“I’m fine.”
“Your leg…”
“Will always bother me but is much better. Thanks to Mingzhu and Chang I only limp occasionally. These four walls are driving me mad. I have to get out of here. Give me the packet and the directions. I’ll leave first thing in the morning, if it can wait that long.”
“Aye, it can. Perhaps you will want to stay on there. They are always short-handed when it comes to trainers and you have a wealth of experience to share.”
“Can you spare me here?”
“I’ve managed years without you underfoot.”
“So you have,” Liam said thoughtfully. “Thank you, Mack. I appreciate all you’ve done for me.”
“I’m just glad I could help. There’s no need to rush, take your time getting there and be careful,” Mack advised.
Liam nodded and moved past him, not truly needing his cane, but using it all the same. He was glad to leave London behind and move onto something new.
* * *
Mack entered his office and shut the door after Liam left.
“Well?” Wulfe queried from his seat.
“He’s going.”
“How did you talk him into it?”
“It didn’t take much effort. He practically came up with the idea himself. But he doesn’t know who’s at the training facility, and they don’t know that he’s on the way.”
“When is he leaving?”
“Tomorrow morning.”
“I’ll leave now. I can make it and let Southerby know. Then I’ll be on my way before Liam’s any wiser that we conspired against him.”
“We’re doing the right thing, aren’t we?” Mack asked the other man.
“He’s given up. I don’t pretend to know what he’s been through, but it must have been hell. He used to be jovial and full of life, but now he looks haunted. Yes, Mack, we are doing the right thing. He may hate us for a while, but we’re doing the right thing.”
* * *
Outside of London, the next morning
A knock sounded below. It’s early for visitors, Megan thought, as she stretched her stiff muscles after a night of tossing and turning. She dressed quickly so she could take an early morning ride. Megan crept downstairs so as not to disturb the rest of the household. She started to tiptoe out the door when she heard her brother’s raised voice coming from his office.
“What do you mean he’s still alive?”
The reply was muffled, but Megan’s curiosity was piqued. She snuck to the door, feeling like a young girl once again spying on her older brother. It was just that now she knew he had been a spy, and the purpose that his country house served, she couldn’t resist eavesdropping on occasion in hopes of hearing some nefarious plot. She pressed her ear to the oak door, hoping she would be able to hear something.
“He’s alive and on his way. He also hasn’t a clue as to who is here. Mack only told him that this is a training facility, and suggested he stay on and become a trainer.”
“Dammit, how much time do I have?”
“He was to leave London this morning.”
“What do I need to know? How am I going to break this news to my sister?”
“I truly don’t know much of what has happened to him in the time he’s been gone. I do know that he was captured and tortured for almost a year. Who knows what all he suffered at the hands of Bonaparte’s men. Liam is tough and not one to give up information easily, if at all. Then he spent some time in America. Mack said he was there until the end of that war. I can’t imagine what he saw there. I also know that he has been hiding himself in that office for the last month, blocking out the world. He hasn’t even contacted his brother, sister, or uncle.”
The rest of the words the other man spoke were lost on Megan. He said Liam. A buzzing sounded in her ears and spots flashed before her eyes. She blinked furiously to clear them, but they refused to go away. Megan pushed away from the door and slowly turned. She saw her sister-in-law coming down the stairs, saw her lips moving, but couldn’t make out what she was saying. All she could hear was that incessant buzzing. Liam was alive. She moved towards the door, towards freedom. Megan was steps short of the door when she did something she had never done in her life, not even when she had been pregnant—she fainted.
* * *
“Justin!” Clarissa cried as she raced down the stairs to her sister-in-law lying prone on the floor.
“What’s wrong?” Justin demanded as he flung open the door.
“Megan collapsed.”
“Bloody hell,” Justin said, his words echoed by the other man. He stooped down and lifted his sister in his arms.
“Bring her into the parlor,” Clarissa ordered. “I’ll get a glass of whisky.” She left the two men in the parlor alone with Megan.
“How much do you think she overheard?” Wulfe asked.
“Enough,” Justin said. “I’ve never seen my sister faint before.”
“What’s going on?” Clarissa demanded of the two men.
“We were discussing some information,” Justin said.
“Information that would cause your sister to faint? I want to know what this is about right now.”
“She’ll find out soon enough,” the other man added.
“And who are you?”
“Thorn Wulfe,” he bowed to the beautiful blonde. “It is an honor to meet you.”
“You will understand if I wait to pass judgment myself.”
“Yes, my lady.”
“Now, tell me what caused this,” Clarissa waved at her sister-in-law, who lay pale and still on the settee Justin had placed her on.
“Clare, love, Wulfe has brought word that Liam is alive and on his way here.”
“Liam?” she asked, her brow furrowed. Then it slowly cleared as she realized the impact of the name. “Megan’s Liam? Liam who everyone believed to be dead? Megan went on with her life believing him to be dead,” she emphasized, “and now he’s just going to show back up?”
“He doesn’t know what he’s walking into,” Wulfe supplied.
“And who’s brilliant idea was that?” Clarissa demanded.
“Mine and Mack’s,” Thorn answered sheepishly.
“Men,” she muttered, rolling her eyes and shaking her head. She drug a chair close to Megan and sat down after placing the glass on a table. “Megan,” Clarissa repeated, chaffing the unconscious woman’s wrists.
* * *
Megan heard her name being called from what sounded like a long, deep well. She squeezed her eyes and turned away from the sound, somehow knowing she much preferred the darkness and silence to what awaited her. What was it that awaited her? The last thing she remembered was seeing Clarissa walking down the stairs. She had been talking, but Megan had not heard anything she had said, instead she had the strangest buzzing sound in her ears. When she tried to recall anything before that, everything just seemed foggy.
“Megan, you have to face this at some point.”
“Justin, that’s enough,” Clarissa ordered.
“Perhaps I should leave,” a strange voice said.
Megan’s eyes flew open at hearing the stranger’s voice and suddenly everything came rushing back to her. All the words she had heard this man and Justin speak rolled in on her like a huge wave. She felt the blackness try to engulf her once more.
“No, you don’t,” Clarissa said. “Come on, Megan, stay with me.”
Megan felt Clarissa tap her cheek briskly enough that it stung.
“Help her sit up,” she heard her brother order. Soon she was moving and her head throbbed. “Drink this,” Justin said. She felt a glass placed in her hand, then tossed back the amber liquid, the aromatic smell of the whisky preparing her for the burn she would feel.
“Another one,” Megan ordered, holding out the glass.
“No,” Clarissa countered.
“Yes.”
“Megan, stop it. Look at me.” Megan slowly obeyed her sister-in-law. “What do you remember?”
&nb
sp; “Everything.” She leaned her head against the back of the settee, then opened her eyes and stared at the two men who looked on worriedly. “Is it true? Is Liam alive?”
“Yes,” her brother answered.
“Why now? Why so long?”
“He had to be dead for his mission, then something went wrong. He’s the only one who knows all the details, but I can tell you that he was captured and held prisoner for the better part of a year. Then he was sent to America. We truly thought he was dead, Megan. If not at first, then a few years after.”
“You lied to me,” Megan accused her brother. “Is that what it means to be an agent for the Crown? To lie to your family, to those you love?” She practically spit the last word at him.
“Things had to be done for the sake of the country, and as I said, we truly thought he had perished in Spain.”
“I need air.” Megan pushed herself up and stumbled across the room.
“Perhaps you—”
“I do hope, you aren’t going to tell me what I should or should not do,” she haughtily challenged her brother.
“Be careful,” he said, knowing nothing he did at this point would change her mind.
She turned and continued out of the room, her steps more steady. Anger fueled her. Liam was alive. Five long years and a marriage for all the wrong reasons. Megan made her way down to the stables and found Legend, munching on his breakfast.
“You’re down here early, lass,” Hamrick said, a smile in his voice that gave way to concern when he saw Megan’s face. “Lass, what be the matter?”
“Oh, Hamrick,” Megan threw herself into the old man’s arms. The tears she had been holding back now fell freely.
“Here, lass, you just tell ol’ Hammy what’s the matter,” the old horse trainer cooed as he patted her back tenderly while she cried her heart out.
“Well, if I’d known it was old men you preferred, I would have given up weeks ago.”
Megan stiffened when she heard the laconic statement. She untangled herself from Hamrick and spun around to face the man who had spoken. “I don’t recall giving you any reason to believe I was interested in you in the first place,” she said, swiping at the tears on her face.
“Oh, I have a fair understanding of how a woman’s mind works,” Williams said, leaning negligently against the frame of the stable door. “You see, they often have to be told what’s best for them, and I can tell you now, it’s not an old man like him. I could teach you things that the old man’s never even heard of.”
“Now, look here, lad,” Hamrick said, stepping in front of Megan in a protective manner.
“Old man, stay out of what doesn’t concern you.” Williams pushed Hamrick out of his way. The Irishman tripped on something on the floor and fell hitting his head.
“Hamrick!” Megan cried and tried to reach the man’s side, but was halted by the younger man.
“Leave him,” Williams ordered, clasping her wrist tightly and dragging her out of the way of the open door.
“Let me go, you ingrate!” Megan ordered as she fought the man. She kicked at him and when that didn’t slow him down, she tried to punch him.
“You bitch! I’m going to enjoy this,” he growled, slamming her against the wall.
“Help!”
He cupped his hand over her mouth. “No one’s going to help you, bitch. You’ve been begging for this ever since you arrived,” he said, working at the buttons of his fall.
Megan reached behind her, searching for anything that would give her some time, that might spare her what he had in mind. Her fingers closed around the handle of a horsewhip. She raised it and felt it ripped from her hand.
“You like to play rough, do you?” he growled. Williams bent and crushed his mouth over hers after removing his hand.
Megan tasted blood where he ground her lips against her teeth. She pounded her fists against his shoulders, back, and head, anything that she could reach.
“That’s it, fight me, bitch. I like my women feisty.” He laughed harshly.
She screamed for help once more. Megan refused to give into the tears she felt burning the backs of her eyes. She brought her knee up, but Williams easily blocked her move to unman him.
“That’ll cost you,” he said, backhanding her.
Megan saw stars flashing before her as she had right before she fainted. Her eye felt as if it might explode from its socket. She heard as well as felt the skirt on her riding habit being ripped asunder. A giant hand painfully squeezed her left breast.
“Why don’t you just admit you like it?” Williams asked, fighting her as she slapped at his hands.
She fought to keep her legs squeezed tightly together as he tried to insinuate his leg between them. Not knowing what else to do, she reached up and popped both his ears with the flat of her hands at the same time causing him to rare back and yelp. She went after him with her hands like claws and raked her fingernails down his face, drawing blood.
“Damn you!” Williams roared.
Megan side-stepped him but felt him grab her skirt as she ran past him. He swung her around and as he did, she slipped and fell. Her temple slammed into a post and darkness descended on her for the second time that day.
Chapter 3
Liam rolled his shoulders as he turned his horse onto the lane leading to the training facility. He had told Mack he wouldn’t be leaving London until this morning, but as soon as he had gone to his rented rooms yesterday, he had changed his mind. He had quickly packed his bag, paid his account in full, and left London behind. Excitement that he had not felt in years coursed through his veins. Perhaps this would be the beginning of a new life for him.
His horse cantered up the lane when he heard a weak cry for help. He brought Draco to a stop and listened carefully. A crash sounded. There was definitely a struggle going on. He clucked to his mount and prodded it with his boots to get it moving again. As they reached the bend in the road, a stable came into view a few hundred feet away.
“Damn you!” he heard a man’s loud voice followed by a slight figure of a woman being flung across the inside like a rag doll.
Liam watched her fall to the floor and the man pounce on her vulnerable body. He dug his heels into his horse’s flanks, urging him to move faster. As they reached the entrance, Liam grabbed his whip and slipped off his horse’s back. The man had pushed his pants down his thighs and Liam took advantage by laying a lash along the man’s bare backside.
The man roared a word usually only heard on the docks of the Thames. Liam lashed at the man again, attempting to draw him off the woman. He reached down and pulled the man backwards.
“The bitch is mine!” the man roared, his face red with exertion and anger. He stumbled to his feet and charged Liam like a rutting stag, landing several punches to Liam’s face and stomach.
Liam shoved him away and landed his own blow against the man’s jaw with his right fist and then his left. The man flew backwards and landed on the hard ground. Liam allowed the man to push himself up moments before he approached him and kicked him in the jaw. The man’s head snapped backwards, his eyes rolled backwards, and he floated to the ground. Finally, the man lay unconscious outside of the stable. Liam bent over, taking several deep breaths, attempting to calm himself. He walked over to his horse, that had ambled to a nearby tree, and undid the bedroll. He approached the man once more, and tossed the blanket over his nakedness in case any women approached the scene.
He walked to the stable and saw an older man laying prone on a pile of hay. Liam crouched down and checked on him. His heart beat steadily, but he had a bloody gash on the back of his head, and a rather large bump was forming. He looked over and saw the woman sprawled on the floor. Not only was her skirt ripped, but so was the top of her riding habit. The alabaster globes of her breasts were showing signs of bruising. Liam crossed the floor and quickly tugged her top closed. She wore a pair of men’s breeches beneath her riding habit, reminding him of a woman from his past. That one piece of cl
othing more than likely spared her from a horrible fate.
Her hair had come loose in the struggle and was covering her face. The color of it reminded him so much of Megan’s that he wanted to go out and pound that man into his grave. “Calm yourself,” he censured himself. “That is something for her family to take care of.” He carefully reached out and brushed her hair aside. What he saw had him falling to his knees, his hands trembling with rage and disbelief. “Meg,” he said gently, afraid to touch her bruising face, yet needing to feel her all the same. He tenderly brushed the back of his fingers along her swelling cheek. “Meg, darlin’, can you hear me?” he queried, not realizing the old endearment had slipped out.
Liam turned her head and gently ran his fingers along her scalp. Above her right ear a large knot was forming. “I’m going to get help,” he informed her unconscious form. He stood and left the stable, tempted to cross to the still unconscious man and send him on to meet the devil. Instead, he surveyed the landscape. A house lay in the distance on a hill. He had been so intent to help the lady in distress he had missed that earlier. It was too far away to leave Megan alone with the bastard to get help.
Not far behind the stable lay two more structures with men and women wandering about outside. “Yo,” Liam called, waving his arms. Several people looked in his direction. “Help!” Soon men and women alike arrived at the stable.
“What’s all this?” a man who seemed to be in charge questioned.
“This man was attacking Megan when I came up the lane.”
“Who are you, and what gives you the right to be calling Lady Dalmore by her Christian name?”
“Lady Dalmore?”
“That’s what I said.”
“I’m an old family friend. Don’t you think it more important we take care of Lady Dalmore and the old man? We also need to make sure this other vermin,” he practically spat the word, “cannot hurt anyone else.”
“Adam, run and get Lord Southerby. Quickly, boy,” the man urged. “You stay right where you are,” he told Liam when he started to approach Megan. “Ursula, Hannah, go to Lady Dalmore,” the man in charge instructed before he split the men between the old man and the attacker.
Enticing the Weary Warrior Page 3