For the Love of a Soldier (16 page)

“Please, since I married your sister, my days of gallivanting are over.” Brandon narrowed his eyes on Garrett. “You can’t tell her. You want Beau and Will to grow up without a father?”

Garrett shook his head. “You like to live dangerously, don’t you?”

Brandon shrugged. “I’m not the one with the bull’s-eye on my arse.”

Garrett cast a glance at the carriage but saw no sign of Alexandra. He turned to retort, when two more riders trotted out of the copse of trees lining the unpaved road.

“There’s the cavalry now,” Brandon said. He addressed Garrett. “I did hire some Peelers to further investigate the attacks in the city and to assist me in keeping your arse safe. We had to separate leaving the city but caught up to you just as you dropped the second man. You didn’t appear to need our assistance, so we let you handle matters. Good thing we did, or this one would have slipped free.” He nodded to the body slumped across his saddle.

“Many thanks for your belated arrival.” Garrett eyed the tall policemen, commonly dubbed Peelers after Sir Robert Peel, who while serving as Home Secretary organized the first police
force. Havers took charge, directing the men to collect the bodies and load them onto their horses.

“You’re welcome.”

“Now that you have my thanks, you need to get the hell out of here. It’s due to you that I was attacked in the first place.”

“Me?” Brandon frowned. “What are you talking about?”

Garrett paced, his hands balling into fists at his side. “They know me, Bran. They know my habits and my haunts. They knew when I didn’t go home from Hammond’s that I had gone to your place. They knew I’d flee the city, and they were waiting for me. Watching your place. They don’t give a damn who they sacrifice in order to get to me, so you need to protect your own. I need you to go home and ensure Kit and the boys are safe.”

“Christ,” Brandon breathed. They both fell silent for a moment, feeling the weight of this implication. Brandon was the first to speak. “The Peelers haven’t dredged up any information from the first attack, but they are investigating a few leads. I also did as you requested and met with Hammond. He will help in any way he can and gave me a copy of his guest list.” He withdrew a folded piece of paper from his jacket pocket and handed it to Garrett. “You need to review it and draw up a list of names of those men who want your head on a platter and possess the money to have it delivered.”

“Pleasant thought,” Garrett muttered, slipping the list into his own pocket.

“Don’t forget the women.”

Both men turned at Alexandra’s words. She had disregarded Garrett’s directive, unlocked the door to the coach, and stood in its frame. However, she still clutched the pistol by her side. For someone who was reluctant to pick up arms, she now appeared just as reluctant to relinquish them. “Let’s not forget those scorned sisters, mothers, or wives. You might have practiced sainthood recently, but you didn’t always.”

Brandon glanced at Alexandra and then at Garrett, a delighted grin curving his lips. “Right. Let’s not forget, hell has no fury like a woman scorned.”

Garrett narrowed his eyes on Alexandra. He should have known she would have listened to every word they’d said. Well, good. It was time they remembered what had brought them
together. Forgetting it had nearly killed them both. He clenched his jaw, anger over the recent ambush coursing through him.

“Now then, our manners have been remiss,” Brandon said. “You need to introduce me to your companion.”

Garrett crossed to the carriage and assisted Alexandra down, hissing in her ear as he did so. “Hold on to your pistol. If he gets out of hand, shoot him.” With reluctance, he set her on her feet and faced Brandon. Only after seeing Brandon’s expression did he belatedly realize the oddity of his assisting a young man down. “
Miss
Daniels, this is the Earl of Warren.”

At the introduction, Brandon’s expression cleared and he stepped forward to bow low. “Miss Daniels, the pleasure is mine.”

A flush colored Alexandra’s fair skin as she transferred her pistol to her left hand in order to offer her right to Brandon, who took it and pressed his lips to her fingers.

Garrett scowled. Brandon was behaving as if they were in a formal drawing room and not surrounded by the dead bodies of the men who moments ago tried to kill them. He was an idiot.

“It took great courage to warn Lord Kendall about the threat to his life,” Brandon said. “If he has not voiced his gratitude for doing so, please accept mine on behalf of my wife. She would mourn his loss, for Garrett’s her only brother. For Kit’s sake, I try to keep him alive.”

“I take back my thanks for your help,” Garrett muttered. “You should have let them shoot me, then I wouldn’t have to listen to you anymore.”

Grinning, Brandon lowered his head to speak in her ear. “Keep the pistol close. If he gets out of hand, you have my permission to shoot him. I promise to break you out of Newgate.”

Alexandra’s gaze swung to Garrett before she replied. “I think I understand why you two are friends,” she said dryly.

“It was a mental lapse on my part,” Garrett said. “I’ve been paying for it ever since.”

“It’s charity on mine.” Brandon smiled. “The man has no one else.”

“Except for his sister?” Alexandra said, looking at Garrett.

Garrett lifted a brow at the question. She appeared doubtful he had a sister. Did she think he was spawned from the devil?
“I do have one, you know. And unfortunately, she married Warren. Now I’m stuck with him. But now that the immediate danger has passed, I think it’s time for him to leave.”

Brandon winked at Alexandra. “I’ve overstayed my welcome. Despite the circumstances, it was nice meeting you, Miss Daniels.” He bowed before her and turned to Garrett. “I’ll catch up with you in a week.”

Garrett walked Brandon to his horse. The other two men moved to mount their own horses where the bodies of Garrett’s attackers lay strapped across the front of their saddles.

Brandon would deliver them to the magistrate and see what information they could glean from their family or friends. “This one’s name is Dickie.” He pointed to the man Havers had shot. “The other one said as much before he died.”

Brandon nodded. “Perhaps after this second failed attempt on your life, one of these men’s cronies will step forward with some details, for a price.”

“Pay it,” Garrett said.

“Of course. I’ve also frequented White’s and circulated different addresses for your whereabouts.”

“Has anyone asked after me?”

Brandon snorted. “You’re a wounded war hero and a survivor of the Charge of the Light Brigade. You make a brief appearance in town after a two-year absence, then abruptly disappear again. You’re all anyone speaks of or asks after.”

“Bloody hell,” Garrett swore.

“Exactly. I will keep an ear open for any persistent inquiries, but”—Brandon shrugged—“I’d start with Hammond’s list. It’s a lead, the only one we have right now. She saved your life.”

Garrett’s eyes drifted toward Alexandra, who had wandered back to wait before the carriage. “Yes, she did.” And she had agreed to stay with him despite the danger she risked in doing so. He recalled Gus’s words and he lowered his voice. “One more thing. Find out all you can about a Viscount Langdon. He holds lands in Essex.”

Brandon lifted a brow and following his gaze to Alex, he nodded. “I can do that.”

“Good.” Garrett faced Brandon. “Then as we discussed, you and Kit will join me at the manor. I think it is the safest
place. Only those loyal to me know of its location, and most are my men, veterans, willing to fire a shot on my behalf.”

“Kit’s been going mad sequestered in the country. She’ll be overjoyed to play chaperone, or rather delighted you requested one.”

Garrett grimaced, thinking of his half sister and Alexandra together. He then met Brandon’s gaze, suddenly serious. “You need to be careful. Stay away if you fear you’re being followed and it’s not safe.”

“I’ll keep my eyes open.” His gaze leveled on Garrett. “You, too. Watch your back.” He clasped Garrett’s shoulder again, this time giving it a squeeze.

“I always do,” Garrett murmured, stepping away to give Brandon room to mount. He watched his friend ride off. When he disappeared from view, Garrett turned to Alexandra. Now more than ever, he needed to be vigilant.

Today had reminded him of the cost incurred should he let his attention slip. Not only was his life in danger, but Alexandra’s as well. He remembered the fear in her eyes, but overriding this memory was the feel of her in his arms and the taste of her on his lips. No, he refused to let anything happen to her.

He ignored the warning that perhaps he spread himself too thin. He was entering battles on three fronts, one against an enemy seeking his murder, another ancient and ongoing with his stepfather, and now this third one. He’d have to review his strategy very carefully, but it couldn’t be helped. He wanted Alexandra and was determined to have her. Brave, beautiful, and responsive, she gave him something to live for, and he hadn’t had that in a long, long time.

T
HE
acrid odor of gunpowder drifted to Alex. Images of their attackers’ dead bodies assaulted her.
Murderers
. Men who had no compunction about killing others to line their own pockets.

She felt as if she had stepped into a nightmare in which she was just beginning to comprehend its dangers. In her zeal to agree to Kendall’s arrangement, she had forgotten one pertinent fact—someone wanted the man dead.

This nameless adversary also had no compunction about killing anyone else who stood in their way. She pressed a hand to her heart. What good was a monetary reward or independence if she was dead?

She had naïvely assumed her greatest danger lay in her attraction to Kendall.

A noise had her glancing up. A breeze whipped through Kendall’s dark hair as he stood watching her. For an endless moment, their eyes locked before his dipped to her mouth. She sucked in a sharp breath.

How could she have forgotten their kiss?

For a fleeting moment, the gun in her hand, the highwaymen
outside, and her escalating fears had all vanished. In the midst of life-threatening danger, nothing had existed but the two of them and the feel of his lips on hers. He had pulled from her feelings she didn’t know she possessed, yearnings, aches, and needs. Desire.

She lifted her hand to press them against her swollen lips. She had tasted danger and excitement, the essence of the man himself. Disturbed, she yanked her hand down and gave her head a sharp shake. It was time to recall Kendall’s list of faults. Damned if she could remember one.

His heroic actions only compounded the matter. Damn him for his foolhardy courage. It could have gotten them both killed. And damn him for saving her life and his. How was a woman to resist such a man? She condemned Warren as well, cursed him for showing her Kendall’s friends were willing to risk their own lives to save his. Only a man worthy of being saved would earn such trust.

She tightened her fingers over the handle of the gun, as if it could offer protection from the man as he approached her. Kendall’s long legs made quick work of closing the distance between them. Her heart thundered and unconsciously she moistened her lips. Her problem was formidable and as Kendall neared, it grew larger by the second.

“If I promise to sit across from you, will you relinquish the gun?”

G
ARRETT’S GAZE DIPPED
pointedly to Alexandra’s white-knuckled grip of the weapon, battling a mixture of amusement and wariness. Amusement at her combative stance and wariness because there was another shot left in her gun. Enemy fire alone hadn’t killed or maimed all the soldiers during battle. Gus’s lost leg was testament to that.

A flush climbed her cheeks. She pointed the barrel to the ground, gripped it with two fingers and held the weapon out to him as if she offered him a dead sacrifice. “Please, take it before I shoot one of us.”

He grinned as he accepted it. “You did fine, but I knew you would. You’d make an excellent soldier.”

“Yes, well, not if I had to open my eyes during battle.” She
glanced away and her voice lowered. “Or if I had to shoot anyone.”