The Stolen Bride

by Brenda Joyce

  Rex reached for her hand and grasped it firmly. “Eleanor, Peter remains at Adare.”

  He had her full attention now. In some disbelief, she faced him. “Peter is here? Waiting for me?” She was dismayed.

  “I am afraid so. I think you must exercise some great control and dissemble now. It will not serve anyone to allow Peter to realize you are madly in love with Sean.”

  Eleanor was stunned that Peter was in residence, but then, it had not even been a week since their ill-fated wedding day. Her mind tried to grapple with the notion that she was about to face him now. “I can’t manage this. Not now, not when I am sick with fear for Sean’s very life.”

  “You have to manage,” Rex said firmly. “But he will surely understand that you must go directly to your rooms.” He gave her a nod of encouragement.

  There would be some respite then, at least until the morrow. But Peter would want an explanation. “I must let him down,” she whispered. “And I have no heart left to even attempt an apology or to find some pleasant way to do so.”

  “I must advise you against being honest with Sinclair. Eleanor, if Sean is not pardoned, you could still be in jeopardy yourself.”

  Eleanor understood that she was a conspirator to Sean’s escape, and Reed and his troops had seen her with Sean when they had apprehended him. “I am a traitor, too. I cannot deny it now and I do not want to! Maybe it is for the best. If Sean hangs, I can hang with him.” She meant her every word.

  “Don’t say that!” Rex cried, turning pale beneath his dark skin. “He is not Romeo and you are not Juliet! I am going to tell you what to do, and for once in your life, you will listen—and obey! You will not explain yourself to anyone, Eleanor, except for Sinclair, and you will tell him the story you told Reed. You missed your stepbrother, and believing in his innocence, you wanted to hear the truth from him. Somehow, in the excitement of the moment, you left Adare with Sean. You did not purposefully aid him in another escape, but once having left with Sean, there was no going back. He abandoned you upon arriving in Cork—and you returned to warn him about Reed after your capture. He is your beloved stepbrother, Eleanor,” he said harshly. “Nothing more.”

  Eleanor hugged herself. “There are a dozen witnesses to the fact that I escaped the garrison and went right to Sean. What sister behaves in such a manner?”

  “A sister attempting to warn her brother that a madman is on his trail!” Rex snapped. “Before this is over, marriage to Sinclair might be for the best. It might be your only option.”

  Eleanor gasped. Then she shook with fury when she realized the stand Rex was taking. “Never! I can’t marry him—I love Sean! And in case you did not hear, he loves me.”

  “I did hear. But it is too late. Sean might hang—but I will be damned if you will spend the rest of your life in the Tower.”

  She shook her head, tears spilling. “I love Sean. I am his lover! And I am not going to deny it.”

  Rex appeared furious. “If Sean survives, he is going to have to answer to me for that! So you intend to tell Peter everything? He loves you, Eleanor, and he has been nothing but honorable toward you. He is at Adare even now, sick with fear for you! And you will hurt him with the truth?”

  She became still. Peter deserved so much more than she could ever give him. “Of course I will not tell Peter the truth. I have hurt him when he never deserved it and I do not want to add more injury now. But I can’t marry him, Rex. I am in love with Sean.”

  “Even Sean wishes for you to marry Sinclair,” Rex said, his dark eyes flashing.

  Eleanor turned her back to him, staring out of the carriage with more dismay and sudden fear. Sean had been insisting she marry Peter all along. And he had insisted that she do so in the same breath that he had finally declared his love for her. She glanced at Rex. “In one way, you are right. I will tell Peter what I told Reed, as it is a much kinder version of the events.”

  Rex sighed. “Eleanor, I am not trying to be harsh or cruel. I am only trying to protect you, in the event that this situation becomes even worse than it currently is.”

  “I understand that. But why don’t we forget about my fate, as it is hardly in the balance now.”

  “We will discuss this again tomorrow,” Rex said, his tone softer, “when Tyrell has returned.”

  Eleanor had a dreadful feeling then. “Surely you are not thinking of forcing me to the altar when Ty comes back?”

  He smiled grimly at her as servants appeared, rushing from the house through the rain, but did not answer.

  Horrified, Eleanor realized he was contemplating just such an act. But she had no chance to really press, for her door was opened. The countess stepped from the house to stand above her on the wide stone steps, and then Peter appeared there, as well.

  Eleanor stumbled, her heart lurching, as she stepped down from the coach, aided by a footman. Her glance went from her mother, who was pale but smiling wanly, to Peter Sinclair. He was as pale, but he wasn’t smiling and his stare was searching. She was briefly overcome with nervous dread.

  Peter was a gentleman. As Rex had pointed out, he had done nothing but love, honor and respect her. In that instant, every moment she had spent with Sean in the past few days flashed through her mind’s eye, including every act of passion. She felt her cheeks heating as her heart accelerated. “Mother,” she whispered, tearing her gaze from Peter’s rigid face.

  Rex took her arm firmly, and with his crutch, began limping to the stairs. There he let her go, and Eleanor preceded him up to the front doors. She stole another glance at Peter, who could not seem to take his riveted gaze from her. The countess cried out, beginning to fight tears, and Eleanor went into her arms. “I am all right,” she said.

  “And Sean?” the countess asked, holding her hands, her blue eyes wide and frightened.

  Eleanor fought for self-control. “He has been captured, Mother.” When the countess started to stagger, she cried, “But he is alive and he isn’t hurt!”

  Her disclaimer did not matter. The countess swooned but Peter Sinclair caught her. Lifting her into his arms, he glanced at Eleanor. “Are you all right?”

  She nodded, filled with guilt.

  He quickly carried the countess inside, Eleanor and Rex following. When he laid her on an upholstered bench in the entry hall, her eyes fluttered open. Peter stepped back as Eleanor knelt by her mother’s side, taking her cold hands in hers. “Mother?”

  The countess met her gaze, her own moist with tears. “Are you truly unharmed?”

  Eleanor nodded. “I am dirty and hungry, but otherwise, no worse for wear.” And that was the only lie she had ever told her stepmother.

  The countess studied her and hesitated. Eleanor knew she had grave doubts about the veracity of that statement. “I have been so frightened for you, and for Sean. Where did they take him?”

  “Kilraven Hill,” Eleanor told her. She knew her mother had a hundred questions that she wished to ask, but did not dare.

  The countess sat up. “Darling, you need to rest. I will order a hot bath drawn and send supper to your rooms. Of course, I will attend to you myself.”

  Eleanor understood. The countess wished to whisk her away to a safe retreat, and would visit her there. “I do need to rest. I am exhausted,” she said. Then, her heart pounding, she slowly stood and turned to face Peter. She became aware that she was trembling, and she felt her face flame.

  An interminable moment of silence passed, one filled with tension and strain. But Eleanor saw both relief and anguish in Peter’s eyes. How much did he guess? she wondered.

  “Sinclair,” Rex said, breaking the silence. “I’d like a word with you.”

  Peter’s gaze remained fixed on Eleanor. “May I have a word first with my fiancée?”

  Eleanor’s heart sank. How could he still think to marry her? Or was his choice of words merely formal, as there had been no official breach of contract?

  “Eleanor has been through a terrible ordeal,” Rex said firmly. “One that
has included apprehension and interrogation by the British, when she is innocent of any and all wrongdoing. She must retire to her rooms.”

  Peter blanched. “Eleanor, are you hurt?” he asked. His regard strayed to the bruise on her cheek.

  She shook her head, daring to approach. “I have had a terrible time,” she somehow replied. “Peter, I am sorry for everything.”

  He took her hands, his gaze on the bruise on her face. “I thank God you have returned to me,” he whispered.

  Eleanor did not know what to do. She wanted to pull her hands from his, but did not dare.

  “Are you certain you are unharmed?” he asked, sounding shaken now.

  “Yes. I owe you an explanation,” she began, but he interrupted.

  “Your mother and brother are right. You must retire to your rooms. You need rest and I am calling your family’s physician. As soon as you are feeling a bit better, we can speak.”

  Had she really forgotten how kind and considerate this man was? “Thank you,” Eleanor said.

  He just smiled slightly at her.

  THE PRISON CELL had light and air. Sean saw that even as he was shoved inside by a soldier from behind. That fact could not quell his rising panic. Because the gray daylight creeping through the single window could not seem to ease the sudden darkness of the cell and he could not breathe. He heard the iron door slam shut behind him; he heard the lock turn and click. He began to choke on his fear and had he been laid in the raw earth, dirt piled on him, he could not have felt more terror.

  Reed laughed softly. “Do we weep now, O’Neill? Like a child—a girl?”

  He had heard the soblike sound, too, and it had come from his own chest. Sean leaned against the stone wall, facefirst. He wasn’t entombed and he wasn’t forgotten; this was not like the other time. This was not an eternity of hopelessness and hell. This was a prelude to a swift, certain death.

  He thought of Eleanor, whom he loved. Surely, once he hanged, her part in his treason would be ignored. She would be spared Peg’s fate… wouldn’t she?

  It had become impossible to breathe now. There were only bars in the window, no pane, but his lungs couldn’t seem to comprehend that. His heart raced wildly, sweat streaming down his body, and he was shaking uncontrollably, his nails digging into the stone.

  “Don’t worry,” Reed said softly. “Your stay here won’t be long. You will hang in days, O’Neill, because I intend to see justice served.”

  The stone scraping his forehead hurt, but he didn’t care. Sean clawed the wall and fought for air and sanity, but calm refused to come. “Eleanor?” he gasped.

  “Your lover is undoubtedly in the bosom of her family,” Reed said softly.

  “She is innocent!” Sean cried. “She is my stepsister!”

  Reed laughed. “She is your Irish whore and we both know it. So lovely, so soft, I am sorry I never had the chance to finish what I began with her.”

  Sean cried out, turning. “I am going to kill you, you sonuvabitch,” he choked out.

  Reed laughed. “How? With words? You should have seen the terror in her eyes when I cut her dress, O’Neill. Oh, she is a very fine woman, indeed.”

  Sean lunged for Reed, but he stood on the other side of the bars and he backed out of reach. “You will pay for what you did.”

  “Perhaps she will pay for what you have done?” Reed asked softly.

  Peg’s broken, battered image came to mind, this time so vividly he saw her every feature and all the blood. Peg remained gray but the blood was red—darkly and vividly so. Sean was determined then to kill Reed before he hanged, even though he was behind bars. How to entice him into the cell, so he could wring his neck?

  “But then, as she is as guilty as you are and the world will soon know it, she can pay for her own conspiracy. I think that would satisfy me far more than her rape or death. She will spend the rest of her life impoverished, imprisoned and alone, a woman forgotten, a woman of utter inconsequence.”

  Sean gripped the bars, controlling the impulse to lunge for his captor again. He fought to breathe and he fought for his temper.

  “There will be justice, on all counts,” Reed said coolly.

  “I am glad to see you intend justice, Colonel,” Tyrell said flatly, startling Sean as he and Devlin strode into the corridor from the anteroom. “It should be much easier to obtain with all of us working for the same honorable end.”

  Sean finally drew in the air he so desperately needed. Tyrell and Devlin were there. While his fate was undoubtedly inescapable, they would never allow harm to befall Eleanor.

  “Justice requires that O’Neill swing and you bloody well know it,” Reed said.

  “No. That would be another injustice, and I am reminding you right now that my stepbrother has suffered the gravest injustice already at the hands of the military—at your hands. He was incarcerated in a British prison for two years. He was falsely convicted. Adare is in London as we speak. There will be a full inquiry into the events of that night in Kilvore and Sean’s apprehension, imprisonment and conviction.”

  Sean felt some small surprise, as he hadn’t considered the possibility of an inquiry of any sort. There was so much authority in Tyrell’s tone and manner that real comfort came from his words.

  Reed’s smile was thin. “Is there a point? Because if so, my lord, I fail to comprehend it.”

  “There was a witness to those events, Colonel, and my brother is bringing him to London. Sean never committed treason and once that has been proved, he will be pardoned. I am warning you now that you will keep him safe—and alive—until that day comes,” Tyrell said coldly.

  Reed replied but not as smugly as before. “There are no witnesses. Every man in that village rose up in arms, and every one was killed—except for O’Neill.”

  “You are wrong. There is a witness and his testimony will clear Sean,” Tyrell said flatly. “But that will not be enough. Your actions are going to be scrutinized as if you were a rat being dissected under a laboratory microscope.”

  Reed stared, then laughed. “Such bluster. Who allowed you in?”

  “Brawley. And if you think to deny me access to my stepbrother now, after two years of mistaken incarceration, you should think again.”

  Reed’s eyes flashed. “There is no witness. I have done nothing wrong!”

  Tyrell smiled dangerously. “You touched my sister.”

  Sean tensed. How much did Tyrell know?

  It was a moment before Reed spoke. “I interviewed her—showing all the respect she was due. Apparently she tripped and fell when she was first brought to the fort. I would never touch a lady.”

  Tyrell leaned close. “Your career is at an end, Colonel.”

  Reed started. Then he snarled, “Do not threaten me.” He stalked out.

  Sean leaned against the wall. The hatred had receded, and so had the panic. He felt strangely calm. “Ty, don’t. Don’t bait him—he is too dangerous. He may go after Elle when he is through with me.”

  “I am not afraid of him, Sean. In fact, I intend to destroy him.”

  “Then you will have to get in line,” Sean said.

  Ty’s brows lifted. “You have done enough, I think, so I suggest you leave Reed to me.”

  Devlin stepped past Tyrell, gripping the cell bars. “You are ill,” he said bluntly.

  Sean almost laughed. “I am past being ill.” But he wiped the sweat streaming from his brow.

  “How can I help you now?” Devlin asked grimly.

  His brother somehow knew that being in a cell again was like being buried alive. Sean shook his head, forcing himself to take deep, steadying breaths. He briefly closed his eyes and then opened them. “There is not enough air in here,” he said with some difficulty. “But I know it is all in my head.”

  “Do you have a fever?” Devlin finally asked.

  Sean shook his head. “No—but I am mad. I have finally lost my mind.” He sat down on the floor, staring at it. Neither brother spoke. He finally said, “I don
’t care about myself. I am prepared to hang…it has been my fate all along and I can no longer avoid it. But Elle…” He looked up. “You must protect Eleanor. Find a way, Dev, to extricate her from any involvement with me. Reed has threatened her.”

  “Reed is going to find himself on a convict ship bound for Australia,” Tyrell said grimly. “Damn it! Eleanor is involved and a dozen troops know it. Did you purposely appear on her wedding day to sabotage her future—her life?”

  Sean recalled Eleanor, standing before her dressing mirror in her wedding finery, breathtaking in her beauty. His heart caught. He had meant to say goodbye, not steal the bride.

  “He has been through enough and we are wasting time with recriminations,” Devlin said coldly.

  Sean spoke slowly. “There has to be a way, maybe a trade…her liberty for my life.”

  “No!” Devlin snapped.

  “You don’t understand.” Sean looked at him. “I will gladly hang if she can live to a ripe old age with all of the creature comforts she deserves.”

  “I do understand. I understand that you are in love with Eleanor! There will be no such trade. First things first.” He was commanding. “Runners have been looking for Flynn. Cliff is now on his way to Kilvore—if he isn’t there already. They will find him, Sean. You will be cleared of all of these charges, one way or another.”

  “How can you be so certain?” Sean asked, because he recognized the hard gleam in his older brother’s eyes. It was a ruthless light Sean had thought he would never see again.

  Devlin smiled without mirth. “You might not recognize Flynn when you next meet him,” he said.

  An impostor would be brought forth if Flynn was not found. Hope flared—but it was too dangerous to entertain for long. “Soldiers died that night. In the end, I picked up arms, too.”

  “You tried to stop the rebels,” Tyrell exclaimed. “And you are a nobleman, not a peasant. Amends need to be made. Then there is the case of your wife and son. They deserve justice, too.”