Once a Rake (Drake's Rakes) (38 page)

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Authors: Eileen Dreyer

Tags: #Historical Romance

BOOK: Once a Rake (Drake's Rakes)
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Ian stopped so fast that Raul almost got in a lucky punch. “Sarah?” Ian asked.

“Give me the man, Ferguson,” another man suggested, gingerly stepping forward to where Ian kept Raul upright by means of a hand around his massive throat. Sarah wanted to laugh. Raul was battered and whimpering from Ian’s punishment. And his penis was still hanging out of his pants, now limp and ridiculous.

Ian let loose of him, and the man crumpled to the floor. Before Sarah realized Ian had moved, she was lifted and settled into a large lap, surrounded by the smell of rain and horse and lord, she swore she smelled heather.

“What is it you need, Sarah?” Ian asked against her ear, those wonderful arms cushioning her.

“Hold me,” she begged. “Make me believe you’re safe.”


Me?
” he demanded, pulling her even closer with hands that shook as if he had the ague. “They couldn’t hurt me. It’s you who is hurt. Oh, my wee love, I’m so sorry.”

Sarah looked up. He looked terrible, bleeding and bruised and torn. She had never seen anything more beautiful. She thought her heart might simply burst with joy.

“She told me you were dying,” she whispered. “Her knife was so bloody.”

He rested his forehead against hers. “Do you think I’d ever desert you, lass?”

That was then the tears came. Silent, steady, soaking her neck. “No,” she said. “I believe I don’t.”

But she had. The tears grew to sobs.

He actually groaned as he stroked her back, stroked her hair, rocked her against him. “Oh, my lass,” he whispered, and she could hear the torment in his voice. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t here quicker. I died a thousand deaths when I opened that door.”

“You didn’t merely open the door, Ian,” she said with an untidy sniff. “I believe you demolished it.”

She could see tear tracks on his cheeks, which made her want to rock him in her arms, to soothe him with soft hands and murmured words.

“I had to save the woman I loved,” he told her. “Did I get here in time?”

She quickly looked around to make sure no one heard. “Hush, Ian.”

He gently rested his forehead against hers. “I love you. I loved you. I will always love you. You are the only one who will ever have my heart,
mo cridhe.

He lifted a hand to cup her bruised face. She turned into it and kissed his palm. “Yes, Ian,” she said, knowing how much it meant to him. “You got here in time.”

Something in him lightened. His eyes warmed, and he dropped a gentle kiss on her lips. “Come along, then, lass. We need to get you warmed up and decently dressed, and have that cut looked after.”

“Yours as well,” she said, letting him help her to her feet.

She was wobbly, but she stayed upright with his help. Someone handed her a blanket, and she wrapped herself in it. It was the first time she had a chance to see all who else was in the room. Chuffy was there, of course, and another man, handsome, lean, above middle height with dark curling hair. Sarah hadn’t seen him in four years.

“Alex Knight,” she said with a sore smile. “It is good to see you again.”

“You know each other?” Ian asked, looking back and forth.

“Alex helped instigate an insurrection at Last Chance. His name is still sung among the litany of saints during Lent.”

His expression oddly closed, Alex bowed. “Apologies that it took us so long to get to you, Lady Clarke.”

Everyone else had already gone, she assumed. There had been a lot of noise in that room. Of course, with the cacophony her berserker had been making, she couldn’t really assume he had much help. She wished she could just sit here holding onto him, making sure he was whole and well and safe.

“Will your name be cleared?” she asked, looking up at him.

His smile was wry. “I canna say yet, lass. The fact that I brought the flask back made a difference.”

“You
did
have it then.”

His eyes darkened. “I should have given the thing to her. I could have protected you.”

Sarah didn’t even need to answer. Both of them knew that nothing either of them had done would have swayed Minette Ferrar.

“Where is she?” Sarah asked.

“Safely tucked away. And Alex has the flask. When you’re rested and warm and comfortable, we’ll discuss it.”

She clutched his arm. “Don’t leave me.”

She saw an entire universe of suffering in those bottomless blue eyes. “Not for a minute.”

Not until his name was restored and he went home, anyway.

She refused to think that far. She had him now. Burrowing into his side, as if she could steal a bit of his strength, she followed him up out of the darkness.

Chapter 20

 

But of course, he did leave.

Sarah found out the next morning when she woke in a room at the end of Ripton Hall’s family wing. Sunlight poured through leaf green curtains and skipped across a room decorated like a bower. The glossy hardwood floor was strewn in Aubusson carpets of pale yellows and blues, and gold gilt graced the white furniture. The walls were hung in paintings of gardens and a child’s drawings of horses.

Sarah had never seen such a room. She had never once so much as dreamed of one. She wondered which of her sisters she had evicted. She wondered what they looked like. She had only ever known Lizzie.

She should have luxuriated in the unfamiliar comfort, the warmth, the peace. She reached over to the other side of the bed and felt her heart finally shatter. When she had fallen asleep the night before, Ian had slept alongside her, his arms around her so she could rest. The sheets were now cold. He hadn’t even said good-bye.

She shouldn’t have been surprised. She had felt her time with him slipping away throughout the hours since they had climbed out of that cellar the morning before. Through interrogations, a doctor’s care, and finally a visit from Lord Drake, all the while holding hands where no one could witness but the Rakes, who would never break their confidence. But Ian had to leave, and she had to let him.

She shouldn’t have been surprised and she wasn’t. She even understood why Ian had left without another word. It hurt too much. It hurt too much now, a universe of hurt. A hurt so crushing that the only way to breathe was to press her nose into the pillow that still held his scent. A hurt so trenchant that the only way to survive it was to remember that for at least a few days, a few searingly alive hours, she had been able to say that she had been loved by a berserker.

If she had been any weaker, she would have followed him. She would have done anything to be with him, ruin his marriage, destroy his honor, shatter his peace. But if her life had taught her nothing else, it was how to be strong. How to hold on to her self-respect, no matter what. Now that life had to teach her how to love without price. It had to teach her how to carry Ian quietly in her heart where he would always be hers.

In the meantime, surely no one would belittle her for expending a few tears. After all, no one would ever see.

She must have missed the knock on the door, because suddenly it was open, and a visitor was peeking in. “Are you awake yet, Mrs. Malaprop?”

Quickly scrubbing away her tears, Sarah slowly sat up. “Well, if it isn’t Jack Absolute,” she greeted her sister.

Guinea gold hair swept up in an elegant knot and clad in a periwinkle Indian muslin round gown, Lizzie looked every inch a duke’s daughter. Sarah was surprised at the rush of emotion she felt at seeing her again after so long.

“Oh, Sarah,” Lizzie cried, hurrying forward. “You’re all over black and blue. Can you tell me what happened? There has been a lot of whispering, but the most I know is that you and Ian Ferguson came here and ran afoul of some very bad people.”

Stepping up on the stool, Lizzie surprised Sarah by indecorously climbing onto the bed and sitting across from her, hands in her lap. “I understand you saved Ian’s life.”

Sarah did her best to smile. “And he saved mine.”

But she would not be able to tell Lizzie how. It had been decided the day before that only the simplest details would emerge. Desperate criminals caught, and Ian hopefully on his way to vindication.

“You missed quite an adventure,” Sarah told Lizzie. “Where were you?”

As if Sarah hadn’t suffered surprises enough, Lizzie blushed and ducked her head. “Oh, nowhere interesting. But I am dying to hear about your escapades. Pip said that you scaled the balconies like a mountain goat. I wish I had seen it.”

Sarah did grin this time. “Where is Pip? She had a part to play in this tale.”

Lizzie didn’t answer right away. Sarah was surprised at how suddenly stiff Lizzie looked. “I, uh, asked Pip to give us a bit of time. So we could…talk.”

Sarah froze. There were tears in Lizzie’s eyes, and she was clenching her hands together. Sarah could never remember such a thing.

“Lizzie?”

Sarah was going to ask what was wrong. But suddenly she knew. She could almost hear the words piling up in Lizzie’s head. The same words that had been collecting in hers since she had read the note and realized that Lizzie had known all along that they were sisters.

Suddenly there was so much to say; so much neither of them knew how to say. They had known each other since their twelfth birthdays, and yet they had never said the important things. They had neither admitted the truth they had obviously each known.

Lizzie looked so anxious, as if terrified of saying the wrong thing. Sarah didn’t know how to help. What to do. What to say. So they sat there almost knee-to-knee, the two of them, silent and stiff and wanting so badly to speak.

And then, neither knowing how, they were hugging each other, and tears were silently streaming down their cheeks. They would never be sisters who giggled and talked and teased. They only had this small time to share before Sarah returned to her own world. But for those long minutes in the privacy of Sarah’s room, the two sisters shared what they had never been allowed to before.

“I am so very glad you understood my note,” Lizzie finally said, straightening to brush tears from her cheeks. “I wasn’t certain you remembered.”

Sarah straightened as well. She refused to let go of Lizzie’s hand. Reaching up to tuck an errant wisp of hair behind her sister’s ear, she smiled. “Don’t be daft, Liz. How could I forget Jack Absolute?” Free hand on hip, she lifted her head. “‘No, faith, to do you justice, you have been confoundedly stupid indeed.’ I don’t believe anyone else ever spoke the line with such panache.”

“I didn’t know what else to do. Chuffy and Lord Knight seemed so very anxious that no one could learn who sent the message.” The smile died in her eyes. “But someone did learn, didn’t they?”

Sarah frowned. “I wish I knew who. Has anyone said anything?”

Lizzie shook her head. “Everyone is very upset.”

Sarah squeezed her sister’s hand. “Well, it all turned out well in the end. Ian is well, I am well, and a very bad person is in the custody of the crown.”

Just the thought of Minette and her knives sent a shudder through her. She hadn’t even realized she set her hand against her chest until she felt the sting along the knife slash. She would go to her death, she thought, with the memory of that cellar catching her in unexpected moments.

“They all left this morning,” Lizzie said softly. “Ian and Chuffy and Alex and Drake.” She frowned. “They took Ronald to London with them. I have no notion why, since I cannot imagine how Ronald could be involved. But then, there is quite too much that I am not being told. Even mother has been frustrated.”

Lizzie usually maintained a calm face, but now Sarah could see her impatience. “I suspect there is much we will never be told, Liz. I suspect it is safer that way.”

Lizzie nodded. “I suspect. I must admit that I am frustrated that I missed all the excitement…although I would prefer you didn’t say anything to mother, if you would.”

“Good heavens,” Sarah retorted. “Why would I speak with your mother?”

Lizzie’s smile was rueful. “She knows you are here, of course. She forced Margaret to give up her room for you.”

Sarah looked around. “I wondered.” Margaret, if she recalled, was the youngest.

“Right now, however,” Lizzie said, patting Sarah’s hand. “Mother is focused on the potential disaster to her house party.” For the first time since their childhood, Sarah saw an impish grin on Lizzie’s face. “You must know that no party is complete without Chuffy, and the princess is due day after tomorrow.”

Sarah chuckled. “I think I’ve never met another person quite like him.”

Lizzie’s expression grew serious. “Ian asked me to bid you farewell, Sarah. I don’t believe he could bear to see you again.”

Sarah could do no more than nod, tears welling again.

“You do love him, then?”

Sarah brushed at an escaped tear. “Oh, yes. I’m afraid I do.”

“I’m so sorry, Sarah.”

Sarah tried so very hard to seem content with her fate. “I remember when it was all of our goals to be a tragic romantic heroine.” Shaking her head, she squeezed her sister’s hand. “I fear it is not all we thought it would be.”

Again Lizzie surprised her. Her own eyes suspiciously damp, Lizzie nodded. “I know all too well, my dear.”

Sarah wanted so badly to ask how. She wanted to offer her sister the same sympathy. Sadly, before she could, the door pushed open again, and Lizzie’s mother stepped into the room.

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