Earl of Destiny

by K. J. Jackson

  Brianna nodded just as the crowd cheered. Her eyes whipped to the starting line in time to see the frenzy of the horses bursting into action.

  Nine horses hit the straight-away, and Brianna searched until she found Sebastian riding hard in the middle of the pack, angling for a space to break out and set Red Swallow free.

  Brianna went to her tiptoes, one hand gripping the railing as she found herself nearly bouncing with the excitement. The set of horses disappeared behind the trees.

  “Come, come, Lady Luhaunt.” Lord Bayton grabbed her elbow, dragging her to the other wide area of the platform that faced the finish line.

  Breath held, Brianna leaned back and forth off the railing on the new side, trying to gain position to where she could clearly see the horses past the jostling heads in front of her.

  The first horses rounded the trees, breaking into view, and the crowd erupted. Screaming, chanting, the masses below Brianna went frenzied, cheering for their chosen horses.

  Her eyes scanned the field. The string of horses had thinned around the corner, the fastest four breaking forth while the other five fell back. Sebastian was one of the four, jammed between two horses and trailing the leader as they rumbled past the crowd and the high platform.

  Her eyes flew to the finish line and back to Sebastian. The horses were just hitting the bottom of the hill. If Sebastian was going to break free, he needed to do it now.

  Whipping his horse hard, the jockey to Sebastian’s left made a break to push his horse past the frontrunner. It gave Sebastian an opening, and he followed suit, going for the opening to the frontrunner’s left.

  Halfway up the hill, the jockey in the lead yanked his horse hard to the left, ramming into Red Swallow.

  A mass of jumbling horse-flesh, and Sebastian went flying.

  He crashed to the ground, tumbling down the hill into the path of the trailing horses—horses thundering down at him.

  Brianna’s world froze in horror.

  The first two horses cleared Sebastian, jumping over his prone, still-rolling body. But the next horse didn’t veer, didn’t jump, and Brianna watched in terror as one hoof came down on Sebastian’s leg, and then a hoof came down at his head.

  Her wine glass shattering on the platform, she flew to the ground, shoving her way through the crowd, screaming Sebastian’s name before the last horse passed him.

  Full speed onto the course, she could see several men had already reached Sebastian, surrounding him, blocking her view.

  Her feet lead, she ran. Slow. Too slow. She needed to get to him.

  Seconds that felt like an eternity passed and she ripped her way in-between two men blocking her from Sebastian, skidding onto her knees. His head turned away from her, she grabbed his face, hovering over the top of him.

  He blinked, looking up at her.

  “Se—” Her voice choked, no air to speak.

  Her fingers ran over his face, his head—his cheeks, forehead, muddy. But the whites of his eyes were there. His brown eyes. His beautiful, kind, mischievous brown eyes looking up at her.

  “Seb.” The word came out this time.

  He grimaced a smile at her.

  “You are not dead?”

  He shook his head the slight bit he could with her hands clamped to his face.

  She collapsed, her forehead falling onto his chest.

  Not dead.

  Her heart pounding, it took excruciating seconds for her to lift her head. “Are you hurt?”

  Without an instant answer, her hands immediately ran over his body, searching frantically for broken bones, for blood. Brianna didn’t stop until Sebastian pushed himself up onto an elbow, grabbing her wrist to still her.

  “I am whole, Bree. Roughed up, but I will survive.” He looked up at the small crowd surrounding them, shooing with his head. “I am in one piece, everyone. Go congratulate the winner. Gather Red Swallow.”

  The men surrounding them dispersed slowly.

  Her breath still out of control, Brianna waited until the last man ambled away, her hands resting on Sebastian’s thigh. Squeezing his leg, she moved so her eyes were in front of his.

  “Your face, Seb. You are in pain and you do not want anyone to know.”

  His eyes narrowed at her. “How do you see that?”

  “How could I not? I do see you, Seb, even if you may think I try everything to avoid doing so.”

  Sebastian sighed, pushing up from his elbow to sit upright, gingerly bending his left knee to rest his elbow on. He flicked a finger out toward the leg still flat on the ground. “My ankle. The horse stepped on it. I do not think it is broken, but it is in wicked pain.”

  Brianna moved sideways to look at it, then started to stand. “Let me go get one of the men.”

  “No.”

  She dropped back to her knees.

  “Not in front of Bayton. I need to walk off this course. The man is judging me right now, Bree, and I do not want to forfeit my chance with him because I cannot stand a little pain.”

  A quick glance back to the platform above the crowd told Brianna that Lord Bayton was indeed, watching them. “What do you need me to do?”

  “Be my crutch. Can I wedge you under my arm?”

  “Of course.”

  “Can you handle my weight? I do not want to crush you.”

  “Do I look crushable?”

  That brought a smile to his face. “Proven once more, the excellent choice in a wife I have made.”

  He nodded to the platform. “Will you stand and block the view to Bayton while I get to my feet? But no helping me—not until I am up and it looks like I am just strolling down the hill with my lovely bride.”

  Brianna stood, her fingers twitching to help him, but she forced them to stay at her sides.

  With a grunt, agony crossed Sebastian’s face as he heaved himself to standing.

  She waited until he stood solid on his good leg before springing forth, wrapping her arms around his waist, her cheek tight to his chest. She took a moment to listen for his heartbeat.

  “A hug?” His hands went around her.

  She nodded, her cheek rubbing against his mud-caked linen shirt as she squeezed him without caution to any bruising his ribs may have taken.

  Loosening her hold, she looked up at him, slightly embarrassed at her actions. “And easier to slip nonchalantly under your arm.”

  She released him, sliding one hand across his back for support while spinning so his arm rested atop the back of her shoulders. His weight on her was immediate, and Brianna had to lock her knees.

  “Nicely done, my wife.” Sebastian motioned with his free hand. “Shall we go speak to Lord Bayton?”

  At that moment, a horse and rider crossed their path. Brianna immediately recognized the horse.

  She looked up at Sebastian. “Can you hold in place for a moment?”

  “Why?”

  “I need to speak with that jockey.” She started to lift his arm from her shoulders.

  Sebastian clamped down on her. “No. You will do no such thing.”

  “But it is not fair.” Brianna tried to wedge up his fingers that tightly gripped her upper arm. “He rammed his horse into you.”

  “It happens in races, Brianna.”

  “And it is not fair, and I am going to blast him for it.”

  His other arm went across the front of her, holding her in place. “That, you are not going to do.”

  Brianna tried to wiggle from his grasp.

  “Why are you so mad about this?”

  She gave him a perturbed look, realizing she wasn’t going anywhere. “If you must know, I bet on you to win the race and just lost a sizable amount.”

  “You did?” The devil smirk landed on his face. “You bet? On me? I would not have thought that of you.”

  “Placing a bet or betting on you?”

  “Both.”

  “Seb, do not be daft, I have full confidence in your abilities on a horse. I have seen you ride, for goodness sake. Aside from
the fact that you are my husband—who else would I bet on? And why are you not mad about him unseating you?”

  He shrugged. “It was a minor rub. There is nothing to be upset about.”

  “A minor rub that could have gotten you killed. That hoof missed your head by a hair.”

  “So you were worried for me?”

  “Of course I was.” Her head cocked at him, contemplating. “That is what you want to hear, is it not? That I was worried for you?”

  His head bowed, his brown eyes slicing into her. “Possibly.”

  Brianna stared at him for a long moment.

  She could lie. She should lie.

  Instead, her mouth opened. “My heart stopped, Seb. Everything stopped. I would not have thought it until that moment, but my heart stopped when you fell…and rolled…and then that horse went over you. I…” She shook her head, her eyes closing as she forced down the lump in her throat. “I cannot describe it…I did not breathe for minutes.”

  Her eyes still closed, his lips suddenly on hers made her jump. But the instant heat of him, the power of him calmed her, affirmed that he was standing next to her, alive and well.

  He pulled away. Soon. Much too soon.

  One look at her face and he chuckled. “I would continue, but we are about to become a spectacle.”

  Brianna took a deep breath, looking around, her anger still not sated. “Well, I still would like to yell at that fool jockey. You may be walking, but I did lose a pretty coin from it.”

  He laughed, loud and hearty as he pulled her even tighter into him. “Help me hobble over to Lord Bayton and then prop me up so I do not look weak. That showing of Red Swallow—at least until I was tossed—was hopefully enough to convince him of the mare’s worth.”

  They started walking, and Brianna was surprised at how very much weight Sebastian was putting on her. But as long as her spine stayed straight, she could handle it.

  “I think you could have every bone in your body broken and you still would not look weak, Seb.”

  He squeezed her shoulders. “Thank you for saying so. Let us hope Bayton agrees. And if the horse’s performance was not enough, I might have to leverage your charms to convince him.”

  Brianna guffawed. “My charms? I think you know full well how my charms lack.”

  “On the contrary, I saw you speaking with Lord Bayton for some time before the race. He looked quite interested in what you were saying, and I happen to know Bayton has very little interest in talking to females—unless they are mares. He is of the distinct belief that the fairer sex should be docile, dumb, and mute.”

  “I gathered that about him. But he was actually quite pleasant to me, and after a few moments we were talking about the horses you and the duke have at Notlund. And then, of course, we spoke of his horses.” Her head tilted, thinking. “Possibly, I can help. I did just spend a half hour listening to all of his views on horses and the care of them.”

  “I can see your mind spinning rampant, my wife.”

  “Luhaunt.” Lord Bayton waved his hand in the air, making his way out of the edge of the crowd, his cane quick through the dirt.

  “Luhaunt.” Slightly winded, Lord Bayton stopped in front of Brianna and Sebastian. “I dare say, man, your wife is far faster than that horse that trampled you.”

  Sebastian chuckled, tightening his grip on Brianna’s shoulders as he leaned on her. “That she is. She was rather quick to me.”

  “That she was.”

  “The privilege of a newlywed,” Sebastian said, looking down at Brianna with a twinkle in his eye. His focus went to Lord Bayton. “How did you enjoy the race, Lord Bayton?”

  “A fine race—until the end.” Both hands clasping his gold-tipped cane, he nodded. “A shame about the end. I would have liked to see your mare finish the hill. But I trust you are unhurt as you are walking about?”

  “Nothing for concern. Just a minor tumble.” Sebastian motioned to his left. “And there—my man has Red Swallow now. I presume you would like to take a closer look at her? Shall we walk and discuss?”

  Lord Bayton looked from Sebastian to Brianna. “Only if your wife will accompany us. I find her perspective on your horses very interesting.”

  Sebastian smiled. “I dare not let her leave my side.”

  “Good man, Luhaunt.” Bayton slapped his palm on Sebastian’s shoulder. “Good man.”

  { Chapter 12 }

  “I am concerned about Lord Bayton.” Clicking the door closed, Brianna moved back into the room and shoved the table in front of Sebastian to the side, its four legs scraping along the rough floor.

  Hands on her hips, she surveyed the private back room of the tavern, then grabbed the wooden chair Lord Bayton had occupied. “He was quite sauced when he stumbled out of here.”

  “The man can handle his liquor, and his driver will take care of him,” Sebastian said, watching Brianna as he leaned against one of the cherubs carved into the high wooden back of the long bench they had both been sitting on. “I am more concerned that he will forget our bargain, come morning. A bargain that would not have been possible without your gentle persuasion, my wife.”

  She glanced at him, pulling the chair across the floor, and setting it sideways in front of his knees. “Let me try my luck, then, in persuading you to put your leg up. We are alone in here now, the door is closed, and I have been watching your ankle throb—through your boot, mind you—for the past hour.”

  She bent to grab his right leg, lifting it and setting it on the chair. Sebastian thought for a moment to resist, but then relented. Brianna pampering him was foreign, but he was enjoying it.

  “And I can see how tight your shoulders are, my wife.” He snatched her wrist, pulling her down to sit next to him on the bench. “You must be in pain after holding me up all day.”

  His hands went to her shoulders before she could scoot back on the bench. Kneading deep into the muscles, his fingers worked her shoulders, her back, and he could see goosebumps rise along her neck as he brushed aside the tendrils escaping from her upsweep.

  “You do realize any success I had with Bayton was due to you, Bree?”

  “Me?” She turned her head slightly to look at him. “I merely used what I knew of him to persuade him that you were of like mind.”

  “Yes. And I am almost afraid of your delicate cunning.”

  She straightened her head, soft smile on her lips as she leaned into his fingers. “I do not know if that is a compliment.”

  “It is in this situation—and in most, as far as I have seen. You use your cunning to help your family—it is not used for evil.”

  She chuckled. “Well, thank you.”

  “I am just happy I am family—forced or not—and can benefit thusly.” The back of her neck so delectable, he leaned forward, kissing the middle divot.

  Straightening, Sebastian watched the fire in the deep hearth across from them as Brianna’s head fell to the side. He could feel her muscles under his fingers relax, turning to jelly.

  “Hmmm. When you are doing this there is no pain—no pain at all.” Her words tumbled out, slow, lazy.

  Sebastian stared at the bit of her profile he could see from his angle. Her eyes were closed, face relaxed. “You, my wife, are a marvel.”

  The smile touching her lips slowly faded, and he could see her mind start to work. He kneaded harder into the muscles lining her neck, trying to stave off her thoughts.

  “What do you want of me, Seb?” She asked the question without emotion, without moving. Just words sneaking into the room.

  His hands stopped.

  Her eyes popped open. “Did I say that out loud?”

  “Yes. And I have been nothing but honest with you, Brianna.” His voice went low.

  She straightened her head, turning to look at him on the bench.

  “I have been honest about my intentions. Honest about what I want in life. I want you. I want to know you. Fully and completely.”

  “And that must include my past?”
/>
  “Yes.”

  Her head shook, her hands falling into her lap. “You are not about to let that be an unknown, are you, Seb?”

  His head tilted to the side. “For now I am. Until you are ready.”

  “And if I never am?”

  Sebastian shrugged. “I am a patient man, Brianna.”

  Head dropping, she looked down at her fingernails pressing into her thumbs for long seconds. Her blue eyes came up to him, challenge clear in them. “What about you, Seb—your past? You never speak of your past either.” She took a deep breath. “I am fighting myself to want to trust you, Seb, but you left me so quickly at Notlund—you ran. And that is what Wynne said about you. You are the wind. You are always running. Why?”

  “Wynne said that?”

  “They both did. The duke said this is the longest you have ever stayed in one spot—up until you left a fortnight ago.”

  Blast it. Wynne, sure, she would share such things—but Rowen as well? Sebastian scratched the back of his neck, his eyes shifting from Brianna to the fire.

  “My past is open for exploration, but yours is not, Seb? Truly? You ask me to trust you with things I cannot bear to dredge up, yet you cannot tell me what is in your past. Why do you not stay in one place? Why do you refuse to keep a real home—a place that is yours alone?”

  His eyebrow cocked at her. For all he wanted to know of her past, he wasn’t sure that he wanted to bare light to his own.

  Her left hand slipped from her lap, landing on his thigh. “Tell me.”

  Still within reach on the table, Sebastian moved forward to grab his glass of brandy, drinking half of it before he leaned back on the carved bench once more.

  “My past?”

  She nodded.

  His eyes went to the fire as he fought down the crushing need to leave. The demanding urgency to get on his horse and move on from this place. But he knew it instantly—it would mean moving on from Brianna. She would never trust him if he left her again. And that, he could not have.