If He's Dangerous

by Hannah Howell

  “You fought him hard,” she murmured, almost able to read the story of the struggle in the bruises and scrapes that peppered the rest of Olympia’s body.

  “As hard as I could,” said Olympia, accepting Lorelei’s help in leaning back against the side of the tub so that Lorelei could wash her hair. “I knew that if he took me away from that place, it would be hard for me to get back. Not only would I be a prisoner, if they did not kill me first, but I would then become a weapon that could be used against Argus.”

  “As a threat, perhaps a trade.”

  “Exactly. And do not forget, I am now all too aware of how they treat the ones caught in their grasp.”

  Lorelei shuddered and concentrated on washing Olympia’s hair. It was not spoken aloud, but they both knew that it would not only have been their fists those men used to hurt Olympia. What they had done to Argus was appalling enough. Lorelei did not even want to try to imagine what they would have done to Olympia.

  By the time she helped Olympia out of the bath, after gently rubbing and brushing the woman’s hair until it was more dry than wet while she soaked in the healing warmth of the water, the woman was as pale as the fine linen cloth Lorelei used to help her dry off. She then grabbed the soft nightdress and thick robe the maids had set out. Getting her dressed obviously took the last of Olympia’s impressive strength and Lorelei feared she would collapse completely before they reached the bedchamber only feet away.

  “Argus,” she called and ignored the way Olympia half opened one eye to stare at her over the familiarity of using Argus’s Christian name. It was not a look of insult, however, but one of calculation, and that made Lorelei a little nervous.

  It did not surprise Lorelei when Argus immediately appeared. She had suspected that he would lurk close by. His concern for his sister was heart-renchingly real and ran deep. He ignored Olympia’s muttered complaints and picked her up, carrying her back to her bed. Within moments of being tucked in and forced to drink the herb-strengthened cider Lorelei hastily mixed for her, Olympia was asleep.

  “She will be in pain for a few days, but at least she was not taken away,” Lorelei said as she studied the dark look on Argus’s face.

  “These are my enemies and my fight,” he said in a voice that was little more than a growl, filled with such anger that Lorelei suspected he could kill those men with his bare hands if they were in reach. “She should not have been injured by this, should not have become involved.”

  Lorelei lightly stroked his arm, the tightness of his muscles telling her that he was eager to bring the men to justice, to make them pay for what they were doing to his family. “She had to be involved. She is your sister. You would not let her fight alone. You would not sit at home if she disappeared without word for a fortnight.”

  “Nor would you, if it was one of your siblings. Right?”

  “Precisely right. I love them. How could I not do all that was in my meager power to help them?”

  “Exactly what Olympia would say, although she would probably not mention the love so easily as she likes all to think her a hard, fierce woman.”

  He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to force the worst of his fury out of his heart and mind, and then he looked at Lorelei. Her gaze held both understanding and sympathy. He needed both at the moment or he would run out of the gatehouse in some vain attempt to hunt the men down, not stopping until he was dead by their hand or from exhaustion. His anger would make him reckless and that would be dangerous. His work for the government had taught him that being slow, precise, and cautious was often the best way to defeat an enemy, and survive the encounter.

  “And it is really not just my battle anymore,” he said as he gave into temptation and pulled her into his arms, letting her softness ease his spirit. “I was but the first they went after.”

  She hugged him, rather enjoying the warm but not passionate embrace. “And you are all certain that they will go after others if this is not stopped now.”

  “Very certain. In their eyes, mine was but the gift they thought they could best use of and so they wanted me first. I may not have given them what they wanted, but I doubt it has made them believe that they cannot take such gifts from us so they will try again. My biggest fear is that they may decide to try their vicious games with the weaker ones of our clan, the women and children.”

  “You will stop them.”

  “Such confidence in me.”

  He smiled at her and kissed her but made it a soft and gentle one. Argus knew he would like nothing better than to lose himself in her kisses, in her body, for a while. It was not only all the other reasons why he should not touch her that kept him in control but the fact that this was a poor place and time to give into his needs. Not that he had been all that careful about time and place before, he thought wryly.

  “Max said you can show me how to mix that herbal potion you were so fond of giving me,” he said as he stepped back.

  Recognizing the end to the moment of comforting and sympathy, Lorelei nodded. She led him down to the kitchens and carefully instructed him on how to mix the herbs into the cider. As soon as she was sure he knew what he was doing, she took her leave. He was consumed by concern for his sister and she had already done all she could to help him with that. Now he needed time to wrestle his fury and grief under control, and that was something he had to do by himself.

  Argus was sitting at Olympia’s bedside watching her sleep when he heard the others return. He stood up, brushed a kiss over her forehead, and went downstairs to meet them. When he reached the bottom of the stairs he suddenly recalled how Lorelei had always kissed his forehead when she thought him asleep. Did that show that she cared for him, that she had done so from the beginning? And why did that possibility thrill him so very much when he was determined to keep her at a distance? He shook away the thoughts, promising himself he would consider it all later, and went to meet with his cousins.

  “The bastard got away,” he said as he took one look at his cousins, saw the disappointment on their weary faces. He went to get a drink of the brandy they were all savoring.

  “He did,” replied Bened. “Even I lost the trail, which, as you well know, rarely happens. Have to wonder if the bastard has a little gift of his own that he just does not know about. He is certainly cunning. He took the chance of being seen by crossing roads so the horses of others might hide his trail, somehow managed to stop the bleeding so that trail ended quickly, and even used the river to hide his trail. I cannot even say if I have an idea of the area they are in, for he could have easily turned round and come back this way.”

  “Not good news except that it offers us some explanation as to why we are having so much difficulty in finding them,” said Argus.

  “How is Olympia?” asked Leopold.

  Argus gave them a full report on her condition and saw the relief in their faces. “The worst of it is that she is not injured so badly that she will be abed for days. Do not get me wrong, I would not wish a serious injury upon my sister, but one might keep her from getting into any more trouble while we hunt these bastards down.” The muttering of agreement from the men pleased him.

  “Idiot. I ought to let you bleed to death,” snapped Charles as he bandaged Tucker’s arm, ignoring the man’s soft curses as he inflicted as much pain as he could. He had done the same while digging out the bullet.

  “I just happened on them,” Tucker said. “Thought that you getting one of them would ease the way with your boss.”

  “You know nothing about my boss. He wants Sir Argus.”

  Charles walked over to the battered table that held his brandy. The place where they cowered was little more than a hovel, but he had made sure he had the important things with him as he waited to get Sir Argus back. It had only taken one exchange of letters for him to understand he had few choices. Either he got Sir Argus back or he ran, as far and as fast as he could. Since he did not have the money to make a reasonably comfortable exile, Charles had decided that
he would get Sir Argus back.

  “You said you were sure she was family?” he asked Tucker.

  “Had the look.”

  “Obviously the others have begun to gather ’round him.”

  “Then why not grab one of them, one that ain’t so damned hard to hold on to or break. Bet we coulda broken that fine woman easy enough.”

  “What did she look like?”

  “Like him a mite. Big woman. Tall and strong with all that black hair.”

  “So speaks a man whose thoughts do not rise above his waist. It sounds as if it was his sister so she may have been useful as a way to bring him into our hands.”

  “Maybe one of the other ones. I be betting that the woman will not be coming near enough to grab now.”

  “No, they will keep her close. You saw the other ones?”

  “Aye, damn fools trailed me for hours. One big fellow seemed to be able to find my trail no matter what I did.” He described the men who had chased him for hours.

  “One of them sounds like Lord Sir Leopold Wherlocke.” Charles spit out a string of curses. “This mire we have fallen into just gets deeper and deeper.”

  “’Course we could grab us the little lady what keeps trotting over to where the bastard is hiding.”

  “You know where they are hiding? Did you not think I would like to know?”

  “Thought you did and that’s why we was here.”

  “We followed what little trail we could find. All that told us was that someone had come here from Dunn Manor. That was the only place I was certain of, although that old man was no help. But you have actually seen where they are?”

  Tucker nodded and scratched his stomach. “Know that place you called a demmed palace? That duke’s place?”

  “Please, do not tell me he is in the duke’s home.”

  “Not exactly. He is in a house down the end of that long road leading to the duke’s palace. I took me a wrong turn and found meself riding too close to that place, but afore I was in full retreat, saw me a pretty little thing with fine red hair meeting our boy at the door. Thinking they are close.”

  “Red hair, did you say? Did she have a very fine arse?”

  “Very fine. Ah, you thinking she is the one you saw?”

  “The duke and Squire Dunn are related. And close. We followed Sir Argus from there to here. There is only one daughter left at home. Of course, it could have been a maid.”

  “Not in them clothes.”

  “I must think about this. Do you think we could get close enough so that I might see this gatehouse? See Wherlocke for myself?”

  “They have a lot of guards, lot of servants, and workers, but I think I can get you close. Have to be watchful for the men hunting us though.”

  “I just need to see that he is there, mayhap see the woman if I am lucky, and then we can return to hiding here while I plan a way to entrap him.”

  “It be a risky thing, but think I can get you there long enough for that.”

  Charles felt the first stirring of hope since he had found Sir Argus gone. The path that led them here had been one mapped with rumor, suspicion, and very little fact, but the trouble they had had since then confirmed his opinion that Sir Argus was here. It was risky to snatch a duke’s daughter, but, even if she and Sir Argus were not close, the man would do anything Charles wanted to get her safely back to her father. There was a chance, a very small chance, that he might yet come out of this mess with his life and a full purse.

  Chapter 11

  After a brief visit with Olympia, who was already on her feet after only one night, Lorelei collected her sketching supplies. She intended to spend time at her favorite spot in the apple orchard. It was one of the few places where she could find some peace, as the children rarely went there. Even Gregor Three would have finished his daily inspection of his precious trees. For just a little while she wanted to be completely alone with her thoughts at a time of the day when her mind was at its sharpest, and sketching often helped her to think.

  She settled herself comfortably beneath a tree at the farthest end of the orchard, where there was a cluster of trees that shielded her from view unless one walked too close to them. Gregor Three constantly bemoaned the wild growth of the trees, but he did nothing to change them. The trees were no longer producing a great quantity of fruit, but Lorelei was of the opinion that the apples from these trees were the sweetest.

  As she began to sketch she was not surprised to see Argus’s face begin to appear on the paper. She thought of him all the time. At night in her bed she could feel the heat of his hands on her body, taste his kiss on her lips. Despite how he kept pushing her away, she knew they were getting closer to becoming lovers. Each time he kissed her, touched her, the passion between them flared hotter and it took him longer to come to his senses, to recall that he needed to push her away. It was a maddening dance he had pulled her into.

  Lorelei knew she had to decide whether or not she would become his lover. She needed to make that decision when her blood was not running hot and her mind was not clouded from the power of his kiss. Taking a lover was not something that should be done lightly or in the blind heat of passion, not when one was the maiden daughter of a duke. Most men insisted on their wives being untouched when they first took them into the marital bed.

  She would be gambling her future on the hope that Argus’s desire for her could become love, that it already ran deeper than a man’s normal need for a woman, any woman. The question was, could she trust her own judgment? It was not something she had any great experience in. Once her maidenhead was gone, there was no retrieving it just because the man she chose did not want to get married, or could not love her as she loved him.

  And she did love him. He was firmly entrenched in her heart, mind, and soul. Sir Argus Wherlocke was the man she wanted at her side for all the days she had left in her life. She wanted to have his children. If he left her, returned to his old life once his enemies were defeated, she knew her heart would always ache for him. She would probably turn into Dear Aunt Lolly the Spinster within a very short time.

  She studied the picture she had drawn and sighed, a new tendency that was beginning to annoy her. Argus’s face stared back at her with that heated look of desire she so loved to see in his eyes. A man like that was worth any gamble, she thought. So was his love and that was the prize she sought. If nothing else, she mused, if I become his lover and he still leaves me, I will still have some very fine memories to cling to as I do my tatting.

  Argus strode through the orchard and tried not to feel guilty for leaving Olympia alone. He had returned early from the daily search of the duke’s lands to see how his sister was faring and to keep her company. She very pithily, and somewhat profanely, told him she ached all over and to go away. Olympia was not a good patient. He grinned. She was, in truth, bad-tempered and foul-mouthed. He suspected he had had the ill luck to arrive just after she had tried to do something that had made every bruise scream in pain and he knew her poor bruised face was part of that. After what he had been through he found it easy enough to sympathize.

  It felt good to take a brisk walk in the sun. Too much sitting and riding were not good and had caused some of his healing injuries to ache enough to remind him that they were not fully healed yet. Argus had always believed that a walk was also the perfect way to sort out one’s thoughts. That or talking the problem out with someone he trusted. Unfortunately, aside from catching Cornick, the matter that preyed most on his mind was what to do with Lorelei. He was not inclined to discuss that with anyone.

  He ached for her, dreamed about making love to her, and could not keep his hands off her. She smiled and his heart skipped like some untried, infatuated boy’s. If he was not careful he would begin sighing like some lovelorn maiden. Or making sheep’s eyes at her like her young cousin made at Iago. The mere thought of that fate made him shudder.

  Last evening he had considered going into the village to relieve the lust twisting up his insides. The gir
l serving ale at the tavern there had made it very clear that she was more than willing to serve him in a more intimate way, and he was sure she had the experience to sate a man’s desires. Of course, she had blessed Iago, Leopold, Wynn, and Todd with the same come-hither look. It was not that which had made him shake away the thought, however. He had not only been reluctant to go, but had experienced a sense of guilt as if he would be betraying Lorelei if he even considered touching another woman. That had scared the lust right out of him.

  “Dangerous,” he muttered.

  He had exchanged no promises with Lorelei. The kisses they had shared might linger sweetly on his mouth, keeping him constantly randy, but they meant nothing. They certainly never had before with any other woman. Yet, he knew his mind and heart had balked at the mere idea of touching another woman because both were lashed to her like a man tied to the ship’s mast in a storm. That made his rational self want to get as far away from Lorelei as he could, as fast as he could, but he was discovering that he was not his usual rational self when it came to Lorelei.

  “Most assuredly dangerous.”

  “What is most assuredly dangerous?”

  It was only the sound of a voice so close at hand when he had thought himself alone that startled Argus, for that musical voice emerging from the trees was already achingly familiar to him. He looked around and finally caught sight of a small foot shod in a red slipper sticking out from under a tree. Stepping into the thick cluster of apple trees, he found Lorelei sitting on the ground, her sketchbook resting on her lap.

  “It is dangerous for any of us to be out alone,” he said and, despite the warning from his rational side, he sat down beside her as she quickly closed her sketchbook. “Poor Olympia is clear proof that my enemies are close at hand.”