by L. R. Olson
The greedy whore latched onto Jules and jerked her behind the safety of the bar.
I spun around just as a second man lunged toward me. My fist connected with his gut, sending him doubling over with a howl of pain. Rafe was embattled in his own brawl, fighting two brutes. With quick assessment, I took in the room. Only Tony’s ten men seemed intent on fighting. The other few visitors merely watched from the corners, entertained by the battle.
Perhaps it was arrogance, but I had no doubt we could take these ten ruffians.
I’d waylaid two, as had Rafe. Six left. They circled us, a variety of sizes and shapes, one as menacing as the next. There was no simple way out of this mess. I caught Rafe’s gaze. Blood trailed from the corner of his mouth, his hair was mussed and a sleeve was torn from his shirt. Any other day I would have mocked his state, taunted him as a weakling.
Not today. Today I had one goal and one only, get Julianna the hell out of this pub. Yes, they could do a lot of damage with their meaty fists, but I wasn’t worried about myself. Jules could be hurt in the process and I couldn’t allow that. Needing the reassurance, I glanced toward the bar. The chit was gone.
“Shite,” I snapped.
Where the hell was Jules?
Frantic, I started to search for her when a fist caught me off guard. Knuckles connected with my cheek, snapping my head back. I stumbled. Somehow I managed to stand my ground, even as a warm trail of blood traveled down the side of my face.
“Damn it all! Rafe, find Jules!”
The bastard who had hit me would pay. I lunged forward. My body slammed into his. We fell back onto a table, the legs collapsing under our weight. Vaguely I was aware of the crowd cheering. We hit the floor with a thud that stirred the dust. I didn’t pause but lifted my fist and hit the man in the face, knocking him unconscious.
“Jamie!” Rafe snapped, the warning in his voice sending a cold chill down my body. Something was wrong.
Jules. I needed to find Jules.
I stumbled to my feet.
“Julianna?”
“Here!” she called out.
I jerked my gaze toward the piano. Looking pale and uncertain, Julianna rested on the bench. She wasn’t alone. One of the pirate’s henchmen stood behind her with a knife to her throat while Tony merely sat there watching the fight with a grin of amusement. I would kill the man, right after I killed the minion holding a knife to Julianna’s delicate throat.
Seeing the knife did something inside me. I could no longer control my emotions. The reserved, unruffled earl I’d tried so hard to portray, vanished. In his place an animal remained. With a roar, I charged toward them. How dare he touch my wife.
“Blast it, Jamie,” Rafe snarled. “Slow down! I can’t protect your back!”
“She owes me a song!” Tony grumbled, as I raced toward them.
The man holding my wife lifted his lips and growled, but I could see the unease in his black eyes. His anxiety caused him to tighten his hold and the knife pierced her skin. Jules flinched. When I saw the tiny drop of blood on her pale neck I lost all control. Fists weren’t good enough. I pulled the pistol from my waistband, aimed and shot the bastard in the shoulder. Jules screeched, jumping to her feet and stumbling away from the injured man. It all happened so quickly it was a blur.
“Hell,” Tony grumbled, looking distastefully at his man who was sprawled bleeding upon the floor. “I merely wanted me song.”
I wrapped my arm around Julianna’s waist and drew her close, nuzzling my chin into her silky hair, needing to hold her for some reason I didn’t dare dwell upon. “Are you all right?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
Her scent was like heaven in the wretched hell. Shite, now that it was over, my hands were shaking. She could have been killed, and the thought had affected me more than I wanted to admit. I’d been in more than one fight, but never had I lost control. Never had I experienced so much anger, so much…feeling.
“No one touches my wife.”
Tony gave a half shrug. The fun was over. “Fine.” He glanced around the room at his men. “Enough already.”
His ruffians grumbled as they shuffled back to their tables, leaving their fallen men laying upon the floor in moaning heaps. Two tables had been destroyed. Five men lay unconscious upon the ground. The bar wenches were making rounds, cleaning up the broken glass with muttered curses of annoyance. I pulled a small purse of coins from my jacket and tossed it to the bar keep for repairs. No one could say I didn’t pay my tabs.
Rafe swiped at the blood trailing from the corner of his mouth. “Surprised you’d go through all of this just to get back a wife you don’t want.”
Jules stiffened, pushing away from me. His words had hurt her feelings. Good. She deserved it. Instinct had made me pull her close, trying to protect her. I’d forgotten myself. Julianna was still the conniving witch who had lied. Still the woman who had placed us all in danger.
I lifted my hand and brushed aside the blood trickling from my brow. “Shut up, Rafe.”
“Ye ever need anything,” Tony said from his table, staring hard at Jules. “You ask for me. Anything at all, lass.”
She nodded, looking confused and grateful. She hadn’t expected such loyalty from a criminal and neither had I. I didn’t like it. She was my damn wife. “She doesn’t need your help, pirate.”
He narrowed his eye and growled in response.
I might not ever love Jules, but I would provide for her and I sure as hell was capable of protecting her. I grabbed a tankard of ale the bar wench placed on the counter and drank.
Jules looked up at me with an apologetic gaze. “James…”
I slammed the empty tankard upon the bar. “Outside, now!”
She scampered across the room, but not before I noticed her expression. I’d embarrassed her in front of her ruffian friends. Good. Maybe she’d actually listen next time. I started after her, Rafe falling into step beside me. Jimmy held the door wide.
Knowing my brother, I realized the bastard had probably enjoyed the fight. Ten years ago I might have as well. But I had responsibilities. One of which was scurrying toward the door, a flush of heated anger in her cheeks.
“Go easy on her,” my brother whispered.
I gritted my teeth in response.
“Will still be wanting me song eventually, lass!” Tony called out.
Rafe pressed his hand into my back. “Keep going, just let it be.”
I bit back my growl of annoyance. When Jules actually paused to glance back at the pirate as if to respond, I gripped her arm and jerked her out into the night. I wanted to shake sense into her. To lock her in the carriage so she couldn’t even think of leaving again. To threaten her if she dared to disobey me. But I knew it wouldn’t matter. The blasted, stubborn woman. She hadn’t been taught to be prim and proper. She’d been left to her own devices for far too long.
“You’re bleeding,” she whispered her eyes all soft and warm as she tripped beside me. I hated her for pretending to care. Hated my body for reacting to her compassion. Hell, it was her damn fault I was injured.
“I’m fine.”
She pulled a handkerchief from her reticule and started to reach toward my face.
Before she could touch me, I grabbed her wrist, making her gasp in surprise. “Get in the carriage.”
Kelps, I was satisfied to see, was gone.
Her lips thinned, her jaw quivering. “I was merely concerned.”
“I don’t need your concern.” I gripped her waist and tossed her into the coach. “So help you if you leave this carriage again without my permission.”
She shoved her skirts aside and scampered across the seat. “James, please…”
I slammed the door shut in her pretty face. “Roberts!” The next in command, who had the decency to look ashamed, scurried off the top of the carriage. “Can you handle the team?”
“Aye, my lord,” the young buck preened, ready to prove himself.
“Good, you’re the ne
w driver.”
I started toward my mount. Her compassion wasn’t real. She was play-acting. It was all a ruse. I had allowed her to manipulate me once, I would not again.
“Well, that’s one way to win your wife’s heart,” Rafe muttered, falling into step beside me. “Great way to start off your marriage, Jamie.”
“Who the hell said I wanted to win her heart?”
“I would assume you’d at least want a peaceful relationship with your wife.” Rafe shrugged, glancing back to make sure we weren’t being followed. “You missed your opportunity. There’s nothing more a woman loves than an injured man.”
“I don’t want her touching me, I don’t want her compassion, I don’t need it.”
I jumped onto my mount as Rafe found his.
“Well, sounds like you’re going to have a long and happy life,” Rafe said sarcastically as he spurred his horse forward.
Bastard was lucky my pistol was empty.
Chapter 4
Julianna
The carriage door opened, jerking me from a fitful slumber.
Startled, I jumped up, nearly hitting my head on the carriage ceiling. “James, I…”
But it wasn’t James who stood there. It was Rafe. I was too tired to keep the disappointment from my gaze. I hated James. I hated him. So why, when I thought he might die in that pub, had my heart leapt into my throat? Why did I throw myself in front of him to save his wretched life? And why had I been so bloody relieved when the fighting ended with the man still breathing?
When he’d shoved me behind him as if to protect me, I’d falsely assumed that he had cared about my welfare. When I’d noticed the panic and anger in his gaze when he’d seen me sitting on the piano bench, a knife to my throat, I’d mistakenly assumed he might actually have feelings for me. Liked me, even. I’d been so wrong. He couldn’t even stand my touch.
Still, I was adult enough to know that I had been at fault for forcing my way into that pub. That the injuries done to James and Rafe had been my doing. That even worse could have happened to the brothers…and me.
And I’d been meaning to apologize, but I hadn’t expected Rafe to open the carriage door. I looked beyond him, searching the dusk to find James. He wasn’t there.
“Come on, sweetheart.” Rafe held out his hand. “We’ve finally arrived.”
“Where’s James?” I tried to brush the loose tendrils from my face, to smooth the wrinkles from my skirts and make myself somewhat presentable, but it was useless. Two days in a carriage had done their damage. I slid my hand into his and allowed him to help me from the coach. I was meeting the household staff for the first time, my household staff, and I looked no better than the women who’d been working at the pub where Tony resided.
Rafe shifted, looking anxious. A large, dark bruise marred the side of his face, adding to my guilt. “My brother, umm, went inside to see about dinner.”
I flushed, knowing exactly what had happened: James had left me to Rafe’s care because he didn’t give a fig about my welfare. He had left, not bothering to introduce me to the staff because I wasn’t important enough. I was almost too tired and too devastated to be angry. Almost.
The nerve of the man!
Forcing my irritation away, I gave him a wavering smile in appreciation. The sun had set, and I was finally going to get my first vision of my new home. It wouldn’t do to be seething when I met the household. They would never take me seriously.
With the smile still in place, I allowed Rafe to escort me around the carriage. I would hold my head high. James would not see how he had injured my pride. But finally catching sight of the estate, I paused. My heart plummeted. It was a bleak and dreary place made of dark stone and heavy oppression, so depressing that it reminded me of its master.
A large and foreboding castle that crawled across the equally dreary landscape. The windows stared unblinkingly back at me. No one stood at the front steps, not even a servant to greet us.
Surely there had to be something to enjoy in this meager world where I suddenly found myself. Frantic, I pulled away from Rafe and spun around, only to find that the land that surrounded the monstrous castle was just as depressing. Gone was my beautiful, sunny, Dorset. In its place was a flat, dark, misty moor where fog seemed to hover like ghosts in a cemetery. Nothing. No trees. No hills. Only…grayness. My chest felt tight. I couldn’t breathe.
“Lovely, isn’t it?” Rafe said drolly.
I was so surprised by his sarcasm that I actually laughed. “Yes, very.”
“God.” He shook his head. “As children we were terrified of the place. Thought it haunted.”
“Is it?”
He grinned. “Perhaps.”
Why couldn’t I have married Rafe instead? He might have been a blatant rake, flirting with whomever was available, but at least he was kind and attentive. With Rafe one knew what they were getting. With James…well, I was constantly on my toes.
He led me gently toward the door. “At night we’d always end up in Jamie’s room. Especially during storms.”
If he wished to distract me with sweet childhood memories, so be it.
“He didn’t tell you to go away?” I asked, curious about my husband, despite wanting to be dismissive. How could I not wonder over his heartlessness? Perhaps I merely wanted to find an explanation for the way he acted. “Did he not demand you be adults, to stop being ninnies?”
“Jamie?” He looked suddenly serious, and I wondered if the memories were not good ones after all. “Not Jamie. Jamie was the one who protected us.”
His response more than surprised me and I couldn’t help but feel there was more to his statement that I didn’t understand. “Protected you from what?”
He blinked, as if breaking from his stupor and smiled that rakish grin. He’d said too much. “The ghosts, of course.”
He wasn’t telling me all.
“Come, you’ll have a hearty meal. Mrs. Vita has prepared the rooms in the west wing, which are quite lovely, if I remember correctly. All will be better tomorrow when the sun comes up.”
I highly doubted that but decided to keep my mouth shut and continued to smile, thankful for the kindness he offered. We started up the wide set of stairs toward the double doors. “And where are Jamie’s rooms?”
I wasn’t sure why I used his nickname. Something so personal. Jamie. Perhaps it made him seem more human and I wanted to believe desperately he had a soul.
Rafe’s face grew tight. “The east wing.”
Of course. He wanted to be as far away from me as possible. Although I didn’t want it to, the realization hurt. Would he ever forgive me? More importantly would I ever forgive him? The large front doors opened as we reached the top of the stairs. A butler, as dour looking as the landscape, stood there to greet us. His face was gray like the sky, and so wrinkled I couldn’t possibly tell his age.
“Jenkins,” Rafe called out in greeting. “Like the house, Jenkins has been with us since the 1400s.”
The man nodded. “Very good, sir.”
Why couldn’t I be like Rafe? Dismissive, finding amusement in the absurd? I was blasted tired of my melancholy ways. I’d always been a jovial sort, until I’d met James. The man was enough to make the sweetest person sour.
I glanced around the large foyer. The walls were covered in dark paneling, and a staircase twisted and turned its way up to a second, and even third floor. On either side the foyer was a door, one leading into what looked like a library and one into a parlor. Both were covered with the same dark and dreary paneling. As for décor, an iron chandelier hung from the high ceiling above, and a large painting of the same dreary landscape outside hung on the far wall. That was all. No flowers. No portraits of happy children. Not even a porcelain shepherdess upon a fireplace mantel.
“Where is my dear brother, Jenkins?”
“Which one, my lord?” the man asked, closing the door behind us.
At least it was warm inside.
“The best of the lot, Jamie.
”
I had to resist the urge to roll my eyes. The best of the lot? Surely he was being sarcastic once more. The day I believed James was the sweet and caring man Rafe had tried to sell to me, would be the day I believed in St. Nicholas himself.
“I believe he retired to his chambers.”
“Lovely,” Rafe said through gritted teeth.
I gave him a sympathetic smile. He didn’t want to be saddled with me any more than I wanted to be here. How I wanted to kill James! How could he be so disrespectful? It was embarrassing, belittling.
Rafe returned my smile, doing his best to put me at ease. “Come, we’ll get a drink in the parlor while we wait for Mrs. Vita to escort you to your rooms.”
“It is lovely,” I said, trying at least. “I hadn’t expected the estate to be so sprawling.”
We made it to the threshold of the parlor. “I’m sure Jamie won’t mind if you’d like to redecorate. The place could do with some lighter colors, something modern and fem—”
“You damn bastard!”
Rafe jerked me back just as two men flew across the room, crashing together and falling to the ground with a thud that vibrated the chandelier above.
I couldn’t quite contain my gasp of surprise.
“Good lord,” Rafe muttered, pushing me behind him for protection.
But I wasn’t about to be shoved aside like a child. This was my home. I peeked around his shoulder just as a rather pretty blue vase tumbled to the ground and shattered. The two men rolling around on the carpet had broken the only decent thing in the room. Pity. Yet another painting of the dreary landscape hung above the fireplace. The walls were the same dark wood as the entryway, with rich green curtains covering the windows. How depressing.
“These lovely men are your new brothers-in-law. Lucky you,” Rafe said. One man with a scar across his cheek sat up, pulled his arm back and hit the other in the face.
I grimaced.
First the fight in the pub, and now this? Dear lord, where had I ended up? Purgatory? Or perhaps I’d gone straight to hell. Surely this was punishment for some past deed.
“Eh, it’s not normally like this,” Rafe said, but I knew he lied. “Lads. How about we settle down.”