Earl of Destiny

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Earl of Destiny Page 18

by K. J. Jackson


  It took the longest moment, her eyes not leaving his, for her mouth to open. “I did not tell you about Harry…” Words faltering, she took a deep breath.

  Silent, Sebastian dragged his thumb across her cheeks, wiping away fresh tears.

  “I did not tell you because the last time I trusted someone—loved someone—he almost killed me.” Her voice crept out, tiny.

  “Gregory?”

  She nodded. “And then he killed my father. I loved him—I was going to marry him—and he…he tortured me…cut me.”

  “Hell, Bree. The scars?”

  “He was after Harry. Sent to kill him.” Her eyes dropped to his chest, her voice a whisper. “It was through me. All of it. It was how Gregory got into our lives, into the viscount’s house. It was through me. He convinced me he loved me. He was in our home all the time. He ate at our table. Drank port with my father and the viscount. Again and again. And I never suspected. Never. I was so stupid.”

  Her eyes came up to Sebastian’s. “Gregory was the one that killed the viscount. Papa saw him come from the viscount’s room, bloody knife in hand. Gregory was going into Harry’s room, but Papa scared him off. Papa woke me up with Harry in his arms. He knew I could ride. Ride fast. He told me to take Harry and go to the village, wait in the back of the church, let no one see us. We waited, Harry and I. We waited all night until Papa came to us. Then he sent me back to the estate and moved on with Harry. He only said that Harry was in danger. And Harry was so little then—so little. He had just started to walk, talk. I knew that Papa had hidden him away, far from the estate, but I did not know where. When he came back, he told me, told Lily to never speak Harry’s name again. But he did not tell me who had killed the viscount, who was after Harry, only that it was a man. If only—if only he would have told me.”

  “Why did he not tell you?”

  “Why did he not tell me?” Her eyes flew to the sky, head shaking. “To spare my feelings? To protect me? I do not know. If only he had told me immediately that the man was Gregory. I never would have walked into that deserted abbey.”

  Her head slowly fell, her look glazing over. “I was so sad that day. It was after the viscount’s funeral, and I missed Harry, and I was so sad. I had not seen Gregory in days—I missed him so much and was wondering where he was. That was where we would meet, Gregory and I. So that was where I went. I would not have gone…Gregory was hiding in there and he thought I knew where Harry was. He tied me down, and he had the knife and…he…he…”

  Her left leg jerked.

  “You do not need to say the words, Bree.”

  She swallowed back a sob, and Sebastian could see the horror of the memory filling her head. Her eyes shut tight, tears still escaping as her head trembled between his hands.

  “I did not understand what was happening. Hours. Hours of pain. Hours of his words, his viciousness, tearing at me. Hours before I understood what was happening. He would cut me and ask. Make me scream and ask. Even then, I did not believe it. That he had never loved me. That the sight of me sickened him. I could not believe it. And I could tell him nothing—I knew nothing of where Harry was, but it did not stop him. To the very end, I could not believe what was happening—I loved him. He loved me. But it was a lie. A lie. All of it. Every moment we had shared was replaced with hours of his knife…of pain. What he said. And then Papa found me. He tried to save me, he came in—”

  A sob escaped, cutting her words.

  His heart breaking for the terror his wife had suffered, Sebastian’s hands went down around her shaking body and he pulled her close, holding her head to his chest.

  “Papa shot him—the bullet hit his eye and Gregory dropped. But it did not kill him. Papa had turned to free me, and Gregory attacked him from behind. I was still tied down. He slit Papa’s throat in front of me. And then he disappeared—stumbled out of the abbey.”

  “He did not try to kill you as well?”

  She took a deep breath, steadying herself. Her voice became the tiniest bit stronger. “No. For the longest time, I did not understand why he did not kill me. I thought it was his wound that made him leave, but then I realized after he killed Papa, I was his only connection to where Harry might be. I was the one that took Harry away from the estate, even though I did not know at the time where Papa brought him.”

  She wedged her head upward to look at him. “That, Seb, that was the only reason I survived—I did not know where Harry was. Through the torture, it was the only thing that saved me. Had I known, I would have broken—I would have told him, and he would have killed me. And then he would have found and killed Harry. That is why Lily knows nothing of this—and can never know—it may be the only thing that saves her. No one can know. It is why I did not want you to know.”

  Sebastian’s hand clamped onto the back of her head. “Dammit, Bree. You have hidden all of this from everyone? Lily, the duke, Wynne, me? This is madness, Bree. Sheer madness.”

  She pushed back from his chest, her eyes on fire. “Is it, Seb? Is it? Gregory is still out there. Still in the woods, in the towns, in the fields. Still everywhere. How else am I to protect Harry? Lily? And I have not—for one second—not been afraid he would appear. Appear and tie me down…the only difference is that I know this time—I know where Harry is, and I do not think I could suffer his knife again…the pain…not without breaking. And if I break, then I am helping him to murder an innocent little boy.”

  “But to not ask for help—”

  “You may think my decisions stupid, Seb, but has someone you loved—more than life—ever died in front of you? Taken their last breaths before you?”

  “No.”

  “I was bound to that chair, Seb. Watching my father look up at me. Blood seeping from his neck. His eyes—his beautiful blue eyes—to the very end, telling me all would be well—that I would survive. And I could not go to him. Could do nothing. Could only watch the last breath leave his body. Watch his eyes flicker out, still fixed upon me, even in death.” She swallowed hard and had to force her next words out. “You do not know the horror of it—what you would give to never have to feel that pain again. But I do. So do not judge what you think are misguided decisions, Seb. I have only done what I needed to. I am never going to feel that pain again.”

  “Bree, you should not do this alone.”

  “Who then, Seb? Who? Who should I set in harm’s way for my own gain? Lily? The duke and duchess who have taken us in and very generously given Lily the life she wanted?”

  “Me?”

  A sharp intake of breath, and her head shook instantly, horrified. “No. Not you, Seb. I could never forgive myself if…”

  He grabbed her head in a growl. “Stop, Bree. Stop your damn mind. Stop trying to see into the future and fight it—protect everyone from it. Nothing is going to happen to me and you damn well need to start trusting me as your husband. Trusting me to protect you.”

  Her hands came up, gripping his wrists. “But this is not your problem, Seb.”

  His palms moved down, cupping her face. “Are you my wife, Bree?”

  She nodded.

  “Then it damn well is my problem.”

  A shuddered breath, and her eyes closed to him. She was still resisting him. Still unable to let him protect her.

  Sebastian let his hands fall from her face. “There must be others that can take care of the boy, Bree. Others that can keep him safe.”

  “There is not. And I am not about to sacrifice an innocent child, Seb. I love that boy. We were a family—we are family—why would I not protect him?”

  “There is not an uncle, a cousin?”

  Her eyes narrowed at him. “Who do you think sent Gregory?”

  “No. You do not mean.”

  “I do. Harry has only one living relative, an uncle. An uncle that very swiftly had Harry declared dead and taken over the title and the estate. I could not stop that. But I could keep Harry safe. Papa knew it was the uncle—it was why he sent me away that night with Harry. He kn
ew the uncle would be notified right away about the viscount’s death, and papa could not chance Harry being given to his uncle’s care. Papa told him Harry had disappeared, most likely taken by the man that killed the viscount. But I do not know if the uncle truly believes Harry to be dead or not. So what do you think would happen if Harry resurfaced?”

  Sebastian exhaled a long sigh. “Nothing good.”

  “Exactly. Gregory or not, the threat has not gone away.”

  “So who is Harry with now?”

  “It took months of digging through Papa’s papers and searching, but I found he had hidden Harry with his fourth cousin, Frannie. She was the only person he trusted. But when I found them, I did not know if Gregory was still alive, still after Harry. Or if his uncle would send someone else. The threat on Harry still exists. So I have kept them hidden and every six months or so I have moved them to a new town—I cannot chance them being in one place for long. Chance his uncle or Gregory following a trail to them. This is the only way I can think of to keep Harry safe.”

  Sebastian stared at Brianna’s face. She was still holding back. “But what happened, Bree? Why did you go to them today?”

  For a moment, she resisted, but than a small acquiescing sigh escaped. “I need to move them. There was a death. I had hired an associate of Mr. Flemming’s, Mr. Welbury, to track down Gregory, to discover if he was dead or alive. It was why I had to meet Mr. Flemming several days ago. Mr. Welbury was not only trying to find Gregory, but he was also looking for evidence that Gregory was working for Harry’s uncle.”

  She stopped herself, her head dropping.

  “Did he discover anything?”

  Brianna did not look up at him. “Yes. Gregory is alive. And then Mr. Welbury was killed.”

  “Dammit, Bree.”

  Her hands came up, hiding her face. “His death is upon me, I know that Seb.”

  “Brianna, you do realize it is not a secret that you and your sister are living at Notlund with the duke and duchess? That Gregory can easily find you?”

  “Of course I know that, Seb.” Her hands dropped from her face, her blue eyes snapping to him. “But I thought he was dead…I hoped it…but then…”

  Her voice started to tremble. “All of it—it is too much—this has spiraled so far out of control, Seb. I do not know for certain if Harry’s uncle truly believes him to be dead. And I thought we would visit the duke and duchess and that would be the end of it—I did not think we would end up in London, and that Lily would become a sensation, and that I would have to marry, and that Mr. Welbury would be killed, and that Gregory…I…I had planned that if he was alive, he would be caught and hung by now. And I have been holding on, Seb. I have been holding so tight, but now—”

  Her voice caught, swallowing a panicked sob. “I am tired, Seb. So very tired and I do not want any of this. I do not want what happened. What I have become. I cannot be all of this—trying to keep Lily and Harry safe—and then you, your face when you found me with Harry.”

  Sebastian grabbed her, yanking her into him, his hand deep in her hair, stilling her words. Stilling her mind.

  “Hell, Bree. I do not know whether to keep you wrapped in my arms for finally telling me this or to condemn you for keeping this from me.”

  He could feel her swallow hard against his chest. “I have just been trying to keep everyone safe, Seb. You included. If anything happened to you, I…”

  He gripped her tighter onto his chest, his lips going to the top of her head. “I say it again, Bree, nothing is going to happen to me. And this is no longer your battle to fight.”

  She angled her face upward. “I will not give up Harry to anyone, Seb.”

  “I know. I will keep him safe. I swear it.” His fingers went through her hair, landing on the nape of her neck. “I will keep you safe, Bree. You must believe that.”

  “I do.” She nodded, her blue eyes, for the very first time, clearly trusting. “But I did not want you in danger. I did not want this to become your trouble.”

  “I married you, Bree. All of you. I do not take the good parts, and leave you with the bad.” He tucked her head under his chin, his gaze going upstream. The rushing water instantly reminded him of her calf, and he glanced at her leg, still in the stream.

  Her scars. The bastard lying to her. Cutting her.

  Watching his wife try to cut away the past with a rock.

  The rage that had been pulsating in his belly reignited. He gripped Brianna tighter.

  “Hell, Bree, how did you ever let me touch you?”

  “I resisted, if you recall.”

  “As you should have.” His fingers clamped around the back of her neck. “I understand, and I am astounded that you ever managed to let me do so.”

  “As am I, Seb.” He could feel her smile against his chest, even if her words were weary. “But you and fate had something very different in mind, and I was no match.”

  { Chapter 16 }

  Watching the early morning rays through the open window in Sebastian’s bedroom, Brianna loosened the laces of her left riding boot wide. Bending, she gingerly pulled the boot up over her left calf. It was wrapped from ankle to knee, a constant pain that nagged at her, but she could feel the scabs healing well.

  Once they had arrived back at Notlund in the darkness, Sebastian had gently wrapped her bloody leg in linen without a word, and after, had not mentioned what she had done to herself, other than to ask her how her leg was faring.

  For that, she was grateful.

  In the moment by the stream, she had been so desperate, so despondent, that she did not know what she was doing. But now she was mortified at her lack of control—what she had done to herself.

  “I can see you cringing.” Sebastian’s hands clasped onto her shoulders from behind. “Are you sure you can ride with your leg as it is? It has only had one day to heal, and Plarington is a distance. The ride will be long.”

  Brianna looked up over shoulder at him, her fingers still clutching the laces. “I will suffer it. I need to move them as soon as possible.”

  “I can go by myself and find a suitable home to rent, Bree. You do not need to come.”

  “I do. For my own assurances. It is not that I do not trust you…”

  “But you do not trust me?”

  “I am trying, Seb. I truly am. And I do trust you. But it is not a card I can so easily flip over in my mind—the control. After everything that has happened, what I have done to keep Harry safe, I cannot just absolve myself from the responsibility.”

  “Responsibility that never should have been yours.”

  “Responsibility that I chose to take on.” She gently tightened the laces on her boot, tying them. “I could not just walk away from an innocent child I love, Seb. I know it riles you that I am in this mess, but there was no other choice I could make. No one else to trust.”

  “But you have me now.”

  “I do.” She looked up at him. “And I cannot tell you how much of a relief it is to not have to bear this secret alone. Just know that the control I cannot let go of is a reflection upon a flaw in my nature, not yours, Seb.”

  “You, my wife, are not flawed.”

  She scoffed, rolling her eyes at him. “Do not try to charm me into staying here, as we both know that statement is wildly untrue.”

  He gave her his devil smirk. “I know no such thing.”

  She sighed, a smile playing on her lips as she stood from the leather chair, slipping her arms around his waist and looking up at him. “As long as I can make it to Plarington with bearable pain, I would like to do so. Besides, I did ask you for advice on the town and location, did I not?”

  “Yes, but only after a lengthy argument—I still think Harry will be safe here at Notlund.”

  “There are too many servants, too many visitors coming through, Seb, and you know I refuse to put danger anywhere near Lily. The most inconspicuous life is the easiest to hide. And you yourself said Plarington would be the perfect place for them, an
d from what you told me of it, I agree. That must show some sign of my surrender.”

  “Surrender?” He wrapped his arms around her. “Now that, I like the sound of from your lips. It is a shame you are fully dressed.”

  Her eyebrows cocked, her own devil smirk appearing. “My skirts do lift, my husband.”

  Twelve hours later, Brianna was damning her own insistence on accompanying Sebastian to Plarington.

  It had been a long ride, and they had had to visit five cottages in Plarington to find a suitable one to rent for Harry and Frannie. The whole of it had taken much longer than Brianna had anticipated.

  She adjusted her left leg on the leather of the sidesaddle once more, trying to push the waves of pain from her mind. Looking about, she tried to concentrate on something—anything else. Anything that didn’t include the overwhelming thoughts of Harry, or Lily, or Sebastian—as each one of those thoughts only meandered back to the pain in her leg.

  Anything else. Trees. A squirrel teetering on a branch above. The drips of rain falling from the front of her hood. The long black tail of Sebastian’s horse swooshing in front of her.

  The rain had begun midday and slowed them on their return, the trails turning mucky. But now they were within an hour of Notlund, and Brianna couldn’t get there fast enough. Food. A warm fire. Her leg stretched out free, unbound on the bed.

  The pain. She was back to the pain.

  “Hold here.” Sebastian pulled up on his horse in front of her.

  Brianna looked around. Grey sky above them, they were to the area of the trail that ran between the stream and the forest. An enormous willow to their left, Brianna set back her hood to find that the rain had eased into a drizzle.

  “What is it?” Brianna asked as Sebastian jumped off his horse, coming back to her.

  His hands came up, gripping her about the waist. “You are exhausted.” He lifted her down from the saddle, not giving her a chance to argue. “And you are in pain. My stomach rolls every time I look back and see the grit in your teeth.”

 

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