Not Always a Saint

by Mary Jo Putney

  He frowned thoughtfully. “You ask difficult questions. Yes, your appearance attracted me, but I’ve seen other beautiful women who inspired no more than detached admiration. When I saw you, I felt an intense physical reaction in every fiber of my body. If I’d spoken with you and you were a silly widgeon, my interest would have vanished. Instead, the more I saw of you, the more I came to appreciate your warmth and intelligence and character.”

  “And my problems,” she said wryly. “I’m sure you didn’t expect them as part of the package.”

  “A woman who is a blank slate isn’t very interesting.” His mouth curved up. “You have always been interesting.”

  She laughed. “You are the most tactful of men, Daniel Herbert. Let’s reverse the question. Would I have reciprocated your interest if you weren’t so very handsome?”

  “Me?” He stared at her. “The most I aspire to is ‘presentable’ and I don’t always manage that. Kirkland’s tailor helped my appearance, but I have to be reminded to dress carefully and to cut my hair. There’s nothing unusual about my appearance.”

  “No?” She stopped and swung around to face him. “How about tall?” She reached up to brush a lock of hair from his forehead.

  “Broad-shouldered.” She swept her fingers across his chest from the point of one shoulder to the point of the other. “And a wide and fine expanse it is.”

  Her fingertips sketched the lines of his face. “Fine features. Well shaped, thoughtful, serious, but with a lurking bit of humor.” She smiled mischievously. “You are altogether delicious.”

  He felt himself reddening. “You’re teasing.”

  “A little, but I’m also speaking the truth.” They’d reached the end of the beach, so she linked her arm in his and they swung around to retrace their steps. “Attraction is mysterious and not easily explained. Being attracted to a person makes us like their looks.”

  “In other words, I thought you were beautiful because I was attracted to you, not vice versa?”

  “Exactly. Though I’m considered good looking, my looks don’t transfix other men across a crowded room.”

  “If you think that, you haven’t been paying attention,” he said, amused.

  She laughed. “Trying to analyze these things is a futile exercise. Here we are, inhabiting the same marriage, so rather than analyze, we should concentrate on making it work as well as we can.”

  “Isn’t that what we’re doing? Talking, exploring each other’s minds, getting to the point where we take each other’s appearance for granted?”

  “Yes, all that plus walking on a beach. Your beach.”

  “Our beach. With ‘all my worldly goods I thee endowed, ’ ” he reminded her. The tide was going out, widening the stretch of shimmering sand. “Though it still doesn’t seem like it’s really mine. I never visited here. I don’t recall ever meeting Alistair. There is no rational reason all this should be mine.”

  “The British title and inheritance system isn’t rational, but it works,” she said pragmatically. “And you will care for this land and these people well, which means the system is still working.”

  He glanced up at the castle and thought how far he’d come since his first horrified reaction to news of his inheritance. “It works because duty is a powerful force.” And because he was learning how he could practice his medical calling while doing his duty.

  Jessie nodded. “Speaking of caring for people, the housekeeper, Mrs. Willis, said there’s a sizable vacant house in the village that might make a good cottage hospital. She was quite keen on the idea. She also said her daughter has some skill in nursing and would be interested in more training if you open a hospital here.”

  “Wonderful!” Daniel exclaimed. “We can go look at it tomorrow. Or perhaps this afternoon. It’s still early.”

  Jessie laughed and put a restraining hand on his arm. “Yes, there’s time to visit today, but for now, let’s enjoy this moment. Our first walk on the Castle Romayne beach.”

  First, and probably last for quite some time. An occasion that shouldn’t be rushed. “Thank you for reminding me to enjoy the moment.” He smiled down at her. “I do need to be reminded of such things.”

  The vast bulk of the castle loomed above as they neared the stone cliff of the headland. Toward the base of the cliff, dark openings of different sizes were visible, often with water splashing inside. “I wonder how deep those sea caves are,” Jessie said. “Do you think any of them run all the way through the headland to the other side?”

  “Probably Pendry would know. Given that the castle is directly above, it wouldn’t be surprising if some of the earlier inhabitants had decided to improve on nature. Perhaps there’s an escape tunnel running down to the sea.” Daniel squinted against the sun. “The waves have pushed rocks up around the base of the cliffs almost like a path. At low tide, it might be possible to circle around the base to whatever is on the other side.”

  “Only for someone keen on slipping, breaking bones, and drowning in this place,” Jessie said as a larger wave crashed into the rocks, throwing white plumes of water high into the air.

  “I’d be able to practice my bone-setting skills,” Daniel pointed out.

  She laughed. “I should think that setting bones for small boys who fall out of trees would be all the practice you need.”

  “Small boys are some of my best customers.” He brushed a kiss on her forehead, loving the easy bantering between them. How had he become so lucky?

  They turned away from the headland and began retracing their steps. In the distance, a graceful fishing boat sailed eastward, its white sails puffed full by the wind. A perfect moment. But such moments were fleeting by nature.

  Guessing that the restless unease creeping over him meant this moment was over, he said, “Time we were heading back. I’d like to see that possible site for a cottage hospital.”

  Before Jessie could reply, a male voice heavy with menace bellowed, “That’s her!” The dark sound echoed from the cliff walls as the man added, “Grab the woman now!”

  The instinct that had kept Daniel safe in the port-side taverns of Bristol sent ice through his veins. As he whirled around, he saw half a dozen rough, muscular men pouring from a sea cave, their expressions ferocious.

  “Jessie, run back up to the house!” Daniel barked. “Now!”

  He was between the men and Jessie, and the stairway up the cliff wasn’t far behind her. He risked a quick glance over his shoulder and saw that she was frozen in shock. “Run! Get help.”

  He doubted there were enough able-bodied men in the house to form a rescue party, and there wouldn’t be time. But with luck, Jessie might get to safety.

  “Out of the way!” roared the leader, a tall man with a dark scarf half obscuring his face. “Or we’ll bloody break you in half!”

  “If you want my wife, you’ll have to get past me!” Daniel snapped.

  At the Westerfield Academy, Hindu martial arts were a school passion first taught by the very young, half-Hindu Duke of Ashton. One exercise was for a single student to take on several adversaries at once, and Daniel had been very good at that. Fighting several men simultaneously was like a fierce kind of dancing. Daniel had learned there that an individual had advantages over a group if the assailants weren’t trained to work together.

  The rules were simple: Close fast, use their numbers against them, strike vulnerable places, and be somewhere else when they strike back. With his knowledge of anatomy, Daniel was particularly good at targeting vulnerable places like soft tissue and fragile joints.

  Swiftly he grabbed the leader by the arm and shoulder and hurled him into the man behind. Then he swung to his left and chopped another man’s throat with the side of his hand, knocking him to the sand.

  A burly fellow tried to tackle him, but Daniel spun away. Kick, punch, slide away. Thank God they weren’t armed. Their aim was kidnapping, not murder.

  Two men tackled Daniel and he went down, but rolled with it and maneuvered both of the
m into the path of another man, tripping him as well. As Daniel shoved the men off him, he saw that Jessie was racing up the steps. But the leader was pursuing her and closing fast.

  Daniel fought even harder, scrambling to his feet and driving his shoulder into one belly, then kicking another man in the knee with numbing force. But they were five to one against him. Three of the men tackled him at once from different directions.

  Daniel almost went down under the attack, but managed to keep on his feet. Swiftly he kicked one in the groin, then hurled a handful of sand into the eyes of another man. As the fellow gasped, Daniel slammed a crunching fist into his jaw.

  His opponent swore furiously. “You fight pretty damned well for a lord!” He accompanied his words with a blow to Daniel’s gut, knocking him breathless. One of the other attackers took advantage of Daniel’s weakness to knock him to the sand and pin him down. Another man piled on as Daniel fought to free himself.

  Above on the steps, the leader caught Jessie. As her bonnet came off to float down to the sand on the breeze, she screamed, “Help!” But the crash of the waves and whistle of the wind drowned out most of her cry.

  Still screaming, she went for the leader’s eyes with clawed fingers, but he grabbed her around the chest, locking her arms down while he lifted her off her feet. She struggled fiercely as he carried her down the steps to the beach. When she saw how Daniel was pinned down, she cried despairingly, “Daniel!”

  With a rush of berserker fury, he broke free and sprinted toward Jessie even though he knew any action of his was futile. As he was recaptured, the man holding Jessie, snarled, “Stop screaming, you bitch! I’ve got every damned right to carry you off!”

  Jessie managed to claw the concealing scarf off his lower face. She stopped struggling, her expression stunned. Incredulous, she gasped, “Ivo?”

  Chapter 32

  Shocked to her marrow, Jessie stared at the familiar face of the man who held her imprisoned in his arms. The height, dark hair, long nose, and bushy brows were unmistakable, though he’d broadened and looked older and harder. Well, so had she. “It can’t be you,” she said through numb lips. “You’re dead!”

  “You didn’t quite manage, little Lisbet!” he growled in a familiar voice, not loosening her hold. “You’re still quite the tasty little morsel. I’d half forgotten after all these years.” He set her feet on the ground and grabbed her backside with one hand, like a housewife checking out the ripeness of fruit. “How about a little kiss for your long-lost husband?”

  Jessie kicked him furiously, wishing her half-boots were heavier. At the same time, Daniel surged free of the men holding him. “Let her go, damn you!” he thundered in a voice that could fill a large church.

  Before he’d come two steps, one of Ivo’s men bashed him on the head with a stone picked up from the sand. Daniel crumpled to the sand.

  Jessie screamed, “Daniel!” and tried to break free of Ivo, but failed once again. “Is he the one you ran off with after cutting my throat?” Ivo asked. “Or a more recent victim of your charms?”

  She managed to free her right arm and slapped him as hard as she could. “I wish I had succeeded in killing you, you vile, bullying excuse for a gentleman!”

  “You’ve a shrewish tongue on you, Lisbet!” His cheek reddening from her blow, he tugged off his scarf and used it to gag her. His voice dropped menacingly. “I think I’ll blindfold you as well. It’s more frightening, and I want you to be terrified!”

  He was succeeding, damn him. She was terrified and not just for herself. How hard had Daniel been struck? His head had been bleeding when he went down.

  Ivo had come well prepared, and he efficiently tied her wrists behind her back. One of his men asked, “What do we do with her fancy man? Toss him in the water?”

  As Jessie froze, Ivo tied a handkerchief around her eyes, blinding her. “Bring Romayne with us,” Ivo ordered. “I don’t see why she should do all the suffering on her own.”

  “Bloody beggar is heavy!”

  “There’s five of you and one of him,” Ivo said callously. “Try not to damage him much.” He pinched Jessie’s backside again. “Come along, sweetheart. I have a score to settle with you.”

  He gripped her upper left arm with bruising force and half dragged her across the sand. She stumbled when they came to rough stone. Ivo barked, “Lou, take her other arm so she doesn’t break any bones too soon.”

  Lou took her other arm and the two men managed to keep her upright over slippery, dangerous rocks. Then constriction and dampness. They’d entered a sea cave. Ivo and his men must have come through this passage when they attacked.

  “Steps,” Ivo said brusquely. “Don’t thrash around or I’ll let you fall.”

  Lou’s hand dropped away since the stairwell was too narrow for three people to climb abreast. There was barely space for two, and she was squashed into Ivo’s side as he marched her up. The stone steps were hollowed out from use. They must be right under the old castle. How many centuries had men come and gone this way?

  The only comfort was murmured comments from Ivo’s men that suggested they were bringing Daniel along with some degree of care. She hoped that was the case. If he was conscious, he must be cursing the day he met her.

  After what seemed like an endless, painful hike, the steps leveled out and Ivo halted. A key turned in a lock; then a heavy door squealed open. Ivo’s hard hand shoved between her shoulder blades and she fell hard onto a rough stone floor, bruising her hands and knees.

  “Drop his lordship anywhere,” Ivo said brusquely. “I’ll leave ’em here to sweat.” He jerked at the ties binding Jessie’s wrists and freed her hands. “Think about what you did, Lisbet,” he said gruffly. “While I decide whether or not to leave you here to starve.”

  As Jessie tore at the gag and blindfold, the heavy door slammed shut and Ivo locked it behind him. She and Daniel had been left in a crude cell that was apparently carved out of solid rock. A couple of ragged blankets lay in a corner and a narrow, barred window showed sky outside. The sound of crashing surf sounded far below.

  Heart pounding with fear, she dropped onto her sore knees by Daniel’s crumpled figure. A streak of blood ran through his fair hair, but when she brushed his hair back to examine the injury, his eyes fluttered open.

  “A minor concussion.” He drew a ragged breath and winced as he felt around his damaged skull. “Nothing to worry about. How are you?”

  She managed a smile. “Bruised and terrified, but greatly relieved to know that you’re more or less all right. Can you sit up? Do you want to even try?”

  He replied by rolling cautiously to a sitting position, wincing again. “Where are we? I missed some of the journey here.”

  “I think we’re under Castle Romayne,” she said. “He seemed to be taking us back into the sea cave, then up some stone steps.”

  Daniel made an effort to stand, and with Jessie’s help he managed to clamber to his feet. She wanted him to wrap his arms around her so she could quietly shake for a while, but he turned and limped to the window.

  “You’re right, this view is very similar to the one from the new house, but lower and a little farther west. The castle is old enough to have dungeons underneath. Over the centuries, escape tunnels and smugglers’ hideouts could have been added.”

  She bit her lip as she watched him silhouetted against the small window. Rangy height, broad shoulders, and blood matting his blond hair. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I never imagined that my past would catch up with me in such a ghastly way.”

  Daniel turned from the window, his face unreadable with the light behind him. “Given how upset you were by that final bloody fight with Ivo, it’s not surprising that you couldn’t find his pulse. Are you sorry that you didn’t actually kill him?”

  She hesitated. “I’m glad he isn’t dead. It was horrifying to know that I’d killed a man that . . . that I’d loved. But I wish to heaven that he’d never found me and decided to take revenge!”
/>   “He’s a very angry man,” Daniel said. “Was he always like this?”

  “Usually he was talkative and charming, but today he behaved just the way he did when he was drunk,” she said. “I didn’t smell a trace of spirits on him today, though, so maybe now he’s horrible and frightening all the time.”

  “Can you guess what he intends? He could have easily killed us, but he seems to have gone to some effort to avoid that.”

  “He wants me to suffer, and you along with me.” She swallowed hard, not wanting to imagine what lay ahead. “I’m so sorry.”

  “No more apologies,” Daniel ordered. “Any fault in this situation lies with your husband.”

  For the first time, the horrifying reality that underlay the events of the day really struck home. “Dear God in heaven!” she whispered, aghast. “If he’s my husband, you aren’t.”

  “Nor was Philip,” Daniel said with cool detachment.

  Jessie’s mind moved to the next step. “So Beth is illegitimate and not heiress to Philip’s title and property.”

  “No, but she is still the beloved child of you and Philip. Plus, an heiress if not a baroness,” he pointed out. “The one good element of this is that Frederick will no longer have a reason to threaten you or Beth.”

  That was good. Very good. But she felt ill when she looked across the cell at the man who was not her husband. Daniel had given her passion and patience and safety. Only now did she recognize that she had committed herself to him totally, heart and soul. But he was not her husband, and his expression showed the detached kindness and compassion that a doctor, or a vicar, would show to a stranger.

  “This is all so wrong!” she exclaimed.

  “I agree, but the legal and emotional implications can wait for another day,” Daniel said coolly. “I’d rather try to escape now, before Ivo returns drunk and armed. Adding alcohol to his existing bad temper is an alarming prospect.”

  “Escape?” She studied the massive wooden door. It looked very solid and had a strong new lock. “Can a lock like this be picked? Is that one of your many skills?”