by Wendy Vella
If there is trouble to be found it is you who will find it, Eden.
With her eldest brother’s words ringing in her head, Eden crouched on the rocks and then quietly crept forward. Taking the knife from her mouth, she drew in three deep, slow breaths before once again biting down on the blade. She then lowered herself over the edge and into the icy depths below. The cold squeezed her lungs and she struggled to breathe through her nose. Pushing off as the water sucked away from the rocks, Eden kicked hard to get as much distance as she could between herself and the jagged surface before the next wave came.
The going was tough and within minutes she was breathless, the cold sapping her strength.
How far would they throw him? What if she was too late and he died before she reached him, or what if she never reached him and died trying?
Her family often accused her of being overly dramatic, yet for once she had reason to be.
Fighting the currents, she swam until the cold numbed her limbs, and they grew too heavy to carry on. Drawing a shuddering breath Eden trod water and tried to battle the panic that clawed at her as she thought about her family.
I will see them again, she vowed silently.
Focusing on the cliffs, she listened to what the men above were saying.
“On three.”
“What about four?”
“Why would it be four when it’s always three?”
“Who made it three?”
“It’s on bloody three and if you say one more word I’m tossing you in after him!”
At least the idiots had chosen not to murder the man first. She would take that small blessing as a good omen. She watched their silhouettes as they swung the unconscious man back and forward.
“One, two, three!”
Eden kept her eyes on his body as it flew through the air and then sucking in a deep breath she watched it hit the water a few feet from where she floated. Diving beneath the surface, using her arms and legs, she propelled herself deeper, following the body as it plummeted.
Eden was a good swimmer, her brothers had ensured that, yet as tightness began to crush her lungs, fear made her frantic to drag in air. Engulfed in terrifying darkness, panic choked her, making it harder to descend. Surging forward with another desperate kick she reached out and something brushed her fingers.
He was wriggling like an eel, his body thrashing for release. Grabbing one of his shoulders then using the man’s body like a ladder, Eden struggled to climb down him to reach the ankles. Taking the knife from between her teeth she began to saw through the ropes. It was sharp, but they were moving downward fast and combined with her terror, it made the task almost impossible. Desperate now for air, Eden wrapped her legs around his waist, gripped him tight and sawed harder on the ropes. In seconds she had his feet free. Her lungs were shuddering and her head felt light as the man twisted, also desperate for air. They had to reach the surface quickly so she abandoned the idea of freeing his wrists and gripped the knife between her teeth once again. Grabbing his bound hands, Eden kicked upwards. Together their legs propelled them through the black waters until they broke the surface seconds later.
Eden felt some of her panic ease as she took the knife from her mouth, and gulped in a huge, breath. Wracking coughs came from the man as he tried to suck in air and spit water from his mouth. Looking to the top of the cliffs, she was relieved to see no sign of his captors.
“Quiet!”
He did as she asked, and she tracked the men to the edge of the forest.
“They are gone.”
Eden could not make out the man’s features, only hear the deep rasps of breath as he drew them into his body. “Y-your hands.” Her teeth chattered from the cold. “I n-need to untie them.” It took her several attempts but finally she had him freed.
“I— How did you—”
“W-we must reach the rocks.” Eden cut off his words. “They may come back and see us, so we need to m-move fast.”
“Yes.” His words were hoarse as they both struck out for the cliffs. Their progress was slow, exhaustion making Eden’s limbs leaden. Putting her head under the water and using her hands and feet she swam as fast as she could toward the rocks. When she came up for air, a wave hit her and she spat and spluttered for several seconds, losing her knife in the process.
“Kick!” he yelled.
Eden took a deep breath and swam with the last of her energy. Seconds later her hands touched the rocks.
“Th-thank you,” the man rasped, gripping the rocks beside her. They both dragged in huge lungfuls of air. “I-I am not sure how or why you were there, but thank you for saving my life.”
Eden’s eyes stung from the salt water as she tried to look at him. He appeared big beside her, but she couldn’t make out his features. She wondered what he had done to deserve tonight’s fate and hoped he was not some horrid, nefarious man who had done evil deeds.
“Are you a good man?”
“What?”
“I-I need to know I have not saved a bad man.” Although if she was honest, she probably would have, but suddenly it seemed important to know, which was possibly because she was feeling light-headed.
“No, I am not a bad man.”
Eden believed the clipped words.
“We must get to safety.” Looking to where Atticus waited for her above, she wondered how they would reach him. The combination of cold and exhaustion had sapped her strength, and surely the man fared little better.
“I-I cannot m-manage without your help, sir. W-we must climb up to my horse,” she said, bracing herself as a wave threatened to drag her off. One arm wrapped around her waist, and she was pulled into the shelter of his arms.
“We will make it because I will let nothing happen to you.” The deep words were whispered into her ear. “I owe you my life.”
She felt a hand on her bottom then, and suddenly she was rising. Reaching the rocks, she scrambled to her knees and then reached down to pull him up behind her. He was a big man, and she had to lean backward and brace her feet. He collapsed beside her, breath heaving in and out of his lungs.
“J-just one more climb.”
“Put your foot in my hands,” he rasped.
“Let me help you first.”
“Put your foot in my hands.” This time the words held more strength.
Eden didn’t argue, and soon she was again moving upward. He was getting weaker and it took several attempts before their combined efforts got him up beside her.
Hurrying to Atticus, she grabbed her cloak and wrapped it around the man. Reaching for her dress next, Eden quickly stepped into it. She did not try to lace it, and would have removed her chemise had the man not been here. Collecting her boots, she forced her damp stocking-clad feet into them.
“You need it more,” he said, taking the cloak from his shoulders and wrapping it around her.
“No, I have my dress, you have nothing.” She tried to push it back toward him, and then stopped as the sound of voices reached her once again from above.
“What is wrong?”
“Th-the men,” she whispered, dragging him to the wall of rock behind them. “We must hide—they are c-coming.”
Eden urged her stallion closer, so he stood before them with the cliff face at their backs. Arms reached for her, moving her right up against the horse.
“Be still now,” he whispered.
Eden laid her cheek on Atticus’s soft neck and nearly moaned as the heat seeped into her chilled body.
“Thank you.” He whispered the words into her hair, his breath briefly warming her scalp. “I should be dead.”
The words were fact and made her shiver. Had she not saved this man, he would never have woken to a new day. Never have loved or laughed again. She wondered if he had family. A wife or children?
“Of course he’s bloody dead, how could he not be? Coming back was foolish, and I’m the biggest fool for letting you drag me with you.”
Scared they would be found, Eden moved
closer to the man, her face now wedged between his chest and the horse. One of his hands wrapped around her waist as the voices above drifted down to them. His breath was warm against her damp cheek, rapid puffs of air as he struggled to control the sound in the night air.
“He’s dead I tell you!”
“Do you think we should go down to make sure?”
“Make sure of what, you idiot? How the hell could he have escaped? His hands and feet were bound, and we tossed him as far as we could. He’ll be fish food now.”
The man stiffened in anger, and Eden gripped the front of his shirt, fearing he may do something to alert the men to their presence.
“But I’m sure his lordship wants proof.”
“And we’re telling him we saw his body floating on the surface. Now unless he’s suddenly sprouted gills and fins, Syd, he’s dead, so come on. My belly aches, I’m so bloody hungry. Besides, his snootiness is probably sleeping between some wench’s thighs by now. He usually has a different one each night, so I’ve been told.”
Eden listened as the voices grew weaker, tracking them until they had left the area. Only then did she move, breaking free from the comfort of the stranger’s arms.
“P-put your foot on my hands.”
“You first,” he said.
“No. I’m sure you are injured, whereas I am just c-cold.”
Ignoring her, he picked her up and tossed her onto Atticus’s back, and Eden heard his sharp hiss of pain. Then, using the rocks, he climbed up behind her.
“Home, Atticus.” Eden urged the horse up the steep track as two large arms wrapped around her waist.
The ride was slow due to the loose ground underfoot and the narrow path. Eden stopped briefly at the top to listen. Hearing no noises, she urged Atticus into a gallop. It was a ride she had undertaken many times in her twenty-three years, but she knew that never again would she travel this path without memories of this night.
“Faster, boy!” Eden urged the stallion as her passenger slumped against her. Following the base of the mountain, she veered right and galloped hard. Minutes later she reached the Sinclair family home.
“W-we are safe now,” she whispered, sliding to the ground when Atticus stopped. The man’s legs were unsteady as she helped him down, and he now leaned heavily on her. Pushing open the worn front door, she started calling for her siblings as the man slumped against her.
Chapter Two
“Where the bloody hell have you been, Eden? You should have been home hours ago!”
The eldest of the seven Sinclair siblings stalked through a door at the end of the hallway, his long legs closing the distance between them in seconds. Tall and dark, with a scowl that seemed perpetually etched on his handsome features lately, her big brother was the man she had turned to for support at a young age after realizing her father could offer her nothing but pain.
“Dear God, what has happened?”
He ran the remaining few feet as he realized she was not alone. He quickly took the weight of the man who was slumped at her side.
“He is unconscious, Dev. Please, we must help him.”
“You are both wet, sister. What has happened?”
“I will explain, I promise, but first we must see to him.”
“What madness has befallen us now?”
These words were from Cambridge Sinclair. The other middle Sinclair appeared beside her, reeking of ale and a woman’s scent. She intercepted the sour look Dev gave his brother.
“Hurry, Cam, help us,” Eden urged him.
He did not hesitate, as she’d known he wouldn’t. He may be a drunken idiot, but family was important to him. Between them they carried the man into Dev’s room and laid him on the bed, rolling him gently onto his side.
“Eden, what has happened?” These words were spoken by Essie, Eden’s elder sister, who hurried to the bed.
“No time for explanations, Essie, we need blankets and hot water and bring your supplies. This man likely needs your help,” Dev ordered. Eden fell against his side as he reached for her, giving her a brief hard hug.
“Are you hurt in any way, Eden?”
“No, I am well, but I need to explain—”
“Not now. I will have your tale but first, we must see to the man. But while we do, you can change out of your wet clothes, as your teeth are chattering.”
“Yes, of c-course,” Eden said.
“If you can manage it in your inebriated state, Cambridge, get some light over here, so we can tend this man,” Dev snapped.
“I’m not inebriated!”
Eden knew what was coming. Her brothers fought constantly over Cam’s behavior. “And now is not the t-time to start arguing, brothers.”
She heard the snap of Dev’s teeth, and Cam stalked away to get the lamp. He placed it on the table carefully, and then the brothers reached for the man, turning him gently onto his back.
“Christ, it’s the Duke of Raven!”
“Are you sure?” Eden looked from Dev’s shocked face down to the man.
His eyes were closed, black lashes forming crescents on his pale cheeks, dark hair damp and tousled. His face was made up of sharp edges and angles that were more pronounced as he lay motionless. Even leeched of color, it was a face that demanded a second look.
“Dev?” Eden accepted the blanket Cam wrapped around her before she looked at her eldest brother. His jaw was clenched, eyes fixed on the Duke with an unwavering intensity that he usually only reserved for disciplining his siblings.
“Did you rescue this man tonight, Eden?”
“Dev, let me—”
“Answer the question.”
She nodded. Her brother seemed agitated and Eden sensed that her arriving on the doorstep with an unconscious man was not the entire cause. It took a great deal to unsettle the eldest Sinclair, but suddenly the tension in the room had become so thick it cloaked each of them. Dev’s pupils had dilated, and both Essie and Cam were focused unwaveringly upon him.
“Dear Lord, so it’s true!”
“What’s true?” Eden whispered.
“I will tell you later.” He shook his head. “First we must remove his wet clothes, and check for injuries.”
Essie moved first, running from the room to collect her medical supplies.
“Go, Eden. You need to get warm, or Essie will have to tend you also.”
“Yes, Dev.”
“Thank God the others are in bed,” Cam said, running a hand through his hair. “Having the unconscious Duke of Raven in the house would have set them twittering.”
Eden agreed. The three youngest Sinclairs would have been beyond excited at having the man they had grown up hearing tales about so close.
With a final look at the Duke, Eden followed her sister. Once in the room she shared with Essie, she stripped off her clothes, dried her hair as best she could, and rubbed her body hard before slipping into her nightdress and thick dressing gown. Looking longingly at the bed, she could not remember a time she’d felt so tired. Exhaustion seemed to have turned her legs to jelly, and her arms felt heavy. She would sleep soon, she thought, slipping her feet into her slippers, but for now, she had a duke to see.
Dev stood watching from the foot of the bed while Essie was bent over him, studying the dark, angry bruise on his chest. His eyes were still closed and he lay so still she could believe him dead.
“His color is strong, so I don’t fear for his life,” Devon said. “Can you detect anything, Essie?”
Shaking her head, Essie stood up. “There are a few bumps and one of his ribs is cracked. He has obviously taken a thorough beating, but nothing life-threatening appears to be wrong with him. However, I think Eden should listen to his lungs and heart.”
Flicking her hair over the opposite shoulder, Eden placed her ear on the Duke’s bare chest. Ignoring the smooth planes and muscles beneath her cheek, she closed her eyes and focused. There were the usual sounds working in the body, but nothing irregular.
“Everything sounds
as it should,” she said, feeling breathless at the close contact with the Duke and not understanding why. Eden was surrounded by men, and none of them had ever made her breathless.
“Getting him warm is important now.” Essie carried two flannel-wrapped bricks forward. Together she and Dev placed them beside the Duke’s body then tucked the covers around him once more. “I have water heating and will make him a tonic to aid his healing, and if he has not woken soon, we will attempt to pour some down his throat.”
“I do not doubt your skill, Essie, but do you think because he is a duke we should call a doctor?”
“No doctor, Dev, not yet,” Eden said. “Let me tell you what happened and then if he is not awake after that we will make a decision about the doctor.”
“You come and get warm, Eden. I’m sure it will be a miracle if you don’t take a chill from your adventures this evening. Imagine if you arrived in London with a bright red nose.”
“I’m all right, Essie.” Eden followed her siblings into the small parlor off the bedroom. She sank into Devon’s large chair before the fire.
The Sinclairs had two servants, Josiah and Bertie Hemple, who had been with the family for years. Josiah’s wife had passed and Bertie had never married. They were wonderful men who cared for the siblings as if they were their own.
“You’re chilled through, Miss Eden.” Bertie handed her a mug of tea while Josiah draped a blanket over her legs. The brothers then left the room.
Cam and Essie settled into seats, while Devon remained standing beside the fire, his large presence reminding Eden that now she would have to answer for her actions this night.
“Begin your story.”
“We were taking a last run, Atticus and I, after leaving Mrs. Radcliffe’s cottage.”
“Yet you knew I would be unhappy with your choice. Especially knowing the danger the cliff pass presents at night.”
“Let her speak, Dev.”
Eden sent Essie a grateful nod before continuing. “I was just about to return home when the sound of voices reached me.”
“Thank God you could hear them, at least that gave you time to get out of sight.” Devon ran a hand over his face.