“Of course, I do.” Nora touched his shoulder. “You’re my brother. I love you.”
Meri smiled.
She turned to Garrick. “Thank you.”
He picked her up and started out of the basement.
“I love you,” she said. “Thank you.”
He carried her up the stairs. “I... wanted to…”
“I know.” He’d gone to kill her brother, but something had happened to stop him. She didn’t know what, but they were alive. They were both alive. “But you didn’t. You didn’t do it.”
He frowned.
She leaned closer to him and rested her head by his throat. She wrapped her arms around him. “It’s all right. Everything will be all right.”
He said nothing and eventually, Nora fell silent again and could only hope she was right.
∫ ∫ ∫
6 0
* * *
“We should wake her,” a soft voice said.
“No, let her sleep.” The second voice was a dark baritone that warmed Nora’s blood.
Nora tightened lids and slowed her breathing.
“But she’s been sleeping forever,” Miriam pouted. There was a soft bounce on the bed in front of her.
“Your mother had a very long night.” Garrick’s voice was as smooth as black silk.
He rested behind her. She imagined his head being held up by a hand, anchored by an elbow that dug into the bed underneath them. She hardly recalled going to bed last night. She’d been so tired. Once the danger had passed, exhaustion filled her.
Nora had to fight a smile. Her body trembled with joy. Garrick could speak!
“But you’re so calm now,” Miriam whined. “I want her to hear you talk.”
There was a smile in his voice. “I believe she can.” His breath brushed her ear. “Isn’t that right?”
Nora turned her head and peeked over at Garrick. “How did you know I was awake?”
“I saw you stiffen.” His eyes teased her. “Good morning.”
He’d never said that to her before.
She unleashed her grin. “Good morning.”
“Isn’t Papa’s voice wonderful, Mama?” Miriam asked.
Nora nodded. It was the best way to begin a morning. The light that came through the window was gray. She heard the distant sound of rain and wondered at the hour. She could see from the decor that they were in her room and in her bed. She glanced down and was thankful that Garrick had on clothes at least. “What time is it?”
“Just after noon,” her husband replied, speaking as though it were the most natural thing to do.
“We’re still going to Uncle Marley’s, aren’t we?” Miriam asked. “I want ice cream. Might I have ice cream?”
Garrick looked up at her. “You can have whatever you want.”
“Huzzah!” Miriam hopped off the bed. “You’re the best papa in the world! I’ll go get Monica and Ebba ready.” She’d finally named her second doll, it seemed.
“Did she name her doll after your cousin?”
Garrick nodded. “Apparently, Ebba visited Lucy the other day while Miriam was present and told the girl how she’d put us together. In gratitude, Miriam named her doll after Ebba.”
“How wonderful.” Now she’d have to hear Ebba’s name all the time. “I wonder if she came up with the idea all on her own.”
His grin was lazy. “I doubt it.”
She stared at him and asked, “Why now?”
He answered the question with the little context she’d given him. His expression was serious. “Because I did something terrible yesterday and you forgave me easily.”
“You didn’t kill my brother.”
“But I was going to,” Garrick said. “You knew I meant to.”
“Would you have?” she asked. “Would you have truly killed him?”
“I don’t know,” Garrick said. “We’ll never know. What I do know is I can’t kill him now. We both know what it is like to lose someone we love.” He touched her cheek. “I’ll never put you through that again.”
She touched his chest. “Thank you.” She closed her eyes and sighed. “But my brother must be dealt with.”
“We should dress and ready.”
Nora reopened her eyes and stared at her husband. “Where’s my brother?”
Garrick sighed. “At Marley’s house.”
She was still struggling to come to terms that her husband was speaking to her. It took her a moment to voice her question. “Why?”
“He is going to reveal what happened with Lettie and then he will turn himself in for the murder of Lord Gregory.”
Nora was surprised. “It was my brother who shot Lord Gregory?”
“No, it was me, but your brother has decided to accept the consequences for the crime. You should also know that Joshua is alive. I have it confirmed that he went to Scotland a few days ago. Also, Lettie’s death was not purposefully done, but I’ll allow Meri to share those details with you.”
Nora blinked. “Lettie is dead?”
Garrick nodded. “Lady Johanna will meet us at Marley’s house as well. He plans to tell her the truth.”
Nora sat up. “I must speak to him.”
Garrick said nothing as he left the room.
Nora dressed quickly. Garrick and Nora were ready by the time she made it downstairs.
“Did you wish breakfast?” Garrick asked her.
Nora shook her head. She wasn’t sure she could hold anything down. “No, I only wish to see my brother.”
“Uncle Meri?” Miriam asked. “Are you still mad at him?”
Nora smiled at her daughter. “No, darling, I’m not.” She wanted to get to him before she spoke to Johanna or turned him into the authorities.
The trip to Marley’s was done in silence. The duke lived in a mansion in Regent Park. There was the absence of city noise as the footmen with their umbrellas rushed them into the house.
The housekeeper took Miriam to wherever George was presently, and Garrick grabbed Nora’s hand and showed her into the drawing room.
She was surprised to find that more than just the Duke and Duchess of Astlen were present, but also everyone else. Kent and Lucy. James and Kim. Clive. Her brother was there. As was Lady Johanna. She had tears in her eyes, and Nora knew she was too late.
Johanna stood with the others as they entered and then she rushed into Nora’s arms. “I’m glad I know now.”
Nora embraced her friend but wished to know the truth herself.
Meri’s expression was somber. “That afternoon, I followed Lettie and pulled her hair in the same manner I’d done with your other blond friends, but she slipped and hit her head. I tried to get her up. She was still alive. Still breathing, but she wouldn’t wake up. So, I went and got Mama. Mama… she took Lettie away and told me to continue playing as though nothing happened. She made me vow never to speak of it.”
Nora frowned. “What did Mama do with Lettie?”
Meri shrugged. “To this day, I don’t know. A man came and took her away. I never saw her again and I only dared to ask Mama once. After that, she hardly spoke to me.”
“But, what about the other women in Germany? The ones who went missing?”
Meri frowned. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“There were women who went missing,” she said. “Blonde.”
“Germany is a big place. I had nothing to do with those women and at this point, I’ve no reason to lie.”
She believed him.
He closed his eyes. “I’m sorry about Lettie.”
His story made sense. Her parents had changed after that. Mama likely blamed herself for her son’s strange obsessions with blond hair.
“I’m sorry,” Nora told him.
Johanna straightened from Nora’s hold. “Do you think she still lives, my Lettie?”
It was unlikely.
Garrick moved closer. His hand was in his pocket. When he pulled it out, Lettie’s tiara was in his hand.
> Johanna took the jewel and began to weep over it all over again.
Lettie was gone. The woman who’d taken her away was gone as well, but at least Johanna had something from her sister.
Nora hated that she’d caused her friend so much pain. “If I could go back.”
“We can never go back.” Johanna sniffed and then she smiled. “Thank you for being my friend, Nora, for not abandoning me or Lettie.”
“I would never abandon you,” Nora told her.
A hand landed on Nora’s shoulder and she turned to find Selena standing there. Tears filled her eyes. “I understand now.”
Nora hugged her and the dam of her own tears broke. She clung to both Selena and Johanna for a long time and then saw Johanna to the door after her promise to visit soon.
Meri stepped forward. “This was my fault, and though I can’t prove Lettie’s death, I will take the blame of Lord Gregory’s death to spare your husband having to explain anything to the authorities.”
“Or have to answer to Lord Van Dero,” Kent said. His retribution was far scarier than the courts.
Nora touched her brother’s shoulder. “Thank you, Meri.”
“Anything for you, Rah Rah.”
Garrick shifted next to her and then placed a hand on her shoulder and said, “Thank you.”
Meri nodded and then said, “We better get our story straight and call the police.”
Before anyone could say another word, a footman arrived with a missive. From his uniform, Nora knew he didn’t work in any of the homes of the families represented.
Marley walked up to the footman, his expression cautious. The servant spoke before anyone else could. “Van Dero requires a response immediately.”
Marley opened the letter.
“What does it say?” Clive asked, moving closer.
Marley’s eyes widened. “It says that Lord Gregory was murdered by a thief and that none of us were present for his execution. The papers are set to announce it tomorrow.”
It was a lie, one that made Nora breathe easier. “Why would Van Dero choose to help any of us?”
“It’s likely so the police won’t ask any questions, like why we would actually want his son dead,” Kent said. “Van Dero is protecting himself, not us.”
Nora turned to her brother and then to the others. Would they decline the olive branch and force her brother to go to prison?
“Do we accept?” Marley asked.
“Yes,” Garrick said with force.
The room nodded in unison.
They accepted.
∫ ∫ ∫
epilogue
* * *
“I thought you’d tell him not to take the blame for me,” Garrick told Nora later that night as they lay in bed.
“It is not an easy situation.” Nora turned on her side to look at him. “But I understand why Lord Van Dero cannot know it was you who killed his son. There is a reason you’ve not... handled the duke as you did so many before him. He has something on you, doesn’t he?”
“Not me, but someone else.”
“And you can’t tell me what it is,” she said.
“It is not my secret to tell.” He wrapped an arm around her waist and dragged her and the sheet that covered her closer. “And I promise not to handle anyone else ever again.”
It was the best thing she’d heard all day. “Good.”
“Unless they are a threat to you.”
“Garrick—”
“Many believe that because I don’t speak, I am impotent. I will not allow anyone to threaten my family and get away with it.”
“But you are not impotent.”
He touched her cheek. “I was never as strong as you see me, but I will become that man now.”
She smiled then leaned up and kissed him. “I’m glad this mess is done.”
Garrick’s expression showed distress. “And we must hope Lord Van Dero doesn’t retaliate.”
“What happens if he does? He’s already lost his heir. I’m sure he feels as though he’s little else to lose with retaliation.”
Garrick said nothing.
Nora gasped. “His daughter. Tell me you won’t—”
“Let’s not discuss this now. For the moment, all is calm.” He moved and climbed over her. “Now is the time to focus on us.” His eyes turned dark.
Nora felt her body wake to his needs, but she tried to fight it. “No, Garrick, we need to discuss this.”
“What?” He kissed her. “I can’t understand you. I believe I’ve lost my hearing.”
She laughed over against his mouth. “That is not how your condition works.”
“I have a more pressing condition at the moment,” he growled.
She groaned. “You should stop talking now.” He was easier to handle before he could speak.
“I agree,” he whispered, but his tone told her his thoughts had gone somewhere else.
And then he took her there, to that place of complete euphoria and happiness, the place they’d built on love.
∫ ∫ ∫
Keep Reading
From: Deborah Wilson
To: Beloved Readers
Subject: Next book in the series
Hi lovelies!
Thank you for reading Wounds of A Viscount, which is book 08 in the Valiant Love series.
The next book is targeted to release on 17th June.
While waiting for the next breathtaking book in the series…
I believe you will love to read the previous book in the series, which I had such a good time writing it.
Flip the page for a special first look at the previous book.
Thank you for reading my books and letting me serve you doing what I love!
xx Love,
Deborah Wilson
Author of Valiant Love series
CHAPTER 01
Six Years Ago
London, England
March 1814
Selena slid her fingers over the pianoforte keys and dared to glance over at the group of women in her sitting room. He sat with them.
Marley Bing, the Duke of Astlen, was in her home.
Selena had never seen him this close or in such an intimate setting. From under her lashes, she watched him.
He was fully engaged in a discussion on the play that the theatre group that her mother and his mother belonged to had written.
He looked relaxed, but one corner of his mouth was lifted. It made her want to be the first to turn that hint of a smile to something full and bold. That was the sort of accomplishment that you’d tell your friends about for years to come but mention with great indifference in order hide just how thrilled you were, how much that moment had shaped your life and pleased you.
Not that Selena had any friends. She rarely allowed anyone close these days.
The women around her mother came alive like a horde of puppies who were basking in their master’s glow. Selena’s mother had introduced the duke to everyone on that side of the room but had completely forgotten Selena—too pleased that Astlen had come to concentrate on anything else.
Selena forgave her, for it gave Selena more time to stare at him.
He was beautiful.
His eyes were dark, reminding her of the night sky. The rest of his face was just as memorizing. Chiseled and hard, with a hint of gentleness that could be cultivated if he wished it. His hair was dark as well, but instead of the boyish curls that were in style, he styled it in waves like an untamed ocean.
She was startled when he finally looked at her.
“Oh, and that’s my daughter, Lady Selena.” Other mothers would have introduced their daughters first. The marriage market was a game that many a mama had mastered, but not Selena’s mother. She simply never learned to think as other mamas did. She was a patient and loving woman, believing all things would come in time.
Selena’s eyes caught the duke’s and held.
He stood and bowed. “Lady Selena.”
She rushed to her feet an
d curtseyed. “Your Grace.”
His gaze lowered, shifting down her body before returning to hers. There was something there, but in a blink, it was gone. He turned when Lady Ebba Blanc called him.
“Oh, Lord Astlen, we know you to be a patron of the arts with a fine eye,” young Lady Ebba said with a great amount of breath and the flutter of her lashes. “Surely, you thought our play was good. Better than good.”
The duke had his own theatre, Theater von Rosen, or Theatre of Roses. Most people called it The Rose. He was known to purchase manuscripts from the public, writers who didn’t work at the theatre. Though not a writer himself, he was fastidious about which plays graced his stage and bore his backing, almost to the point that people thought him captious. Yet at the end of the day, every play Marley had ever backed was a success.
Selena hadn’t known the women had sent off their manuscript. It didn’t even have a name yet. When her mother had first started holding the meetings for the Ladies of Theatre, it had been about nothing more than discussing the latest plays. Then, sometime last year, the women had decided to write a play.
Selena had thought it just a fun way to be occupied.
But then, a few weeks ago, they’d grown very serious about their play, fighting over names and characters, and especially the final scene. Should the love tale end in triumph or tragedy?
They’d decided triumph.
“I enjoyed it,” Marley said, giving Selena a final glance before retaking his seat. Selena took her own as he went on. “Though, I did have questions about the music. Perhaps you could play one song in particular? The last song.”
“Of course,” Selena’s mother said. “My daughter can play both piano and harp. She is musically gifted. We wrote the songs, but her playing truly brought them to life.” Again, Lady Dorshea did not say these things because she thought they were what Marley wished to hear but because she thought them true.
Selena wanted to duck her head, but she’d all but been invited to join the conversation.
She stared at Marley, and it seemed he’d waited until the last second to look over at her. His sharp dark eyes caught her in their snare. He had that look again. She felt caged. They commanded her attention and something else… something deeper. What was it?
Wounds of A Viscount: (The Valiant Love Regency Romance) (A Historical Romance Book) Page 29