Amorous Redemption

by Faye Hall

  His fingers ran through her loosened hair. “I knew you were there, Phoebe. It took every ounce of my control not to reach out and touch you, just to feel the softness of your skin beneath my fingertips.”

  When she remained just staring at him, her brow raised disbelievingly, he knew he had to make her believe him.

  “You are a hard woman to forget,” he continued, needing to convince her he spoke the truth. “You are even if I hadn’t shared your bed.”

  “Do such sweet words woo all your women, Duncan?” she asked with a slight, humourless chuckle.

  His roughened fingertips traced unseen patterns on her silken passion blushed cheek. “There are no other women, Phoebe.”

  “You really expect me to believe that, don’t you?” she asked, her brow rose.

  He nodded. “Reach in my trouser pocket if you don’t believe me.”

  “What?” she asked confused.

  Duncan reached for his pants that were lying beside them on the grass after being discarded sometime during the throes of passion. “Look in the right pocket.”

  She placed her hand inside, pulling forth a lock of her hair tied together with a piece of cotton.

  “What is this?” she asked.

  He smiled. “You cut your hair while we were on the road back from Ravenswood. I’ve had it with me ever since.”

  “Why?” she asked, her brow furrowed.

  His fingers brushed her cheek softly. “Because it’s a part of you, Phoebe.”

  She held his stare a moment longer, then hesitantly lowered her mouth to his, taking his lips hungrily. Duncan’s arms engulfed her as he rolled her beneath him, his rod pulsing for her yet again.

  * * * * *

  Helping Phoebe right the layers of her gown while she attended to her disordered hair, Duncan marvelled at the pleasure this woman could fill him with. It was unlike any he had experienced before...it was also something he knew for certain he didn’t want to go looking for anywhere else.

  Phoebe was whom he desired...whom he loved.

  This last thought scared him slightly, but he knew now there was no other word for the emotions this woman created in him.

  With her he felt complete.

  “I don’t want to go back to the house, Duncan. If your father sees us together, he will surely tell Gordon,” she pleaded with him, her head slightly bowed avoiding meeting his eyes.

  “I won’t let my brother hurt you anymore, Phoebe,” he tried reassuring her.

  She stepped away from him. “You cannot stop him, Duncan.”

  Walking up behind her, his hands rested near her shoulders, his roughened fingers rubbing against her soft skin. Slowly he leaned into her and gently kissed the arch of her neck.

  “I will do everything in my power to protect you, Phoebe.”

  He turned her around to face him. “Get yourself somewhere safe, somewhere Gordon won’t be able to find you then send word to me. I will take you away from here.”

  She kissed him lightly on the lips. “I love you, Duncan.”

  His hand cupped her cheek affectionately, as he lowered his lips to hers again. Leaving her lips, he gazed upon her a moment longer before turning them back in the direction of the hall.

  Walking inside the functions hall together, Duncan and Phoebe went to casually part company, knowing they could not let on what had transpired between them. Before she could take more than a step away though, Duncan’s father stopped before them.

  “It seems you two do know each other after all?” Charles asked. “Duncan here gave me the impression that, other than you being his captive, you weren’t yet acquainted.”

  He stepped toward his father, creating some distance between himself and the woman beside him.

  “Phoebe just wanted to ask me if Carmen needed any help with the wedding plans, Father.”

  Charles nodded, obviously uninterested in his son’s excuse. “Duncan, I need you to go out of town for me for a few days on business.”

  “Out of town?” he asked, his gut sinking as he briefly glanced back at Phoebe then back to his father. “Is that such a good idea, Father?” Duncan asked. “I mean with the wedding so close.”

  The old man waved his hand in the air as if such a matter was unimportant. “As you just said, Phoebe here is more than happy to assist Carmen if she needs it. You, my son, are needed for far more important matters.”

  “It seems you will have to excuse me, Phoebe,” he said casually, glancing apologetically back at her.

  Though he hated treating her so casually, he knew he couldn’t refuse his father—not yet anyways.

  “I’ll come to your study and you can give me directions, Father,” he said, turning back to the old man.

  Nodding, Charles headed off toward the entrance to the house.

  “You work for him?” she asked, stepping back away from him as if suddenly realising the danger she had put herself in falling in love with this man.

  He turned to her, knowing what she must be thinking.

  “I can’t explain it to you now, Phoebe. You just have to trust me.” he begged her to understand.

  She avoided his grasp when he reached out for her.

  “Damn it, Phoebe!” he cursed. “You know me!”

  Tears welled in her eyes. “You know, I thought I did, Duncan.”

  With that she turned and ran away from him and out of the hall.

  * * * * *

  Phoebe ran from the hall and toward her carriage feeling a fool.

  Duncan worked for The Lester Company!

  She didn’t want to believe it when she first heard rumour of him returning to take charge of The Lester Company, but seeing him with his father earlier there could be no doubt. He took orders from Charles MacAllester, and did every sordid corrupt detail that was requested of him.

  Just as Gordon did.

  Just as she heard Duncan once did years ago.

  Tears engulfing her, Phoebe began to fear how she was going to get out of this situation and as far away from the MacAllesters as possible.

  He had been right, though. She did need a safe place, but the only place she owned was currently far from safe.

  So where was she to go?

  “Are you alright, Miss?” a man standing near her carriage asked.

  Wiping the tears from her face, Phoebe glanced up to see a familiar face.

  “You’re the debt collector that was chasing Duncan, aren’t you?”

  He nodded. “My name is David Pola, Miss.”

  “Why are you here?” she asked. “Are you a spy for my husband?”

  David shook his head. “At present I am just a man concerned with the upset woman before me. A woman as beautiful as you shouldn’t suffer such sorrow.”

  Phoebe felt herself again being overcome with tears. “I have been a fool. I have fallen in love with a man—a man who is as evil as my husband.”

  Reaching in his jacket pocket, David pulled forth a handkerchief and handed it to her. “There are few people who are as evil as Gordon MacAllester, Miss.”

  She dabbed at her tears. “I need to get away from here. I need to just disappear.”

  Suddenly remembering how she had first met this man, an idea began forming in Phoebe’s mind.

  “You’re a hired gun, aren’t you, David?” she asked him. “A man willing to do whatever is asked by the highest bidder?”

  David nodded.

  “I have money. I will pay you whatever you ask. Just do this for me—please,” she begged.

  “Do what, Miss?” David asked.

  “Make me disappear.”

  * * * * *

  Duncan wanted to yell out and call Phoebe back to him. He wanted to follow her as she ran from the hall to explain what was happening, but he knew he couldn’t. At least not now, and he doubted any time soon. He hadn’t lied to her though. She was the reason he had returned to town, but he knew they would never be left in peace until his family and all their evil had been brought to an end.

 
He doubted she would understand his actions, still he knew he had to see this through if he and Phoebe were ever going to be truly safe.

  Reluctantly leaving the hall, Duncan entered the house and walked toward his father’s study, wondering not for the first time about all he had invited upon himself by returning to his father and the family’s company. He still thought this was the only way to get Phoebe back into a safer surrounding, but he was also now realising the danger it was putting both of their lives in.

  If it was ever discovered what they had planned, of the relationship they shared, they would both surely suffer a fate worse than death. But if their plan worked, and Phoebe was freed from her marital prison...

  All he wanted was to save this woman, to hold her in his arms and confess his undying…

  This last thought made him stop.

  Exactly what was it he wanted to confess to her?

  Duncan had slept with many women in his life but never had any of them made him want to confess to anything other than a desire to bed them. But Phoebe—he wanted more than just a physical relationship with her. He wanted to share things with her he never had with any other. He wanted to learn more about the woman she was, about the woman she had been and about the woman she would become.

  He wanted to show this woman so much love that she would never be able to remember another man she had been tempted by. When he first laid eyes on Phoebe, he admitted to being attracted to her beauty, but never had he thought to fall in love with her. After all, men like him had no time for tenderness of the heart. In the past, he only ever allowed himself the physical release sought with whichever woman showed him interest. But Phoebe...he wanted to be more than just an interest to her. He wanted her to love him, and to show him her love in the years ahead of them.

  Knocking on the door to his father’s study, Duncan waited, wondering how he was going to tell Phoebe, tell his brother’s wife, that he was in love with her and wanted her to be his and only his.

  Upon being bid enter, Duncan walked into his father’s study.

  “Father, I’m not sure I can afford to leave town for a few days—”

  “You’ll leave this afternoon,” his father cut him off. “There’s a man waiting for you a few hours north near Lochinvar station. He’s holding some stolen goods for you to collect and bring back here so they can be on the next ship back to England.”

  He studied his father, curiosity getting the better of him. “What kind of stolen goods are they, Father?”

  Charles glanced over his glasses at his son. “Only the chief executive is to be privy to such information, Duncan.”

  He nodded, knowing this was his time to try his hand. “I’m well aware of that, Father.”

  The old man sat back in his chair silently for a few minutes, eyeing his son carefully.

  “Lord Harrington needs his debts cleared,” Charles finally explained. “I suggested to him that maybe his mother-in-law’s jewels would be enough to cover them. It seems he agreed with me.”

  “Lord Harrington?” He asked. “But won’t they be recognized back in England?”

  Charles shook his head. “By the time they arrive in the motherland, the jewels will be little more than gems and a few bars of gold, all of which will sell quickly on the black market for at least double what I gave the old fool.”

  The old man handed his son the folded piece of paper that had been sitting on his desk. “The ship name and docking port you’ll need to drop the goods at. Ship leaves Friday morning.”

  Duncan took the piece of paper from his father. “How will I recognize this man waiting for me?” he asked.

  “You won’t,” his father quickly replied. “He’ll recognize you though, Duncan. I told him I’d be sending my chief executive to do the job personally. He has a description of you so there will be no mistake.”

  Knowing not to make a fuss over what his father had just said, Duncan merely nodded and hurried from the study.

  He wanted to stop and tell Phoebe where he was going and why but he knew he didn’t have time. If Duncan were to get back here by Friday with the goods he would have to leave immediately.

  Returning to his station, Duncan quickly changed and began gathering the few belongings he would need for the travel.

  “Are you going somewhere, Duncan?” David Pola asked from the doorway behind him.

  He glanced over his shoulder at his hired man.

  “I will be back Friday, David.”

  Remembering what else he needed done in his absence, he stopped his packing and turned to face the other man.

  “I need you to get word to Phoebe. I need you to tell her where I’ve gone and when I will be back.”

  “I met her tonight,” David confessed as he walked slowly to the tray of alcohol on the mantle. Pouring himself a drink, he turned his attentions back to Duncan. “Your lady friend believes she has fallen in love with a man far more evil than her husband. She wants to pay me to make her disappear.”

  Duncan threw the folded shirt he held in his hand to the floor. “Damn it! She heard me talking with my father. She knows now without any doubt that I’ve returned to working for him. She ran off before I could explain why.”

  David sipped his drink. “I will try to get word to her, but I can’t guarantee she’ll listen.”

  “Keep an eye on her, David, please.” Duncan begged him. “I will pay whatever it takes, but I need to know you will keep her safe in my absence.”

  David nodded in agreement.

  Bending down, Duncan picked his shirt off the floor and began rolling it up to fit in his saddlebags.

  “I need one more thing from you, David. I need you and your men to visit Inkerman Downs Station, and if there is anyone living there, you need to convince them to move immediately.”

  David gulped down the last of his drink. “How convincing do you want me to be?”

  “Enough to make them move, but I want them left alive.”

  * * * * *

  David Pola and two of his men pulled on the reins of their horses at the front of Inkerman Downs Station.

  “You men keep your guns in their holsters,” David yelled at them as they all dismounted and walked steadily toward the front door.

  Looking around, it was quite obvious that someone had started to take up residence here, but something didn’t seem quite right. For a house so big and being occupied, everything seemed so very quiet. No servants could be heard rushing around, nor any groundsman or station hands to be seen.

  “Maybe they aren’t at home?” one of David’s men asked.

  David shook his head, suddenly pulling his pistol from its holster.

  “Something isn’t right,” he mumbled. “You men stay back and keep your eyes open.”

  Stopping at the door, David knocked loudly. No one answered. He knocked again. Still nothing. Reaching down, he tried at the door handle. It opened with ease.

  “You men, get your guns ready!” David called back.

  “But you said—”

  “It could be an ambush!” David shouted. “Now get your guns ready!”

  Waiting until his men had done as he’d ordered, he cautiously entered the darkened house.

  The house appeared empty, though there was still plates set on the table, glasses half filled with wine also there. David was alert as he stepped further into the house, expecting any minute to be set upon by several men wanting nothing more than his blood. Walking into the sitting room though, he doubted anyone in this house was still capable of harming himself or his men.

  Several feet before him on the expensive looking rug lay two bodies, a man and a woman, their throats cut, their blood staining the woven fibres beneath them. Going to the bodies, David crouched down to inspect the fatal wounds.

  Each body was cool to the touch, the blood around the cuts were starting to dry.

  “They were killed last night,” he mumbled to himself, trying to reason out what could have happened here.

  Standing up, Da
vid looked around, hoping for any clue as to what had happened here or who was here last night. Wandering, he found himself back at the table, looking at the plates and glasses set out.

  There were three glasses of wine and three plates set for dinner, yet there were only two bodies lying in the sitting room.

  “What happened here, sir?” one of David’s men asked from behind him.

  “It appears their dinner guest had a greater taste for murder than for food.” David replied. “We need to get out of here!”

  * * * * *

  Arriving at the dock at Heath Creek just after dawn Friday morning, Duncan knew he was lucky to still be alive. He had barely left Holme Hill when he noticed a man on horseback following him from a distance. After sneaking up on him and confronting him, he soon learnt the man had been sent after him to bring him to an untimely death. But this man would be of no danger to him or anyone else anymore. He had made sure of it.

  “Are you Duncan MacAllester?” a young errand boy asked, tugging at his sleeve.

  “What is it, boy?”

  The young boy handed him a folded piece of paper before quickly running off about his business. Duncan unfolded the paper and began to read.

  I found the Porter’s with their throats cut. Two bodies

  but three settings at the table. No other clues.

  Phoebe is still living in town at her husband’s but she is safe.

  I have sent one of my men to work for her and keep an eye on her.

  I have not yet told her of her parents.

  “The bastards!” he cursed as he read the message.

  He couldn’t be certain who was responsible for the deaths of Phoebe’s parents, but he would bet near anything that Gordon had something to do with it. After all, he was the one that would gain the most from their death. But such an action would also draw attention from the police, attention he wasn’t yet ready for.

  He didn’t have enough proof against The Lester Company or his family to ensure they paid for all the crimes they had committed.