Mia Marlowe
Page 28
Alex pumped Clarindon’s chest while flashes of their life together exploded behind his closed eyes. Becoming best friends at Eton after Alexander thrashed a pair of bullies who were tormenting the smaller Clarindon. Chasing the same debutant for one ridiculous Season, then getting roaring drunk together when she accepted the suit of an aging viscount instead of one of them. Going to war on the Continent together. The time Clarindon took a musket ball meant for him . . .
He swallowed back rising bile. “I killed my friend,” he said through clenched teeth.
“Ye had no choice . . . but for now . . . keep the rhythm . . . steady.”
Lucinda sounded winded. When Alexander opened his eyes it seemed she was kissing his friend.
“What are you doing?”
“Giving him me breath.” She paused long enough for Clarindon’s chest to collapse as the air escaped. She frowned down at him. “’Tis no’ working.”
Of course, it wasn’t. Dead was dead. Alexander reached for her but she straight-armed him.
“Hit him.” She bent to pinch Clarindon’s nose and blow more air into his mouth. “Hard . . . right on the center . . . of his chest.”
Alex bunched his fingers into a fist and brought it down on his friend’s sternum. The body jerked with the force of the blow, but Clarindon still stared straight ahead.
“Again!” Lucinda ordered.
Rage at the damnable choice he’d had to make boiled out of him and Alex slammed his fist on Clarindon’s chest with all his might.
Sir Bertram made a choking noise and Lucinda rolled him quickly to his side so water could spill out of his mouth. Then he sucked in a noisy breath. Then another.
“Where . . . where am I?” he said hoarsely.
Alex couldn’t answer his friend. He was too busy kissing his wife. His wonderful, soul-completing, Christmas miracle of a wife.
“The only certainty in life is that life is most uncertain. A title is no proof against adversity. Great wealth is no guarantee of happiness. But love is proof against the dark days that are sure to come to all flesh. In spite of all evidence to the contrary, the knowledgeable lady chooses the right gentleman with her heart.”
From The Knowledgeable Ladies’ Guide to
Eligible Gentlemen
Chapter Thirty-One
The long case clock chimed half past midnight as Lucinda and Alexander made their way back to the Great Hall, helping Clarindon along between them. Farquhar was nowhere to be seen, so they couldn’t zip back through the paths behind the mirrors. They had to climb the steps to the secret corridor off the laird’s chamber and then back down to the hall.
Lyall Lyttle saw them from his post near the doors to the Great Hall and came skittering across the long chamber. “Oh, well done, milord,” he said. “Well done. The curse is lifted.”
“How do ye know?” Lucinda asked.
“Weel, we’re all still here and moving and ’tis after midnight,” Lyttle said with a laugh. “And then there’s Meg Liscombe.”
“What about her?”
“The midwife reports that she gave birth just before midnight.” Lyttle grinned. “Twin boys, God help her.”
“Oh, that is good news,” Lucinda said.
“O’ course, we’ve also had a loss,” Lyttle said, his smile fading a bit. “Granny MacNair drifted off to her reward in her sleep, but after three hundred years of rheumatism, her family says she’ll be ever so happy to wake up in heaven.”
“So life has returned to normal in Bonniebroch,” Alexander said.
“Aye, milord, as normal as ever it was.”
The people noticed their laird had rejoined them and broke into a rousing cheer. They wouldn’t be satisfied till Alex led them in yet another toast, followed by spontaneous dancing and piping.
Lord Rankin pushed through the effusive crowd. “Lord Alexander, I was wrong to order you here. I see that now. Anyone who can move people like this should be closer to Lord Liverpool’s inner circle. If you still want to accompany the prime minister to Verona, I can arrange it.”
Alex tugged Lucinda closer. “Ye’ve mistaken me for someone else, milord. The name’s Bonniebroch and I’ll no’ be leaving Scotland anytime soon. Consider this me formal resignation.”
Rankin’s face flushed the color of the scarlet table runner as he stomped away.
“You burned that bridge and no mistake,” Clarindon said at his side. Sir Bertram was still pale, but he was gaining strength with every breath. “If you’re not chasing about in Lord Liverpool’s service, what are you going to do?”
“Do? I plan to stay right here and raise Blackface sheep.” Alexander winked at Lucinda. “And, if this lady will help me, a castle full of red-headed bairns.”
In answer, Lucinda draped her arms around his neck and pulled his head down for a long kiss. When she finally released his mouth, she whispered, “I thought I married a man of action. Ye’ll get no bairns simply by talking about it.”
Alexander laughed, swung his wife up over his shoulder and carted her, bum-first, out of the hall and up the stairs. His people were still cheering below when Alex kicked open the door to his chamber and carried Lucinda to their bed.
“No’ so fast, milord,” she said, her green eyes sparkling. “I’ll dress for bed first if ye please.”
“But what if I prefer ye undress?”
“Please, Alex.” She pouted prettily. “I didna get to wear the chemise I intended for our wedding night and I thought to please ye with it the now.”
“As long as ye dinna mind me tearing another one.”
Lucinda made a tsking sound. “What will Mrs. Fletcher say?”
She popped out of the bed and disappeared behind the dressing screen. Alexander wandered over to the chair by the fire to watch his wife discard items of clothing. One by one, gown, stockings, ribbons, and stays came flying over the screen to land on the floor.
Then Alexander noticed that Farquhar’s secret journal wasn’t in its hiding place behind the faulty brick in his fireplace. It lay open in the center of the chessboard. He picked it up and began to read.
My Lord Bonniebroch,
When you were successful in lifting the curse this evening, I fully expected to find myself in another plane. One might argue that my work here is complete and ’tis high time I moved on.
Apparently, the powers that be aren’t in agreement. Against all expectations, I find myself still in my tower as usual. If I can be of help to you or your good lady, I stand ready, as always, to wait upon the pleasure of Bonniebroch.
Your obedient servant,
Callum Farquhar, Esq.
“Well, Mr. Farquhar,” Alex murmured, “I can no doubt use your help.”
Lucinda stepped from behind the dressing screen. Her shining hair unbound, she was a vision in creamy lace.
“But no’ the now, Mr. Farquhar,” Alex said softly. “No’ the now.”
In his tower room, Callum Farquhar threw back his ghostly head and laughed.
ZEBRA BOOKS are published by
Copyright © 2013 by Diana Groe
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ISBN: 978-1-4201-2973-1
ISBN-10: 1-4201-2973-2
First Printing: October 2013
eISBN-13: 978-1-4201-2974-8
eISBN-10: 1-4201-2974-0
First Electronic Edition: October 2013