The Forgotten Duke

by Sophie Barnes

  Naughton laughed. “I’ll see you in hell first, Guthrie.”

  The edge of Carlton’s mouth lifted. “I’m more than happy to help ye on yer way.”

  It was then that Regina spotted the pistol he held at his side, partly concealed by his jacket. He raised it now without any hesitation and fired. Upon which everything descended into chaos.

  15

  Naughton dropped to his knees, taking Regina down with him. She landed on her hip with her legs twisted underneath her. All around, men were fighting. She couldn’t tell which ones were loyal to Patrick or who Carlton had brought with him, but she did know that she had to move out of the way if she didn’t want to get trampled on.

  Naughton groaned. His fingers curled into Regina’s arm, digging deep until she cried out in pain. “You’re mine,” he sneered in her ear. Scooting back, he began dragging her across the planking toward the side of the barge, heedless of the wound he’d sustained to his leg.

  “Carlton!” Regina screamed for the man who’d come for her as loud as she could.

  “Shut up,” Naughton warned. Sweat beaded his forehead, and his eyes had taken on a wild look that made Regina’s heart tremble in fear.

  She chose not to heed him and called out to Carlton again.

  A flash of vibrant purple, illuminated by the light from the nearest torches, caught her eye right before something hard struck her forehead. She fell back only to be jerked forward again and hauled to her feet.

  “Let’s get her into the dingy,” someone - a man who wasn’t Naughton - was saying.

  A sharp pulsing pain erupted right beneath Regina’s brow. Her arm was yanked roughly to one side as she was pushed closer to the railing. She groaned in response to the deep twisting ache and tried to look over her shoulder, tried to shove the man who held her aside, but it was to no avail. He was much stronger than her. And he wasn’t alone. A second man was with him and he was helping Naughton.

  Beyond the railing was nothing but endless blackness, shimmering like ink in the moonlight. Regina shivered and her heart ricocheted with violent apprehension. “No.” She dug in her heels and bent her knees, making her body heavy.

  “You don’t get a say,” Naughton told her with menace. He steadied himself against the man who helped him and glared into her eyes. “Best get used to following orders, darling.”

  Sickness churned in her stomach, threatening to make its way up her throat. A shout sounded, followed by thuds and then, while Regina watched in utter dismay, a blade, long and wide, flashed in the torchlight.

  The man helping Naughton opened his mouth, his eyes widened and started to bulge. A choked sound ground its way over his lips as crimson blood pooled there, trickling over his chin where it started to drip. Regina stared at him in horrified silence until his knees buckled and he sank to a heap on the deck. Right behind where he’d stood was Carlton, the dangerous gleam in his eyes and predatory quirk of his lips the only warning Naughton received before Carlton grabbed him by the back of his neck and slammed his head into the railing.

  It happened so quickly the man who held Regina only managed to take one step back before Carlton was on him next, the blade in his hand moving swifter than Regina’s eyes were able to follow. The man ground out a curse and started to stagger, but rather than loosen his grip on her arm, he held on tighter.

  Carlton reached out toward her, but her assailant managed one rallying blow to Carlton’s face right before he lost his balance and fell. Regina went with him, over the railing and into the freezing depths of the Thames.

  Ice, like a thousand knives piercing her skin, enveloped her body as it was dragged downward. Panic, the likes of which she hadn’t felt since she was a child and the boat she’d been in had tipped over, seized her in its claw. Her gown had caught on the rowlock back then, holding her in a downward position beneath the boat until Marcus had managed to save her. The fact that they’d both survived the incident was something of a miracle, considering the anxious despair with which she’d grabbed at him while he’d been trying to free her.

  Responding with mindless terror would not help now either. And yet, with her wrists and ankles bound, Regina could not stop from twisting and turning and tangling herself in her gown. The billowing cotton swirled around her like ghostly seaweed, impairing her movements even further. Her chest tightened and she knew she would soon be forced to inhale. And when she did so, the Thames would claim her forever.

  Renewed fear set in and she tried to yank her arms back, every instinct inside her insisting she had to escape the hand that gripped her. But the man with whom she was sinking held on, dragging her further away from safety and straight down to where only death awaited.

  There was no time to think, only to act. Driven by reflex and incomprehensible fear, Carlton followed Regina into the water. Dear Mother of God, if she died… His life would be over. It would no longer be worth living.

  All rational thought had fled when he’d seen her and the other women on blatant display. The rage that had filled him had been like a poison. It had eaten away at the part of him that might have shown some mercy until he no longer cared who lived or who died. The only thing that mattered was making sure Regina was safe.

  But when he’d shot Naughton, the fighting that had commenced had stopped him from reaching her right away. MacNeil, he knew, had managed to get hold of Ida while Claus had helped a young girl make her way to the stern. Meanwhile, the rest of Carlton’s crew had fought Patrick’s men like marauding pirates attacking a merchant ship. They’d gotten in Carlton’s way and now Regina might die because of it – because of a rash decision he’d made in anger.

  No.

  That wouldn’t happen.

  He wouldn’t allow it to happen.

  He’d save her, damn it, or he would die trying.

  The water pressed hard against his fingers, resisting his movements as he dove deeper, searching with his hands for something resembling a person. Just knowing how terrified she would be prompted him to force himself forward, even though his lungs were starting to burn. The chance she had of saving herself would be limited when her hands and legs were both tied. This would be a hindrance to even the best swimmer, but detrimental to someone like Regina who couldn’t swim at all. Hell, she wouldn’t even be able to use her legs as a means of staying afloat.

  He reached out blindly and felt something swirl between his fingers. There, then gone. His arms stroked through the water, propelling his body downward until he was able to grab long tendrils of hair and use them to guide himself closer to her body. He caught her, but she was still being pulled down by the man who held her, so Carlton worked on the fingers that clasped her arm, bending them back until they released. With his last remaining strength, he held on tight to her body and pushed himself upward, hoping it wasn’t too late.

  “Help her,” he begged Blayne when the big man had managed to get them both back on the barge. Things had quieted down and Carlton fleetingly noticed that Patrick was tied to a chair while most of his men were lying on the deck, either dead or wounded. The rest had been gagged and bound like him.

  Cursing the traitorous bastard, he returned his attention to Regina and hastily removed his jacket so he could throw it over her exposed body. Blayne had her belly down on the deck and was pushing against her back while Carlton struggled to catch his breath.

  He’d never been a religious man, had never set foot in a church or put much stock in the power of prayer. So he wasn’t sure how to ask an invisible force for assistance. Yet somehow, driven by desperation, he managed a silent plea that he hoped to God would save her.

  Please. Don’t take her from me just yet.

  Scooting closer to her, he placed his hand on her head and carefully stroked her hair back while Blayne kept trying to push the water she’d swallowed out of her body. A knot tightened his throat and his eyes began to sting.

  Please. She’s the most important part of my miserable life

  “We need to tilt her,�
� Blayne said.

  Disregarding his own weakened state, Carlton helped him hold her just so.

  Please. Let her live so I can tell her how much she means to me. So I can—

  A sputter and a cough caused her body to quake. She pushed up onto her forearm but lost the strength quickly and collapsed back onto the deck. A rush of relief swept through Carlton. He blew out the breath he’d been holding and grinned as he pulled her toward him.

  He looked up at Blayne. “Thank ye.”

  Blayne muttered something low and inaudible, then said more loudly. “We should get her back to The Black Swan so she can warm up.”

  “Give me yer jacket,” Carlton told him. It was dry while the one he’d draped over Regina was wet and cold.

  Blayne didn’t even blink. He just did as Carlton asked and soon Regina was bundled up in the Scotsman’s large woolen garment. Carlton made sure that she was as comfortable as she could be under the circumstances before getting up and going to where Patrick sat. Water dripped from Carlton’s hair and ran over his face. His clothes were pasted to his skin and a chattering chill was beginning to attack his bones, but answers were needed and he would get them before he left here this night.

  “Why’d ye do this?” he asked.

  Patrick glared at him and Carlton saw both contempt and regret in the young man’s eyes. “It seemed like a good way to get ahead.”

  “Have I not treated ye well then?” Carlton stared back at him. “If ye were unhappy, why the hell did ye not come and talk to me, Patrick? I’d ’ave listened.”

  “Maybe. But you would always have been my superior.”

  Sighing with the realization that he’d tried to do what he himself had once done to Bartholomew, Carlton chose to ask a different question. “Where’s Scarlet?”

  Patrick’s jaw twitched and anger rose up in Carlton once more as he realized the lad had lied to him earlier and that he actually knew the answer. Stepping forward, he prepared to grab Patrick by his throat, but the fury in his eyes must have warned Patrick not to keep silent.

  “Reynolds has her,” he blurted.

  Carlton stared into Patrick’s terrified eyes. “I’d like to kill ye for what ye’ve done.”

  “Please. I’ll do anything you ask.” Patrick no longer looked like the coldhearted villain who’d sold young girls to a fate worse than death, but like the helpless boy he’d once found in an alley, shivering cold and starving.

  Carlton reached for the dagger he kept in his boot and held it to Patrick’s throat. “Ye know what I think of those who abuse women and children.”

  Patrick gulped. “I didn’t do anything myself. I just…I just…”

  “Ye facilitated rape, Patrick. That’s not somethin’ I can ever fergive.” Carlton pressed the dagger into his flesh until blood began pooling around the blade.

  “Wait. Please. I—”

  “Carlton.” Regina’s voice was faint, but firm. His name, a desperate plea drifting through the night air, stilled his movements. “Don’t do this.”

  “He doesn’t deserve to live,” Carlton gritted.

  “Perhaps not. But if you kill him, you risk your own life.” She was silent a moment, then added, “What sense is there in that?”

  She was right. If he died now before killing Hedgewick, everything he’d worked for most of his life would be for nothing. Frustrated by this knowledge, Carlton turned away in disgust so he could address Claus. “I’m goin’ to send Blayne to Bow Street as soon as we get back to The Black Swan. He’ll make sure some runners, per’aps even the chief magistrate himself, come out here to handle this mess. Can ye and the rest of the men manage until then?”

  Claus nodded. “Aye.” He glanced sideways for a second. “What about the rest of the girls and young women – the ones we don’t know?”

  “Philipa can put them up at Amourette’s until their families are found. I know it’s not ideal, but it’s goin’ to be a hell of a lot better than what they’ve recently gone through.”

  “I agree.” Claus called out instructions and turned back to Carlton. “We won’t let you down.”

  Satisfied with this piece of knowledge, Carlton went to gather Regina in his arms. He might be wet and exhausted and close to getting seriously ill, but he would be damned if he’d let another man near her right now. Somehow he’d find that extra bit of strength required to see her safely back to The Black Swan himself.

  16

  She was submerged in something so wonderfully warm that it soothed every limb and made blood flow more easily through all her veins. Inhaling, Regina breathed in what felt like hot steam and then sighed, expelling it slowly. Perhaps she was dreaming? Perhaps the Thames had swallowed her up and she was now dead – floating lightly without any burdens to weigh her down.

  Something rippled against her side, stirring her conscience. Was someone with her? She leaned back into the mass that carefully buoyed her body. Her awareness rose and she suddenly recognized that cool distinction between wet and dry, the feel of liquid pressing upon her and the gentle splashes it made as she moved.

  “No.” She jerked upright, fully alert, her arms and legs thrashing about as her bottom slid forward and her head almost went down under the surface in her moment of panic.

  Something firm wound its way around her and pulled her back, holding her steady in a solid embrace. “Easy now.” The low murmur in her ear was wonderfully soothing. “Just lean against me an’ relax. Ye’re safe now, Regina, but ye need to get warm. We both do.”

  Swallowing, she forced her brain to focus on Carlton’s coaxing voice and on the feel of his body so close to hers, of his arms and legs caging her in. She inhaled again and savored the warmth for a moment before she opened her eyes. They were in his parlor at The Black Swan, submerged in water that filled a large tub. Her back rested on his chest, her head on his shoulder.

  He shifted and one of his knees poked out of the water. Regina stared at it until it disappeared once again beneath the surface. But seeing it made her realize what she’d not yet been aware of – what her muddled mind had refused to register. And as she focused her thoughts more fully, she finally had to ask, “Are we naked?”

  Her question was met by silence at first. And then, “It’s better than catchin’ our deaths, wouldn’t ye say?”

  She wasn’t sure she understood what he was talking about. “Why would we do that?” She was naked in a tub of water with Carlton Guthrie. And he was naked as well.

  Her cheeks started to burn, and not because of the steam in the air.

  “Ye don’t remember fallin’ into the water?” One of his arms tightened around her middle and pulled her back into his body more firmly. Possessively.

  She swallowed and tried to relax in spite of her chagrin. No man had ever seen her undressed and to think that he had, without her permission no less and while she’d been unconscious, caused mortification to sweep through her.

  “I need to get up,” she said, then thought of something, “and you need to close your eyes.”

  “They are closed,” he murmured.

  “But surely you must have seen…um…something. I mean…you—”

  “I wasn’t really paying attention to yer body, if that’s yer concern.”

  Well. That comment wasn’t nearly as uplifting as it should have been. Clearing her throat, she repeated her previous statement. “I need to get up.”

  “I nearly lost ye,” he said, ignoring her comment.

  Frowning, she tried to recall what had happened, but her memory was blurry. “I remember you shooting Naughton and then stabbing the man who was helping him stand.”

  “Aye.”

  He growled the word in a way that caused shivers to race down Regina’s spine. It wasn’t unpleasant. Which surprised her somewhat. Should watching him kill a man not repulse her?

  Not if he’d done it to save her life, she supposed. Not when the men he’d hurt had been eager to harm young women and girls in the worst ways possible.

&nbs
p; “You jumped in the river and saved me?” She suddenly remembered how wet he’d been when he’d gone to face Patrick. And how weak and unstable she’d felt on her legs.

  One hand reached up to caress her jaw. His moustache grazed her skin as he lowered his mouth to her ear. “I sure as ‘ell wasn’t goin’ to let ye drown,” he told her roughly and pressed a firm kiss to her temple.

  “Did I faint?”

  “Aye. Hit yer head on the barge deck before I was able to catch ye.” He sighed. “I’m sorry about that, Regina. I’m sorry fer all that ye’ve been through today.”

  “It wasn’t your fault.”

  “Nevertheless,” he grumbled.

  Although she hated the water and longed to escape it, she forced herself to relax against Carlton. Nothing would happen to her in this bath. Not as long as he was with her. He’d keep her safe. Of that she was certain. So she closed her eyes and savored the soothing warmth the water offered and the comfort she felt being held in his arms. Did it really matter if they weren’t wearing clothes or if he’d undressed her and seen her naked?

  No, she decided. This was the man she wanted to be with in every way that mattered. And maybe now, in this intimate state they were in, she would finally make him surrender to what she knew they both wanted.

  So she twisted around, causing the water to rise and fall with larger ripples until it splashed over the sides of the tub. “This is rather awkward,” she said, not the least bit pleased by the hindrance in movement the narrow space provided.

  “What on earth are ye tryin’ to do, woman?”

  “I want to face you.”

  “Face me?” His voice was slightly strangled, no doubt because of her knee pushing into his thigh. As if intending to steady her movements, he moved one large hand and brought it up under her bottom.

  Regina’s eyes widened with immediate surprise. Hovering over him, she saw that he was a little stunned too. Perhaps if she lowered herself…