He stared into her eyes so intensely that she felt her knees grow weak. For a moment she stood, dreading his decision. Then he cursed and reached down, sweeping her into the saddle in front of him, his arms locked with fierce possessiveness around her.
“South of the city, Captain Trelawny?” he shouted to Oliver, sharply veering his mount in the direction of Plymouth.
“Ais, my lord, an’ well away from those damned warships!” came the hearty response in a thick Cornish accent. “God grant ‘ee be there before dawn, or I fear, for the sake of all aboard, we’ll have to leave you!”
***
Lindsay could still hear Oliver’s warning ringing in her ears. But there was no time to think as Jared headed their exhausted horse into a dark alley.
“We’ll make it back in time,” she repeated to herself in a fervent whispered prayer, the joy she felt in Jared’s arms more profound than anything she had ever known. Yet she couldn’t deny his embrace had grown more tense with each passing moment as they approached Plymouth at a hard gallop. Now, as he gave another low curse, a mail coach rumbling down the street a sign that the city was already rousing itself, she knew he regretted bringing her with him.
Undaunted, she slid from the saddle before he could dismount, and spoke up before he could utter a word of what she sensed he wanted to say. “No, Jared, I’m not staying here. We’ll face Sylvia together—”
“Woman…”
He had dropped down beside her, but Lindsay sidestepped him, her heart pounding as she threw her hood over her hair and hurried toward the street. If he saw her urgency, that there was no time--
His hand suddenly catching her arm made her gasp. Jared drew her against him just before she could step out of the alley.
“Damnation, Lindsay, then stay close to me!” She nodded, a lump forming in her throat at how hard his expression had become as shown in the lamplight. She knew he was thinking of Sylvia and Ryland Potter.
They moved together out into the deserted street, the palpable tension in his body growing. He grasped her fingers so tightly she winced, but she said nothing, even when they drew closer to the town square and her hand had gone numb. It seemed that they both spied the sign for the Three Maidens Inn at the same time, Jared reaching for his pistol. Yet he appeared to come to some other decision, and handed the weapon to her.
“Hide the pistol under your cloak, but be ready if I’ve need of it.”
She nodded, apprehension filling her that light shone from the inn’s street-level windows. Her anxiety only grew when they entered the establishment, but to her relief, the main room was empty except for a sleepy-eyed serving girl, wiping down tables, who looked up and shrugged at them apologetically.
“Sorry, we’ve no rooms. Inn’s full.”
“Not a room. We’ve come to see my aunt, Mrs. Potter—Sylvia Potter.” Lindsay had spoken up before Jared could say a word. “We only just heard she was here and came to Plymouth straightaway.”
“Aye, poor woman, she’s upstairs. I’ll show you the way, but you’ll have to speak with the guard—”
“No, no, we’ll manage. You just go on with your work.”
Holding her breath as the girl gave another shrug and went back to her cleaning, Lindsay glanced at Jared, but he was already moving to the stairs. As she caught up with him, he gestured for the pistol, which only made her heartbeat race. Oh, Lord…
With the wooden stairs squeaking, it was impossible to be quiet, but that sound seemed nothing compared with the rumbling snores emanating from the guard slumped asleep in a chair at the far end of the dimly lit hall.
“Stay here, Lindsay.”
She froze at Jared’s terse whisper, the lump in her throat nearly choking her when he moved stealthily toward the guard; she closed her eyes tight as he lifted the butt of the pistol, the man’s snores suddenly silenced. Oh, Lord…
Jared was already opening the door to the room nearest the unconscious guard by the time Lindsay grabbed the oil lamp from the hall table and reached him, his broad shoulders taut with tension, his expression less hard now than tortured. Imagining his thoughts, she wanted so badly to say something to him, to let him know that she understood, but he moved so quickly to the bed that she could but turn to close the door behind them. Then a startled gasp filled the room.
Lindsay spun around, her eyes widening in horror to see Jared’s hand clamped over Sylvia Potter’s mouth, the pistol pressed to the woman’s temple.
Chapter 35
Fearing he might slay Sylvia right there in her bed, Lindsay set down the lamp and ran to him. The older woman’s wild eyes upon her gave her chills.
“Jared, no…”
“Damn her, Lindsay. Damn her.”
His voice so choked that Lindsay felt tears burn her eyes, she gently covered his hand gripping the pistol with her own and shook her head.
“Jared, this isn’t the answer—it can’t be. Ask her about Ryland and then we’ll leave. We’ll leave England and never come back, both of us, together… Please, Jared.”
He didn’t answer for so long she wondered if he had heard her, his face so full of hatred that it frightened her. Then, slowly, he lowered his hand from Sylvia’s mouth, although he didn’t remove the pistol.
“Where’s Ryland, woman? Damn you, where is he?”
“Gone! Gone away!” A shriek of such maniacal laughter burst from Sylvia that Lindsay could only stare in shock as a stream of frothy spittle foamed at the corner of the woman’s mouth.
“Dead, dead and gone away—oh, God, my Ryland! My son, my beloved Ryland!”
Now Jared lowered the pistol, looking as stunned as Lindsay felt, while Sylvia clutched her knees and began to rock herself, tears tumbling down her lined cheeks. At first she seemed only to mumble incoherently to herself; then she suddenly fixed a look of pure hatred upon Jared.
“You killed my son! Chased us away to Lisbon—not our home, not Dovercourt Manor. We were going to come back, find you, but cholera came and took him away—he’s gone! My Ryland is gone! He was to be the master of Dovercourt, not you, not Alistair!” Another burst of laughter bubbled up from the woman’s throat as she grinned almost gleefully from ear to ear. “We killed your uncle, you know, Ryland and me, like your parents—oh, my, and stupid Elise. How she wept for you, stupid girl! Ryland wanted another wife, a new wife, so he beat her and beat her—”
“Damn you, woman, enough!”
Sylvia had started at Jared’s tortured cry, then began to rock herself again and pluck mindlessly at her dark, tangled hair.
Jared turned from the bed. “God help me, no more… no more.”
His voice had become a hoarse whisper, and Lindsay felt a shiver at how drained he appeared, older, his face ashen. Her heart aching for him, she went to his side, settling her hand gently in the crook of his arm.
“Jared, we should go. It’s nearing dawn—look.”
He followed her gaze to the window, pale light creeping beneath the shade; relief filled her that he seemed to bolster himself before her eyes. He glanced back at Sylvia, sighing raggedly as he shook his head.
“Maybe there’s some justice after all.”
Lindsay nodded, unable to speak as Jared met her eyes and then drew her into his arms, hugging her as if he would never let her go. But he did release her a breathless moment later, growing tense again when they moved to the door.
She sensed at once what lay upon his mind, that someone might have overheard their exchange with Sylvia, but the inn was quiet, the guard still slumped in his chair. Lindsay swallowed hard, Jared squeezing her hand as they moved quickly down the hall.
“Don’t worry about him. He’ll have a headache and a good-size lump to show for ignoring his duty, but he’ll survive—”
“Damn you, Jared Giles!”
He turned, his heart lurching as Sylvia shakily aimed a pistol she must have taken from the guard, the report exploding before he had a chance to pull his weapon from his belt. He heard Lindsay’s gasp a
nd glanced behind him in horror to see her begin to crumple; he lunged to catch her in his arms before she struck the floor.
“Lindsay!”
Blood streaked the left side of her head, and he was so stricken that for a moment he lost all thought of what to do. Doors being yanked open around him finally gave him the impetus to move. His eyes stinging, he bolted down the stairs clutching Lindsay to his heart, past the astonished serving girl, who shrieked in terror, and charged blindly into the street.
“Oh, God, Lindsay…” His jagged breath tearing at his throat, he barely dodged in time a carriage traveling through the town square, the coachman shouting out crude obscenities that Jared didn’t hear. His blood thundering in his ears, he didn’t slow his desperate pace until he had reached the alley, Lindsay so horribly limp in his arms, a slash of scarlet staining her blond hair…
Damn him for a fool how could he have brought her with him? He’d known the danger! Yet he knew, as he hoisted himself into the saddle with her, the bay stallion snorting skittishly, that he couldn’t have denied her anything for the way she had looked so pleadingly into his eyes. With Lindsay’s head lolling helplessly against his shoulder, he kicked the steed into a gallop, his only burning thought to find the Fair Betty.
***
“Do you see them, Oliver? Do you see anything?”
Growing more anxious as her old friend shook his head, Corisande glanced at the brightening sky and then at Donovan, who stood silently beside her at the starboard railing. He was so grim that she felt her heart sink into her shoes, but she wouldn’t allow herself to believe that something terrible had happened to Lindsay and Jared. She wouldn’t!
“Corie girl, I hate to tell ‘ee, but we can’t tarry here much longer,” Oliver Trelawny said without lowering the spyglass, still scanning the wharf, where a half-dozen warships were berthed. “It’s too dangerous for all concerned, I know ‘ee can understand. An’ even if we miss them, Lindsay’s a clever girl just like you, she’ll think of a way—Lord help us, what the devil?”
“What is it, Oliver, what?” cried Corisande, wishing she had a spyglass, too, so she might see…
“It’s Lord Giles—there, in that longboat, but I don’t see Lindsay… unless…”
Oliver’s vehement curse made Corisande blanch.
“Ais, she’s in the boat, too, but something’s wrong, Corie. Lord Giles has her lying in the stern, an’ she’s not moving at all—”
“Oh, Donovan, no.” Grateful for her husband’s strong arms suddenly around her, Corisande buried her face against his shoulder, praying for strength. Not Lindsay, please… not her beautiful, indomitable friend, who deserved some happiness more than anyone she knew…
“Lord, now what’s all the commotion on the wharf?”
Oliver’s puzzled query making her leave the warm comfort of Donovan’s embrace, Corisande gasped when a thunderous burst of cannon fire sounded from the direction of the H.M.S. Clementine, towering plumes of water erupting all around the approaching longboat.
“Those bastards are firing on him!” Gripping the railing, Corisande had never felt so frantic. “Dear God, they must have heard about the escape and Captain Billingsley. Oliver, we’ve got to do something—anything! We can’t just sit here and watch them be blown to bits!”
“Corie, we’re out of range here.” Donovan answered for the burly captain, who looked at Corisande helplessly. “We’d be fools to venture any closer. Jared’s rowing hard—”
He broke off and strode so abruptly toward the prow that Corisande watched him in surprise, realizing his intent only when he called for one of the Fair Betty’s own galleys to be lowered. Her heart overflowing that he would be willing to help Jared even now, she ran to him as eight of Jared’s crew stepped forward to join him, including a man with hair as raven-black as her husband’s.
She had only an instant to hug Donovan and then he was gone, over the side with the others. Corisande rushed back to Oliver as the galley surged powerfully through the choppy waves toward the longboat that still seemed so far away. It was torture to watch, especially when another explosive round came so close again to hitting Jared and Lindsay that Corisande once more began to pray.
She didn’t stop praying even when the two boats finally met, her stomach knotting as she saw Lindsay handed over first before Jared joined them, her fear for her dearest friend mounting. But her fervent prayers didn’t prevent her from cursing like a sailor when, mere moments later, the empty longboat was blown to splinters; her stricken gaze was now fixed steadfastly upon Donovan.
She prayed all the harder while Oliver bellowed to his crew to unfurl the last of the sails and to lend a hand getting the heavily loaded galley back aboard. Corisande was there waiting as Jared was the first to disembark his face haggard, his eyes as haunted as she’d seen in any man when he turned to face her with Lindsay limp and ashen in his arms.
“Corie, please, my wife…”
Her gaze only for an instant straying to the dried blood matting Lindsay’s hair, she swallowed hard and nodded. “Oliver’s cabin, Jared. Let’s take her there.”
***
It wasn’t so much the dull throbbing in her head that made Lindsay open her eyes, but that she heard someone coaxing her to, a low, husky voice that filled her with comforting warmth. Yet she panicked, crying out when at first it seemed she couldn’t focus, everything appearing strangely blurred to her… until the same baritone quietly told her to give herself a few moments, she wasn’t alone, she had no need to worry.
She closed her eyes and relaxed, someone soothingly rubbing her fingers, the sensation filling her with peace. Yet the voice came back again, gently urging her to look around her once more, to see if there was anything she recognized, anyone she knew.
Her vision was not so blurred this time; with each blink it grew more focused, sharper, until a face began to take shape and form in front of her… a handsome, beloved face.
“Jared…”
Her voice sounded so strange and hoarse, but her single word elicited a soft ripple of laughter from other dear faces she gradually recognized: Corisande and Donovan; Oliver Trelawny; Walker Burke and Cowan and Cooky, too. But once more her gaze moved as if drawn by some inexplicable force to the man who held her hand firmly locked in his own, a wetness in his eyes that she knew she had seen there before.
“Oh, Jared, what happened?”
“Shhh, Lindsay, you needn’t try to talk too much,” he said, his voice nearly as hoarse as hers. “I feared I had lost you, but Corie was quick to assure me you’d only been grazed… much like what happened to your arm. If any of us has proved to be immortal–”
His voice seemed to catch and he fell poignantly silent, his grasp on her fingers growing all the tighter. Suddenly her throat felt tight, too, and she lifted her other hand to touch his face, just to know that he was truly real, the moment real. But what convinced her was the fierce intensity in his vivid blue eyes, making her breath stop, and the words he bent his head to whisper for her ears alone.
“I love you, Lindsay. Love you…”
She had never known her heart to feel so full, but when a shadow seemed to pass over Jared’s face, she felt a moment’s panic. “Jared…?”
“I’ve nothing to give you, Lindsay, no house, no beautiful clothes, nothing that you deserve—”
“But you’ve given me everything, Jared. Everything I could ever want. What else could I need?”
His expression appeared to lighten, a tender smile upon his face as he bent closer and kissed her, but not for as long as she might have wanted. Corisande clearing her throat made Jared lift his head, Lindsay’s gaze flying to her friend, who gave a small shrug and glanced with mischief in her eyes at Oliver Trelawny.
“Hmm, if there’s nothing else they need, I don’t know what we’re to do with all that gold Lindsay’s father entrusted to us, do you, Oliver?”
“Well, I suppose we could put it to good use, but didn’t Sir Randolph say something about tel
ling Lord Giles that his daughter had always wanted to see the world?”
“Yes, I believe he did—something about America, too. Now there’s a big place—so big, I’ve heard, that you can become lost in it. And we’re already planning to leave them in Roscoff, where they might find a ship to take them there, France and America friends enough that it shouldn’t be too hard to do. I say America would be a fine place to start—seeing the world, of course.”
Lindsay was so astonished she just stared at her friend, her eyes clouding when she saw tears swimming in Corisande’s eyes. And she knew, once they reached Brittany, they would be saying good-bye to each other, maybe forever. But as Donovan drew his wife gently against him, Lindsay felt Jared squeeze her hand and she smiled into his eyes, knowing, too, that she and Corisande had both found what they were looking for… the men of their dreams.
“What do you think, Lindsay?” Jared’s gaze full of love, his voice playfully teasing, he lowered his head and gave her a tender kiss that thrilled her to her toes. “America?”
Lifting her hands to cradle his face, she whispered against his lips, “Anywhere, Jared. Anywhere as long as I’m with you.”
*****
Read on for an exciting excerpt from Miriam Minger's acclaimed novel of love, honor, and adventure, Wild Angel—and enjoy more of The O’Byrne Brides Series with Wild Roses and Wild Moonlight!
Miriam Minger is the bestselling author of emotion-packed action adventure historical romances that sweep you from lusty medieval times to Regency England—and with some dangerously seductive 18th century tales in between. With two dozen books published in five languages, Miriam is also the author of contemporary romance, romantic suspense, inspirational suspense, and children’s books. She is the winner of several Romantic Times Reviewer's Choice Awards—including Best Medieval Historical Romance of the Year for The Pagan's Prize—and a two-time RITA Award Finalist for The Brigand Bride and Captive Rose.
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