by Amy Sandas
“Good,” Olivia said as she lowered the gun. “Bind her well and tight. And find something to gag her with. Her voice is grating on my nerves.”
“My pleasure,” the coachman muttered, and Anna got the feeling it would be just that.
Panic set in and she cursed herself for so underestimating the degree to which her sister had intended to go with this plot. Instinct urged her to take a step back, but she was already up against the wall. As if enjoying the sight of her fear, Olivia’s henchman smiled even wider. Anna’s eyes darted about again, though she already knew she wouldn’t see anything to use to her advantage. Why hadn’t she been more cautious and brought a weapon with her?
She had failed. Her rescue attempt had turned disastrous. If she hadn’t acted so impetuously, Jude wouldn’t be in mortal danger.
She glanced down to where he lay and nearly gasped out loud when her eyes met his piercing blue gaze.
The next moments all happened so fast that Anna didn’t even have to time to enjoy her relief in seeing that Jude was conscious.
As the henchman started toward Anna with the rope, Jude kicked his legs out into the man’s path. The man went down hard and fast and Jude was on him in an instant. He had already managed to release the ropes Anna had loosened. With his hands free, he swiftly threw a series of debilitating punches into the other man’s face.
But the coachman clearly had some experience as a brawler. He had rolled to his back as soon as he hit the ground and Jude only got in a couple hits before the other man grabbed him about the waist and twisted, throwing Jude to the ground.
The two men wrestled and struggled for dominance. The coachman was the larger of the two, but Jude was swift and agile. Just as Jude managed to get over the top of the other man, pinning his arms at his sides with his knees, Olivia lifted the pistol and aimed it directly at Jude’s head.
Anna’s shout was a combination of terror and warning as she leapt across the short distance to her sister. Olivia turned at the last minute, but she was too slow. Anna grasped her sister’s arms and forced them upward just as the pistol went off with a deafening blast. Her ears rang painfully and the pungent scent of gunpowder filled her nostrils.
Olivia tried desperately to twist away from Anna’s hold, but her legs tangled in her skirts and she started to fall. Anna fell with her, but only because she refused to release her hold on the gun. Stunned and tired, Olivia could not keep her grip on the weapon and Anna wrenched it from her hands. Then she rolled away and rose quickly to her feet.
She turned around to see Jude slowly standing as well. The other man was knocked out on the floor at his feet. They stood there for a few moments. Both of them breathing hard with terrifying exhilaration. Blood had dried on the side of his head from the gash at his temple and it looked as though the coachman had gotten in a few hits to his face, but he was conscious. And alive.
Anna’s head swam with dizzying relief. She took a step toward him, wanting only one thing in the world just then, to wrap her arms around his waist and press her ear to his chest to hear the strong rhythm of his heart and the steady flow of his breath.
“Keep an eye on Olivia,” he said gruffly. “I need to tie this one up.”
His eyes had met hers only for a brief moment before he turned and bent to his task. His gaze had been unreadable, but his voice left a strange chill in its wake. Anna’s relief slid into confusion.
But she did as he asked.
After lifting herself to a seated position against the wall, Olivia hadn’t moved any further. Fully defeated now, she sat with her knees drawn to her chest and her face in her hands, crying softly.
Anna almost felt sympathy for her until she recalled the fierce intention in her sister’s stance as she had turned the gun upon Jude during the struggle. She had no doubt her sister would have pulled the trigger.
Once he finished using the length of rope that had been meant for Anna, as well as the rope that had bound his own wrists, to secure the coachman, Jude turned back to face her. He pushed both hands back through his hair, then winced as his fingers passed over the wound.
“What on earth possessed you to come here?” he demanded in a tone filled with censure. “Unaccompanied, unarmed! Have you any idea how foolish that was?”
Anna stiffened in defiance. From concern to fear to sudden terror, and then almost overwhelming relief, she was now rising swiftly to dark anger. She opened her mouth to suggest that maybe she should have just let Olivia shoot him, when heavy steps were suddenly heard from the floor above.
Anna tensed again, lifted the gun still in her hand and Jude quickly came around to her side. The new arrival reached the bottom of the stairs and paused to take in the scene around him. When his eyes lit upon Olivia, who was whimpering softly, the Duke of Clavering’s expression darkened with severe condemnation.
“Olivia! What in God’s blessed name have you been up to?”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
The words brought on a fresh torrent of tears and wails from the duchess. This time, the sobbing was undoubtedly authentic.
There was no mistaking the fury that filled the duke’s entire demeanor. Anna lowered the gun to her side but watched his approach with chilling apprehension. Clavering was not a tall man, perhaps a couple inches shorter than Jude, and his middle had gone a bit too fat, but he was still significantly larger and stronger than his wife. She didn’t know if the duke had ever been violent toward Olivia, if she had ever provoked him to that point, but Anna wasn’t sure she’d be able to stand idly by if he lifted his hand against her sister, no matter what she had done.
“Stand up, Olivia,” Clavering ordered as he stood over his wife’s crumpled form, his hands fisted at his sides.
“It’s not my fault,” she wailed behind her hands. “You can’t blame me for this!”
“I said, stand up,” the duke repeated in a low voice hovering on the edge of rage.
When she didn’t move immediately, he reached down to wrap a hand around her slim arm and hauled her to her feet. Anna took an instinctive step forward.
“Clavering,” Jude spoke up suddenly at her side, drawing the duke’s attention back around to them. “Let’s take this issue upstairs where we will be more comfortable.”
The tone of Jude’s words was hard and unyielding, giving the impression that he was not making a suggestion. The duke eyed him for a long second, obviously not accustomed to being challenged in even the smallest way. Then his eyes slid to Anna and to the man trussed up on the floor and he gave a short nod.
“Indeed,” Clavering muttered stiffly as he pulled a whimpering Olivia along with him toward the stairs. He jerked his head toward the fallen coachman as he passed. “What about him?”
“He won’t be going anywhere without assistance,” Jude answered as he gestured to Anna that she should follow the duke up the stairs.
As she passed in front of him, Jude reached out and covered her hand still holding the small pistol. The unexpected personal contact forced a flash of sensation to dance over her frazzled nerves.
Again there was that urge to lean into him. For strength, for assurance.
She glanced up into his face. The dark anger was holding fast in his handsome features. Without a word or a shift in his expression, he urged the gun from her grip and slipped it into his coat pocket. Then he glanced away and waited for her to continue toward the stairs.
His cold and disapproving manner made her heartsick. And furious. He was angry with her. What the bloody hell had she done that was so wrong? She would certainly think twice the next time she felt a burning need to rush to his aid.
They filed up the stairs and once in the hall, Anna came around and gestured toward the study.
“This way,” she directed.
She entered the room first and lifted the covers from the sofa and chairs.
Clavering shoved Olivia into a corner of the sofa. As soon as he released her she looked up at him from beneath straggling wisps of blonde hair. Her
sobs had softened to the occasional sniffle and her eyes were sharp with glaring effrontery. She quickly set to work restoring her crumbled composure as she stiffened her posture and smoothed out the skirts of her gown.
There was no apology in the duchess’s demeanor, only irritation and wariness as her sly gaze slid toward her husband.
Clavering’s expression of fury curled into a sneering look of disgust before he turned away from his wife and paced to the cold fireplace, putting his back to the room.
Anna stood beside one of the chairs near Olivia. She still wasn’t convinced the duke wouldn’t turn on his wife in violence and she intended to ensure that her sister was dealt with in a less physical manner. Her crimes weren’t to be ignored, but Anna cringed at the thought of the damage that could be caused by the duke’s beefy fists if they were raised in anger.
She glanced toward Jude where he stood near the door with his arms crossed over his chest. In the filtered sunlight that managed to penetrate the ground floor room, his injuries looked worse than she had initially thought. The gash at his left temple was long and angry. Blood dried his hair in clumps, coloring his ear and neck a disturbing reddish-brown. The fresh bruises along his jaw and below his right eye were turning an ugly purple. But he didn’t seem to be bothered by any of it. His gaze was trained upon the other occupants in the room with a fierce stare that clearly stated he intended to ensure the situation was resolved to his full satisfaction.
The whole time she studied him, he didn’t once glance in her direction.
She looked away with a numbing heaviness settling in her stomach.
“What do you intend to do, Clavering?” Jude’s question cut through the uneasy tension in the room.
The duke turned back to face the room and cast a dismissive glance toward Olivia before replying.
“None of your damned business, Blackbourne. I will handle this as I see fit. That is all you need to know.”
“Wrong,” Jude countered, bringing the duke’s eyes to him in swift surprise. “I am not leaving here until I am confident that Olivia will no longer have the opportunity to threaten the safety of my wife or myself. If I must involve the magistrate to ensure such an outcome, I will.”
“No!” Olivia interjected with a piercing shriek that made Anna cringe. “You cannot bring the authorities into this. It’s a family matter, surely we can discuss this between us in a rational manner,” she added in a voice gone suddenly sweet and cajoling.
Anna frowned with incredulous dismay. “Olivia, you have committed a serious offence. You nearly killed Jude. Surely you understand that you cannot walk away from this as if it were a prank gone awry.”
“Oh, shut up, Anna!” Olivia commanded. “I swear to God I should have shot you when I had the chance.”
“Enough,” the duke bellowed. “Not another goddamned word out of you, or I will gag you myself.”
Olivia looked as though she wished to balk at his highhanded command, but then she obviously thought better of it and settled back into the corner of the couch. “Oh, what does it matter? My life is over,” she moaned dramatically as she leaned her head back and closed her eyes, pressing her fingertips to her pale forehead.
Anna retreated into silence, shocked by the vehemence in her sister’s voice. She had always known there was no genuine affection between them, but she hadn’t realized just how deeply Olivia’s animosity ran.
After a moment, the duke must have felt confident that Olivia would remain silent and he returned his attention to Jude, sweeping his gaze over the other man in a measuring glance. When he spoke, it was in a much calmer voice, one designed to exert authority with a dose of charm.
A very small dose.
“The involvement of the authorities is highly unnecessary. No one has been hurt.” Jude lifted his brow at that, but chose not to argue the point. “I believe we can come to a satisfying solution between us.”
Anna watched Jude for his reaction. He was still furious and obviously not inclined toward leniency at the moment. But after a couple seconds, during which the two men stared each other down in silent confrontation, he uncrossed his arms and relaxed from his guard-like stance.
“We shall see,” he replied with some doubt as he came forward into the room.
He strode to where Anna stood gripping the back of the tall reading chair. She held her breath as she waited for him to meet her eyes, to give her some acknowledgement beyond his earlier reprimand.
But he didn’t. His eyes stayed focused upon the duke as he came to stand beside her. Close enough to present a united front, but not so close as to risk touching her with even a casual brush of his shoulder.
Anna looked away from her husband. She pushed aside the chilling fear that weighed down her heart in response to the growing distance he forced between them. There would be a time to confront him on that point, but Olivia needed to be dealt with first.
Suddenly, an eruption of noise interrupted the proceedings as someone burst through the front door of the house in what sounded like a violent scuffle.
“What the hell,” the duke muttered under his breath. “Stay put,” he barked at Olivia reclining in the corner of the sofa with her eyes closed.
She might have fallen asleep for the complete lack of reaction she displayed.
Clavering strode to the door and peered into the front hall.
“Bring the man here,” he said with a jerk of his head.
Two men in the duke’s livery appeared in the doorway barely containing the man struggling between them.
“Randall,” Anna exclaimed as she stepped forward. She had forgotten that she had instructed him to meet her here.
“Order your men off, Clavering. He’s one of ours,” Jude advised.
The duke nodded and his men released Randall so abruptly that the footman stumbled forward before catching himself. He immediately looked to Anna with an apologetic expression.
“I’m sorry, my lady. They came at me from the side of the house. I didn’t see them.”
“It’s all right, Randall,” Anna assured him. “The situation is under control.”
Randall nodded though he still appeared to be disappointed that he had allowed himself to be detained by the duke’s men. “Yes, my lady.” Turning to Jude he added sincerely, “It is a great relief to see you are safe, my lord.”
“Thank you,” Jude acknowledged, then followed with a question. “Did you bring a carriage?”
“Yes, my lord. I also have the ransom Lady Blackbourne instructed me to bring.”
That comment triggered a wretched groan from the direction of the sofa, proving that Olivia was fully conscious after all.
Jude shifted his attention to Anna for the first time since the duke had arrived. His expression was flat and his eyes were a cool shallow blue.
“I am assuming you arrived on horseback,” he said.
Anna’s entire body rebelled against Jude’s off-putting manner. He looked at her without the tiniest ounce of the emotion he had shown her just the night before as they had made love. Had it all been an illusion? The heat, the passion and the soul-deep connection. Maybe she had expected too much to change. She wasn’t naïve. She knew men experienced such things differently. But telling herself that didn’t seem to help with the wounds of rejection that opened wider with every chilling glance Jude gave her.
She searched his gaze, looking for something to reassure her. But, as she met his eyes, he blinked and glanced aside. The gesture spoke to her in a way words never could.
She finally nodded and answered, “Yes, Henry is tied outside.”
Having the answer he wanted, Jude turned back to Randall.
“I want you to take Lady Blackbourne home in the carriage. I will follow after the duke and I resolve things here.”
“No,” Anna protested. The chill in her heart spread through her limbs. “I am not leaving.”
Without looking at her, Jude replied in a voice that held a note of command she had never heard from hi
m before. “Go home, Anna. There is nothing for you to do here.”
Anger flashed like bright lightning through her brain. She had come here to save him and he treated her as if this had all somehow been her fault. The chill in her blood suddenly flared hot with a need to fight.
But not here.
She would go home. Not because he told her to, but because she did not want to lose her temper now. There were more important matters that needed to be tended to. Jude was right about that at least.
What she needed to say to her husband would wait.
Anna lifted her chin. Without sparing another glance at Jude and without a word of farewell, she strode from the study and continued across the hall and out the front door.
Chapter Thirty
Anna rapped her knuckles on her husband’s bedroom door. She cringed at how intrusive the knock sounded, but shook off her momentary hesitation. She wasn’t waiting any longer.
Jude had been home for more than thirty minutes now, and that was after he had stayed behind at her father’s house for nearly two hours. Waiting for his return had been excruciating, but it did allow her time to calm her temper. She decided to be reasonable about his reaction to her valiant rescue and would give him a chance to explain his chilly demeanor.
She was fairly certain he wouldn’t seek her out when he got back. After hearing him come up to his bedroom, she sat at the edge of her bed for as long as she could take, hoping he might prove her wrong.
But Anna wasn’t one to just sit idle once she made up her mind. And that morning she had made one of the biggest decisions of her life. She was going to confess all to her husband and if need be, beg him to let her love him.
Well, she might not beg, but she intended to put up a damned convincing argument on the subject, maybe even try some of that seduction Leif had suggested weeks ago.
It was time for her to claim her place as her husband’s wife.
So she had swiped up the materials she had gathered and left her room to march purposefully down the hallway to Jude’s bedroom.