The Viscount's Bride (Love's Pride Book 2)

by G. L. Snodgrass

  Middleton’s expression sagged in defeat. Johnson looked on as if he had lost his best friend.

  The Viscount paused for a moment. Why, what was she doing? What hadn’t she told him? He glanced at his butler.

  The man had mentioned that another note had arrived. Was that it? Had something in the note made her leave the safety of the house? What could it be?

  He thought for a moment, then realized. Him. She had left the house to save her husband. He knew it in his soul. It was the only thing it could be. He knew Caroline. At least well enough to know that she wouldn’t betray him. No, the only thing that could sway her to disobey his instructions was if she thought someone else was in danger.

  “The carriage,” he asked Middleton. “Anyway to distinguish it.” London was full of carriages. It would be almost impossible to find one.”

  Middleton shook his head in sad resignation. Both he and Johnson stood, waiting instructions. They felt guilty, Alexander could tell. But this was not their fault, they had done nothing wrong.

  It was his failure. He had failed to find her tormentor. Failed to keep her safe. A sinking feeling of guilt flowed through him. He would kill the man. If it took the rest of his life, he would hunt him down and end his miserable life.

  Before he could develop a plan, however, the pub door opened once again. The place was getting busier than a brothel on payday.

  A small boy stuck his head around the edge and studied the room. Johnson stiffened with recognition. The boy smiled with a cocky grin when he saw the butler.

  He walked across the room with a confident swagger. As he stopped before them, he looked each man in the eye as if he were their equal.

  “M’lord,” he said with that cocky grin.

  “Yes? Alexander said absently. His mind was racing, trying to determine where to deploy his men. Where was the best place to station them so that they might locate a specific coach?

  Should he place men on the roads leading out of London? How much could he trust Turner and his cut throats

  “Sir, this is one of the boys who delivered the notes,” Johnson said.

  The Viscount’s interest came back into focus.

  Middleton took a slight step to the right, placing himself behind the boy. Cutting off any path to escape. The boy saw the move. Alexander imagined there was little this young man didn’t see.

  “M’lord, sir,” The boy said with a little hesitation. The cocky attitude faltering a little. “The Lady said. If I was to see that man again. The one that gave me the note. I was to tell Mr. Johnson here. That she’d pay me.”

  Johnson nodded confirming that Caroline had said so.

  “Have you seen the man?” Alexander said as he held his breath. “The one who sent the note. Where, When,” He asked as he stared down at the young boy looking for any sign of falsehood.

  The boy swallowed then nodded his head. Then, as if remembering he had the power in this situation, he smiled.

  “More than saw him, sir. I knows where he lives. Sir, I followed him to his rooms. I thought the Lady might pay more.”

  Alexander sighed. Finally, something that had gone their way. A hundred men scouring London. And a young street child found him.

  “What’s your name boy?” Alexander asked, trying to keep his voice calm. The last thing he needed was to scare him. The child looked skinnier than a rail and as skittish as a feral cat in a front parlor. It wouldn’t take much to frighten him away. A boy who lived on the streets of London had to have natural survival instincts.

  The boy’s eyes clouded with worry. Names were dangerous. They could be used against you. He hesitated for a moment as if trying to decide whether to part with the valuable information.

  At last he came to a decision and said, “Stephan, sir.”

  Alexander nodded his head. One more thing. All he needed was one more bit of information.

  “Where is he?” he asked slowly.

  The boy shrugged his shoulders. “Don’t know the street name sir, I don’t travel in them parts much. I don’t know the word, sir. Never saw it before.”

  The boy couldn’t read, Alexander realized. Just like half the city.

  “But I can take you there sir. I’m sure I could find it again.”

  Alexander smiled. For the first time in days, he was able to relax.

  Combat, it was but a short time away. As always, the tension in his body disappeared and his focus narrowed.

  “Was he alone? Was Lady Caroline with him?”

  The boy frowned and shook his head. “I don’t know sir. It was this morning when I found him. I came to tell Mr. Johnson here. But they said I should come here.”

  Alexander thought for a moment.

  “Johnson, return to the house. I don’t know if this is a diversion or what. I want two men with the girls at all times.”

  “Yes My Lord,” the butler said.

  “Middleton, you are with me.”

  “What of my men,” the ex-soldier asked. “Wouldn’t it be better if I gathered them, sir?”

  “We don’t have time,” Alexander said as he headed to the door. “You, Stephan,” he said to the boy. “You will ride with me.”

  The boys jaw dropped at the idea of riding a horse. But he quickly got himself together and followed the large man. After all. He hadn’t been paid yet.

  Alex held the boy in front of him as they made their way across town. He glanced at the sky, they still had several hours of light. They needed to do this quickly. He was not going to let the man sneak away in the dark.

  He glanced back to make sure Middleton was close then turned his horse to follow the boy’s lead.

  Caroline, he thought. Was she all right? Had the bastard hurt her? He would kill him slowly if he had.

  Alexander pondered his feeling for a moment. Not a common occurrence but he had to admit. The burning worry that poured through him was different than anything he had ever felt before.

  He had become attached to Caroline. This wasn’t the simple responsibilities of being a man. This need to protect. This was very much more.

  She had become the center of his world, he realized. His business concerns, other women, everything, had lost importance the moment he thought he might lose her.

  Steeling himself he pushed those thoughts aside. Not now. He couldn’t dwell on it. He must remain focused.

  “There,” the boy said as he pointed to an old wooden building stuck between two taller brick buildings. “The second floor. The front sir.”

  “How do you know?” Alexander asked as he pulled to a halt and dismounted.

  “I saw him light a candle sir when he got home this morning.”

  “Good,” Alexander said as he studied the building. “Stay here with the horses. Middleton, take the back. If he comes out, it will mean I am already dead. Kill him.”

  “Yes My Lord. My pleasure,” Middleton said with a small smile.

  Both men handed their reins to Stephan then started for the building.

  “Sir,” the young boy said.

  “Yes,” Alexander asked without taking his eyes off the building. Was Caroline in there? Was she all right?

  “Um, the Lady said I would be paid?”

  Alexander turned, upset to be interrupted. Then he saw the look on young Stephan’s face. The young boy didn’t expect him to live through the encounter.

  The Viscount paused for a moment and removed two gold sovereigns.

  “Do you want these, or would you rather have a job. I’m sure Johnson could find something at the house. Or maybe out at Armherst.”

  The boy searched the man’s face. He had just been offered a chance at life. A chance to live without fear or hunger.

  On the other hand, two gold sovereigns. Alexander could see him weighing his options.

  “Well, what is it to be boy?” Alexander demanded.

  The boy thought for a moment, then smiled. “Both, sir.”

  The Viscount chuckled and threw him the two gold coins. Watching a
s the boy caught them both in midair.

  “Look after the horses. If anyone gives you a hard time, tell them you’re working for Viscount Beachmont. You’re one of his men now.”

  The young boy’s chest swelled with pride. “Yes, sir,” he said. Alexander knew that it would take a battalion of veteran soldiers to get those horses away from the boy.

  Now, to the business at hand. He had a Lady to rescue and a man to kill.

  Chapter Twenty Six

  Carolyn had made a mistake. A bad mistake. The man was insane. She realized that now. The way his eyes never seemed to rest. His mumbling to himself under his breath.

  He’d forced her into a chair then tied her hands behind her back. Every time she tried to rise he’d pushed her back down. Those long yellow nails had raked her shoulder making her shudder with revulsion.

  Her skin crawled with dread. What had she allowed herself to be lured into? There would be no reasoning with the man. Her heart sagged with a sickening feeling of guilt. What would Alexander say?

  The Demon, the man of her nightmares, had dragged her from the coach as if she were a sack of potatoes. Pulling her up the stairs and into this one room apartment.

  She had thought of screaming. But a quick examination of the neighborhood had convinced her there wouldn’t be much use. The people here wouldn’t have cared.

  She wouldn’t be the first woman who screamed on this street. Nor likely the last.

  Her heart pounded, and her hands were in a constant sweat. Escape. Her only hope was to escape. To run. She glanced at the door. He hadn’t locked it. Could she get her hands free? Get out before he stopped her? Maybe if …

  Without warning, he broke out into an evil cackle. His laughter sending nervous shivers across her shoulder blades. The man was crazy, lost in his own world with its own demons.

  He caught her looking at the door and sprang across the room to throw the bolt. Looking back at her his beady eyes studied her as if she were the devil himself. Then he threw his head back and laughed. A quick bark followed by a chuckle from deep in his chest.

  She sighed internally. There was no possibility of the window. She couldn’t open it and make her way out before he stopped her.

  What had she done? Closing her eyes for a moment she sent up a silent prayer. Alexander. Her only hope was Alexander.

  The monster across from her smiled slowly. Caroline shifted under his steady stare as her heart fell. He reached to his boot and removed a long slim blade.

  She knew the type well. A fisherman’s blade. Made for cutting line, gutting fish, or severing a man’s head from the rest of his body.

  She swallowed. Why? What did he need that for? He could easily overpower her.

  “What do you want?” she asked. Maybe if she could get him to talk.

  He cocked his head to one side and studied her for a moment.

  “Sixty-Four thousand pounds,” he said as if asking for an ale at the local pub. “The money your father stole from us.”

  Carolyn gasped. Is that where her father had gotten his fortune. Had he stolen it from his fellow smugglers? Taken their ill-gotten gains. It made sense. The midnight escape from the Dorset house. The refusal to talk about it.

  Had he brought French spies to the coast then absconded with the money.

  Still, that seemed like an awful lot for a smuggling ring. It was more than a yearly wage for a thousand men. What could be so valuable?

  She didn’t deny it. The man was unstable. The last thing she wanted to do was get into an argument with him. There would be no reasoning with him.

  Instead, she nodded her head. “I understand, my husband, I am sure he could get you the money.”

  She had no idea if Alexander had that kind of money. It seemed a King’s fortune. And even if he did, would he pay that much for her ransom.

  Not what a common fisherman’s daughter was worth.

  The man stopped his pacing and swirled to face her.

  “Your husband? I want more than the money,” he said as he held the knife before him. Pointing it at her with each word. Emphasizing how much she owed him.

  “A lot more than the money,”

  An evil grin crossed his face as he leered at her. It wasn’t the look of an evil man for a pretty woman. This was more. The look of a wolf with a trapped rabbit.

  Caroline’s heart fell. If he had wanted her body. She could fight that. She could deal, promise, whatever it took. But this madness? There was no escape, there would be no changing his mind.

  He wanted her life. And nothing else would relieve him of his nightmares.

  Carolyn swallowed hard. Do not let him see your fear, she reminded herself. Whatever happens, don’t show him you are afraid. That is what he wants.

  She could see the way his eyes searched hers. Looking for any weakness, any sense of shame.

  Gathering herself she raised her chin. “Well, I don’t know about my father. But I am sure we can work something out. As I said. My Husband …”

  The man jumped across the room bringing his knife to her throat as he slid an arm across her chest.

  Caroline screamed. The high pitched sound escaping her throat before she could stop it. He smiled and held her in place as he slowly scraped the knife over her skin.

  “Shhh,” he whispered. His breath reeking of garlic. A mad light in his eyes sent a chill through her. The cold metal gently parted her skin. Just enough to draw blood.

  She froze, afraid to move. She couldn’t even swallow, afraid to make the cut deeper. Please, not here, not like this, she prayed. Her hands clenched into fists as she pulled against her bonds.

  He was going to kill her. She knew it to her very soul. It wasn’t the money he wanted. It was revenge. It had eaten at him for fifteen years. Tormented him. Twisted and pulled his mind into a misconfigured monster.

  She was lost. Her hands tied behind the chair. His arm across her chest, the knife at her neck.

  “Caroline?” A deep male voice questioned from the hall.

  Her heart jumped into her throat. A throat that was already too tight with the knife pressing against it.

  Before she could yell for him, a rough hand, with long yellow fingernails clamped over her mouth. She twisted to try and break free but the hand held in place and the knife came back to her throat. Forcing her to stop moving.

  It was Alex. He had found her. How? So quickly. The man was a miracle. She had to let him know she was in here.

  Before she could move or squirm away, the door crashed open to slam against the wall.

  Alex stood there with his typical angry scowl. The man was a hero. Every inch of him, Confidence, strength, power, and eyes that could pin a person in place.

  The Demon next to her pulled at her chin. Lifting it so that Alex could see the cold blade resting against her throat.

  Alex scanned her eyes. He looked sorry, she thought. As if this was his fault. She tried to tell him of her love. Tried to use her eyes to let him know how she felt. Suddenly the most important thing in the world was that he know about how she felt.

  But the hand across her mouth stopped her from pouring out her heart. Probably a good thing, the last thing she needed to do was embarrass herself. She did not want Alex’s last impression of her to be her babbling on about love.

  Alex stepped into the room then turned, and calmly closed the door. His scowl had shifted into a neutral expression. He was doing everything possible to placate her attacker.

  His eyes watched the Demon. Traveling over his arm to the knife at her throat.

  “My Dear,” he said to Caroline. Then raising his eyes to the Demon, he smiled. A calm, non-threatening smile.

  “My good man,” he said with his best aristocratic voice. The one that sounded confident and reassuring. As if there wasn’t a problem that couldn’t be dealt with. Even dressed in workman clothes. This was a voice that let the world know he was in charge. There was nothing to worry about. He would solve everything.

  “I do believe
that is my wife,” Alex continued.

  Caroline had to stop herself from laughing. The tension rushing through her needed be released.

  “You.” The Demon hissed. “Go away. Leave.”

  Alexander smiled again. “Of course. But I will need to take my wife with me. She is needed at home.”

  “NO,” The man screamed. “She is mine. She must pay.”

  Alex didn’t react. Caroline watched his eyes. Did he care so little, she wondered?

  “Ah, now we get down to it. How much, I am sure we can work something out. Just let her go.” Caroline noticed that her husband had moved closer as he spoke.

  “NO,” the man yelled again. Pushing the knife tighter against her skin once more.

  Alex froze, holding his hands out. “Very well,” he said. “But why? What has she done? Do you even know this woman? She is an angel. A caring, thoughtful, loving person. What has she done?”

  Caroline’s heart turned over. Did he really think that about her or was he just saying it to calm the man down?

  “I tell you what. Why don’t you let her go,” Alex said as he took another step towards them. “Take me instead. Lady Beachmont can get you the money you need,”

  The Demon realized what he was doing and twisted her neck.

  “Back, I will kill her,” he yelled.

  Alex held up his hands again, as if in surrender, but she noticed he didn’t back up. Instead, he held steady in place.

  “If you do that, then I will have to kill you and you will not be able to spend the money. You want the money don’t you?”

  “She must pay for her father,” He said. Once again her heart fell. Why?

  “Her father had a letter of Marque,” Alex said. “His actions were perfectly normal in a time of war. In fact, quite honorable.”

  What was he saying? Caroline wondered. What did he know of her father? Was it true?

  “If you think about it,” Alex said. “A Letter of Marque for a fishing boat is rather unusual. But his Majesty’s government agreed to issue it to him.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” the Demon said. “He stole from me. They thought I took it. Even Napoleon didn’t believe me. I had to run, to hide. Me, Count Andrew De Paul, hiding like a common criminal.”