The Dark Duke

by Landon, Laura

  One of the giants walked off and returned with a fourth man in tow.

  “Captain Raines,” you’ll have another passenger this trip,” Fowler said. His voice sounded weaker than before. “Treat her with special care, and be sure to demand double our usual price.”

  “It will be my pleasure,” the captain answered, giving her a sardonic grin that showed a mouth full of brown and rotting teeth.

  “We are also going to have to make different arrangements for the future,” Fowler added. “It seems the details of our business venture have been discovered and it won’t be long before the authorities come seeking the lady,” he said, nodding in Amanda’s direction. “They’ll also arrive with the intention of making some arrests.”

  A worried frown creased the captain’s forehead. “Will you be leaving with us?”

  Fowler shook his head. “I have too many details to take care of here. But you need to leave as soon as possible. Hurry the men along, then pull anchor and get out of here.”

  The captain gave Fowler three sharp nods of his head, then turned to issue orders to his crew.

  “I’ll send word when I’ve found a new location…,” Fowler said as the captain walked away, “and it’s safe to return.”

  Abernathy Fowler’s words were distorted and his breathing seemed labored. Amanda watched for any sign that would afford her an opportunity to escape. If she could just break free of the two men holding her…

  “Get the bitch aboard, and get ready to set sail,” Fowler ordered the giants. “We have to move as quickly as possible.”

  “The other girls aren’t here yet,” one of the giants said. “Mrs. Broadware said she had two girls for the return trip.”

  “We’ll wait only as long as it takes for the men to unload the cargo. If they’re not here when it’s aboard the wagons, you’ll leave without them.”

  Fowler signaled to the two men holding her. “Get her aboard the ship. You need to leave the minute you can.”

  Amanda felt one stabbing of panic after another. She had to get away. Once she was aboard the Calliope Anne it would be too late.

  She looked around, searching for anything that might help her, but there wasn’t anything. The two men holding her turned toward the gangplank and Amanda took advantage of their movement to try to free herself.

  She twisted to the side, pulling her arm free from the grasp of the man on her right, then brought her hand upward and raked her nails down the cheek of the man on her left. His hand loosened from around her as he brought his hand to his cheek and yelped in pain.

  Amanda darted away from the Calliope Anne, forcing her feet to move as fast as she could.

  Please, God, please, she pleaded as she took first one step away from her captives, then another. She didn’t know where she was running, and she didn’t care. As long as her feet carried her away from Abernathy Fowler and the Calliope Anne.

  She took one more step toward freedom when an iron-like grip clamped around her arm and pulled her to a stop. She struggled to escape, even though she knew her efforts were useless. The man who’d caught her tightened his grip and spun her around.

  Before she could bring her arm up to protect herself, a big, beefy hand came forward and slapped her hard. Her vision blurred, her world turned black, and for several moments she lost her ability to function. She fell to the ground, but was jerked to her feet. She heard her gown tear, then moaned as the arm on which she landed screamed in pain.

  “Get the bitch aboard and tie her up,” Abernathy Fowler bellowed from beside her.

  Her knees buckled beneath her as the two men tried to get her to her feet. Finally they held her high enough that her feet didn’t reach the ground. Her arms ached, her shoulders burned, but there was no relief unless she could escape. And she was too weak to make much of an effort.

  Just when she thought she could endure no more, a shot exploded in the air. It was followed by the command of a loud voice. A voice that sounded a lot like Hadleigh’s.

  “Stop where you are!”

  The man on her left released her, but she wasn’t free. She’d only exchanged one captive for another. Abernathy Fowler pulled her in front of him, then grabbed her hair from the back and jerked hard. Her head snapped back and the barrel of his pistol pressed beneath her chin.

  CHAPTER 22

  Sterling focused his gaze on Amanda and a feeling of rage so intense that he could barely force his lungs to take in breath surged through him. He lunged forward, but Haywood’s fingers clamped around his arm and held him from rushing toward her.

  Abernathy Fowler had anchored her in front of him and was using her as a shield to protect him from the number of guns pointed in his direction.

  Sterling inched toward her, trying to close the distance as much as he could. He wanted to be the first to reach her should the opportunity arise. He focused on her, praying she saw the encouragement he tried to send her, but doubted she did.

  Her face was already swollen and black and blue. Her lip was cut and blood still trickled from the corner of her mouth. Her gown was torn and her one arm hung limply at her side as if it pained her too much to hold it up. She was alive, but she was badly hurt.

  A knot formed in his gut that refused to go away. This was his fault. She’d gone to the docks because she thought he no longer wanted anything to do with her. Because she thought he’d never wanted anything to do with her. That he’d associated himself with her because Cecelia had demanded he do so if he wanted to repair the damage his stupidity had caused almost a year ago.

  She’d gone to the docks alone and unprotected because she didn’t think she had anyone in her life who would take care of her. Anyone she thought she could trust. Anyone she thought cared enough about her to see that she was safe. Not her sisters. Not her brother. Not him.

  She’d been the sound he’d heard outside his study door. She’d no doubt overheard him tell Haywood that he would do anything, including spend countless hours with the one woman in the world he’d never been able to tolerate, if it provided him a way to get his sister back.

  She’d no doubt overheard him say that Cecelia had forced him to look after her. And that was true, but only in the beginning. From the moment he’d first kissed her, his feelings for her had changed. From the first moment he’d spent in her company, he understood that there was a special attraction between them. And she felt it too. He knew she did. She couldn’t have returned his kisses with such passion if she hadn’t. She couldn’t have taken him to her bed if she hadn’t.

  She loved him. Maybe she didn’t think so right now. She was too hurt to feel anything but anger. And maybe she didn’t love him as desperately as he loved her. But she loved him. And he intended to spend the rest of his life showing her how intensely he loved her. Proving to her that what they felt for each other was the most powerful emotion on earth.

  First he had to free her, though. He had to get her away from Abernathy Fowler and take her where she’d be safe. Where she could heal.

  “Let the lady go,” he ordered. “You’ve been found out, Fowler.”

  “Do you think I’m simply going to hand the lady over and give myself up? I didn’t take the risks I did for the last three years to lose everything now. No, unless you want the lady to die in front of your eyes, you’ll back off,” the small man ordered.

  “You’re a dead man, Fowler. Even if you get out of this alive, I’ll search to the end of the world to find you and make you pay for what you’ve already done.”

  “Are you referring to the lovely lady?” Fowler pressed the barrel of his pistol against the side of Amanda’s jaw to give everyone a full look at her bruised and battered her face. “The lady broke into my office, Your Grace. I was only protecting what was mine.”

  “You bastard.”

  “I’m tired of discussing this with you. Back! All of you! It’s time for me to leave. And the lady is going with me. I have a score to settle with her. As you can see, she tried to kill me.”

&nb
sp; When Fowler turned, his jacket flipped open and for the first time, Hadleigh saw the growing dark spot on his shirt. Amanda must have shot him.

  Hadleigh was overwhelmed by an intense sense of pride, as well as deeper concern for Amanda. He doubted shooting another human being had been easy for her. Even a human being as worthless as Abernathy Fowler.

  Fowler pulled Amanda with him as he took one step, then another, toward the Calliope Anne.

  “Leave her here,” Sterling demanded. “You can go, but leave her here.”

  “I’m not a fool, Your Grace. Perhaps you would allow me to walk away without the lady, but I don’t believe for a second that the authorities would. And they are positioned at every conceivable spot along the docks.”

  “Then take me. I will go in the lady’s place.”

  Fowler laughed. “You may hold a lofty title, Your Grace. But your title is worthless where I’m going. The lady’s blonde hair and delicate features are much more valuable. I already anticipate that she will bring a hefty price on the market.”

  “No!”

  “Enough! Say your good-byes, now. I’ve wasted enough time.”

  Fowler dragged Amanda with him as he took one step, then another closer to the Calliope Anne.

  Sterling kept his gaze locked with Amanda’s, praying that she knew he wouldn’t let Fowler take her with him. But when he looked into her face, he wasn’t sure she knew that. He wasn’t sure she thought that he cared enough for her to help her.

  Amanda moved then and the shift in her posture caught his attention.

  She shifted her gaze and it locked with his. He knew she was sending him a silent message, but he wasn’t sure what that message was.

  Their gazes remained locked, and a moment later he knew what she was trying to tell him. She’d made the decision to take matters into her own hands. She’d independently come to a conclusion that would alter the outcome.

  He shook his head. He couldn’t allow her to take such risks. Fowler held a gun to her head. One wrong move and he’d kill her.

  Sterling shook his head again, but her swollen mouth opened as if she was trying to tell him that she’d rather die here than let Fowler take her to some strange country where she’d be sold into slavery.

  Sterling reached for Haywood, signaling him that something was about to happen.

  Haywood lifted his pistol from his jacket pocket as did Sterling. Then they waited.

  Amanda tried to pull free from Fowler’s grasp. There was a look of surprise when he realized her attempt to escape, then he brought her sharply back up against him. Before he could secure her again in his grasp, Amanda pulled back her arm, and slammed her elbow against him, hitting the spot at his side where she’d shot him.

  Fowler cried out in pain and doubled over.

  Amanda crumpled to the ground, leaving Fowler an open target.

  Somewhere in the distance, an order was given to open fire and a barrage of bullets struck Abernathy Fowler.

  Sterling waited until the last bullet echoed in the darkness, then ran to Amanda’s side. She hadn’t moved, but remained were she’d fallen, as if she were too weak to rise, too weak to get up.

  She was curled into a fetal ball and hugged herself while the chaos unfolded around her.

  The authorities rushed up the gangplank, guns drawn, firing occasionally as they subdued the captain and crew of the Calliope Anne.

  “Amanda, sweetheart?” he whispered, as he hunkered down beside her. “You’re safe. Everything will be fine now.”

  She didn’t look up, didn’t turn into him like he prayed she would. Didn’t acknowledge his presence.

  He scooped her into his arms and held her close. “I’m taking her home, Jonah. Tell Commissioner Mayne to call on me at his leisure. I’ll answer his questions then. But I’ve got to get Amanda out of here.”

  Jonah nodded, then walked to where the commissioner was overseeing the arrest of the crew of the Calliope Anne, and confiscating the illegal cargo.

  With Amanda in his arms, Sterling almost ran to his waiting carriage. Amanda’s brother kept pace at his sister’s side. Twice Sterling tried talking to her. Twice her brother tried to get her to respond to him. But she was dead to their attempts.

  “Everything will be fine, now, Amanda,” he whispered when they were inside the Hadleigh carriage and rumbling down the cobblestone streets. “No one will hurt you ever again.”

  At first he thought she hadn’t heard him. Thought that she was so in shock that she’d blocked the past few hours from her mind. And maybe she had. But as they passed beneath the streetlamps, he noticed a glimmer of wetness on her bruised cheeks. And then he realized the wetness was a steady river of tears.

  He dabbed at her cheeks, and held her more securely. When they reached Hadleigh House, he leaped from the carriage with her still in his arms, and issued a string of orders, including sending for a doctor and rousing Nellie, as well as anyone else who needed to assist in the caring of the mistress.

  He was worried about her. Other than the tears he’d wiped from her cheeks, she hadn’t spoken, or reacted to anything since he’d picked her up.

  He carried her to her room and placed her on her bed. The second he released her, she curled her body away from him and faced the far wall.

  “The doctor will be here soon,” he assured her.

  She didn’t respond.

  “And Nellie is on her way.”

  Again, no response.

  “Can I get you anything, Amanda?”

  For a few seconds there was no response, then she whispered his name. His heart raced in hopeful anticipation.

  “Hadleigh?”

  He lowered himself to her bedside. “Yes? What can I do?”

  “Go away.”

  . . .

  Amanda lay in the bed where she’d been for the past three weeks. She was healing—at least on the outside. She should be. Everyone had taken excellent care of her, seeing to her every need, providing anything she mentioned wanting.

  But on the inside, she didn’t feel as if she were improving. She wasn’t sure her heart would ever heal again. It seemed to die a little more each day.

  Sterling hadn’t been to see her since that first day when she’d told him to go away. That isn’t to say he hadn’t been in to look in on her. He had. Often. But not during the day when she was awake. Always in the middle of the night, when he assumed she was asleep. And she’d always pretended that she was.

  Sometimes he simply walked into her room and stood by her bed. More often, though, he pulled a chair close and sat beside her, sometimes for only a few moments, other times for hours. Several times he reached for her hand and held it.

  Those nights had been the hardest. Having him hold her hand, gently squeezing her fingers, without being able to react. Without squeezing his fingers in return. Those nights had been torture of a different kind.

  A part of her had wanted to react just the slightest, to give him hope that there was a chance of reconciliation. But she couldn’t. She had to constantly remind herself of the words she’d heard come from his own mouth. The blunt answer he’d given the Earl of Haywood when he’d asked Hadleigh’s intentions.

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I don’t see where I have much choice.”

  A tear errantly slipped from her eye and ran down her cheek.

  “I don’t see where I have a choice.

  She quickly swiped it away at the knock on the door. “Yes.”

  The door opened, but it wasn’t Nellie who wanted entrance, or Harry, who’d been a frequent visitor until recently, or even Haywood, who made an appearance at least once a day. It was His Grace.

  Amanda turned her head when he entered the room, unwilling to meet his gaze.

  “How are you doing?” he asked when he reached her bedside.

  She looked at him briefly, then lowered her gaze. “Better, thank you.”

  “Well enough to perhaps sit in the garden for a short while? It’s a
beautiful day and the doctor thought the fresh air would do you good.”

  She tried not to show how excited she was to finally be able to leave her room, to finally be able to sit in the sunshine. “I would appreciate the change of scenery.”

  “I thought perhaps you might.”

  He smiled, then bent over her and scooped her up into his arms.

  “I’m sure I can walk by myself.”

  “I’m sure you can, too, but I prefer this mode of transport. If you can bring yourself to, please place your arm around my neck.”

  He waited until she wrapped her arm around his neck, then walked out the door and down the stairs with her in his arms. “Nellie, bring the mistress a wrap and a cover,” he ordered the maid when they met in the hallway. “We’ll be in the garden.”

  “Yes, Your Grace.”

  Nellie ran off to follow Hadleigh’s orders while he carried her through his study, out the open French doors, and onto the terrace. From there he carried her down the three steps, then to a small bench that overlooked a pond. He held her in his arms until Nellie came with her wrapper. When she was clad in wrapper and coverlet, he placed her on the bench.

  “May I?” he asked, pointing to a spot beside her on the bench.

  She revisited the conversation she’d overheard between Haywood and himself. A conversation she continuously repeated in an effort to remind herself not to be taken in by him again.

  “I would have done anything, including wrestle the devil himself if it provided me a way to get my sister back.”

  “Even spend countless hours with the one woman in the world you’ve never been able to tolerate?”

  “Even that.”

  “It’s not necessary for you to sit with me,” she said, refusing to look into his eyes. “In fact, I prefer the solitude.”

  “And I prefer to have a conversation with you.”

  “Even spend countless hours with the one woman in the world you’ve never been able to tolerate?”

  “Even that.”

  “It’s no longer necessary for you to attempt to deceive me, Your Grace. Or pretend that I hold a special place in your life. You have done what your sister asked of you. You have been the perfect host.”