Even now she shivered from those remembered words. So, she’d agreed to the engagement even though every fiber of her being protested. I had to let you go, Rafe. Forever, and now her life was falling apart at the same time that she was falling in love with him.
She shoved those thoughts away, for what good would thinking them do? He was lost to her. Focusing on the earl, she frowned. He was here and with her, but for how long? No doubt Oliver had her house watched. Her skin crawled with the overt possessiveness. He would know if Rafe had come… and the consequences would prove deadly. I cannot bear that. At least if she sent him away, he would live and perhaps would find happiness. “What can I do?”
Fear shadowed his eyes and made them more green than hazel. “Save me.”
I already have. Her heart broke into a million pieces and she cupped his cheek. The rasp of stubble against her palm sent awareness sailing through her. She ignored that too. “I’m so sorry.” She’d failed him miserably, and now he was cursed for another five years. Even if he managed to unravel the knot of trouble he was in, his life still wouldn’t be whole.
And I will fail him again now.
It had to remain this way so he might continue living—free and happy—while she… She glanced at the hated ring currently residing on the fourth finger of her left hand and she stifled a sob. I sacrificed myself for you.
Despite her wish to keep them at bay, tears filled her eyes again. A couple of drops landed on his upturned face. He brushed them away. “I can only help you by sending you to your club. You’ll be safe there.”
He latched onto her hand and held it. His trembles transferred to her. “Come with me.” Emotion graveled his voice. She couldn’t begin to understand how he felt or to know how awkward this must be for him. “We will ride for Gretna Green, marry, live a life removed from England and away from all the rumors or the prying gossips.” His words tripped over themselves in his desperation and haste. “We will find happiness together, Lizzy. I know we will.”
When she’d dreamed of hearing those words from him, it certainly wasn’t in such circumstances. The sour taste of sickness rose in the back of her throat. Quickly, she swallowed down the urge to vomit. “I am already engaged.” The ring on her finger felt as if it weighed a hundred pounds. For the rest of her life, she would remember the betrayal in Rafe’s face when she’d more or less confirmed that fact for him last night.
“You don’t love him,” he said in a quiet voice.
“No.” That was the saddest part of all.
Rafe’s eyes darkened to brown. The red ring flared. He curled his hands into fists. “Yet you don’t love me, and you refuse me the same consideration you’ve given him.”
“No!” She shook her head. How could she explain that she was doing this for him?
He cut off anything else she might say with the slash of his hand as he rose to his feet. A muscle in his jaw worked. “Did anything I’ve done make a difference to you?”
Perhaps if she lied, he would go to his club without incident. She schooled her expression into what she hoped was a blank mask even as her chin quivered and a tear slipped to her cheek. “No.” Merciful heavens, this was the hardest thing she’d ever done.
He narrowed his eyes. “You will never accept what I am.” Desolation once more crept into his tone. “I was a fool to ever believe you might change, that we might finally have a future.”
“Rafe, what we shared was… I never meant…” What was there to say? Already, she risked much. Her heart broke into a million pieces all over again at the grief in his expression. Finally, she shook her head and prayed that he would eventually forgive her.
If he ever found out.
As if something inside him snapped, his despair vanished in the face of full blown anger and rage. “Then you are no better than the paid women at the club.” His voice rose with each word. “I sought your help, your solace here, and you would betray me when I need you the most.” Hurt shimmered in his eyes, highlighted by the red ring. His fangs elongated and peeked out from beneath his lips. Claws burst from his fingernails. The red intensified until it was the only thing she saw in the depths.
And his expression changed until rage twisted it into a gruesome mask.
Elizabeth backed away. The fear careening down her spine was real, for she’d never seen him in the grips of such anger. “Stop it this instant, Rafe.” When he ignored her order and came toward her with stalking steps, panic took hold in a cold tide. “You’re merely scared. I understand that.” Seeing him under the control of the beast, it was easy to believe that he’d been behind the two attacks. Who else in London had fangs that would leave such bite marks?
“I am done with letting people in London use me and then toss me away as if I don’t matter.” He sprang at her, catching her in his arms and propelling her the rest of the way across the room. When her back slammed into the wall, the breath whooshed from her lungs. Helpless, she struggled in his hold while his claws dug into her shoulders through the elbow-length sleeves on her gown. “Perhaps I should remain the beast since that is the only thing you think I’m capable of being.”
“No.” She kept her voice at a whisper in the hopes of soothing him. Trembling, sucking in breath, Elizabeth stared into his eyes, fought against the power of his enthrallment, waded through the waves of fear breaking over her. “You are afraid and you’re hurt after everything that happened last night,” she said, willing him to calm down. “Let me go and I’ll help get you to your club. You can hide there. They will take care of you.”
“Because you cannot stand the sight of me,” he said with a snarl. A drop of saliva dripped from his left fang. He ignored her protest as he turned her head so that her neck was bared. “I need to feed anyway. It might as well be on you, since you have no use for me, think I’m too far beneath you for a future.”
She whimpered when his hot breath and his fangs glided over her neck. “You don’t have to do this.” Each time she pushed at his shoulder, he didn’t move.
He licked at the place on her neck where her pulse hammered. “Come with me. I need you for far more than this.” His words steamed her skin. “I can take you away from whatever Rockingham is holding over you.”
If only that is possible. So easily she could let herself fall under his thrall, give herself into his care and tumble headlong into bliss, but she needed to remain conscious in order to keep Rafe intact. When she shook her head, the sharp point of one of the fangs scratched her neck. She gasped. “You know I cannot.” How long would it be before Oliver came and saw the earl here? “Run, Rafe, while you still can. Please.” She implored him with her eyes. “Go, and know that I l—”
The rest of her speech was interrupted when Donovan burst into the room. He took one look at them and apparently lost his mind.
“What the devil is the meaning of this?” he bellowed as he took hold of the earl’s shoulder and wrenched the earl away from her. Elizabeth slumped against the wall. “Leave my sister alone.” Then he leveled a punch at the vampire, catching him in the jaw.
“I am beyond caring what you want from me,” Rafe responded and he launched himself at Donovan. The pair fell to the floor with a heavy thud. The sound of flesh hitting flesh rang in the room as they rolled about and grappled for supremacy. Rafe put up a valiant effort in defense and had the duke routed a few times, but then Donovan shifted into his wolf form. The fight intensified, became even more deadly when the growl of the wolf rang into the stillness of the morning. Drops of blood splattered upon the carpeting and sprayed on the gold brocade of a settee as the two tore into each other.
“Stop it!” Annoyance surged through her in a hot tide. Both of the men acted like bacon-brained idiots. How had life come to this? “You’re behaving like spoiled children.” Her words had no effect on the men. With a sound of frustration, Elizabeth marched around them. She grabbed a round pillow from the sofa and then she beat Donovan’s wolfish head with the makeshift weapon. “I mean it. Stop this fooli
shness and talk like men—like humans.” She kept on smacking him until Donovan jumped away with a whine and finally shifted back into his ducal form.
“I told you what I’d do to Rogue if I ever found him in your company,” her brother growled out from around clenched teeth, and the statement lost some of its authority since he stood naked in the parlor.
Elizabeth rolled her eyes. She quickly handed him the pillow. “For Lord’s sake, cover yourself.” Then she grabbed Rafe by the back of his shirt and hauled him to his feet. He stumbled before he managed to stay upright. She shoved him away from her, but at least his fangs and claws were receding. “Why does every man of my acquaintance consider Rafe a threat to them? It is ridiculous, and I am rapidly losing patience with the both of you.”
Donovan and Rafe looked back at her with varied expressions of irritation tinged with embarrassment. Tufts of fur littered the floor as did little strips of cloth from Rafe’s shirt.
She continued. “I’m sick to death of the two of you and your posturing. I do not belong to either of you. Do you understand?” She bounced her gaze between them. “You are my brother, Donovan, not my keeper. And you.” She gave Rafe a glare. “I am not a plaything and neither am I the nearest food source.” Then she pointed a finger at him. “And if you ever refer to me as little better than a whore again, I will ram my foot so hard into your privates you won’t be able to walk for a week.”
Rafe exchanged a speaking glance with Donovan, who shrugged. “You know how she is, so this is on you,” the duke said, and promptly looked away when she swung her regard back to him.
Elizabeth continued before her courage completely deserted her. “I don’t need protection from either of you, and right now, I cannot abide the sight of you.”
“But Elizabeth,” the duke began.
“No.” She propped her hands on her hips while ignoring the shaking that moved through her body. No doubt delayed shock. “I don’t give a bloody damn what sort of beasts the two of you are. Right now, we are in crisis and Rafe needs our assistance. Do you understand, Your Grace?” She narrowed her gaze on her brother. “You either help your best friend or you remove yourself from my sight.”
“You and I will talk later, sister dearest,” Donovan said with a half-grin. “It would seem last night held much intrigue that I am not aware of, but for the time being, I’m going to dress and will meet you as soon as Rogue is settled.”
“It’s about bloody time you pulled your head out of your arse, brother.” When Rafe staggered on his feet, blood trickling from a wound on his cheek, she sighed. She crossed to his side and slipped an arm about his waist. Now that the danger had passed and his beast no longer controlled him, she could manage the situation. “I must escort you to your club. It is still early yet. Not many people are about the streets.”
“And then what? Everything remains the same,” he said in a quiet voice devoid of all hope.
She moved him toward the parlor door. “You can talk to Lord Coventry. I’ll have Donovan send a note ‘round to his house and have him meet you there. The earl is a solicitor. He’ll know what to do or give you a defense if you need it.”
“I didn’t kill those women,” he uttered in protest.
“I know. You aren’t a murderer, but you will face a fight for your innocence.” The more she talked, the more the knot of worry between her shoulder blades tightened. “You can calm down at the club, clean up, perhaps feed. But stay there, for the Runners will go to your townhouse first once they find that body. Your elegant taste in clothing will send them your way immediately.”
Once in the entry hall, she encountered Griggs. “May I lend my assistance, my lady?”
“Yes. Find Lord Devon’s greatcoat. No doubt he left it here last night. Then order the duke’s closed carriage brought around.”
“Very well.” When he went to follow instructions, she wilted and for one tiny moment, she leaned into Rafe’s side. It was the last time she would ever touch him, hold him, revel in his strength or the scent of him. “Please take care of yourself,” she whispered as she edged toward the front door.
“Not that you care,” he muttered and dragged his feet.
“I care more than you will ever know.” Ready to burst into tears of anger and frustration, Elizabeth pressed the handle and then pulled open the oaken panel since Griggs hadn’t returned from his errands. They couldn’t wait. No sooner had she escorted Rafe onto the steps than Lord Rockingham stepped from his carriage at the curb and then came up the walkway toward them.
“Bloody hell,” Rafe whispered. One of his eyes was swelling shut from his fight with Donovan. “It seems I cannot escape this man.”
Neither can I. Elizabeth attempted to shield Rafe with her body. “Oliver. What are you doing here?” Her whole form shook with fear of what the man would do.
The marquess ignored her. He addressed Rafe. “Step away from my fiancée, Lord Devon. You have no purpose in being here any longer.”
“Stop that.” Elizabeth tried to shove past him, but he was well-muscled and didn’t budge. “Rafe is leaving. He only came by to say goodbye.”
“Looks like the duke told him off.” The corner of his mouth tipped in a frosty smile as if he agreed with the violence. “Where does he go?”
“My club,” Rafe managed to croak out before she pinched his ribcage in an effort to keep him quiet. His strength had faded after the fight. Perhaps it would take some time for it to regenerate. And he hadn’t taken nourishment. How long would he last before he either collapsed or let the beast have his head? There was so much she still didn’t know about him.
And now I never will.
Oliver nodded. “Let me take him there.”
“Why?” Elizabeth frowned. “Why would you offer?”
“For you, to make certain he will never see you again.” His eyes flashed blue fire as he rested his gaze on her. “Your promise for his life. That is what we agreed upon, remember?”
“Yes.” Tears pooled in her vision. What to do? He’d not made secret his dislike for the earl. “You swear no harm will come to him? Give me your promise now, else I’ll take him back into the house.”
He executed a half-bow from his waist. “I swear.”
How far could she trust him? But right now, there was no other choice even though her common sense screamed to wait for Donovan. Then she gave Rafe a nudge toward the marquess. “Let Oliver take you to the club. You’ll be safe there.” With a glare at her blackmailer, she said, “If you’ve lied to me, if I find out you’ve given him over to Bow Street, I will hunt you down myself.”
“I believe you, but all will be as it should.” Then the marquess’ expression softened as he wrapped a gloved hand about Rafe’s upper arm. “Spend the day with the duchess, Elizabeth. When I settle the earl, I will return and discuss options with your brother. We will form a plan at that time.”
“You would do that for Rafe?” Perhaps she’d misjudged him. If his regard for her would save the earl, then the sacrifice was worth it.
“No, I am doing this for you, for our future.” None too gently he hauled Rafe down the walkway and toward the waiting carriage. The earl’s protest went largely ignored.
Elizabeth trailed after them, her stomach in knots, the tears on her cheeks cold in the chilly winter air. When the men climbed into the carriage, Oliver leaned out the door. She gave him a smile but it was a dismal affair. “Thank you.”
He gave her a curt nod. “Everything will be fine now. You’ll see.”
“You will send word that he has been delivered safely?”
“You’ll hear about his fate soon enough.” Then he swung the door closed. Before the vehicle sprang into movement, she thought she heard the sound of flesh hitting flesh and a groan, but she couldn’t be certain. Perhaps it was a trick of the wind.
She stood at the gate for long moments until Oliver’s carriage turned out of sight.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Still heartsick and prone to weeping two
hours later, once she’d dressed, poked around at the breakfast foods on her plate, and after she had played with her kitten, she trailed through the house in search of either the duchess or her brother.
She located Donovan first, in his study, where he sat behind his massive oak desk, stacks of ledgers in front of him. “Are you too busy to talk?”
“Never for you.” He pushed aside the ledgers and clasped his hands on the desktop. “What happened to Rogue?” Though his tone was solicitous, his eyes had taken on a hard edge.
“Apparently, after the curse didn’t break last night, he ran from the gardens and took refuge at his club.” Elizabeth dropped into a leather chair that faced his desk. All she wished to do was go to the library with a book, curl into one of the comfortable chairs there before a fire, and escape from the world that had suddenly become unwelcoming.
“That I can understand.” Donovan sat back in his chair. The springs creaked at the movement. “I didn’t take my own news regarding the supposed end of the curse well.”
“Don’t remind me.” She waved a hand weakly and then let it drop back into her lap.
“What else? Your eyes are haunted, and you’ve been crying. You never let yourself go to sixes and sevens.”
“Which makes what is happening all the more compelling, I suppose.” She sniffled and dabbed at her eyes with her lace-edged handkerchief. “In any event, from what he told me, Rafe drank himself into a stupor. When he came to, he was in Hyde Park. He had been hit in the head.” Her chin quivered. When spoken aloud to another person, the evidence was quite damning, as was how much of an idiot she’d been. “There was the dead body of a woman next to him… with bite marks on her neck.”
“Damn and blast,” Donovan murmured.
Elizabeth nodded. “There was blood on his shirt and cravat as well, but he is adamant that he didn’t kill the woman, nor did he feed.” Worry sank like a rock in her stomach. “Hasn’t fed for a night or two.”
“I didn’t realize…” Her brother leaned forward in his chair with a frown. “Where is he now? Had I known how dire the situation was, he could have stayed here.”
Bitten By the Earl (Lords of the Night Book Two) Page 24