The Stolen Bride

by Brenda Joyce

  “Devlin has gone to Cobh to make his purchase,” the countess remarked. Her face was pale with strain and fatigue.

  “And if his part in this is ever discovered, Dev has everything to lose, as well,” Tyrell said fervently. “As for my dear friend McBane, I could strangle his scrawny neck for waiting an entire afternoon before telling us what he knew!”

  “He is a traitor, too.” Lizzie defended her brother-in-law. “You should be thanking him for helping Sean in the first place, when he did not even know who he was.”

  “Thank God for Rory,” the countess whispered. “Lizzie, how is your sister managing?”

  Lizzie’s sister, Georgina, was married to McBane. “She is remarkably calm. I feel certain that Georgie has had prior knowledge of Rory’s clandestine affairs.” Lizzie went to her mother-in-law and took her hand. “They are all strong, determined, brave men. Oh, Mary, I know what you must be feeling, I do, because I love Eleanor dearly and having heard so much about Sean, I love him, too! Our men will save the day. You must believe it, for I do.”

  Mary embraced her. “The day you became my daughter was the biggest blessing our family has ever had,” she said.

  “Finally, something I can agree with,” Tyrell stated.

  A knock sounded on the door. Tyrell turned. “Enter,” he said tersely.

  A servant bowed. “My lord, a Colonel Reed is here to speak with you. He claims the matter is an urgent one.”

  Tyrell glanced at his wife and mother. “Send him in.”

  “That won’t be necessary.” A handsome blond officer in the blue uniform of the Light Dragoons strode briskly in, his blue gaze hard and cold. “Lord de Warenne, we meet at long last.” He bowed. Some sarcasm clung to his words.

  “Colonel,” Tyrell said cautiously. He turned to face the ladies. “We should like a private moment.”

  “Of course.” Lizzie smiled at him and taking the countess’s arm, they hurried out.

  “Would you like any refreshments?” Tyrell asked politely, very wary now. He had never heard of this officer and did not know him. He was afraid that any news he might be bringing would be unfortunate. “Wine, scotch, a whiskey?”

  “No, thank you.” Reed smiled, a mere curving of his thin lips. “I am here in regards to the escaped convict, Sean O’Neill.”

  Tyrell was instantly furious at his brother being referred to in such a condemning and frankly disrespectful manner, but he merely inclined his head. Losing his temper would not help Sean, and he would do everything in his power to help him now. “Obviously.” His tone was calm, quiet. “Is there news?”

  “No. The hunt continues. I should like you to tell me what you know.”

  “What I know?” It became much harder to control his temper, as anger turned to rage. “My stepbrother was imprisoned for two years and this family was never apprised of it. What I know?” he repeated coldly. “My stepbrother was convicted of treason—yet this family never knew of any trial. I know nothing, sir.”

  “I am sure the army has already apologized to your family for the breach of etiquette.”

  Tyrell tried to breathe. “Losing my stepbrother in a prison—leaving him in solitary confinement for two years—is hardly a breach of etiquette.”

  Reed sighed. “Yes, it was terribly bungled, was it not? I am not here to defend the prison system in Ireland. Did O’Neill contact you after escaping?” Reed stared.

  “No.”

  “But he was here yesterday. Three hundred guests saw him.”

  “I saw him, as well. That was, frankly, the first time I saw Sean in four years.” Tyrell realized that he needed a drink and he poured himself a stiff Irish whiskey.

  “So you did not know he was living in Kilvore, prior to the rebellion there?”

  “I was informed of that only recently, after Sean’s escape. I do not know the village.”

  “It is a small farming village in the midlands, south of Drogheda. And when O’Neill married, he did not write a letter to you or anyone in your family to share the happy news?’

  Tyrell was genuinely stunned. “He is married?” And all he could think of in that moment was Eleanor. She would be devastated when she learned of this.

  “I see you are surprised.”

  “None of us have heard from him, not since he left home, and that was four years ago. Colonel Reed, you seem like a reasonable and astute man. There may have been a rising in Kilvore, but I can assure you that my stepbrother was not involved. He has been part of the aristocracy here in Ireland since the day my father married his mother, when he was a small child. Someone else led those peasants, sir.” But the problem was that Sean had always been on the side of the farmer and the peasant. Tyrell feared the worst.

  Reed’s pale brows lifted. “But he is not a nobleman, now is he? His father leased land from Adare, did he not? The family is Catholic, are they not? There are no titles, and other than what Sir Captain O’Neill has amassed for himself in his naval career, there is no wealth.”

  “Is there a point that you wish to make? My stepbrother was raised in a bedroom just down the hall from my own, sir, and he has enjoyed every privilege that I have. My brother is innocent of treason, sir. Someone else led the villagers.”

  Reed smiled coldly. “I can assure you that he led the villagers. I was there, Lord de Warenne.”

  Tyrell stiffened in dread. “You must be mistaken.” But this was what he had secretly feared.

  “You are very loyal. But then, the Irish are a loyal lot, Catholic or Protestant, are they not?”

  Tyrell was precariously close to losing his temper now. “Do not slander us, Colonel. Not here, when I am gracious enough to allow you into my home.”

  Reed was not taken aback. However, he apologized. “I do beg your pardon. That was not my intent.” He was brusque. “Your sister, Lady Eleanor. I wish to speak with her.”

  “So do I. Unfortunately, as I am certain you know, she is not here.” The change of topic relieved him.

  “So she has not returned, after running away with your stepbrother?’

  “She has not returned,” he said flatly. How he rued the day he had not told Eleanor that Sean was an escaped felon. If he had told her, he might have realized beforehand what she would do when Sean came home, and half of this crisis would not exist. “And she has not run away with Sean. She has always been impulsive, sir. She has always been headstrong and rash. I feel certain that she was overjoyed to see Sean again, after four long years of separation, and that joy caused her to behave as she did. Her eagerness to speak with him would cause her to call out to him as she did. I am certain she did not think about her actions. She merely wished to see him and speak with him.”

  “Really? On her wedding day?” Reed almost laughed.

  He kept his face still when he would have loved to smash the other man’s nose. “Really. My sister happens to be in love with her fiancé. This is hardly a laughing matter, Colonel.”

  Reed remained amused. “I apologize. Do you think she was in contact with O’Neill since his escape—before they left Adare together yesterday?”

  “Are you calling my sister a traitor, sir?” Tyrell asked, becoming cold inside. And now he was afraid for Eleanor. This man was a threat, not just to Sean, but to Eleanor, as well.

  Reed’s smile vanished. “Of course not. But I should like to get all of my facts straight. Why would Lady Eleanor leave the wedding with her stepbrother?”

  “I believe I have already explained that to you. And to answer your previous question, Colonel, my sister had not heard a single word from Sean in four years—not since the night he left his home.”

  “Then answer this—why did O’Neill take her with him?”

  “I do not know,” Tyrell said, and finally, he was speaking the truth. Sean’s actions made no sense. “When they were growing up, Sean and Eleanor were inseparable, in spite of the seven-year difference in their ages.”

  “So they are very close,” Reed remarked shrewdly.

 
; “They were very close,” Tyrell corrected.

  A pause ensued. Then Reed said, “The gossip goes two ways. I have heard it said he has abducted her and will use her to get out of the country.” Reed’s stare became intent.

  “My stepbrother is a gentleman, Colonel. He would never abduct his own sister.”

  “O’Neill is responsible for the deaths of seven soldiers, and a prison inmate. That, my lord, does not make a gentleman.”

  “Circumstances are extenuating. Sean is innocent of all the charges leveled against him. I know it.” Tyrell stared at the officer in his most intimidating and condescending manner, when he knew nothing at all.

  But Reed stared coolly back. “Others say Lady Eleanor is no genuine sister.”

  He tensed. “I beg your pardon?”

  “I have heard it whispered, even in your stables, that Lady Eleanor is more than O’Neill’s stepsister, and that she is in love with him.”

  “My sister is in love with your countryman, Lord Sinclair,” Tyrell insisted, his eyes flashing. He must not allow Reed to ever learn the truth of Eleanor’s great love for Sean.

  Reed smiled, but his gaze was unflinching. “I suppose we shall see. If you learn of O’Neill’s whereabouts, it is your duty as a British citizen to apprise me of it. I am certain you know that failure to do so would make you a conspirator to his crimes.”

  “I shall be the first to tell you where he is,” Tyrell said, an outrageous lie.

  Reed finally laughed, the sound flat and mirthless, and walked out.

  Tyrell waited until he had heard the front door close. Then he kicked the door to the salon closed with all of his might and the wood cracked.

  He was very grim. Sean was in dire jeopardy, but so was Eleanor.

  Worse, Reed was a very dangerous adversary; Tyrell’s every instinct told him that.

  IT WAS ALMOST NOON. The sky outside was graying, threatening rain. Eleanor sat on the bed, hugging her knees to her chest. Sean had been gone for a few hours and she could not relax until he had safely returned. He had left the city to take a look at the frigate that remained hovering just past the city limits, and he had said he had other affairs to conduct.

  She had been afraid to ask what those affairs were. But she knew, didn’t she? He had to buy his passage to America and he also had to find an escort to take her home, never mind that she was not going to Adare now. She was not leaving Sean like this. And what about Peg?

  She hugged her knees more tightly to her chest, aching with hurt. Who was this other woman who was so important to him that he dreamed of her? Had he spent the entire two years before his incarceration with her? Eleanor was so afraid. He had said he didn’t love her, but that wasn’t a relief.

  She dreaded the truth but she had to know everything. She was determined to withstand whatever it might be. If she did not, how could she help him find his way back to the man he had once been? However, she was prepared for a battle. Sean did not want to discuss the past four years with her. He had made that terribly clear.

  Outside, the skies broke open and it began to pour.

  Eleanor ran to the window to close it. As she slammed it down, she saw Sean racing up the street and she sagged against the sill in real relief. A moment later he was banging on the door. She hurried to let him in.

  He came inside, soaking wet. Eleanor closed and bolted the door behind him. She turned. “Are you all right?” she began, about to ask him where he had been. But she stopped.

  He had shrugged his wet shirt off, revealing his beautiful, lean torso. But as he turned to drape the shirt over a chair, she was confronted with a dozen long, snakelike white scars on his back. She gasped, realizing that he had been brutally whipped.

  He whirled in surprise.

  She began to shake, she was so sick. “Sean! What happened?!”

  He stood still, his surprise vanishing, his eyes becoming guarded. “You already know. I was in prison.”

  “They flogged you?” she cried.

  He stared at her. “It doesn’t matter…it was long ago.” He turned away and she had to close her eyes, because the sight of his back hurt her so terribly. He put the shirt on the back of a chair and moved it closer to the stove.

  Eleanor tried to calm herself but it was impossible. She didn’t move away from the door. “Why were you flogged?”

  He was at the sink, taking a cup of water from the pail. It was a moment before he answered. “It was a test.”

  “A test?”

  He slowly faced her. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “It matters to me!” she exclaimed.

  His gaze was searching, and he sighed. “Elle, it was sport for the guards…the new inmate…the traitor that would soon hang.”

  She hugged herself. “There are so many scars,” she whispered.

  He didn’t answer.

  She bit her lip. “They picked on you, didn’t they? It wasn’t one time—they flogged you many times.”

  His chest heaved. “You don’t need to know.”

  She wiped the tears trickling down her face. “I do need to know, Sean.”

  “What difference does it make? They’re scars…. I’ve healed.”

  “Have you? Because I don’t think anything has healed except for your skin,” she said fiercely.

  He turned away, leaning on the sink.

  Eleanor hesitated, then allowed her heart to lead her. She walked up to him and before he could react, she slid her hand over the mass of puckered scar tissue. His back became rigid; he stiffened.

  “Why did they put you in solitary confinement, Sean?” she asked softly, her hand still on his scarred back.

  He didn’t move now. His breathing was labored. “I killed an inmate.”

  She was shocked.

  He turned abruptly and she was faced with an expanse of his strong throat. His movement caused her hand to brush his arm, and she stepped back. “You killed an inmate?” she said in disbelief.

  He wet his lips. “Don’t…look at me…like that.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I had to protect someone…a boy, really!” His eyes flashed. “No one else would!”

  She covered her mouth with her hand, cutting off her own gasp. How much had he suffered and how much more was there to tell? How much anguish could any one man bear? “You were protecting a boy?”

  His gaze glittered. “He’d been accosted…I had to stop it.”

  She inhaled. She thought she understood Sean’s meaning and it was too terrible to contemplate.

  “He died anyway…the boy, Brian. He died from the next assault. I didn’t understand that world…if not one bastard, there’s another.”

  Eleanor turned away. She couldn’t stop crying now. She wept for some boy named Brian and she wept for Sean.

  “Elle, don’t cry,” he whispered in a harsh plea.

  She didn’t want to cry, so she nodded and wiped her eyes.

  He caught her wrists, surprising her. “It’s over now…. That hell…it doesn’t matter.”

  She didn’t refute him, because it would always matter to her. She became aware of their proximity, his strong grasp and his wet, earthy scent. Moisture clung to the well-defined planes of his chest, and excitement surged in her body. Slowly, she lifted her gaze to his. Would she always feel such a powerful attraction? And how was she going to manage it? “Sean, why were you put in solitary confinement for two years?”

  He dropped her wrists and moved a step away from her. “The warden was dismissed shortly after my confinement. The new warden was a drunk. I didn’t know then…. I didn’t know anything until I escaped.” He met her gaze, anguish and revulsion mingling on his face. “I thought I would be in that black hole for the rest…of my life.”

  She swallowed hard. “You mean, the second warden never knew you were there?”

  He nodded. “But it was fortunate…otherwise I’d have hanged.”

  She could not imagine being locked away in such a manner and not having any i
dea of what was happening or how long such torture would last. “Surely someone came to see you in those two years? I mean, you were fed, weren’t you—”

  He cut her off. “There was a slit in the door. They fed me like a dog…the guards thought it very entertaining. The warden didn’t know I was there…the guards knew and didn’t care…. I saw no one, Elle…no one until the day I escaped!” His shoulders heaving, struggling with his fury, he slammed his fist into the side of the tin sink.

  Eleanor flinched. "Those bastards. How did you escape?"

  He glanced at her over his shoulder. The question seemed to surprise him, but oddly, his stiff body seemed to relax. “I took the warden hostage.”

  “So the warden—the second one—realized your existence?”

  He shook his head. “Another warden…Lord Harold…. Very sorry for the inconvenience! Came to apologize.” And Sean laughed, the sound bitter and shocking. “I was desperate.”

  He was staring at the bottom of the sink. Eleanor laid her hand on his back. The skin there rippled as he shuddered. “You must have been planning what you would do the moment someone, anyone, actually came to see you.”

  He turned abruptly to face her. “Yes.”

  His eyes were so hard and cold that she cringed. He had been through so much and in that moment, he frightened her. But she must never be frightened of him, because she had her own mission. “Thank God it is over.”

  His brows arched. “Is it?” And he walked away from her.

  She now leaned against the sink, watching him. “What about the trial? Obviously you weren’t there, yet you were convicted.”

  “It’s done all the time…. Surely you know that? It’s a military measure.” He pulled out the other chair and sat down. He cradled his head on his arms, as if exhausted.

  She tried to think, no easy task when she wanted to take him in her arms just to hold and comfort him. “Are you certain your conviction is legal? Maybe it can be overturned.”

  “Maybe.” He looked up, his eyes flat. “Probably not.”