“Nothing at the moment.” The viscount’s voice was conversational. “Now, the three of us are going to have a pleasant walk to Burman Manor.”
“Please don’t do this, my lord,” she begged.
He ran his nose along the side of her face, breathing in deeply. “Don’t worry, my dear. This will all be over soon.”
~ ~ ~
Marcus kept his back straight as he followed Midcliffe’s butler into the study. Although he hadn’t intended to agree to a meeting here, he hadn’t wanted to take the time to arrange a different location after receiving a missive from the earl. If something had happened to Isabella, he would go mad.
“There you are, Starsen. Come in and have a seat.”
“Your message indicated Lady Isabella is in some sort of trouble. Is she unwell?” Marcus asked, ignoring his offer.
The earl laughed. “She’s very well. My message was intended to say that the matter I wished to discuss concerned her, not that she was in trouble.”
Clenching his fists, Marcus resisted the urge to send it into the man’s laughing face. He’d done that on purpose. For some reason, he wanted Marcus to react in that manner. Well, if he wanted anger, he would get anger.
“If that’s how I can expect this meeting to go, then I shall see myself out.”
“Wait. I may not have been as clear as I could have been, but your response does you justice. This does have to do with Isabella.”
“Very well.” Feeling as though he’d been set up, Marcus slid into the chair across from the man. Nothing about this situation made sense to him. Nor did Isabella’s actions the previous day.
The ability to hold her in his arms again had been heaven, but she quickly turned from him. As confusing as she’d been, he wasn’t even sure which way was up anymore. To a small degree, he wished he hadn’t met with her last night.
“Would you care for a brandy?”
“No. I would much prefer to know why you have asked me here.”
Midcliffe cleared his throat as he poured himself a glass of the amber liquid. “Well, yesterday I heard some interesting things about you. As I’m sure you know, Isabella is my top priority. Her safety and happiness is paramount.”
He should have known. The purpose of this meeting was to warn him off of Isabella again. Although Marcus wanted to jump up in a rage, he remained seated. Anger sizzled beneath his skin, regardless.
“And, what do you know about what makes her happy? You try to keep her locked up in a jar so you can take her out when it’s convenient for you.”
The man’s hand gripped his glass tightly. “Don’t speak of things you do not understand.”
“Then, maybe this cage isn’t to contain her, but so you can keep her.” The realization made Marcus sick. “That’s it, isn’t it? She’s your half-sister, for heaven’s sake.”
“I’m warning you, Starsen. Stop.”
Fury colored Midcliffe’s features, but Marcus could feel it on his own as well. Too many days of confusion and frustration boiled within him. This man sitting before him was the sole reason why Isabella wasn’t his right now. The very reason she may never be his.
“Why? You don’t like hearing the truth? You may think you are hiding behind brotherly affection, but I’m not buying it.”
The earl’s anger snapped, and he rose, slamming his fists on the desk. “I’m not her bloody brother. I do everything for her because I’m her father.”
Silence filled the room. Marcus didn’t move as shock reverberated through his body. The earl was her father?
“Then, her mother . . .”
“Was married to my father.” Midcliffe let out a long breath before he fell back into his chair. “My father was very advanced in years when he took the eighteen-year-old Maria as his wife.”
The earl’s eyes grew distant as he continued. “I was seventeen and in love. My father, as it turned out, was unable to consummate the marriage. As time wore on, Maria and I fell in love.”
“And then, she found herself with child,” Marcus finished for him.
Midcliffe nodded. “In order to avoid a scandal, we agreed to let everyone assume what they would. Then, I lost her. Barely eighteen, and left alone with a child to raise. I swore to Maria I would never allow anything bad to happen to our child.”
The anger had completely drained from Marcus. Instead, he could only feel sorrow for the man. He couldn’t imagine raising his own child without ever being able to acknowledge to her the truth behind her parentage. So much about the earl seemed to fit better into place.
“Why are you telling me all this? Why give me leverage I could use against you?”
After finishing his brandy in one shot, Midcliffe replaced the glass on the desk with a clink. “Because the girl is becoming much too spirited, and I too old. For all these years, I have decided to find her a husband worthy enough to take care of her. I have failed.”
“How does Lady Isabella feel about your decision to choose for her?”
“That’s just it. I’ve discovered that she doesn’t need me. She’s done a fine job on her own.”
“What do you mean?” Marcus couldn’t stand the small sliver of hope fighting inside his body. Could Midcliffe have decided to allow Isabella to choose her own husband? He silently prayed it was so.
“I found your letters. Dozens of them. As I read through a few, I realize you would do nicely for her. I also trust that you can tame her more wild tendencies.” Midcliffe leaned forward and steepled his fingers over the desk. “Raymond’s accounting of you only helped to confirm how ideal you would be. You watch and protect her with your presence.”
“Have you spoken to her about any of this?” Marcus asked slowly as if to make sure this was truly happening.
“Not yet. I wanted to ask a few questions first, but I believe I have the answers now.”
Letting out his breath slowly, Marcus resisted the urge to ensure he wasn’t dreaming. “So, if I decided I would like to marry Lady Isabella, I have your blessing?”
“As long as I have your solemn promise that you will protect her. However, I still have qualms about giving her to a crippled man.”
Marcus clenched his teeth. “How does that make me any less capable than you? I find it strange the way you discount me when you are in the same position as I.”
“You forget, I have Raymond. And since this has come up, I’ll have you know that I would be willing to part with him. Over the years, the man has become quite adept at locating Isabella when she strays.”
“Thank you, but no. I believe I am fully capable of keeping track of her.”
A smile turned up Midcliffe’s mouth. “Then, you’ll have her?”
“I would prefer to have a discussion with her before making my decision.”
After the man promised to deliver Lady Isabella to Avange Manor that evening, Marcus took his leave. He felt as though the world had turned upside down and ripped apart. Everything he thought he knew was incorrect, but somehow had been restrung together in a different fashion. Now, he only needed to obtain Isabella’s consent—again—then life would be perfect.
Several hours later, he let out a sigh of relief to hear a knock at his door. Isabella had finally arrived. With a smile, he granted entrance as he stood behind his desk to greet her.
However, his butler entered with another man. No Isabella.
“My lord.” The man rushed forward. “It’s Lady Isabella. She is missing.”
~ ~ ~
Isabella bit her lip as she worried at her gown. She sat in a chair located in what appeared to be an unused sitting room at Burman Manor. The viscount still held a gun to her head while Raymond paced in front of the windows. Clearly, Lord Burman knew there was no reason to restrain the angry man while she remained in danger.
“I will ask you again, who have you told?” Lord Burman demanded.
Not for the first time, Raymond responded with a snarl.
“If you want me to believe your presence here is nothing mo
re than a coincidence, you are a fool.” The viscount buffed his fingernails on his waistcoat. “What do you hope to gain by this?”
“What are you talking about, my lord?” she managed through her tight throat.
He ignored her. “This can be quick and painless, or you can watch as I slowly squeeze every ounce of blood out of her body.”
“She has nothing to do with this,” Raymond growled. “Why don’t you act like a man and come at me directly?”
The viscount laughed. “Don’t think you can trick me into losing my leverage. I have no qualms about using a woman to further my goals.”
As Raymond took up his pacing again, she bit her tongue from telling him to simply give Lord Burman what he wanted. She didn’t know the viscount well enough to know how he would react.
Clearly, he didn’t want whatever information Raymond had to be known. That meant he couldn’t afford to allow them to live. Bile rose in her throat. How could this have happened?
Thoughts of a conversation she’d had with Lady Burman returned to her. Now, as the viscountess had warned, she would never have the opportunity to tell Marcus how she really felt about him. He would spend the rest of his life not knowing how much she loved him.
Tears burned her eyes and left hot trails as they silently fell down her cheeks. If Raymond was to be believed, Marcus would not survive Henry’s meeting, either. Today would mark the end of both their lives.
The will to survive burst through her sadness. She wouldn’t give up. It was likely there was still time to save Marcus. Although, he may not know it, he needed her.
“Where is your mother during all this?” Isabella called upon her haughtiest voice. “I imagine your activities would greatly upset her.”
Lord Burman snorted. “That woman remains where I leave her, and only knows what I tell her. She’s an anchor around my neck. Her blindness was never supposed to happen.”
“Of course, it wasn’t,” Isabella soothed. “Just as your father wasn’t supposed to have been attacked, either.”
To her surprise, Raymond laughed. She glared at him. Causing the viscount more pain was not the way to get out of this situation.
“No. She was the innocent one. Until the accident. She was a wonderful mother. Then, with one mistake, my life had been drastically changed.”
Isabella wanted to point out how his mother had been affected so much more than he, but the gun pressed into her temple more firmly. She closed her eyes, not caring as her tears spilled again. She had hoped keeping him talking would have distracted his focus. She’d been wrong.
“Do you know how long I’ve searched to avenge her?” The viscount continued. “The youth somehow managed to disappear so completely, his family hadn’t even been aware of his whereabouts. He’s lucky I didn’t have them all slaughtered.”
Raymond growled again as he took a step toward Lord Burman.
“Tsk, tsk. Don’t forget who has the power here. Honestly, what type of protection are you that you travel without a weapon.”
“That’s right, I have no weapon. You’re such a coward to be afraid of an unarmed man.”
“I’m not a fool. Now, if you don’t tell me who knows about our arrangement, I’ll just kill you both now. After that, it’ll be your family.”
“What good will knowing do? Are you going to kill every single one of them?” A vein pulsed in Raymond’s neck. “You want to kill the person responsible for your mother’s injury, look to yourself. It’s your fault. There was only supposed to be one person in the carriage.”
With horrified eyes, Isabella stared into Raymond’s face. The man who her brother had entrusted her life to had been the one to murder the previous viscount and injure Lady Burman. Her head swam. He’d been hired to kill people. That was his job on the street. Raymond was a murderer.
“How was I supposed to know she had planned to join him?” Lord Burman practically screamed. “You should have left her alone. She was never part of our arrangement.”
Dear God! Viscount Burman had paid to have his father killed. Her mouth fell open as she forced herself to breathe. They were both murderers. With the knowledge she now possessed, she knew she would never survive this experience.
As she waited for the end, she thought about Marcus. Pictured his smiling face as he reached out for her. Yes. If she were to die, it would be with thoughts of him on her mind.
“Had you been man enough to stand up to your father, you never would have needed to hire me, and your mother wouldn’t have been harmed. I—”
The cracking of a gunshot echoed in the room, and Isabella screamed as she dropped herself down to the floor. The room fell eerily silent for a few seconds before the sounds of cursing and groaning filled the room.
Slowly opening her eyes, Isabella stared in shock to see the blind lady standing in the doorway, still holding a smoking pistol. Swinging her head around, Isabella watched the viscount moving toward Raymond, who was slumped on the floor. Blood leaked out of his shoulder, but he had survived.
When Lord Burman neared, Raymond slashed at him with a knife she hadn’t known he possessed. Clearly, neither did the viscount. As the men fought, Isabella quickly sprang up from her spot and hurried to the viscountess.
“Lady Burman,” she said, hoping not to alarm the woman still holding a pistol. “It’s Isabella. Can I have the gun?”
“Isabella?” The lady’s face spoke of enormous pain. “He killed my beloved. They both killed him.”
Isabella pulled the sobbing woman into her arms. They needed to get out of there before the men finished their fight, but as the viscountess crumpled to the ground, Isabella knew there was no hope of that.
“Come, my lady. Let’s leave.”
The woman wailed, and Isabella froze, realizing the only noise in the room came from Lady Burman. Glancing at the men, she pushed herself in front of the countess to protect the woman. Bloody with his face swollen, Raymond moved toward them. The viscount’s unmoving form remained on the floor behind him.
“Move, Isabella. Let me finish this, then we can return home.”
“No. She’s blind. She didn’t know what she was doing.”
An evil light entered his wild eyes. “She knew exactly what she was doing. I don’t want to hurt you, but I can’t let her live.”
Drawing herself to her feet, Isabella glared up at him. “Do what you will, but you aren’t going to touch her.”
Chapter 16
Marcus ran through the hallway toward the sound of wailing. When he reached a room at the back of the manor, his heart stopped. Raymond stood, covered in blood, a knife in his hand poised to strike Isabella. Marcus sent up a silent prayer of thanks that the man hadn’t caught sight of him.
Marcus lunged at him, knocking them both to the ground. Raymond roared, his full attention now on Marcus as his arms swung up to dislodge him. Although many years had passed since his last fight, Marcus wasn’t a stranger to a round of fisticuffs. As a youth, he’d been in fights no less than once a week.
As his knuckles made contact with Raymond’s nose, he felt the satisfying crunch, then pain exploded in his shoulder as the blade made purchase in his flesh. Marcus roared when the bounder yanked it out and posed to strike again.
Pushing through the agony, he slammed his fist as hard as he could at the man’s bloody shoulder, eliciting a sickening scream. With his other hand, he managed to knock the knife from his grasp. Considering Raymond had lost a significant amount of blood from his wound, his blows were becoming less potent.
“Leave him alone.” The cocking of a pistol accompanied Isabella’s words.
Both men stilled. Her stance was unwavering as she pointed the weapon directly at Raymond’s face. Pride welled inside Marcus. His woman didn’t sit back and wait to be rescued.
Raymond let out a weak laugh, showing off teeth covered in blood. “You’ve already lost your shot. You can’t hurt me.”
She lifted an eyebrow. “Are you willing to take the chance that I don’
t know how to load a pistol?”
“What the devil is going on in here?” Midcliffe demanded as he entered the room. “Isabella, put that down.”
“He killed Viscount Burman and tried to kill me and Marcus,” she protested.
Beginning to feel lightheaded, Marcus fell back to the ground. Isabella screamed and grabbed on to his side, the pistol forgotten. Glancing down at Raymond, Marcus was relieved to see his eyes closed. It was over.
Isabella clung to him, pressing the palm of her hand against his shoulder. The pain was so intense, he could see her mouth moving, but his hearing had dulled. Tears streamed down her face, and he wanted to assure her that he was all right, but he couldn’t find his voice.
The last thing he remembered was her face before he gave into the void.
~ ~ ~
Marcus shifted, then groaned as pain stabbed through his left shoulder. What had happened to him? Glancing down he saw bandages across his chest and arm.
When his memory came rushing back, he dropped his head against the pillow again. Dear God, he’d almost lost Isabella. Never before had he been so afraid. The thought of something happening to her had his stomach churning. If he’d been but a moment later . . .
Seeing her in danger made him experience a moment of total clarity. He loved her. Contrary to what he’d previously believed, the emotion wasn’t calm or sedate. Love was messy. It was a frenzy that left you wanting to explode in happiness, or to rip your heart out in a rage.
He glanced around the room, hoping to see his beloved, but his bedchamber was empty. Noticing a pitcher of water on the nightstand, he reached out, but searing pain rippled through him, forcing a cry from his throat.
Thankfully, his door opened and his mother walked in. “I should have known. I leave the room for one minute, and you choose that moment to return to consciousness.”
“Water, please,” he croaked through his burning throat.
“Of course.” She crossed the room, poured him a glass, then held it to his lips.
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