Stealing a Lady's Heart: A Regency Fairytale (Fairfield Fairytales Book 1)

by Tammy Andresen

  The moon cast a dim light on the front drive as Graham peered into the trees. He couldn’t see or hear anything unusual. The wind blew softly as the warm summer night hummed around them. Graham raised his sword as his eyes scanned in every direction.

  The breeze stilled and, as if on cue, the crickets ceased their chirping. The whole night became deadly quiet. Graham tensed his body as he peered even harder into the night.

  A cloud crossed the moon. Graham gritted his teeth. His hands tightened around the hilt of his sword.

  A cry split the air as twenty men poured out of the trees and ran directly at the house. Graham stepped one foot back for leverage and then hurtled himself towards the advancing line.

  The men careened towards each other. Graham’s sword swung back slightly for more power in the forward swing. Suddenly the still night changed and a fierce gust of wind swirled around Graham. Two men who had been running directly at him were knocked off course. Graham stood unharmed while fighting broke out all around him.

  He spun on his heel and, amidst the crowd of men, the marquess suddenly appeared. The other man’s eyes swept the crowd of men. They stopped when they met Graham’s. Graham’s insides tightened as he tensed for the fight. Graham bowed slightly to his adversary as the marquess turned to greet him.

  Graham assessed the man in front of him. Long black hair was pulled into a pony tail. A hawkish nose protruded out over thin, hard lips. The marquess seemed to be sizing him up as well.

  “How did you manipulate the wind?” The marquess asked, sneering at Graham. Swords clanked around them but Graham paid them no mind.

  Graham would not share that he had no control over the elements. Instead he asked a question of his own. “How did you find us in the forest?”

  The marquess was silent for a moment. “I sense no magic in you and yet you have foiled me up to this point. I want to know how you did it. I want to know how an ordinary man has escaped me.”

  “Maybe I’m not ordinary.” Graham shrugged. His insides were churning but he kept his exterior a mask of calm.

  “No matter, my future wife will tell me,” the marquess taunted as he advanced a step.

  “My wife will tell you nothing,” Graham softly stated.

  The marquess stopped. His lip curled into a sneer. “Your wife?”

  “Yes, my wife,” Graham smiled coldly. He knew he was goading the marquess. He wanted the other man angry. Angry men made mistakes.

  “I will kill you slowly,” the marquess charged. From his billowing cape he drew a sword. It looked to be made of gold with several jewels at the hilt. He raised the sword swinging straight for Graham but Tom ran in from the side and jumped in front of the Marquess. He attempted to block the swing.

  Tom’s sword shattered in his hands and his cry wrenched through the night as he fell to the ground. He rolled away as Nick stepped up and attempted to stab at the marquess. His sword almost bounced off the marquess’ stomach and the marquess grabbed Nick by the throat, tossing him to the side. Graham looked at both of his brothers. They weren’t seriously injured. The marquess clearly had some power to protect himself. Like little Ewan with the visions.

  “Your swords cannot penetrate me and your weapons will not stand against mine. You have lost already.” The marquess let a cold peal of laughter bubble from his lips.

  Graham only smiled back. The grin on the marquess’ lips seemed to die. “You are not afraid enough,” the marquess grit out.

  Graham cocked an eyebrow taunting the other man, “I have two older brothers. Intimidation is not something I bend to.”

  “I have seen what your brothers can do. They cannot stand against me. You should be afraid of me.” The marquess swung his sword high and tried to crash it down on Graham. Graham stepped back and raised his sword to block. Triumph gleamed in the marquess’ eyes. He expected Graham’s sword to shatter but as the two swords met, a resounding clank filled the air. Both swords stopped dead. They were evenly matched.

  “That is not possible!” the marquess burst out as he swung his sword again and again at Graham. Graham fended off each one. “You don’t have the magic, you shouldn’t be able to match me.”

  “But I can,” Graham growled as he took a swing at the marquess, who had to side step. It was Graham who was leading the attack now. They moved about the grounds dodging other men as they went. Out of the corner of Graham’s eye, he saw the double doors of the main entrance open. His father, the duke and little Ewan stepped out.

  Graham blocked a thrust from the marquess and then pierced the other man’s shoulder with his sword. The marquess cried out with pain and rage and doubled his attacks. Graham fought each of them off.

  The marquess was sweating and he swayed slightly on his feet. Graham attacked again but the marquess fought him off. The Marquess yelled and two other men attacked Graham as the Marquess retreated behind a line of his men.

  Two more men joined the fight against Graham. He bested them but it took a great deal of his strength. He was gasping for breath but he turned back to his real adversary. He wouldn’t give up now.

  The marquess watched from a distance. Just as Graham killed the last man he saw the marquess’ eyes fell on little Ewan. “Well hello,” he stared at the boy. Then he headed straight for the child.

  “No!” Graham heard Charlotte’s cry from the doorway as she raced toward them.

  “Don’t Charlotte.” Graham forced his legs to move forward as he ran towards his wife.

  The marquess saw her too and changed directions to head straight for her. Graham pushed himself harder. The marquess was going to beat him. He would take Charlotte. Graham gasped for air as he pushed himself harder. Charlotte raced for him.

  The marquess was winning. If he got to her first his men could close ranks around them and the marquess could take her. He wouldn’t be able to climb through the window to save her this time.

  He pushed himself faster using every ounce of strength he had.

  Graham and Charlotte met just in front of the marquess. “Kill him!” Charlotte screamed as the marquess bore down on them.

  Graham attempted to thrust his sword but his arms were weak. The marquess laughed maniacally as he raised his own sword above his head.

  Charlotte grasped the hilt of Graham’s sword with Graham. “Together,” she yelled. The two of them thrust the sword into the marquess’ chest.

  He fell to the ground a look of shock and horror on his face. Graham and Charlotte clutched each other as the marquess gasped for breath.

  An orb of light seemed to rise from out of the wound. It was a beautiful pearl color that shone in the darkness.

  “It is his magic.” Little Ewan came up next to them. “Don’t be afraid. It won’t hurt you.”

  The ball moved towards them. It danced around Little Ewan. The boy laughed delightedly. “I have magic already.”

  The ball bounced slightly like it was laughing along with the boy. Then it moved towards Graham. It danced around him for a second zipping this way and that. Then, it moved to Charlotte. It floated just in front of her as if it were greeting her.

  “Hello,” she said with a smile.

  “No,” the marquess whispered, grimacing in pain.

  The ball of light quivered at the marquess’ words and then floated down to Charlotte’s stomach. It pressed itself against her abdomen and seemed to sink inside of her.

  “What just happened?” she yelped in fear.

  “Your child will have magic like mine. But do not worry. He will be a great force of good.” Little Ewan smiled. Then, he looked at the marquess. “Do you want me to heal you?”

  “No,” the marquess gritted out. He lay there panting. Graham looked up. The soldiers he had brought had simply disappeared. The marquess’ breathing was very rapid until suddenly it just stopped.

  “Oh,” Charlotte’s eyes filled with tears and Graham wrapped his arms around her.

  “We could not help him
,” he tried to console his wife.

  “I know. I will truly feel safer without him in the world but it is hard to see anyone die.” Charlotte shuddered.

  “That is why you are so good, my love.” Graham’s lips gently found Charlotte’s and they clung together for a few moments.

  “Am I really your love?” Charlotte stared into his eyes searching his face.

  He marveled to himself, wondering how she could possibly question the depth of his feelings. He sat bleeding, from a number of wounds, nearly having lost his life. “I will never love anyone as much as I love you.” He kissed her again.

  “I love you too. With all of my heart.” Charlotte laid her head on his shoulder.

  The duke walked next to them. “You’re all right Papa?” Charlotte stood and embraced her father.

  “It was not me who was in harm’s way. It was your husband.” He stroked his daughter’s cheek.

  Will pulled his brother, Tom, up from the ground. Graham groaned. Every muscle in his body ached. “I missed all the fun,” Will smiled at his brother.

  “You did a terrible job of guarding my wife,” Graham glowered

  Will shrugged. He looked at Charlotte. She nodded her head. Will took a deep breath. “The wind whispered to us that Charlotte was needed outside.” Will rubbed the back of his neck with his hand.

  Graham shook his head. “As long as I live I will never understand the forces at work here today.”

  “We don’t have to understand them, just accept them and be glad.” Charlotte slipped her hands around her Graham’s waist. He leaned his weight on her and they began walking towards the doors.

  Graham looked down at his wife and she looked up at him. “We have our forever.” Her eyes shone and Graham smiled down at her.

  “We have our forever.” He couldn’t have been happier.

  STEALING A LADY’S HEART

  EPILOGUE

  Charlotte lay exhausted in her bed at Harlington Manor. Graham sat behind her. He was cradling her and their newborn son in his arms.

  A warm breeze blew in the open balcony doors, a rare warm day in early spring.

  “My sweet wife. You did marvelously.” He kissed her sweaty temple, holding her closer.

  “My handsome Marquess.” She turned and smiled softly at Graham.

  Graham chuckled. He had not gotten used to the new title that had been bestowed upon him by the king regent. Nick and Tom had been made viscounts while Will had received the additional title of earl. Money and lands had been bestowed to each brother.

  Graham had been shocked that the king regent had been so generous just for saving his favorite cousin but Ewan had smiled. “He is the King and aware of all forces in his kingdom. He knows the real service you have performed.”

  Graham had been introduced to English society and had the couple had spent a few months enjoying the season with the ton. But both had longed for a quieter life and Charlotte wanted their baby to be born in the north.

  They had returned to help complete the repairs on the manor. Once done, they would begin building their own home.

  Graham kissed his wife again. Her eyes drifted up to him with a sleepy expression. A coy smile spread across her lips. “For a locksmith who prided himself on honor, thieving has really worked out for you.”

  A breeze blew in from outdoors, swirling around the couple.

  “What are you talking about?” He held his wife tighter.

  “You stole my heart.” She laid her cheek on his shoulder.

  Graham laughed as the wind whipped around them, congratulating them on their new child.

  “And you mine.” The wind swirled one more time and then softly closed the doors allowing the new family to fall asleep.

  The Marquess of Huntly had never really stood a chance. For all his power and his magic, he was still only a man. How can one man fight the wind and the trees and the forces of fate that can’t be touched and always side with good?

  THE FOUR CLEVER BROTHERS

  TOLD BY THE BROTHERS GRIMM

  Once upon a time, a beautiful princess was kidnapped by a powerful and fierce dragon. The King, her father, begged every knight in the land to rescue his daughter, but none would.

  Finally, four brothers stepped forward. They were not knights, but simple tradesman. The first was a huntsman, the second a tailor, the third a stargazer, and the last a thief.

  The stargazer used the night sky to navigate them to the dragon’s island home. The thief stole her back from the dragon, pulling her right out from under the beast’s sleeping body.

  As they sailed home, the great dragon attacked. The huntsman killed him with a single arrow, but his massive tail laid waste to their ship. The tailor sewed their boat back together, sailing them safely home.

  The king was so thrilled to have his daughter returned that he awarded each brother a great fortune, land, and titles.

  NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR

  While this story is far less known than many fairy tales, I could not resist the action, adventure, and potential for romance that this story held. While a Regency romance could not have a dragon, it was perfect for a fierce villain with a hint of magic. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Thank you so much for sharing this experience with me.

  EXCERPT

  TAMING A DUKE’S RECKLESS HEART

  May 1854, Boston, MA

  Piper sat on the couch in Senator Asher Grey’s drawing room and surveyed the crowd of men who sat around her. She could have yawned with boredom because it was like every other party she attended recently. Every eligible man was at her feet. After a while, a girl wants a challenge.

  Her mother told her if she didn’t want their attention, she should stop making a spectacle of herself. She supposed her mother had a point, but desperate times called for desperate measures. And so, Piper would let the beautiful trill of her laugh wash over the room. She would flutter her lashes and fan her cheeks. She would let her gaze linger on a man a moment too long, and he would fall into her trap.

  Therein lied the problem. Once a suitor was properly snared, Piper became thoroughly bored. It was all too easy. She really should just pick one of them and marry him. It would solve a great many problems, but she couldn’t seem to make herself do it.

  Perhaps it was a family curse. Her cousin, Sybil, also needed to marry but had yet to choose a suitor. A sigh escaped her lips to think of her cousin. Beautiful and titled, she supposed most women would be jealous of Sybil, but Piper knew the truth. After the death of her parents, Sybil seemed weighed down with responsibility. She was having difficulty running the estate. Piper’s brow furrowed with worry. She wasn’t sure how to help this beautiful woman who had been so like a sister.

  One of the more astute men, Peter Long, picked up on the sigh. “Dear Miss Baker. What could be so wrong that you would look so?”

  The exaggerated manner of his speaking grated her senses. Piper resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Instead, she smiled angelically. “It’s silly, but I find myself missing my cousin, Sybil.”

  The men shifted around her, and Piper perceived a slight change in their attention. Another suitor responded quietly, “I don’t know why Lady Fairfield had to go to New York. She could have easily found a suitor for herself here.”

  A few other men nodded and Piper sat forward in her chair. Her eyebrows arched. This was actually getting interesting. “I will be sure to share that with her if New York is not a success.”

  Piper stood, eager to slip out while her suitors were distracted by talk of her cousin. She couldn’t fault them for their fickle interest; her titled cousin was the better catch by far. Though Piper was in a desperate situation of her own, she would happily hand over one of her own suitors if it meant her cousin’s happiness.

  “If you will excuse me gentlemen, the hour grows late.” She gave them a parting nod but the men seemed to realize they had allowed their focus to wander, and they now wanted to shift it back to t
he woman in front of them.

  “Oh, it isn’t late. Stay. Don’t leave yet,” they seemed to all say of one voice.

  “Forgive me gentlemen, but I too am travelling to New York tomorrow, and a lady must prepare. I will return before you know it. I beg you, wait for me till then.”

  She gave the smallest of waves with just the tips of her fingers and signaled to her mother she was ready to leave. Exhaustion swept over her as she headed for the doors. She wished she had made some sort of connection with one of these men.

  ***

  Later that evening, Piper looked at the dresses she had arranged on the bed to take on the journey to New York. A small frown creased her brow. Many of them were from last season and had been reworked. While the men would hardly mind, the ladies of New York would notice. They might deny her invitations she desperately needed. There was nothing, however, she could do about it now. She had to hope Sybil’s influence and her charm would allow her to enter New York society.

  “Why are you packing now? Our ship does not leave until tomorrow evening. You could do this in the morning.” Her mother’s voice sounded tired as she sat in the corner of Piper’s room.

  “Go to bed if you do not wish to stay up. I am going to pack now and then sleep tomorrow during the day so I can stay awake on the ship.” Piper bit her lip as she turned away from her mother. The older woman had been tired a great deal of late.

  “No, you are right. It is a good plan. I am sorry we have to leave port on the later tide. It’s just Mr. Abbot was able to secure an excellent price at that time…” Mrs. Baker began rambling an explanation.

  Piper soothed her mother. “It doesn’t matter. It will be good training for the New York season to stay up late. I must stay till the end if I am going to meet the best gentlemen.”