Walker’s vehement curse resounded in the room, the trio of maidservants gasping and stopping their labor. He waved for them to leave and the women obliged him, scurrying out of the room. Then he turned back to Marguerite.
“You must dress quickly. As soon as I speak to the constable, we’re leaving for London.”
He released her and she dropped the quilt to hurry toward where her clothing was laid out upon the trunk, giving no thought to her nakedness or to the dead man lying on the floor.
She could only think of Lindsay and little Justin alone in that huge house. Please God, may they be all right!
If anything terrible had happened to her sister Corie’s best friend—her friend as well!—she would never forgive herself.
Chapter 12
“Has Marguerite taken ill, Lindsay? It’s past midday and yet you say she’s still abed.”
Lindsay swallowed hard and shook her head as she gazed at Jared, who had astonished her completely with his unexpected arrival at the town house.
She’d been playing with Justin when the footman had brought her the news, and she’d run downstairs to find Jared standing so tall and handsome in the foyer. Truly, she was glad to see him, but oh dear, oh dear.
Marguerite and Walker hadn’t returned yet from Gretna Green! What was she to do now? What else was she to say?
She’d already voiced a falsehood when she’d told Walker that she would do no such thing to Jared. By her reckoning, they should have arrived back in London by now…unless the carriage had lost a wheel or they’d been caught in a storm or a bridge had washed out.
Now that she considered all the things that might have gone wrong, she began to regret her advice to them to marry in Scotland. If anything had happened to them, she would never forgive herself!
“Lindsay, you look pale. You’re not taking sick—”
“No, no, my love, I’m just so happy to see you! Surprised, too. You’d said later in the week and here it’s only Monday—”
“The foreman had matters well in hand so I came home to you. Why should that surprise you?”
“No reason—oh!”
Jared had pulled her into his arms to kiss her soundly, which only made Lindsay feel worse that she had lied to him. As if sensing her increasing discomfiture, he drew back to study her face.
“Something’s amiss. Woman, I know you too well.”
“Amiss? Of course not! Everything’s perfectly fine.” She’d twisted away from him and hurried into the drawing room, knowing he would come after her.
Knowing with deepening chagrin, too, that this wasn’t the first time her romantic nature had gotten her into trouble. She should tell him the truth; she felt sick inside for deceiving him.
Oh, why hadn’t Marguerite and Walker already returned to London to spare her from revealing their secret? She only hoped Jared would forgive her for the part she’d played in their marriage…please may he forgive her.
Her fingers twisting in the pale yellow muslin of her gown, she turned from the window to face him and opened her mouth to speak when she heard it. Yes, she heard it! The clopping of horse hooves and the clatter of carriage wheels pulling up in front of the town house.
Walker and Marguerite were just outside, but oh Lord, how was she to distract Jared now so he wouldn’t see them together?
“You know, I’ve never liked this room,” she stated with feigned exasperation even as Jared looked more perplexed. She hastened to him and took his hand. “Let’s visit in the garden, shall we? It’s so beautiful out there and so stuffy in here.”
“Stuffy? I think it feels fine.”
She didn’t answer but began to pull him with her, smiling prettily, though she could tell by the stiffness in his fingers that he wasn’t convinced by her complaint. Heaven help her, another lie!
“You must tell me all about the renovations,” she said brightly, drawing him through the foyer toward the hallway leading to the back of the house. Yet her heart sank when she heard a loud knocking. She glanced over her shoulder to see Sims, the footman, hastening to answer the front door.
“Lindsay, were you expecting company?” Jared asked her, stopping to look behind him.
She didn’t have a chance to answer. No sooner had the door opened when Marguerite rushed inside with Walker striding behind her.
“Lindsay, you’re all right! We’ve been so worried about you!”
“Worried?” Jared looked even more confounded. “Lindsay, what the devil…?”
She couldn’t answer as Marguerite crushed her in an effusive embrace, Walker standing silently just behind her.
In truth, Lindsay felt as relieved to see them, too, though from the tightness in Jared’s jaw as he looked from Walker to Marguerite, she feared a storm was brewing. She had no idea why they would have been worried about her, and she started to feel perplexed, too.
“I’m fine, Marguerite, truly!” Lindsay insisted as Marguerite released her. “And you see that Jared is fine. He returned home early—no more than a half hour ago. I told him you were abed, but you must have hurried out while I was playing with Justin. How lovely of you to fetch her for a carriage ride, Walker. How was Hyde Park today?”
As everyone stared at her now, Lindsay winced that she’d concocted such rubbish—more lies to regret!—yet why weren’t Walker and Marguerite coming to her aid and confirming her story?
“You took Marguerite for a carriage ride unchaperoned?” Jared asked tightly, staring at Walker who’d stepped forward to place his hand at Marguerite’s waist. Now Lindsay felt she might swoon, she was growing so bewildered.
What of keeping their marriage a secret? Why was Walker so blatantly claiming Marguerite right before Jared’s eyes?
“Uh…why don’t we go into the dining room and I’ll ring for some tea?” she suggested lamely while Walker drew Marguerite closer against him. Oh, Lord…
“Marguerite and I were married Saturday in Gretna Green,” Walker announced in a voice so firm and steady while Lindsay was certain her knees would buckle beneath her. “She’s my wife, Lady Summerlin, now—”
“Jared!” Too late Lindsay saw him charge past her and swing his fist, which caught Walker squarely upon the jaw.
She screamed. Marguerite screamed. And then Lindsay did the only thing she could do as Jared and Walker, chest-to-chest and glaring ominously at each other, looked ready to come to more blows.
She fainted.
***
Jared drew his chair closer to the bed and clasped Lindsay’s hands tightly, never having felt more wretched. “God help me, Lindsay, you gave me a fright.”
She squeezed his hands, thankfully her color improved though she still looked pale to him, but gazed at him with reproach.
“You gave me a fright, Jared Giles, attacking your closest friend like you did. Both of you ready to beat upon each other—and for what reason? Because Walker and Marguerite were wed in Gretna Green? Theirs was happy news and not deserving of a brawl. Happy news!”
Thoroughly chastised, Jared could only sigh heavily that his behavior had caused his beloved wife to faint. Such dread had overcome him as he’d carried her first to the settee in the drawing room…and then such immense relief swamping him when she’d opened her eyes a few moments later.
Then everyone had begun to talk at once, Lindsay begging his forgiveness for telling him falsehoods about Marguerite being abed and the carriage ride in Hyde Park.
Walker grimly recounting what had happened on the road to Gretna Green and then the next morning when he and Marguerite had both been attacked.
Marguerite kneeling beside the settee to be close to Lindsay as she’d explained why they had been sick with worry about her, Jared’s gut twisting at the thought of anyone daring to come to his house and threaten his wife.
Thank God that hadn’t happened.
Thank God the physician who lived down the street and who’d come running at the footman’s news of Lindsay’s collapse had pronounced her healthy, just
in need of bed rest until morning.
Thank God, too, that Marguerite and Walker had safely returned to London, though Walker’s intent to challenge his cousin to a duel first thing in the morning filled Jared with unease.
Walker was an expert shot, but duels were unpredictable at best. Marguerite barely a bride and now she faced the terrifying possibility of becoming a young widow?
Such remorse filled Jared that he thought he might choke upon it, his only relief found in Lindsay reaching out to touch his cheek.
“Jared…you and Walker have been as close as brothers for years. He’ll accept your apology, I know it. Find him. Talk to him.”
He nodded, already planning to do just that although he was reluctant to leave Lindsay’s side. Her other hand rested upon her rounded stomach, their second child not due yet for another three months. And here she’d collapsed upon the floor right in front of him because of what he’d done—God help him, he couldn’t bear to think of it!
“Sweetheart, I’m well, truly.”
Lindsay’s soft voice like soothing balm to the guilt overwhelming him, he stood and bent over her to give her a kiss. She reached up to cradle his face, her returned kiss so filled with tenderness that he felt tears burn his eyes.
“Lindsay, if anything were to happen to you…” he murmured against her lips, and she kissed him all the more fervently as if to reassure him again that all was well.
Well at least with her and their unborn child, Jared’s intense gratitude mixed with growing concern for Walker and Marguerite. He straightened to stare down at Lindsay. “Sleep now, will you?”
She nodded, though she glanced toward the door. “Go to him. It’s so terrible, Jared. His own cousin…”
Yes, it was terrible, Jared thought as he left her and strode from the room. Yet he and Walker had survived horrors before…too many to count.
Remorse once more gripping him that he’d judged his friend so harshly, Jared could only hope that his heartfelt apology would be accepted.
At the very least he’d offer for Walker to take a swing at his own jaw!
***
“Brandy?”
Walker tensed. He’d heard Jared enter the library, but he didn’t turn from the window. Instead he nodded, remaining silent.
He heard the sound of pouring, and the ring of cut crystal as the decanter struck a glass rim. He heard Jared’s low curse, too, which made Walker smile dryly in spite of himself.
Yet he sobered as quickly, his jaw still throbbing where Jared had struck him, something his friend had never done before.
Any differences of opinion in the past had never come to blows. They had always shared a respect for each other and a bond as strong as brothers. Exhaling slowly, Walker forced himself to remain calm—but damnation, he was angry!
“To your health, Lord Summerlin.”
Walker shot Jared a sideways glance and accepted the glass of brandy. Yet he didn’t drink even as Jared half emptied his glass with one swallow. Then Jared sighed heavily and shook his head.
“Dammit, Walker, a duel? Is there no other way? Notify the authorities about your cousin—something!”
Walker heaved a sigh, too, of grim resignation. “The only witnesses to identify Russell are dead. I’d swear the one that tried to stick a knife in my back was the same man I saw loitering on the street the morning Marguerite and I left for Scotland.”
Now Walker did drink, downing half of his brandy, too. Then he met Jared’s eyes. “Seemed odd to me. A dark-haired fellow, swarthy, but he tucked down his hat and disappeared around the corner before I got a better look at him. Makes sense now, though. After we left he must have reported what he saw to Russell, who guessed our plan and paid his cutthroats to come after us. Bastard!”
His vehement curse doing nothing to make him feel any better, Walker tossed back the last of his brandy. Jared did the same, the two of them standing near the window in silence for a long moment until Jared exhaled heavily.
“Probably the same man, just as you said. So no witnesses and only your word against Russell’s…and now a challenge to a duel in the morning. If there’s anything I can do, Walker, just name it.”
“Keeping your damned fists to yourself is a good start.” Walker saw at once the discomfort on Jared’s face, and knew he felt regret for what he’d done. “And to act as my second.”
Now Jared looked as grim as Walker had seen him in a long time…much like as when they had stood together on the Vengeance and watched their latest quarry burn to ashes upon the sea.
“Forgive me, Walker. For striking you. For judging you so harshly about Marguerite—”
“I love her, Jared. Love her! No matter how I might have acted before, I would never hurt her. She means everything to me…”
Walker could say no more, his throat grown tight with emotion.
He’d never before uttered those words, no, not even to Marguerite yet. Even when he had pulled her onto his lap during the punishing carriage ride home and they’d made love to forget for a time their fear for Lindsay…for Walker to forget how close he’d come to losing Marguerite forever—still, he’d not told her how much he cared.
“It’s a hard thing to accept you might be deserving of happiness after everything you’ve suffered,” Jared said quietly, guessing Walker’s tormented thoughts. “You saw how wretchedly I acted toward Lindsay aboard the Vengeance. Not because I didn’t love her, but because I didn’t feel I had the right to love her. Yet she never stopped believing that one day, I’d tell her how much she meant to me. Thank God, I finally did.”
Walker sighed heavily, the pain inside him only growing in spite of Jared’s words.
Tomorrow morning he would face Russell—if the bastard wasn’t already aware that he and Marguerite had returned to London, his cold-hearted and vicious plan thwarted.
As soon as the physician had assured them that Lindsay would be fine, Jared had carried her upstairs to their room while Walker had seen that the carriage was driven round to the coach house beyond the garden and hidden away.
Yet had it been soon enough if Russell had another of his paid minions watching Jared’s town house? Might he be devising a plan even now to murder them all tonight in their beds? His cousin had already shown himself to be ruthless enough, desperate enough…
“We’ll have to take turns guarding the front door until morning,” came Jared’s grim voice, clearly sharing Walker’s dark suspicions. “My footmen can watch the back of the house. Where’s Marguerite?”
“Took to her bed. After what happened to Lindsay…and exhaustion from the journey—”
“And worry for you.”
Walker nodded. The memory of her stricken face when he’d said to Jared right after the physician left that he planned to challenge Russell to a duel, was burned into his mind. He needed to see her, to hold her—
“What in blazes…?” A sudden pounding at the front door had made both him and Jared wheel around, Walker’s hand moving to the butt of one of the pistols at his belt. He gave the other one to Jared, and together they moved stealthily into the foyer, Jared waving away Sims who was ready to open the door.
“Who’s there?” Jared demanded, flanking one side while Walker took the opposite side.
“A message, my lord, from Lord Donovan Trent.”
Cautiously, Jared nodded to Walker and then opened the door, but not fully. The poor man standing just outside, clearly exhausted and dusty from travel, turned white when he saw the pistol leveled at him. Jared no more than grabbed the letter from the messenger’s shaking hand and the fellow turned around and ran for his lathered horse.
Jared shut the door with a resounding thud and drew the heavy bolt. “Sims, see that the back door is locked.”
“Yes, my lord!”
Walker watched intently as Jared slid the pistol into his belt and tore open the letter. Relief lit Jared’s face, and he held out the message for Walker to read.
“The missing tinners were found alive, onl
y minor injuries. At least things are well in Cornwall. Now go, Walker. See to your lovely bride and tell her the good news. I’ll call for you in a few hours’ time. Agreed?”
Walker was already across the foyer, calling out, “Agreed!” as he lunged up the steps two at a time.
Chapter 13
Marguerite closed her eyes and tried again to sleep, but how could she? Only one thought echoed in her tortured mind…tomorrow morning Walker would challenge Russell to a duel.
Tomorrow morning Walker would challenge Russell to a duel!
How could she go on if something happened to him? They’d been together for only a few days, but she couldn’t imagine life without him. No, no, she could not think any more that she might lose him!
Giving up on sleep, she threw aside the covers and climbed out of bed, deciding instead that she must find him. Talk to him. Plead with him! Surely there was another way besides a duel to bring Sir Russell Scott to justice—
“Walker…” Marguerite heard footsteps that she guessed at once were his the closer they came to her door, not leisurely but hastening toward her just as she ran to meet him. He had no sooner entered the room than she flung her arms around his neck and he lifted her from the floor, embracing her as fiercely as she embraced him.
Had it been only an hour since she’d seen him? It felt like days, weeks!
Dressed only in her chemise, she felt the warmth of his hands pressed into her back as he kissed her fiercely, too…as if he were thinking of what might happen in the morning. Then she felt him carrying her toward the bed, her lips clinging to his, her arms still wound around him.
She didn’t want him to ever let her go, but he did, to settle her upon the mattress. Not lying down, but sitting, her arms falling from around his neck while he knelt on the floor in front of her and clasped her hands. The curtains were drawn yet not tightly so afternoon sunlight filtered into the bedchamber, and Marguerite scanned every line, every nuance of Walker’s beloved face.
My Forbidden Duchess Page 10