whines could be called that. But Joshua could see the calculation in his eyes.

  As soon as Holly had finished, he drew her away.

  Hell and damnation, he wanted this to be over.

  He wanted them to set up a household, raise a family. He wanted her to enjoy the simple entertainments, to take her to those interminable musicales that were so popular during the Season, and glittering balls and merry dinner parties. He wanted to grow old with her.

  Lord Rawling’s father arrived shortly afterward with his own Bow Street men and two others who were introduced as doctors, although Joshua was in doubt about them. They had none of the refinement of George Farthingale. In truth, they sent chills up Joshua’s spine, and he wasn’t the one they were taking away.

  He could not help but feel sorry for Rawling. Yet, never that sorry. He’d stalked Holly and tried to hurt her.

  He’d meant to do worse if that knife she’d kicked out of his hands was any indication.