If He's Dangerous

by Hannah Howell

  He is searching for that weak point, Lorelei realized. If her father expressed any affection for her, by word or deed, Cornick would use that to torment him. It did not look as if Cornick would get what he wanted, for her father was looking very ducal, right down to his stony, emotionless expression.

  “She is my child,” was all her father said in a cold voice.

  “Thinking we should be done with all this talking,” muttered Tucker.

  “Just another moment, Tucker. I am enjoying this. A duke and an arrogant Wherlocke at my mercy.” Keeping his gaze fixed unwaveringly on both men before him, Cornick kissed Lorelei’s cheek. “And a sweet woman in my arms. It is a moment to savor, one to place firmly in my memory so that I might relive it again from time to time as I spend His Grace’s money.”

  “Enough,” snapped Argus. “Take your blood money and release the lady.”

  “So impatient,” murmured Cornick and smiled as he pushed the knife a little deeper into Lorelei’s back.

  A scream surged up into her throat, but Lorelei swallowed it. Please, someone kill this man, she prayed silently, only a little shocked at her own bloodthirstiness. Pain spread throughout her body from the point where the knife dug into her flesh almost as quickly as the blood ran from the wound. At the speed she felt it running down from the wound, she would not be surprised if she were soon standing in a pool of it.

  The way her father was looking at her told Lorelei that he had guessed that Cornick was not being gentle with the knife he held on her, but she prayed he would believe it a minor nuisance since she neither moved nor cried out. She was not going to give her rescuers any reason to act rashly. They did not need anyone making an openly aggressive move, not with the pistols Cornick and Tucker held steadily aimed at the two men she loved most in the world, especially since she was certain those two men were hiding a pistol or two of their own. It would be a bloodbath.

  There was a grunt from the side, right where Tucker stood. Lorelei glanced toward him and watched as the man slowly lowered his pistol, a surprised look on his face. A moment later he sank to his knees.

  “Damn idiot,” he said to Cornick. “Your need to preen has done got me killed. Stupid sod.”

  He fell facedown in the dirt. In his back was a large knife. Both her father and Argus moved toward her, but Cornick tensed, his pistol aimed right at her father’s head. Lorelei softly moaned as that knife went deeper into her back and wondered why the one who had thrown the knife had not aimed for Cornick. She suspected there was a good reason but wanted his knife out of her back so much she doubted she would care to hear it.

  “You have lost this fight, Cornick,” said Argus. “We have men all round this place and two have rifles. You do not have a chance of getting out of here alive unless you put that pistol down now and release Lorelei.”

  She could almost smell the panic that had seized Cornick when Tucker had fallen. He was panting softly as he tried to think of a way to save himself. Lorelei knew when he had decided he could not, for he went very still. Fear crawled up her spine. Every instinct she had told her that Cornick did not intend to die alone.

  He could still shoot her father or he could finish shoving that knife into her back, and she did not much like either option. Lorelei wondered if she could move away from him now, but doubted that would save her. He could still kill either her or her father before she took more than a step or two.

  “I must say I am shocked that a duke of the realm would break his word,” said Cornick.

  “I did not give my word,” said the duke. “I believe I simply responded that I would meet with you. I do hope you did not kill the boy you used as you killed James.”

  “Of course not. The boy was no threat. I simply did not pay him as promised. Tucker kindly chased him away.” He glanced quickly at Lorelei, but the aim of his pistol did not waver. “I suppose that is another sin I should have atoned for.”

  “Yes,” came a deep voice from behind them that Lorelei recognized as Iago’s. “I fear your friend has already met the devil. Do you wish to or will you surrender?”

  “Surrender? Oh, yes, that is so tempting. Die now or wait for the hangman.”

  “Move the weapon,” began Iago.

  “And so I shall.”

  Lorelei did not have time to even think of what was coming. Cornick shoved the knife into her and then shot at Argus, who leapt out of the way the moment the man pulled the trigger. As she stood there, pain holding her rigid, several pistols fired at once. She wanted to see who had been hurt but could not move. A moment later she began to sink to the ground. She was on her knees and sliding onto her face when her father reached her.

  “Cornick?” she asked.

  “Quite dead. I think at least four of us shot him.”

  “Good.”

  “Oh, my poor Lolly, what has he done?”

  “I fear he may have killed me,” she said and let the blackness sweeping over her take her away from the pain.

  Chapter 18

  Argus rushed to Lorelei’s side just as the duke turned her over, tore her cloak off, and revealed the blood-soaked back of her gown. All the strength went out of him and he fell to his knees at her side. She had been stabbed, low on her back, and it was bleeding freely, too freely. Argus stared at the woman lying so still and pale on the ground and called himself a thousand kinds of a fool.

  This woman was his life. Knowing that such a loss of blood could be fatal, even if Cornick had not managed to damage anything vital, his mind was suddenly crowded with all he wanted and needed to say to her.

  “You knew,” he said to the duke, trying and failing to keep the tone of accusation out of his voice. “She told you.”

  “With that little display of Gaelic, yes, she did.” The duke almost smiled as he brushed the hair from Lorelei’s white face. “She told me that the bastard held a knife to her back. A little later I suspected he had used it, but only to cause her a little pain, not to kill her. That was foolish of me. He meant to kill us all right from the beginning. He certainly was not about to change his plans much when he knew he was doomed.”

  “He wanted to make certain you paid for his loss in some way,” said Stefan.

  “Can you help her?” asked Argus.

  “I can slow the bleeding,” Stefan said even as he knelt next to the duke. “I cannot close the wound when it is so large and deep. That will require a skilled surgeon.”

  “She will have one as soon as we can get her home,” said the duke. “If you can slow that cursed bleeding we have a chance.”

  Argus sat back and watched Stefan work. The duke caught the boy when he swayed the moment he finished. Argus moved forward to wrap a bandage around the wound. He could not believe that she had not made a sound, had acted as if all was fine so that they could deal with Cornick.

  “It is deep,” said Stefan as Iago and Leopold fed him with thick pieces of bread, cheese, and cider, obviously having come prepared in case anyone needed any healing. “I do not think anything inside of her is damaged, but I am still learning. I can ease bleeding, help with a fever, ease pain.” He shrugged. “If the doctor stitches her up, then I can help her regain her strength or ease a fever if she suffers one.”

  Before the duke could do so, Argus wrapped Lorelei in her cloak and picked her up. The duke looked as if he would protest for a moment, but then he just half smiled and shook his head. When Iago and Leopold returned with the horse, having sent a few of the men on ahead to fetch the doctor, Argus discovered that he did not want to let go of Lorelei. Finally recognizing that he would not be able to mount his horse with her still held securely in his arms, he gave her to the duke. He mounted quickly and then held out his arms, taking her into his as gently as he could. As soon as he was holding her again he had felt something ease inside of him.

  “Somehow we must ride swiftly yet not so fast that she is bounced around,” said the duke as he edged his mount up next to Argus’s. “We need to get her to the doctor quickly as the ride w
ill be long and could weaken her, but we need to do it gentle as otherwise the ride could be rough and Stefan says it could easily make her start bleeding again.”

  Argus glanced back at the bodies of Cornick and Tucker. “What about them? Personally, I would leave them for the carrion.”

  “As would I if only because of what they did to James. But, I am the magistrate and they must be brought in and everything done properly. Then they can rot for all I care. I will bring James home, too, so that he can be buried next to his wife on the chapel grounds.”

  “We have other healers, ones with more knowledge and experience,” said Argus, already thinking of the ones he could send out an urgent message to if needed.

  “So Stefan said. I hope we have no need of them.”

  The ride was long, each bump and sway alarming Argus. He checked on Lorelei’s wound each time she moved, but the bleeding did not start up again, not as badly as it had been back at the woodcutter’s cottage. By the time Sundun House came into view, Argus’s whole body ached from all his attempts to make certain Lorelei did not move, that she remained as still as possible in his arms.

  He allowed the duke to hold his daughter again, just for the time it took Argus to dismount and hand the reins of his mount to a stable boy. Once on the ground he quickly retrieved Lorelei. Argus knew he was behaving somewhat irrationally, but he feared that if he let her go, she would slip away from him.

  “Shot?” asked Olympia as she met him on the stairs and then helped him to Lorelei’s bedchamber.

  “Stabbed in the back,” he answered. “Cornick wanted someone to suffer when he realized he was losing.”

  “Bastard. He is dead, right?”

  “Very dead. We all shot him. The duke, Iago, Leopold, and me. Stefan had already put a knife in the back of Cornick’s henchman Tucker and brought him down.”

  It was not easy for Argus to let go of Lorelei when he reached her bed, either, and he was a little embarrassed about how his arms tightened around her at the mere thought of releasing her from his arms. He knew she had to have her wound tended to properly. Once he put her down on the bed, he left her in the care of Olympia and Vale, and rushed back to the gatehouse. He washed up, changed his clothes, and packed a few things because he had no intention of leaving Sundun House and Lorelei until he was certain that she was healing as she should be.

  Then he had some traveling to do, and some work. He needed to report in to the man he worked for in the government, for Cornick was, after all, one of their men. After that he had a great many matters to settle and arrange before he could set his feet on the path he now wanted to travel.

  “I think the boy has had an epiphany,” murmured Max as he and the duke stood in the doorway of the front parlor and watched Argus run up the stairs, bag in hand.

  “He could not let go of her and that had to be a very uncomfortable ride home for him,” said the duke. “I do not recall inviting him to move in.”

  “He is not leaving our Lolly’s side until he sees that she is well again.”

  “You really think he will stay with her now, that this is not just a natural concern for someone he lusts after and likes? I know my Lorelei. She needs him to belong to her and her to him. She needs a good marriage of companionship, lusting, and loyalty. And she truly needs to be loved,” he added quietly. “Lolly thrives with love.”

  “He does, Your Grace. What I saw when he first brought her in the door, poor child all limp and bloodied, was a man terrified of losing someone. A man does not look that afraid unless his heart is caught and held tight. I suspect he had a moment when all he could think of were the things he wanted to say to her and might never be able to now.”

  “Lorelei will be all right,” the duke said, his voice a little sharpened by fear.

  Max patted his lifelong friend on the back. “I know. I believe she will be. She is young and strong.”

  “She will be better,” said Olwen as he walked up to the men.

  “Have you seen that, young man?” asked the duke.

  “I have. She will be very sick, and it will be frightening, but then she will get all better.”

  “I am pleased you came here to tell me that,” said the duke.

  “I did not want you to worry, especially since you have been very good to us all.”

  “And now I shan’t worry. Tell me, young Olwen, do you play chess?”

  “Aye, Your Grace, I do.”

  Roland wrapped his arm around the boy’s shoulders and smiled at him. “Shall we play a game then?” When the boy nodded, the duke started into the library, calling to Max over his shoulder, “A bit to eat and drink, if you please, and send the doctor to me when he is done examining Lorelei.”

  Argus confronted the doctor the moment the man stepped out of Lorelei’s bedchamber.

  “How is she?”

  “I was just headed to speak to the duke,” the doctor began.

  “Speak to me first so that I may go and sit with her. I am the one who carried her all the way here and need to know that she suffered no further injury.”

  The doctor hesitated a moment and then began, “Whoever stuck her with that knife was either poorly trained with a knife or so well trained he knew exactly where to put it to cause the least amount of damage possible. As far as I can see, nothing on the inside of her was damaged. Bruised a little, but not hurt. She will heal with only a small scar and she needs to rest as much as she can. No heavy foods and plenty to drink. Just watch closely for a fever although Lady Olympia says she can care for that if it comes.”

  After assuring the doctor that she would be well cared for and he would be called immediately if needed, Argus watched the doctor go down the stairs and then headed for Lorelei’s bedchamber. He was a little afraid that the duke would corner him and ask him what he thought he was doing. He and Lorelei were not formally betrothed, yet here he was, in her bedchamber, set to care for her. And he had moved into the house without being invited.

  He entered the bedchamber and walked straight to the side of the bed. Lorelei looked so small in the huge bed, her skin so pale it nearly matched the linens. She was settled on her side with pillows at her back to stop her from rolling onto her newly stitched wounds. Argus reached to gently stroke her hair.

  “She will recover, Argus,” Olympia said as she stood up.

  “Did you have a knowing?” he asked as he took the seat by the bed that she had just left.

  “Olwen did and hurried up here thinking you might be here. Watch her closely though, for the boy did think she would get very sick before she fully recovers. I told him I would tell you, and then he ran off to tell the duke.”

  “That will ease the man’s mind. He was very concerned. I think his Lolly is one of his favorites. It is not because she is his only daughter, either, as he has three others.”

  “I saw a portrait of his second wife, the one he was happy with, and she looks a lot like the woman, especially that dark red hair. But, I also think they think alike in some ways and she has become mother to many of the boys.”

  “Are you trying to warn me about something?”

  “Mayhap. She is well loved in this house. Just be careful. Now, I am off to get some rest.” Olympia kissed him on the cheek, picked up the book she had been reading, and left.

  Argus frowned down at Lorelei after the door shut behind Olympia. He knew he was overstepping his bounds by miles, but he had not been secretive about that. If the duke did not like it, Argus knew the man would be right there, telling him ever so nicely to leave. He hoped the man did not do that, for he really did not wish to get in an argument with the Duke of Sundunmoor. Argus had no intention of leaving Lorelei’s side, except to preserve her modesty, until he knew she was safe and healthy.

  He sat forward and brushed his fingers over her forehead. She had been through an ordeal and that could easily have weakened her as much as the wound itself. The long ride home had surely sapped what strength she had as well. Argus thought all that added up to goo
d odds that she could take a fever, and fevers had killed too many people. His family had been right. He had been about to toss away the best for some twisted idea about cursed marriages.

  It was difficult to admit one had been an utter fool, but he did it. He had clung to his belief that marriage to a Wherlocke or Vaughn was much akin to having a curse put on your family. There was no question that his childhood had been miserable, mostly due to his parents’ even more miserable marriage. Unfortunately, he had clung to that image of marriage as if it were the only truth instead of looking closely at everything else that was wrong in that marriage.

  One of the first and foremost things wrong with his father’s marriage was his mother. She had been spoiled, had expected balls, gowns, and a man who would spend hours just telling her how beautiful she was. His father was the second thing wrong because he had married the woman when he had to have guessed at least some of what she was like before he had even proposed. It did not change the fact that his mother had hated and feared the gifts that ran rampant through the whole family. That was something his father should have put to the test before he had put a ring on her finger.

  Argus now wondered if too many of his forefathers, and mothers, had never put their spouse to the test before the marriage. Many may have continued to try and keep everything a secret for fear of being told no when they proposed or the fear of never being asked, of dying a spinster. It made an odd sort of sense. It was why so many of the children born on the wrong side of the blanket ended up tossed out. A man did not tell his mistress everything about himself, certainly not something the family was trying to keep as secret as possible, yet when a child was born of the relationship, those gifts could not be hidden from a mother.

  It was not a curse upon the Wherlockes or the Vaughns; it was bad choices, secrets, and attempting to hide amongst the people who had no strange gifts as if you were really one of them. Argus shook his head. There were a few good marriages in the clan amongst the previous generation, and he would be willing to bet that it came about in part because the truth was told before the vows were taken.