Light to Valhalla

by Melissa Lynne Blue

  Alex turned a roiling gaze to his cousin, suppressing the urge to throttle him. “You’re not helping matters.”

  “Tell them or I will,” Sidney pressed.

  “Tell us what?” Charley backed away from Alex, crossing her arms over her chest, and shooting daggers through him as only she could. “Who is Witherspoon? The general?”

  From there any semblance of civil conversation dissolved into a shouting match, everyone bellowing their recollection of events and conjectures at once. Even the damn wolfhounds howled incessantly. Alex closed his eyes and beat back the urge to hurl the incredibly expensive vase sitting on the end table into the side of Sidney’s head. His cousin was intentionally pitting him against Charlotte and the Trent’s. Alex hadn’t planned to divulge his suspicions about Witherspoon until he had concrete information to go on.

  “All right, all right!” He strode to the center of the room. “Everyone quiet down and allow me to explain.”

  The roar continued. George slipped into the room with a silver coffee service and took in the scene with mild amusement reflected in his wise old eyes. The reed thin butler settled the tray on a table, put two fingers in his mouth and let fly a shrill whistle.

  “Augh!” Groans rolled in unison through the room as everyone clamped hands to their ears. Even the dogs rolled onto their backs, whining.

  George glanced about the now silent room before bowing to Alex. “The floor is yours, my lord.” Without another word or sound the lanky figure stole from the room.

  Thomas stuck a finger in his ear as though to clear it. “Forgot he whistled like that.”

  “Well, Alex?” Charley quirked a demanding brow. “What is going on?”

  Alex sighed, willing the ringing in his ears to subside. “The facts as I know and understand are this. Last night Charlotte was on her way to a dinner party in London with Lady Carmichael, her coach was intercepted by two miserable idiots, one of whom I have the misfortune of being acquainted with, and the driver was killed while she was abducted.” He paused allowing that information time to settle.

  “Lord in heaven.” Evelyn clasped a trembling hand to her mouth, and crossed the room to embrace her daughter.

  “Really, Mama, I’m fine.” Charley offered her mother a tremulous smile.

  “Go on.” Thomas pegged Alex with an accusatory glare.

  Alex ground his teeth. As expected he was relegated to role of villain. “Around Midnight,” he continued determinably, “I received a ransom note demanding 5000 pounds for her safe return. Sidney and I rode out immediately and recovered her completely unharmed. Charley requested we come here rather than return to London, and knowing my mother I can’t say as I blame her.” Alex adopted his most formal tone. “Lady Grayson, I cannot apologize enough for the inconvenience, but the circumstances were unavoidable.”

  Evelyn’s face softened.

  “What about General Witherspoon?” Thomas pressed.

  Alex shook his head. “That I can’t tell you. I’ll not slander the name of a good man without concrete evidence.”

  Thomas’s brow furrowed as he considered the answer, finally the younger man gave a curt nod, and crossed the room to embrace his mother and sister.

  “What about the men who took Charley?” Evelyn asked, breaking away from the family hug.

  “They escaped, but at first light I’ll ride into town to speak with the local magistrate. One of them is wounded and I’m confident we’ll discover whoever hired them.” Alex quickly relayed what Charley overheard of the brigands’ altered plans. “Justice will be served, you have my word,” as he said the last his eyes locked with Sidney’s. Emotions very much akin to malice lurked in the other man’s eyes. Unease settled deep in Alex’s gut. What had happened between he, and his lifelong friend?

  * * *

  Alone in the shadowed corner, Sidney cast a brooding gaze the length of Charley’s disheveled form. Perched on a plush chair, a cup of steaming liquid wrapped in both palms she looked entirely too delectable. At least she would look delectable if she wasn’t drowning in Alex’s uniform jacket. Sidney knew the strongest impulse to strip the garment from her shoulders and hurl the cursed thing into the fire.

  Unrest boiled in his blood.

  What a stroke of bad luck for Alex to have arrived home yesterday. After two years of quiet seduction Charley had been coming along very nicely, softening to his advances, and for once… just once… he would have had the supreme satisfaction of trumping Alex. Now it seemed all Sidney’s hard work would prove for naught. From the moment Alex rushed into those woods, he’d scarcely left her side. His intent to stake claim on his marchioness was clear. The son of a bitch had even kissed her in the woods.

  For years Sidney had lived in Alex’s shadow, second best—or just plain second—at everything. No more. When it came to Charley Sid would win. She’d be a sweet little thing in bed, of that he was certain, and when she succumbed to his charms… he’d make certain Alex was embarrassed before the entire ton.

  Sidney pushed off from the wall, ambling leisurely toward the object of his desires. “Charley, do you have a moment?”

  She turned her attention from the blissful cup of coffee cradled in her palms and smiled. “Certainly, Sidney.”

  He glanced cagily about the room, his gaze resting on Alex and Thomas murmuring quietly beside the hearth. “In private,” he whispered to prevent the others from hearing.

  Those glittering green eyes widened curiously. “I suppose.” Charley settled her cup on the tabletop and took his proffered hand, allowing Sidney to lead her from the room. “What is this about, Sidney?”

  He pulled her down the hall and around another corner, flattening her urgently against the wall. Eyes wide with alarm she fought his hold, but he held firm. “Look, Charles,” he adopted his most caring tone, “after the stable hands and I ride out this morning to take care of Saunders I won’t be coming back here.”

  She stopped fighting, eyes wide with disappointment and discontent. “What? Why? I don’t understand.”

  Tenderly he reached out to tug a silken stray curl, hanging over her shoulder. Instantly she shifted back. No doubt thinking of Alex. Well, Sidney would put an end to that.

  “Alex prefers I return to London,” he murmured, tracing the delicate line of her jaw with his forefinger. “Actually he demanded it. Charley, promise me you’ll be careful,” he continued urgently. “I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

  The plump curve of her heart shaped lips bowed in a small, reassuring smile. “Not to worry, Sidney. Alex and Thomas are perfectly able to keep me safe from whoever hired those men to kidnap me.”

  Her eyes positively glowed with the mention of Alex… How irksome.

  “It’s not those brigands I’m worried about.” Sidney stepped closer, trapping her between his body and the wall. Every soft curve of her luscious body pressed provocatively against him, he leaned close, brushing his mouth past her ear. Charley gasped, panic in her eyes, and restraining hands pressed against his chest, preventing him from trying anything bolder. Anger flared. Patience. With practiced effort he schooled his emotions, taking the fury firmly in hand. He must bide his time and win her right from beneath his cousin’s nose. “It’s Alex, Charley. Beware of Alex. Last night he confided in me that if he doesn’t produce an heir Regina’s petition to have him discharged will be granted. Alex will do anything to get you with child so he can return to duty. Anything.”

  Five

  Bile seared Charley’s throat. “No,” she gasped, searching Sidney’s face, desperate to deny his words. “Let me go. That isn’t true. I-I heard you talking by the stairs and—” Alex had sounded downright jealous by the prospect of Charley and Sid together. True hope had blossomed within her, bringing back the love and adoration she’d locked away, denied, for so many years. After all that had happened in the last hours she needed for her knight in shining armor to be just that… a real hero. Memories of Alex’s tender touch in the woods twined with his cruel word
s from the past and carved a vicious path through her soul. “I said let go!” She struggled against Sidney’s strangely possessive grasp.

  He shook his head. “You know Alex as well as me. He’s out for himself and his career above all else.”

  She didn’t respond, only blinked back tears.

  “There’s more, Charles, much more.” Sinister warning darkened his eyes. She stilled, more than a little frightened. “General Wither—”

  “What’s all this about?” Alex’s deep tenor boomed through the hall.

  Without missing a beat Sidney slid casually back, releasing Charley, and affording her a full view of her husband’s hulking form. Charley’s throat ran dry. Alex stood in the hall with all the menace of an avenging angel. Dark wavy locks tumbled over his forehead in glorious disarray, framing the intense blue of his hooded gaze. The strong line of his jaw clenched, and the grim set of his mouth spoke of his displeasure. The simple white shirt draped over his tapered form, accentuating the honed muscles of his broad shoulders and chest. Raw sinew shifted and leapt with even the minutest movements, and a distinct aura of danger exuded from his frame.

  “Oh, just making sure Charley is faring well enough after her ordeal,” Sidney replied breezily.

  Alex quirked a skeptical brow. “I see.” He crossed powerful arms, and the muscles of his forearms rippled in silent warning. “How is she?”

  “Fine.” Charley snatched away from the wall unsure whether to run to or from her husband. Had he overheard Sidney’s accusation? Would Alex deny the allegation if confronted?

  “Well, I’m off.” Sid sidled nonchalantly past Alex. “Charley, wash this entire debacle from your mind. When we meet again may it be on happier terms. Alex, good luck with the magistrate, and I’ll keep you well apprised of the situation in London.” He winked as though nothing untoward had transpired and disappeared down the hall, whistling.

  “What situation in London?” Charley asked, hurt and taking the offensive.

  Wordlessly Alex glared after Sidney before turning a murderous gaze onto her.

  Any rational thoughts of anger, hurt, or denial scattered on breeze. Oh, dear Lord, he’s furious. Charley swallowed the butterflies battling up her windpipe. Not that she could blame him. What had possessed Sidney to put her in such a compromising position? Heart hammering an erratic cadence, Charley fidgeted from foot to foot, waiting for Alex to speak, answer her question, or even ask after her bizarre interlude with his cousin; but instead he remained absolutely silent; staring at her with a cold unwavering gaze.

  Finally, at a total loss for words or action, Charley tore her gaze from Alex’s hard face, and made a beeline for the hall Sidney had just ambled down.

  “Just where are you going?” Alex slung a brawny arm about her waist, spinning her into the rock hard flat of his chest.

  Charley’s breath hiccupped in her throat and her knees quite literally turned to mush. Her husband’s smoldering gaze roamed over her in a slow, physical caress of the eyes. Sparks and prickles danced over her skin wherever his eyes touched and despite the thick layers covering her figure she may well have been naked. The thought flooded her senses with a mix of sensual delight and embarrassment.

  “B-back to the parlor.”

  Without a word Alex shifted, securing an arm around the small of her back, binding her to him. The muscles in his chest leapt beneath her palms, and for the life of her Charley could not tear her gaze from the opening of his shirt, where the top two buttons lay undone. The swarthy bronze of his skin notably rippled with even the minutest movement and her fingers itched to trace the heated flesh. What was stopping her? He was her husband after all…

  Strong palms trailed up her arms, and along her shoulder, leaving a trail of tingles in their wake. The calloused pads of his fingers graced her throat and tipped her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze.

  Apprehensions ceased the moment she looked into his eyes. Beautiful eyes… eyes that lay at total odds with the masculine features of his face. A wealth of flickering emotion burned in those midnight spheres, filling the air between them with something she could not quite describe, but it was dangerous… exhilarating.

  Alex leaned just a bit closer, dragging a roughened thumb along her bottom lip. With the barest touch he held the power to erase all bitter memories. Why was I so frightened of his return? she wondered, lost in a dreamy haze. This is Alex. Alex. “Alex,” she whispered.

  Beware of Alex, rumbled through her mind, reminding her to take caution, but… Searching the eyes of the very man she’d held so dear she sensed an acute change in him. Something she could not quite put her finger on, but it was humble and mayhap just a bit broken.

  Silence stretched on, surrounding them. Alex’s gaze roved over her face. Curious. Searching. Perhaps judging?

  “Alex,” she repeated. “Say something, please?”

  His attention fell to her mouth. “I need my jacket back.” The deep rumble of his voice sent shockwaves through her. She could actually feel him in all the forbidden crevices of her soul.

  “Y-you’ll have to let me go first.”

  A rare smile rolled across his lips. “I suppose you’re right,” he replied without releasing her. If anything he pulled her closer. “But… suppose I don’t want to let you go.”

  Charley’s heart skipped a beat. Oh, but why did he have to look at her that way? Head bent and cocked to the side, lips so close she could lean in and kiss him herself if she wanted to.

  “Look, Charley, I realize we haven’t had a moment’s peace since I arrived home, and this probably isn’t the best time to broach the subject, but,” he hesitated, arms linking naturally around her. “I want to make a go of us. Give you and me, this marriage, a real chance.”

  A thrill of excitement shot through her. She’d wasted countless hours envisioning just such a scene as this. Perhaps he really was jealous. The thought buffered the plaguing doubts forever in her mind and the fresh convictions Sidney had seeded. She wanted—needed—for Alex to be jealous instead of calculating. Jealousy proved he cared for her and caring was further proof of a fundamental change within Alex… or was it?

  “No need to say anything now,” he said softly, giving her an affectionate squeeze as he leaned in to drop a tender kiss on her forehead. “Get some sleep, think about what I’ve said, and we’ll talk more about this later.”

  Absently she nodded. Alex stepped behind her and stripped the uniform jacket from her shoulders before continuing on down the hall.

  Charley shivered, and rubbed her palms over her arms to erase the chill. “Alex?”

  “Yes?” He stopped and turned back to her.

  “Aren’t you going to ask why I was here with Sidney?”

  A flint mask flipped over his eyes. “There is no need.” He performed a crisp about face and marched down the hall.

  Charley collapsed against the wall. “I’m such a fool,” she muttered. All the man need do is look at her and she was putty in his hands, but dare she trust him? Dare she put her life in his hands? Better than even odds predicted she would find herself pregnant, alone, and second to the army yet again if she did.

  * * *

  The bay gelding swept down the snow covered road with ground eating strides. Alex hunched over the animals shoulders, urging him faster. The horse stretched out, finding another burst of energy and increased the pace yet again. Alex reveled in the speed, relishing the brown blur of the trees lining the road and the cool sting of the wind in his face, but no matter how the animal flew over the earth the sight of Charley pinned provocatively against the wall beneath Sid refused to fall behind.

  He careened around a bend in the road.

  Over and again he told himself it didn’t matter. He’d been gone for three years, and anything that may or may not have happened between Sidney and his wife lay in the past. His marriage started now. Conquering Charley started now. But doubts plagued his mind. Doubts and miserable jealousy. He ground his teeth.

  Jealous?<
br />
  Like hell. He’d be damned before admitting the fact. Jealous men turned to fools, and he’d not be made a fool by a woman. Not like his father who’d been made a fool by any pretty face passing by. Alex refused to be compared to or resemble that bastard in any measure. He’d spent his entire life proving he was better than all of them—his parents, his brothers.

  A battered wagon rattled down the road just ahead, Alex jogged to the side, tightly rounding the conveyance. The nag pulling the vehicle startled and half reared. Alex peered under his arm. The driver shook an angry fist at Alex and his rapidly departing mount.

  Reluctantly Alex reigned in. His display of recklessness was hardly becoming of an officer in the king’s army.

  He finally stopped warring the perpetual circle of his mind back to Charlotte and allowed his mind to dwell on the situation at hand. If his wife could in fact be considered a situation. The word hardly seemed appropriate. Charley was an entity. Vivid, brilliant and consuming his world. Christ, help him.

  When had the concept of jealousy and Charley Trent become synonymous? He’d wanted her for some time now, years, in fact, but the emotions had taken on a life of their own after his dream on the battlefield, and the memory of the haunting apparition of his wife was dragging his entire existence out of control. Now he could not banish the weight of her in his arms, or the cinnamon scent wafting around her strawberry hair. By the devil she reminded him of strawberries dipped in whipped cream, and in a word—if a single word could truly sum up the crazed desire he felt for her—she possessed him. Here he was lusting after his own wife—his wife—and at total odds as to what to do about it.

  Did she love him?

  At one time he’d believed so. Known the fact to be true in the purest sort of certainty, but now…

  Did she love Sidney? Acrid bile rose in his throat at the possibility. He clinched the reins until his knuckles turned white.

  Once he waded through all the reasons—mostly selfish—that he needed Charley at his side, the simple truth of the matter was that he was ready to be married, have a family, children. The army humbled him. Nay, that was a falsehood. The army disciplined him. Battle humbled him. The sight of death and suffering… the bloated bodies of the comrades he’d played cards or shared drinks with the night before. He’d more than seen death and suffering, he knew what it was, had smelled it, breathed it, and no longer had the immortal mentality of most twenty-six year old men. In short he’d lost the drive to take risks and claw his way to the top. Death did not frighten him, but the prospect of dying with no one to grieve or care scared the living hell out of him.