Once Upon a Christmas Wedding

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Once Upon a Christmas Wedding Page 53

by Scarlett Scott


  Blood roared to his head as he willed his feet to move. He rushed over to her, paying little attention to a man laying a few feet from her on the rug, with a hole in his chest and his eyes staring vacantly up to the ceiling, or of Lady Pembrook who was standing in the far corner of the room still screaming her head off.

  “No, no, no…” Michael pleaded, skidding down onto his knees next to Holly. Dread knotted his stomach like a vice that wouldn’t let go. “Please, be all right. Please, sweetheart, wake up.” He wrenched his cravat from his neck and pressed it against the blood flowing from her forehead. “Holly wake up, sweetheart. Wake up!”

  Images of Edward bleeding to death in front of his very eyes, swam across his vision. He’d been so helpless, pressing his cravat against the wound in his friend’s chest while the white material quickly turned crimson as his friend’s life blood soaked into it.

  He’d lost his best-friend that day and he’d never fully recovered. But if he lost Holly… He couldn’t lose her. He couldn’t lose the only woman he’d ever truly cared about. His life simply wouldn’t be worth living without Holly in it. He felt sick even thinking of such a possibility.

  The woman might drive him mad with her bossy ways and how she would happily yell or chastise him, completely unafraid of him as no-one else was, but the idea of her not being around to do so, terrified him.

  She’d always been on the periphery of his thoughts, ever since he could remember. Yet he’d always brushed such notions aside, reasoning she was Edward’s sister and not to be trifled with. But somehow, she’d wormed her way into his heart.

  He’d never loved anyone before, like he loved her.

  The realization that he loved her completely, nearly bowled him over, but it suddenly wasn’t as scary as he’d once imagined it to be. In fact, it was liberating. No longer was the fear of giving his heart to someone consuming him, because his heart had already quite happily given itself away without him even being aware of it.

  But now she could leave him. Which he couldn’t let that happen. He wouldn’t!

  Michael’s eyes skimmed over her chest and he realized, in some surprise, that apart from the blood coming from the wound on her head, the other blood on her clothes didn’t seem to be hers. Very gently he brushed his fingers over her chest and stomach, just to make sure. Definitely no wound, thank God.

  Holly moaned softly. It was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard. Slowly she seemed to be starting to come to as her eyes blinked open.

  Lady Pembrook continued wailing in the background.

  “Damn it, that is enough!” he yelled across to the woman before turning his attention back to Holly. “It’s all right, my darling. I’m here. You’re safe now.” He quickly looked back at Lady Pembrook who had stopped her crying. “What happened?”

  The lady took a moment to compose herself. “She rushed the man and they struggled for a moment before the gun went off. Then Sir Reginald struck her on the temple with the butt of his pistol, before they both collapsed onto the floor.”

  Michael thought the man had looked vaguely familiar. Dark thoughts swirled in his head as he knew what Holly’s uncle most likely would have been up to—forcing Holly to go with him, so she could marry his son. The bastard! Michael wasn’t sorry about the man’s death in the slightest. But he was concerned Holly had been cracked over the head with a pistol butt. She could be concussed, which was not a good thing.

  Her eyes gradually focused on him and Michael found himself staring into the depths of a clear emerald ocean. Eyes that mesmerized him, and if he were being honest, always had. It was the most glorious sight he’d ever seen. “Oh, thank God,” he prayed aloud, before bending down and kissing her softly on the cheek. “I was so worried,” he whispered to her. “So, damned worried I didn’t know what to do with myself. Are you all right?”

  Slowly, she nodded. “My head is pounding though.” Holly looked away, her gaze not meeting his. “What happened to my uncle?”

  “He’s dead I’m afraid,” Michael said. “But that’s not something for you to worry over. We need to get you seen by a doctor.”

  It was at that point, he heard the commotion as several people rushed into the room and some women’s screams pierced the air. Swinging his head around, he saw Pembrook along with the butler and several guests standing at the threshold looking confused. “Damn it, get everyone out of here. You.” He pointed to the Pembrook’s butler. “Send someone to fetch a doctor immediately, and someone else to fetch a constable.”

  Pembrook still appeared confused, but his butler did as he had been instructed, hurrying out of the room.

  “Perhaps a magistrate, would be more appropriate than merely a constable,” Lady Pembrook spoke, having finally pulled herself together. “Mrs. Carlton was trying to steal from Lord Pembrook’s safe I’m afraid, and Sir Reginald, rest his soul, tried to stop her, so she attacked and killed him. She will need to be arrested!”

  There were several gasps from the guests that were still eagerly crowded around the doorway.

  “That is a lie,” Holly muttered, trying to push up from where she was laying. “Lady Pembrook was in league with my uncle, helping him to kidnap me, so I wouldn’t find the evidence to prove she’s been blackmailing people.”

  More gasps echoed from the door as Lady Pembrook hastily denied the allegation.

  “Stay still, my darling, at least until the doctor sees you,” Michael gently cautioned her.

  “I’m fine,” Holly insisted, carefully getting to her feet. “Besides, I don’t want to be anywhere near him a moment longer.” She glanced sideways at her uncle as she stood with Michael’s assistance.

  A second later though, she gripped hold of his arm and began to sway.

  Scooping her up into his arms, Michael cradled her against his chest. “It’s all right, my love, I have you.” He strode to the door. “Move,” he barked to the crowd, who all hastily began to scuttle away. “Pembrook, have this room closed, with a footman standing guard. The constable will want to inspect the body. As soon as the doctor gets here, send him to my room.”

  Pembrook nodded, as Michael began to carry Holly toward the staircase.

  “But…but what about her?” Lady Pembrook screeched, pointing at Holly. “She’s a murderer and a liar for suggesting I’ve had anything to do with blackmailing anybody!”

  Michael paused in his stride and spun around, Holly still in his arms. “If I hear you’ve been spewing any such nonsense any further, you will rue the day. Do I make myself clear?”

  Pembrook pulled his wife back toward him. “She won’t say anything further, Blackthorn. I shall make certain of it.”

  “Be sure to, Pembrook. Or you will not like my reaction.” Michael turned around and began to mount the staircase to the first floor, before striding down the hallway to his room. A minute later he safely deposited Holly on his bed and she lay back against the pillow with a slight whimper.

  “Are you all right?” Michael asked pulling a chair over and sitting beside her.

  She nodded. “I think so. It’s just my head. It’s pounding.”

  Leaning across, he peeled back his cravat that was still pressed against the wound on her forehead. Thankfully the bleeding was now simply a trickle. “Well you’ve definitely got a nice egg on your head, but the bleeding is easing up. Do you think you’re up to telling me what happened?”

  Succinctly, she told him what had occurred, but there was a distance in her voice and demeanor that troubled him. Perhaps she was still mad at him about earlier? But even that didn’t feel right.

  “So, Lady Pembrook is the one who has been dabbling in blackmail?” Michael murmured. “Makes sense why she was trying to paint you as guilty. We just have to find some proof she’s guilty and then she’ll be ruined.”

  “Consider her ruined.” Holly pulled out a stack of papers from the pockets of her gown and spread them out onto the bed next to her. “I got in and out of her safe, retrieving all of these before they arrived.�


  “That’s a lot of letters.”

  Holly nodded. “Goodness knows how many people she’s blackmailed over the years or how many she intended to.” She was silent for a minute before she spoke again. “She had a small dossier on you.”

  Michael raised a brow. “Me?” He wondered what sort of compromising information Lady Pembrook had gathered about him, for there had been a few situations over the years that could classify as compromising as he was neither a saint or a monk. Though there were none that he would ever be prepared to pay blackmail over. The very thought of Holly knowing about any of his liaisons or indiscretions over the years didn’t sit well. Perhaps that’s why she was acting so distant? “And what did it say?”

  She licked her dry lips. “That you were the one responsible for Edward’s death. That he died protecting you.” Her eyes stayed staring into his. “Please, Michael, tell me it’s not true.”

  Michael had never felt such a heaviness fill him. She knew. He could see the pain in her eyes, and with it the knowledge that she’d never forgive him. “It’s true.”

  Chapter 14

  His confirmation was devastating. All Holly wanted to do then and there was bury her head in the pillow next to her and cry. But she didn’t. She had to maintain her composure or she’d fall to pieces. “So, you’ve lied to me ever since Edward’s death.”

  Michael sat back on his haunches, his jaw clenched tightly, a look of unabashed guilt in his eyes. “I was wrong not to tell you the full truth. I know that, and I deeply regret doing so. But I never lied to you.” He gingerly reached over and covered her hand with his. “I’m so sorry, Holly. I never meant to hurt you.”

  She snatched her hand away. “A lie by omission is still a lie.” Holly felt like everything was shattering inside her. This man, who had slowly been weaving his way into her heart, had been deceiving her for years. “I think I finally deserve to know the full truth about how my brother died. Don’t you?”

  Taking in a somewhat ragged breath, Michael dragged a hand through his hair. “There hasn’t been a day that’s gone by since Edward died, that I haven’t thought about him, or deeply regretted my actions.”

  “What happened?”

  He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “We’d just arrived at the Peninsula and the next morning we were due to march toward the battlefront. Several of us decided to go and have a drink at the local establishment, even though Edward cautioned us against doing so, but he came along, mostly to keep an eye on us I would say, as that was the sort of person he was. Everything was fine for a little while, we were all drinking and joking around, in a general attempt to forget what we were about to embark on in the morning.” He took a deep breath and exhaled. “I started flirting with one of the women there, who had approached me, and when she suggested we go back to her lodgings I agreed.

  “Edward tried to stop me of course, saying he was suspicious of the lady and her motives, warning me that it wasn’t safe to go anywhere alone considering the hostilities in the region, particularly as I was rather foxed. But I of course ignored him. You see, before we left England I had probably one of the worst arguments I’ve ever had with my father. He was literally forbidding me to go to the Crimea, threatening to disown me if I dared to disobey him, so I told him to shove his title and I left. I think a part of me was hoping I would return in a coffin, just to stuff up the old man’s carefully laid plans of succession. Isn’t that ridiculous?” Michael laughed but there was no humor in the sound.

  “That’s why I also paid no heed to Edward’s plea that night. I left the tavern with the woman and when we turned down the next laneway, two men came out of the shadows, clearly having been waiting for the woman to bring them someone to rob. Seeing them both holding daggers, I knew then I’d been a fool. A stupid one, who should have listened to Edward. But what was worse was that a part of me was almost baiting them to fight me, eager to take out my frustrations with my father on anyone, and I was just drunk enough to not care that they had weapons.”

  Michael paused for a moment and Holly could see that his fists were clenched tightly together, and he was holding himself very still.

  “What happened then?” she asked.

  He cleared his throat, and glanced away from her, his eyes staring vacantly out the window on the other side of the room, but she could see the sheen of tears in them. “Edward had followed us, and before I could even draw my own weapon, Edward jumped in front of me as one of the men lunged toward me, his dagger leading the way. Edward made this surprised sort of noise as the knife plunged into his chest and he fell back against me, while the two men fled.”

  With a jerk of his hand he wiped away the wetness from his eyes. “There was so much blood, everywhere. I pressed my cravat as hard as I could against the wound, but it turned red almost instantly. I screamed for help until my voice was hoarse. But by the time a doctor arrived, it was too late, Edward was gone.”

  Holly made no effort to brush away the tears that were now streaming down her face. The image of her brother like that was almost too much to bear.

  “He was a hero,” Michael continued. “Saving my worthless neck. I was angry at him for months after. I kept thinking if only he hadn’t followed me, it would have been me that had been killed, not him. But then I realized I was actually furious at myself for not listening to him. For thinking I was invincible. Because if I hadn’t been so stubborn, he wouldn’t have died that night. So yes, I was responsible for his death. It is a burden I will forever carry with me and one I can never be absolved of.”

  “You should have told me sooner,” Holly said, unable to look at him. There was a rage burning in her belly at the whole situation but also a deep sense of guilt. Because though a part of her was furious that Michael and his womanizing had created a situation that had caused the death of her brother, she was also consumed with guilt that a part of her was glad Michael had survived.

  “I know,” Michael agreed. “But I was scared that as soon as you learned the details of how I was responsible, you’d hate me and never forgive my actions. It was completely selfish of me, I know that and am so sorry for it. When I returned with his body for the funeral, I simply couldn’t handle the thought of you all hating me, especially you. I didn’t understand then why it troubled me so much if you despised me…but I understand now why it did.”

  She forced her eyes up to meet his and through her tears, she saw that he was struggling too. She wanted to hit and punch him for his role in it all and for not telling her. “And why is that? We’ve always bickered in the past that surely the thought of me hating you wouldn’t have bothered you at all.” She swung her legs to the side of the bed and sat up. “Do you know what I think, Michael Drake, I think you were a coward who didn’t want to face the truth of the matter!” The anger she’d bottled up since her father and Edward’s deaths, sprouted out of her like a fountain. “It was easier for you to say nothing and not implicate yourself at all, rather than tell the truth and ensure the blame was laid at your feet! I cannot believe that you let everyone think he died in a stupid drunken fight, alluding that he’d saved your life, but never going into the details to truly show that you are only alive today because of him!”

  He slowly pushed back from his chair and stood. “I know I can’t go back and change anything. But if I could, I would gladly give my life for his. Edward was always a better man than I and he would have lived a far better life than I have.”

  “I always used to chastise you for leading him astray!” Holly cried. “You never listened. Neither of you did. If you had, Edward might still be alive. He’s dead because of you!”

  As soon as she said the words, she regretted them. But she was still too angry and hurt to try to take them back.

  “I know. The knowledge is something I will always carry with me,” Michael replied. “But before I go, I want you to know this.” He walked behind his chair and placed his hands on the top frame of the seat. “The reason I didn’t tell you then o
r before now, truly, was because the very idea of seeing the hate and repulsion in your eyes, the exact same expression that you’re now looking at me with, terrified me. And the reason why it terrified me was because, I’m in love with you. A part of me has been for years, even though I refused to acknowledge it for a very long time.”

  Holly took in a shaky breath as his words hit her. He loved her? How dare he drop such a thunderbolt on her after admitting he’d been lying for years. “You bastard…” she ground out. Why would he tell her now that he loved her? And damn her traitorous heart for leaping at his words.

  Guilt flooded her. She should be wanting his heart on a platter over his role in Edward’s death, not feeling light headed with the thought of his love. What was wrong with her? She had to be the most disloyal sister on the planet to be in love with the man that was responsible for her brother’s death.

  Oh God. She loved him. How could she have let herself fall in love with him? She felt sick.

  “I know I’m a bastard,” he replied. “and I know I neither deserve or will get my love reciprocated, but I had to explain why I didn’t tell you sooner.”

  A knock sounded on the door and both of them jolted, almost forgetting where they were.

  Michael strode over to the door and let the doctor into the room, motioning toward Holly.

  Holly wondered if the man could fix a broken heart.

  “I will wait in the hall, until I know you’re fine,” Michael said, looking over at her. “Then I shall sort out the mess downstairs and the Pembrooks—trust me, they won’t be bothering anyone again. I will organize for you to be taken safely back to London when you’re fit to travel and then you can trust that I won’t bother you again.”

  He bowed to her, and there was such a look of longing and wistfulness on his face, that Holly had to fight the urge to call him back. As desperately as a part of her was telling her to forgive him, she didn’t think she could.

 

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