A shot cracked through the night, and Wynbrook dove into her, pushing her down, covering her with his own body.
Silas dropped to the ground as well, shouting in pain. Sir Antony and Lady Roberts stepped out of the shadows, into the moonlight. John dashed forward, grabbing Silas’s pistol, Kate’s dagger, and another blade from Silas’s boot before returning to Kate’s side.
“Are you hurt?” asked John, checking her over.
“I shall survive,” said Kate. “Though if you could cut these bonds…”
“Yes, dear!” John was quick to comply with her request. “I thought I was going to expire, seeing you with a gun to your head. Really, my dear, you must be more considerate to your husband. Such excitement cannot be good for the heart.” He cut through the ropes and helped her to stand.
“You were wonderful.” Kate leaned her head on his shoulder. “Simply amazing. You disarmed him with nothing but your wit!”
“I believe Sir Antony has helped us considerably,” said Wynbrook, towering over the defeated Silas Harcourt, who, though alive, remained on the ground.
“Thank you, Sir Antony. That was an excellent shot,” said Kate as he and his wife drew near.
“I know a crack shot when I see one,” said Sir Antony, smiling at his wife. She smiled in return and shouldered the rifle.
“You mean…Lady Roberts fired the shot?” Kate stared at Lady Roberts, who gave her a serene smile.
“I confess I’m but a Highland lass at heart. Hunting is a wee bit of a passion.”
“My lady is a true lady, but she is as fierce as any Highlander.” Sir Antony gazed at his wife with obvious admiration.
Attention now turned to Silas, sitting on the ground, clutching his bloodied shoulder.
“What are we going to do with him?” asked Kate.
Sir Antony sighed. “Let’s get him to the house.”
Wynbrook and a burly groom helped to “escort” Silas Bones to the house. His face was pale with pain and the fight seemed to have left him. After a short debate, they took him to a small guest bedroom. With a groom and footman standing by as guards over the prisoner, Wynbrook helped Silas remove his coat, revealing a large, red stain on his white shirt. His cravat, collar, and waistcoat were soon removed, and finally, the shirt.
Blood ran from both the entrance and exit wounds, and the company was immediately consumed with stanching the flow. His back was covered in long scars with puckered, distorted flesh. It was difficult to view without wishing to turn away.
“What did your father do to you?” asked Kate, holding what used to be his cravat to his back to stop the flow of blood.
“Lashed me to the mast and whipped me,” replied Silas through gritted teeth. To Wynbrook, he said, “I stayed at Eton over holidays not because I had to but because I wanted to.”
“No child should be tortured in this manner,” said Wynbrook.
“We have both been hurt by your father,” Kate said quietly.
“When my father discovers I failed…” muttered Silas.
“Darington has gone after Harcourt,” said Wynbrook.
“Hope he kills him,” said Silas. “I know he’s my father, but I cannot help but wish to be free of him. I am sorry for causing you pain.”
Not long ago, she had wished him dead; now she just felt sorry for him. She was not much practiced in giving mercy—not for herself or anyone else—but maybe if she could find grace, so could the miserable man before her. Starting her marriage holding on to a grudge did not seem like a good beginning.
Kate nodded, accepting his apology. She breathed deep, experiencing a strange sense of relief that flooded through her. This man no longer had any power over her.
Lady Roberts compassionately poured Silas a dose of laudanum, which he took with a grimace. “I’ve called the surgeon,” she added.
“Thanks for not killing me, I suppose,” said Silas.
“If ye had no’ dropped the pistol, I would have shot ye between the eyes. Feel better, dearie.” She patted his hand.
They stepped out of the room to discuss whether a magistrate should be notified. There was agreement that Silas Harcourt had done some horrid things, but also that he’d felt he had little choice. The angry scars on his back were a testament to that.
“I do want to show some compassion for him,” said Kate. “But I do not wish him to be at large in society.”
“What about the military?” asked Sir Antony.
In the end, it was decided if he lived to give him a choice between jail and the Royal Navy. The surgeon arrived and Kate and Wynbrook retired to their guest room.
“I’ve had a hot bath drawn for you, dear,” said Lady Roberts, her correct English diction restored. “I know I am not your godmother, but I am going to pretend to be.”
“I would like that,” said Kate honestly.
Ten minutes later, Kate sank into the hot water with a low groan. She began to rub lavender soap up and down her arms, washing off the dirt and mud from being knocked to the ground multiple times.
John poked his head into the room. “Can I be of service?”
“You can help wash the dirt out of my hair.” He could help her do a few other things as well.
He entered wearing nothing but a dressing gown and a smile, locking the door behind him. “I was not sure now that we are married if I was to be barred from your bed and…well, bath.”
“I do not recall ever mentioning I would ban you from the bath,” said Kate with a slow smile.
“Ah, then I am on friendly ground. May I be permitted to join you?”
“By all means.”
John joined her in the large tub, water sloshing over the sides. He settled in behind her and wrapped his arms around her. It was delicious.
“Remember when I said I did not think I could be intimate when married?” asked Kate, closing her eyes and leaning back against her husband’s wonderfully muscular chest.
“Yes, I seem to recall something of that sort.”
“Forget it. I was wrong. Bloomin’ idiot.”
He laughed, and she could feel it through her skin. He began washing her hair, slowly massaging her scalp. He then worked his way down, soothing and massaging everything along the way until she was desperate for him. She spun around and had her way with him, feeling more powerful, loved, protected, and alive than ever before.
By the time they climbed out of the tub, there was more water on the floor than in the bath.
“Lady Roberts will wonder what has happened here,” said Kate, drying herself off.
“I think she might have a fair idea of what went on.” John grinned at her. “We are newlyweds, after all.”
“I am very glad I married you,” said Kate. “I fear I have fallen quite in love with you.”
His green eyes sparkled at her. “My heart beats for you alone. Though it has gotten a bit more use than usual and would like to request calm days ahead.”
“But I thought you liked those exciting novels,” said Kate with a laugh.
“To read, not to live,” clarified John.
“My mistake,” said Kate with a smile. “I shall become meek and mild-mannered. A perfect countess.”
“Ha!” cried Wynbrook. “You’ll do nothing of the sort or I’ll be bored to distraction. I married you just as you are!”
Kate wrapped her arms around her husband again and sighed in contentment. He accepted her for who she was. And somehow, maybe, she did too.
Epilogue
Kate and Wynbrook returned to Arlington Hall after a monthlong honeymoon of visiting many notable places, which she could not readily recall. What she did remember was seeing her new husband. A lot of him. Again. And again.
They returned amidst a general bustle of the staff welcoming home the master. Kate knew she would have the business of running the househol
d and could not wait to begin the record keeping. Oh, and all the beautiful lists she could create. The sound of music and laughter greeted them as they walked toward the drawing room.
“Lady Jane is visiting Lady Ellen,” explained the housekeeper. “And the new rector is making another visit. He has been quite attentive to Lady Ellen.”
“Has he?” commented Wynbrook. “I’m glad Ellen has not been left all alone. Nice of him to show some compassion for a visit.”
They entered the room and stopped short. Jane was at the pianoforte and Ellen was standing up in the arms of the rector. Kate blinked hard and looked again. Lady Ellen was on her feet! But how was that possible?
“What in the blue blazes is going on?” demanded Wynbrook.
“Why, Ellen, how are you standing up?” cried Kate.
“Tim—that is, Reverend Dawkins—made me new legs!” Ellen lifted her skirts a bit to reveal the wood and metal contraptions strapped to the stumps of her legs. “I am working on my balance. Is it not wonderful?”
“But…but…he has his arms around you!” stammered Wynbrook.
“It is the waltz. A common dance in Germany and France,” Kate assured him.
“Reverend Dawkins says this is the best dance to start with because he can help keep my balance should I falter. Are you not pleased?” The excitement in Ellen’s eyes waned.
“Of course we are pleased!” cried Kate. “Are we not, dear?” She gave her husband a quick nudge.
“Oh, yes, quite astounded. I never thought I’d see you dance.”
“Nor I! I think, with more practice, I may be able to walk with a cane.” Ellen beamed at them with bright, blue eyes.
Wynbrook gave her a warm but careful embrace for one on new legs. “I am so proud of you. It is truly a miracle.”
“Thank you, Reverend Dawkins. We are deeply indebted,” said Kate.
“Think nothing of it. Happy to help. I had to figure out how to be able to walk again after my accident, and I thought what I had constructed could help Lady Ellen too. I was not sure she could do it, but she is an admirable lady.” His eyes turned to the pleasing form of Lady Ellen.
“I would never wish harm on anyone,” said Ellen most truthfully, “but I am very grateful Reverend Dawkins had the experience to be able to fashion legs for me!”
“And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose. Romans 8:28,” quoted Reverend Dawkins. “I never before knew it to be more true.”
“Yes, indeed.” Ellen held on to him for support and looked up at him in frank admiration.
Kate and Wynbrook exchanged glances.
“Maybe at some point, Reverend Dawkins, we can have a talk,” said Wynbrook.
“Yes, I would like that, for there is something I must ask you.”
Ellen and Jane exchanged significant looks and giggles.
“I think you may soon marry off yet another sister,” Kate whispered to John.
“Inconceivable,” he murmured, but the smile had returned to his face. “Shall we dance?”
“I do not dance,” said Kate automatically.
“I said I would get you to dance someday. Besides, you have found you enjoy many things you once thought you would not,” John whispered suggestively.
Kate couldn’t squelch the smile.
“Strike up that waltz, Jane,” said John. “Can’t have Ellen beat me to the dance floor.”
Jane struck up her tune, John put his arms around Kate, and they began to dance. They spun around the room, most likely making a horrible muddle of the waltz, but Kate felt alive and free and oh so happy.
The butler interrupted their revelry to announce a visitor. “Lord and Lady Darington,” he intoned.
“My brother has returned!” Kate exclaimed. She ran toward the doorway, pulling John along with her. She got halfway across the room before she stopped short. “Wait, Lady Darington? Either my mother has risen from the dead or my brother has gotten married!”
Like Sally McKenzie and Stephanie Laurens?
Then you’ll love A Wedding in Springtime by Amanda Forester!
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Acknowledgments
No book is written without considerable help and support, and this one in particular needed encouragement throughout. Thank you to my agent, Barbara Poelle, and my editor, Deb Werksman, who are always there to make me shine. I greatly appreciate my beta reader, Laurie Maus, who didn’t think I was crazy when I had to change my ending to the book because the villain wouldn’t let me kill him. Special thanks to my husband, who helps and encourages me in so many ways. Everything I know about a true hero, I learned from him.
About the Author
Amanda Forester holds a PhD in psychology and worked many years in academia before discovering that writing historical romance was way more fun. Whether in the rugged Highlands of medieval Scotland or the decadent ballrooms of Regency England, her novels offer fast-paced adventures filled with wit, intrigue, and romance. You can visit her at www.amandaforester.com.
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If the Earl Only Knew (The Daring Marriages) Page 32