by Kelly Boyce
“Are you not listening to me, Miss Cosgrove?” Anger pinched his words and she took a deep breath. She must keep him calm.
“Forgive me. I feel a bit heavy headed.”
He released her curl and cupped her face, his thumb brushing over her bruised cheekbone. She winced and he smiled, but there was no apology in the expression. “Then rest, my dear. I will want you in proper form for our wedding night.”
Wedding night?
“You looked surprised.” He leaned in, his breath brushing against her skin causing her to recoil. “Unfortunately, I do not have the same protections as a Peer of the Realm, so I must go about things a little differently. I have a future to protect, after all. As my wife, under the law you will belong to me.”
He grinned and his eyes lit up with a sickening mixture of madness and self-importance. “Brilliant, isn’t it? Oh, I am certain the late Lord Hawksmoor is positively spinning in his grave over it. He always told me my methods lacked precision and panache, but I prefer the well thought out scenario. It has a certain finesse that his bullish ways lacked.”
True fear sliced through her veins as he stood and returned to the woodstove to stoke the fire. How long had he been planning this? Months? Years? She didn’t realize she had asked the question aloud until he turned around to answer.
“I have known you were working at Northill for several months. I have little birds that whisper their secrets to me. When I learned Hawksmoor was brought there after that foolishness with Lord Pengrin, the serendipity of it all was almost too much to believe. It was as if fate was telling me the time had come. I journeyed from London and came here, searched out the area for the perfect hiding place, the best route to take us to Gretna Green—”
“Gretna Green?”
He looked at her and chuckled. “I cannot risk a lengthy engagement, I’m afraid. You have a habit of declining suitors and I am quite set upon seeing us wed.”
Her stomach heaved. He had thought of everything.
He continued on as if his intentions were perfectly normal. “I was set to put my plan into action while Lord Hawksmoor convalesced. Imagine my excitement over the prospect of snatching you right out from under the nose of the great man known as The Hawk.” Major Gibbons turned his hands into claws, his fingers curling into long talons. “But alas, you went off to London and I was forced to bide my time, alter my tactics somewhat. Though I am grateful for the delay as it gave me the opportunity to get to know you first. And I must admit, that has made my victory all the sweeter.”
“But why me? You did not have an argument with the current Lord Hawksmoor. Why not simply let the matter go?”
He laughed and dropped his arms to his side. “Because you were the chosen quarry. And where the late earl had failed to win the contest, I will not. I will win this final challenge and claim myself the ultimate victor. I will put to bed his arrogant belief that I could never best him and I shall do so in spectacular fashion, taking his own game to a whole new level. That the current Lord Hawksmoor should suffer as a result, is simply icing upon the cake.” He stalked toward her as if she were his prey and knelt at the bedside once more. “I have waited patiently for this moment, my dear. And it was a moment that was not easy to come by, I might add. You are a hard lady to keep track of, with all your moving about over the years. But I have you now and you will be mine.”
“You can’t force me to marry you, not even at Gretna Green.” At least she did not think so. She had heard stories of people running off there and being married, but both had been willing participants. Surely, whomever it was that joined the couples in matrimony would not do so if both were not amenable to the union.
Major Gibbons’s smile froze on his face. She had once thought him charming, but no longer. Now, the madness had taken over, changing features that had once seemed friendly into something darker and far more sinister. He had hidden his madness much better than Hawk’s older brother ever had. She’d seen no hint of it before this day. Had Hawk? Had he suspected? He’d disliked the major on sight. Had some part of him recognized the madness even if he didn’t realize what he was looking at?
“You will have little choice, my dear. If you do not, you will be completely ruined in a far worse way than Lord Hawksmoor’s ill thought out kiss at the Dunhills’. Why, likely no one will remember that by next month. And if they do, it will be his actions they recall and not the insignificant chit that was the recipient. But they will remember you spent the night alone with me in a secluded cabin and they will know what we did while we were here.”
His threat did not faze her. Utter ruination was nothing compared to being married to this lunatic. Despite his claim that he had carefully thought out his plan, it still had several gaping holes that his arrogance had not allowed him to see. Did he honestly think anyone present at this marriage ceremony would allow him to hurt her if she refused him? If she could keep a level head, make him think her too meek to fight him; she stood a chance at escaping once they reached Gretna Green.
He trailed his fingertips down her jaw and neck, not stopping until it reached the fichu tucked into her bodice. Revulsion lanced through her as he pulled lightly at the gauzy material, a sick smile playing about his lips.
“You are quite a vision, Miss Cosgrove. My adversary chose well, I will give him that much. I shall much enjoy making you mine over and over again. You quite overwhelm me and I cannot claim I will be able to control myself and make it gentle for you.”
“Don’t,” she said, the fear that shook her voice true and real, filling her mind with horrible images of what he might do. But how did she stop him? Her hands were bound and he had at least three stone on her, maybe more. Even if she were able to break free, where would she go? She did not even know where she was and the cloak she’d worn when she left Northill’s main house was not in sight. Escape would send her out into the cold. She’d freeze to death before she ever found her way back to civilization. “Please. If we are to marry, I would prefer to come to you as a maiden on our wedding night.”
He lifted his hand and stared at her a moment. Madalene struggled to hide her disgust. “It would make the victory more pleasurable, wouldn’t it?”
She swallowed against the knot of fear lodged in her throat, but it refused to budge.
“Very well then,” Major Gibbons said, pushing to his feet. “We shall wait. The anticipation can only heighten the reward, can it not?”
She didn’t answer but waited until he turned away before she buried her face in the feather pillow, allowing it to absorb the tears filling her eyes. The thought of this man’s touch was inconceivable. She belonged to another.
She belonged to Hawk.
* * *
“How much farther?” Irritation masked the fear in Hawk’s voice as he asked the question for what had to be the tenth time. It seemed they had been riding through the white landscape for days instead of hours. The fact that his jaw throbbed as if he’d been hit with an iron bar did nothing to improve his mood one iota.
Though if he expected an apology from Mr. Cosgrove, he would be waiting until hell froze over. Apparently, Bowen’s steward considered it well within his rights to haul a Peer of the Realm off his horse and plant his fist into said lord’s face.
For a one-armed man, he had an appalling amount of strength and agility. It had been a good hour before Hawk’s head cleared well enough to allow him to start questioning how much longer he would be stuck on this damnable horse before they reached their destination. Only Bowen’s calm intervention, suggesting to Cosgrove that if Hawk were knocked senseless they would be down a man, was enough to ward off a second blow. For the time being, at least.
The men had split up. Bowen and Huntsleigh had gone off in one direction toward town in case Gibbons was foolish enough to try and hide her in plain sight, while he, Blackbourne and Madalene’s father made the journey to the hunting cabin situated in the hills that separated the Blackbourne property from the Ellesmere lands.
“
Not too far now,” Blackbourne answered, his tone grim. The words did nothing to calm the growing dread in Hawk’s gut.
The sun had dipped below the horizon, the last of the day’s light extinguished, leaving behind only the glow of the moon against the pristine snow to light their way. They avoided the copse of trees that dotted the area, though normally taking the pathways through them would have saved time. But Blackbourne had indicated traversing the woods was folly as they had but one lantern amongst them and risked injury should their horses falter amongst the roots and rocks that dotted the way.
The extra time gnawed at Hawk’s gut and he cursed each extra moment that separated him from Madalene. He refused to even contemplate the possibility she would not be at the cabin. She had to be. It was the only solution that made sense. He doubted a man with the strategic mind of Gibbons would ride into town where anyone could recognize her. And he had not allowed himself enough daylight to escape through the woods. But what if mention of the cabin had only been a ruse? What if he had taken another direction entirely?
He had to believe the man had built his plan based on his surroundings. That he had scouted the area around Northill. Such forethought on Gibbons part did nothing to bring Hawk any ease. The man had been planning this for years, the taunts in his letters a clear indication of his intent to not let the challenge go unfinished.
Fear, cold and unabated, whispered on the breeze that ruffled his hair and sent a chill down his spine.
Gibbons must have been searching for her all these years, but Madalene’s constant moving around made her an elusive target. At least for the major. Gibbons may have a gift for strategy, but Hawk had excelled at gathering information. He smiled at the frustration this must have filled Gibbons with, his quarry flitting about like a firefly, leaving a trail of light that would fade before he could follow it to its new destination.
Hawk had kept a close eye on her from afar, only feeling a sense of relief once she and her father had come to Northill. Bowen would not allow any harm to come to her, of that he was certain. It brought him some comfort. Allowed him to go about his business without constant worry. He had been determined not to see her, regardless of how much he longed to. He did not want to risk leading Lord T to her. But Pengrin’s attempt to kill him had put an end to that. Or perhaps it had been a sign fate wished them to collide once more.
This time, however, he had no intentions of letting her go despite the debacle of his proposal. God, he had made such a muck of it. Not that he didn’t want to protect her. He did. But not out of duty. He wanted to protect her—no, was compelled to—because he loved her. Because every minute of his life after he’d lost her had been empty and void of meaning. Because every woman he’d met after knowing her paled in comparison and was found lacking. Because he was meant to be with her.
Until Phillip’s actions made that impossible. In one horrible night, he’d lost her forever. To be with her meant putting her in danger, something he could not risk. But fate had other plans it seemed, ensuring their paths intersected once more. The moment her soft lips had brushed against his mouth and she’d whispered his name his heart knew, even when every other memory eluded him, his heart somehow knew. She was his. And he was and would always be hers.
Blackbourne held up a hand and Hawk and Cosgrove pulled up on the reins.
“Over there.” He pointed upward over the tops of the trees in the distance where the dark sky was interrupted by a curl of smoke reaching toward the stars.
Relief swept through Hawk. They had guessed correctly. Gibbons and Madalene were at the cabin. But the fear did not leave him. When they reached her, what would they find? Had he touched her? Harmed her? Killed—
Hawk stopped the thought before it finished. He would not allow it. She could not be dead. They could not have endured all of this only to lose out on the chance of being together forever in the end.
He turned in his saddle to face Cosgrove. “Sir, I should inform you that when we rescue your daughter, I have every intention of marrying her.”
Blackbourne turned around in his seat. “Are you mad? You want to have this conversation with the lady’s father now?”
“I think he should know my intentions.” Hawk turned back to Cosgrove who had yet to utter a word since socking him in the jaw. “I realize I am far from worthy of her, but I love her and it can’t be helped. Once she is safe, I plan on convincing her that we are meant to be together.”
“I see.” Cosgrove lifted one snowy white eyebrow. “And how do you plan on doing that?”
Hawk’s shoulders slumped. “I have not entirely figured that part out yet.”
His love’s father gave a slow nod. “Then I suppose we best make our way to the cabin, retrieve her from that bastard and see what we might do about your plans.”
Blackbourne shook his head. “You’re all madmen,” he muttered.
Hawk nudged his horse onward, glancing at his old friend as he rode past him. “Might I remind you, Blackbourne, the lengths you went through to secure your bride despite being affianced to another?”
Blackbourne scowled. “Suppose we stop talking and see about saving the young lady as Cosgrove suggests. Head this way,” he said pointing toward the trees. “We’ll hobble the horses and go the rest of way on foot so as not to alert him to our presence.”
To say walking through the shin deep snow was a cold endeavor did not do the enterprise justice. His feet had lost all feeling save for an intense burning that he was certain did not bode well. But it was a small price to pay if they were able to reach the cabin and ensure Madalene’s safety.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Madalene tried to keep her eyes open, but continually lost the battle despite her best efforts. Only unfamiliar sounds would catch her unaware and jerk her back to wakefulness, bringing with it a rush of terror as she was reminded of her whereabouts and the major’s intentions. She could not say what the sound was that awakened her this time. She lifted her head, her pillow damp from her tears, and searched the tiny cabin. Major Gibbons snored lightly from his position near the woodstove. He’d pulled an armchair close to the fire and thrown a blanket over his torso, leaving his legs stretched outward. Was it his snoring that had disturbed her sleep?
Another sound caught her attention. The snort of their horses in the lean-to stable outside. Had they heard an animal creeping about? What would happen if the horses were attacked? She had toyed with the idea of sneaking out of the cabin and using the horse to ride to safety. But she had quickly set that idea aside once the sun had set and left the landscape shrouded in darkness. Besides, her hands remained bound, making riding impossible.
Another snort.
Major Gibbons stirred, drawing in a deep breath before shifting slightly in his chair. The candles on the table continued to burn, but would soon reach the end of their wick, smothering the last of their light. The fire in the woodstove burned, its glow reaching out through the narrow grate in the door but going no farther than the tip of Major Gibbons’ boots. If she decided to make a run for it, the chances of her reaching the door without stumbling over something and awakening her captor were slim. Slimmer still were her chances of surviving a night in the cold without benefit of a coat.
Her only hope was to wait until daylight and then—
One of the horses neighed louder this time, enough to awaken Major Gibbons. He sat upright and tossed aside the blanket that covered him, reaching beneath his chair for his pistol.
“Come here.” He motioned to her, but she didn’t move. She would offer him no assistance. Goosebumps shivered down her spine. Something was happening, she could sense it, though whether good or bad she could not say.
Major Gibbons crossed the room in three angry strides and grabbed her arm, hauling her to her feet. A sharp cry escaped her as the door burst open, bringing with it a cold burst of frigid air.
Major Gibbons spun her about to face the door, the muzzle of the pistol pressed harshly against her cheek. A dark silhoue
tte filled the empty space where the door had been and though the candles did not cast enough light to reveal their sudden visitor, it wasn’t necessary. Madalene would know that frame anywhere.
Hawk.
He had kept his promise. He would protect her.
“Good evening, Major. We were in the area and thought we might come by for a visit.”
Major Gibbons’ arm tightened around her waist. It was clear he had not expected to be found out. So sure he had been in his abilities to best Hawk and win this godforsaken challenge, it never once entered his mind that he would be discovered, let alone thwarted. The sudden change threw his well-crafted plan into chaos and his sputtering nonsensical words made it clear he did not excel at changing course without notice and forethought.
“Not another step, Hawksmoor.” The muzzle pressed harder against her cheekbone and Madalene stifled a whimper that threatened to escape. She would not give him the satisfaction, nor allow her fear to temper Hawk’s actions. She needed him to be The Hawk now. To swoop down upon her captor and dig his sharp talons in deep and without mercy.
“That’s quite inhospitable of you, Gibbons. Is this the type of manners they teach you where you are from? Tsk.”
Hawk ignored her captor’s instructions and took another step forward, moving deeper into the cabin. He was close enough now that the candlelight’s glow danced with the shadows that covered his face. The play of light and dark gave him the appearance of an avenging angel, but likely it was more of the Devil that Major Gibbons would see this night. Just as Phillip had all those years ago when he’d tried to harm her.
A strange calm entered her. When Phillip had attacked her, she’d called for Hawk, knowing he would protect her and keep her safe. A certainty that had not diminished to this day, no matter how much she had asked him to give it up. Let it go.
He hadn’t. And she had never loved him more for ignoring her insistence in that regard.