The Heart of a Duke (30 page)

When he started to thrust, hard and deep, her nails dug into his back. Forget songbirds, the sounds she made were a serenade to his heart. His arousal grew as he increased his pace, his breath ragged against her temple.

Her body arched as she began her climb toward climax. He tried to slow himself down, but she molded her hips to his and arched against him, matching her movements to his rhythm. Her eager response heightened his arousal, and he deepened his thrust, holding her close. He felt her heart pound against his. Eventually, she cried out, clutching him tighter, her damp cheek buried in his chest.

He groaned, his hands gripping her hips as he thrust a few more times, feeling something wild and primitive building within him. Slow was better, but good lord, fast and hard was a close second. He poured himself into her, breathing in deep pants as his passion climbed. He was surprised to hear his own cry of release ripped from him as his body arched and jerked. With a final grunt, he collapsed on top of her. He lay there, waiting for his heart rate to return to normal and his passion-dazed senses to settle.

After a few minutes, she tapped his back. “Please, move. You are quite heavy, and the ground is hard.”

“Well, then it is a good thing I am no longer,” he smiled, having no complaints about falling in love with a forthright woman. He summoned the energy to roll to her side. He slid a hand beneath her shoulders and tenderly drew her close, cradling her against him. “Will you look at that? It was not a gray-winged wagtail wormer, after all.”

“Oh, what was it?” She rolled her eyes as she drew her gown down, and settled herself more comfortably against his chest.

“It was a Peeping Tom.” His eyes laughed into hers. “Ogling my Lady Godiva.”

She punched him playfully on the arm, her laughter joining his.

A much better memory than tears. He would carry it with him tomorrow when he left. Hold it in his heart forever, which he hoped would be a long, long time.

D
ANIEL
had been gone for over a week, and Julia regretted her decision not to join him. She had never been a woman to sit home. That is the wife Edmund would have preferred. Once again, she shuddered at the thought of the disastrous marriage she had narrowly escaped. She would have failed Edmund miserably, but her failure would have been well met by his being a duplicitous, murderous bastard. Their marriage would have been like trying to keep a rock afloat. It was best it sank before ever being launched.

She shook her head free of Edmund. For the hundredth time, she wished for Daniel’s safe return. To distract her. To love her as he had promised. She smiled wistfully, her body warming at the memory of his declaration and the look in his eyes when he had spoken.

She needed to get her mind off of her aching need for Daniel or she would go mad, but that was like trying to forget a missing limb. In a doubtless futile attempt to do so, she had planned an excursion into town.

She took the coach, as it was another dreary fall day, gray and spitting rain. Huffing out a breath, she drew the lap blanket over her legs and settled deeper into the velvet cushions, wishing Emily had accompanied her. Then again, these days Emily was in a rather foul mood herself. A separation would be good for them both.

When the coach rolled to a stop, she frowned, for the ride had been far too short to reach the village proper.

Curious, she drew aside the curtain and peered outside. Through the foggy mist, she noticed that they were at the crossroads to Adgate Road, which would take them onto High Street. She saw no reason for the stop and worried something was wrong with either the horses or the carriage.

The door opened and she glanced over, expecting a footman with an explanation. Her eyes widened and she straightened in her seat, her hand going protectively to the collar of her woolen cloak.

“Hello, Julia.”

Edmund
.

Her damn discarded duke. The two-faced Janus. Her pulse raced, and she struggled to calm racing nerves. She refused to cower. “I have nothing to say to you. Please tell my driver that I would like to be on my way.”

He simply laughed, and she could only watch astounded as he bounded into the carriage and brazenly settled himself into the seat across from her. “We will be on our way shortly, but there is a change of destination.”

Ignoring him, she straightened and rapped her knuckles against the back panel.

“No one will answer. I gave them leave to take a short break, for I required a moment of your time.”

Everyone rushed to do the bidding of a damn duke,
she silently seethed. “Well, I do not want a moment of yours,” she snapped, cringing at the peevish tone in her voice. She drew a deep breath, and spoke in a calm manner, the antithesis of what she was feeling. “Please, we have nothing to say to each other. I must ask you to leave.” She refused to spar with the man. Had forgotten her sabre and gloves. Perhaps more importantly, the Manton revolver.

Edmund snorted. “Don’t you sound properly aggrieved. Like a maligned innocent, but we both know otherwise, don’t we?” He slipped off his leather gloves and lay them across his lap, crossing his legs as if settling in for a leisurely chat. “I doubt my brother would approve either. All the more reason to remain. As I am sure you have been apprised by now, we never did see eye to eye on things. Never will, but that is all to end soon.”

“If you are not inclined to leave, Your Grace, then allow me to do so.” She slid forward but froze when he leaned over and slapped a large hand against the door, his ducal ring mocking her. His eyes were hard, mere slits.

“You always did have a mutinous streak. It is time you learned your place.” He arched an imperious brow.

She paled and slid her shaking hands beneath her blanket, hoping the tremors in her legs didn’t convey her terror. She moistened dry lips. “What do you want, Edmund?”

He leaned back, his calf with its elegant silk stocking swinging casually. He straightened his cuff and flicked a piece of lint from his nut-brown jacket. “I want you to listen very carefully to everything I have to say because if you do not, I promise you, you will rue the day.”

She swallowed. “I am listening.”

“Good. Shortly, we will leave this coach, and you will accept my escort into mine. I will make the explanations and you will go along quietly. Should there be a scene, it will not go well for you. My men will carry out my orders and it will be your men who will suffer the consequences. Do you understand?”

She nodded. It was as if his words had sucked all the air out of the carriage, and she needed to concentrate on taking small breaths.

He appeared to become aware of her pallor, and his eyes narrowed in warning. “You are not one to swoon, so please do not adopt the odious habit now.”

If she had felt faint, his condescension snapped her out of it. Bristling, she found the voice she had lost. “Where are we going? What do you want?”

“You know damn well what I want, and you are going to help me get it.”

He was wrong. She didn’t know what the devil Edmund sought other than some possibly incriminating papers that once belonged to his late father’s solicitor. But she did know enough to be petrified. Perhaps if she helped Edmund to retrieve what he was so desperate to acquire, she might just survive this nightmare. If he wanted her to beg, she would do so. “Please, Edmund, let us discuss this in a rational manner. I am sure we—”

“We cannot.” His eyes, the compelling moss green, were a perverted mirror of Daniel’s. “It is time to go.” He slid on his gloves, uncrossed his legs, and eased forward.

“Why do you hate him so?” she breathed.

He paused and his smile was slow and insidious, never reaching his eyes or warming his expression. “Let us just say he has something I want. But now we are even. Because now I have something he wants.”

“But why—

“Enough!” His hand shot up, and she recognized the rage in his eyes, a flame that lit and died when she eased back into the cushions of the seat, cowering.

“Behave and no one gets hurt. Of course, it is your decision, Julia, but I doubt you will be so foolish as to jeopardize your servants.” He smiled triumphantly.

In her fear, she was oblivious to the explanations Edmund gave to her driver and footman. She could not resist a small cry when his gloved hand vised around her elbow, but one sharp look had her biting her lip so hard she drew blood.

She stumbled going up the steps to his coach, and his arms were there, lifting and pushing her inside. She scrambled onto the seat and buried her unsteady hands in her cloak.

Edmund climbed in behind her and the click of the lock echoed in the cabin.

She lifted her chin and ventured to speak above the pounding of her heart. “Where are we going?”

“To meet my brother. Where else?”

When he flashed Daniel’s smile, she closed her eyes, unable to look at the perversion.

She marveled at the strange irony that the one person whom her heart had been yearning for every hour of every day over the past week was now the last person on earth she hoped to see.

T
RAVEL
weary and covered in a layer of road dust, Daniel barreled up the stairs to Taunton Court. He anticipated sweeping Julia into his arms and kissing her senseless. His plans changed at the sight of Taunton pacing the front foyer. His smile faded, and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up.

Something was wrong
.

“Bedford has Julia. He waylaid her coach on the way into town this morning. Told the driver he would escort her the rest of the way. They never reached town.”

“I will find her.” Daniel turned on his heel, but Taunton caught his elbow, holding firm.

“Wait, damn it,” Taunton’s voice thundered. “This is my daughter we’re talking about. I am going with you.”

“I am going, too,” Brett declared, having followed Daniel inside.

There was a sharp intake of breath, and Daniel turned to find Emily, her face pale and her hands twisting her handkerchief into a roped coil.

“Fine. We will all go,” Daniel said, not wishing to waste precious minutes with an argument.

Robbie entered on those words and surveyed the scene. “Where are we going?”

“To Bedford Hall,” Daniel gritted out.

“Now? I thought we were going to Hertfordshire. I can’t believe Shaw’s son mailed your father’s papers to your cousin. It would have saved us saddle sores and a bleeding fortune if your cousin had pulled his head out of bird guts long enough to post a letter on to you.”

Daniel was deaf to Robbie’s grousing. “Bedford has Julia. We have to go now. We’re wasting time.”

Robbie straightened to his full, imposing height, his humor gone. “We’ll need new horses.”

“Already saddled. I was waiting for the cavalry to arrive. I am taking a few extra men as well,” Taunton said, his eyes on Daniel.

“Fine.” He wouldn’t need them. The rage propelling him gave him the strength of a one-man army.

I
T WAS A
short stop at Bedford Hall, and they were on the road again. Edmund’s pompous butler had informed them that His Grace was visiting their cousin in Hertfordshire. His Grace had left word for Daniel to join him as soon as possible, for they had matters to discuss. As if he were a pawn on a bloody chessboard.

Edmund liked his games. He was forcing Daniel to move to protect his queen. He had an hour-long ride to seethe over it. He sought comfort in the fact that he had retained more players than his brother. He also hoped to meet up with the men whom he had hired to follow Edmund. The more players on his side of the board, the better his position for attack and to save his queen.

Julia.
His heart thudded her name. He would refrain from killing Edmund only if she was untouched. Otherwise, they would indeed be digging a hole in the Tanners’ back pasture, the one reserved for inferior stock.

It felt like an eternity had passed before they crossed the border into Hertfordshire and the perimeter of his cousin’s property. He signaled the others to rein in their horses, not wanting his cavalry to charge in with pistols drawn. Living with Edmund, he had learned there was something to be said for stealth.

“Is this your cousin’s?” Robbie asked.

“His property is down this rutted lane. An iron-gated entrance should be on the right, and woods and bushes border the perimeters. Tie the horses to the gate, and let’s assess the scene before moving in.”

“Aye, aye, Captain,” Brett said. He had discarded the sling, but his right arm was still splinted and wrapped in a heavy bandage. Daniel warily eyed the arm, but made no comment. Brett had heeded Daniel’s advice about staying home as well as Daniel had heeded his.

God knew how they ran a successful business together when neither listened to the other. Their success must lie in their blind, single-minded optimism. Or simply a string of good fortune. Right now, he hoped for a dose of both.

After tying the horses, they eased the iron gates open and proceeded inside. A distant noise brought them to an abrupt halt. Heart in his throat, damn near choking him, his hand closed over the Manton revolver in his jacket pocket. Unlike Julia, he had only fired hunting rifles and was a poor shot at that.

A man stepped into the clearing, hands raised. “It’s Riker. Hold your fire.”

He recognized one of the men he had hired to follow Bedford. “It’s all right.” He frowned when Riker jerked his head to indicate movement behind him. Following Riker’s gaze, he found Brett, Taunton, and Robbie with pistols aimed with deadly intent at Riker’s head. “Put those things down before you kill someone,” he hissed.

“How the hell do we know friend from foe?” Robbie muttered.

Riker shoved his tweed cap back from his ample forehead. “Come this way. There are things afoot. I sent a man back to Taunton Court, did you cross paths?”

“No, I received a more personal invite,” Daniel muttered as he followed Ricker into the thicket.

Riker led them to a group of a half a dozen men, two with their hands tied behind their backs, sporting bruised faces and truculent looks.

“What’s going on?” Taunton said, his sharp gaze raking over the bound men and the detritus surrounding them. Long coiled ropes were curled up beside a wooden crate with the lid cracked open.

“Somebody was planning to have a celebration. That’s gunpowder.” Riker indicated the crate.

“Bloody hell,” Daniel breathed. “He was going to incinerate the place.” He strode over to one of the men, caught him by the lapels of his jacket and jerked him close. The man stank of body odor. “So you like fires, do you? Did you ignite the last one at Lakeview Manor?”

The wiry man did not respond, just looked mulish, white lips pressed tight. With a snarl, Daniel shoved him toward Robbie. “See that he talks.”

“My pleasure.”

The sheer size of Robbie had the man babbling. “I didn’t do nothin’ here. Nothin’.”

Robbie grasped him by his upper arms and lifted him so the man’s toes barely brushed ground. “Lord Bryant asked you a question. I suggest you answer it.”

“I did. I set it. ’Twere just timbers. A frame. No harm done.”

His cohort cursed. “Shut your trap, Monie.”

Robbie snarled at the speaker, who heeded his own advice, snapping his mouth closed and retreating. “So you were going to take this manor to the ground as well? No harm there?”

“The toff said t’would be empty. No harm done. He’d come tell us when all was clear.”

“So why are you lighting it up?” Brett asked, curious.

The man’s eyes scanned the group, then cast a longing look toward the crate of powder. “I like . . . I like watching it explode and then burn. It’s grand.”

“Bloody hell.” Robbie abruptly released him, stumbling back as if he had the pox.

“Bedford was going to light the whole place up. How many of us does he plan to kill? The man is mad,” Brett said, uttering a curse beneath his breath.

“Be careful when you go inside. Curtis is right, he is deranged. We will surround the perimeter and slowly move in behind you,” Taunton said. “But you need to go. He has Julia.” His usually vibrant blue eyes were shadowed, and he looked years older.

“He’s right, Daniel,” Brett said. “Distract him or keep him talking until we can find a way in.”

Robbie snorted. “Shouldn’t have any problems with that. You talk circles around me, getting me to do your bidding whether I want to or not.”

Daniel clenched his jaw, appreciating Robbie’s stroke to his confidence. His friend was right. He was a good negotiator. He had convinced the most taciturn of New Englanders to trust in him. He hadn’t had success with Bedford in the past, but the stakes had never been this high. He would succeed or die trying.

The men divided into groups. Some walked farther down the thicket, others going in the opposite direction.

Robbie, Brett, and Taunton followed Daniel. A vast expanse of green lawn swept uphill to the front entrance. The imposing sandstone house capped the incline with peaked roofs and a balcony lining the length of the second story. To gain entry, it required walking across the lawn or down the lane, in full view of the house. Daniel needed to go in alone and distract Edmund long enough to keep his attention away from the windows so that the others could follow without being seen.

He gave Robbie and Brett a deliberate look, and then turned to Taunton.

“I am trusting you to bring my daughter home, son.” Taunton clasped his shoulder.

“I will, sir,” he said. Taunton’s confidence in him, and the conviction in his own tone helped to ease the vise of fear squeezing his chest.

He closed his hand over the Manton and strode into enemy territory, fervently praying that he was not the sacrificial pawn in a final game of Edmund’s as he moved across the lawn, exposed.

Daniel lifted the heavy brass ring looped through the mouth of a feral lion, and slammed the doorknocker again and again. Its noise reverberated in the silence that followed. When no one answered, he tried the doorknob and found it unlocked. It was a trap, but he had no choice.

He stepped inside and a guttural growl of rage greeted him.

He froze, his heart stopping until a feminine shriek and the racket of pounding feet severed his immobility.

Julia.

He barreled into the front drawing room. Empty. He careened through a cavernous dining room and then the library, cursing each room and the time wasted until he stepped into the dark-paneled study and located his cousin. Glasses askew, a cut cheek, Theo was bound and gagged in a corner chair. Despite his binds, he frantically jerked his head toward a door standing ajar at the back of the room.

Daniel raced over to his cousin and loosened the ropes binding his hands. Leaving Theo to deal with his gag, he bolted through the door indicated and bounded up a back staircase.

“He has a knife. No guns, a knife,” Theo panted from below. “She stabbed a hairpin into his hand to get free.”

Daniel did not break stride. He took the stairs two at a time, heart in his throat. Knives, no guns. Edmund couldn’t shoot him. It bought him time to negotiate. As to his brave warrior, of course Julia would find a means of escape. He should never have doubted it.

He barreled through too many empty rooms. For God’s sake, his cousin was a bachelor, why the devil did he have such a grand home?

Another scream rent the air and his heart stumbled. Other cries followed. A struggle. He entered what appeared to be the master bedroom, and French doors gaped open, leading out to a balcony.

He sprinted through them, stopping short at the sight before him.
Julia.

Alive, and straining against Edmund’s grip. One of his arms cinched her waist, the other circled her neck, a mean, serrated knife pressed against her throat.

Julia’s fingers scored his forearm. Half of her hair tumbled loose in long, curling strands. Her eyes widened with fear, and she breathed his name as Daniel released his grip from the revolver and held up his hands in a nonthreatening gesture.

“I am here, Edmund. I got your message. It is me you want. Let us make that exchange. Let her go. Me for Julia.”

Edmund emitted a mad, scoffing laugh. “Do you think me that big a fool? She’s not going anywhere, and neither are you. Not yet. Do you have it?”

“The papers Abel Shaw wanted me to have? No, but they were sent to Theo. He did not give them to you?”

“That little bird-beaked bastard, he lied. He said he mailed them to you.”

“Well, then he did.” Daniel kept his voice calm. “I am sure we can get a hold of them in Boston. But if you kill me and the papers are addressed to me, you will never acquire them, Edmund. You would be wise to think on that.”

“Enough! Just be quiet.”

He swallowed when Edmund tightened his grip, and Julia cried out. Edmund frantically glanced around the balcony as if seeking an escape.

Daniel edged closer.

“Stop,” Edmund barked. “Do not move any closer. Why the hell did you come back? I thought I got rid of you the first time. Why didn’t you stay away?”

“Edmund, what the devil is this about? You are jeopardizing all you have and for what? What did I do to provoke this? I have been gone for the last decade.”

Edmund’s face was thunderous. “What
did
you do? What
didn’t
you do? You have been the bane of my existence my whole life. Father nattered on about you until I was damn near mad from hearing about how brilliant you are. God, how I hate you. It is inconceivable to believe that I would ever stand by and let you strip everything away from me, not when I was groomed to have it all.”