Dark Hero; A Gothic Romance (Reluctant Heroes) (49 page)

Grandfather’s valet was there, watching over his charge with
a devotion that was touching, considering the earl’s haughtiness. The valet
held the old man’s wrist in the way Donovan instructed. He nodded to Kieran
that all was well and resumed his post near the bed.

Kieran stood at the foot of the bed, watching grandfather as
he nodded off. The old man wasn’t as fearsome as Kieran expected. He’d heard
about the imposing Earl of Greystowe from his father. But now twenty years
later, the man seemed feeble rather than ferocious. Kieran was feeling things
he didn’t wish to for his grandsire; pity, concern and God forbid--affection.

He had no desire to become an earl. But Donovan had
challenged him when he’d laid out the miserable conditions he witnessed in
Ireland recently. As the tenth Earl of Greystowe, Kieran would take his
grandfather’s seat in the House of Lords, and have some say in the governmental
policies regarding his people in Ireland. He didn’t aspire to become an English
lord, but if it meant he could buy back his father’s estates and fulfill his
destiny as the clan chieftain, so be it.

Kieran’s gut churned. Something horrible was in the offing.

He left his grandfather to the servant’s care and went
downstairs.

As he moved through the house, the feeling of impending
disaster thickened and solidified in him. His first instinct was to find his
sister.

He searched for her in the usual places, first the sunny
yellow salon, then on to the kitchens. Not finding her there, he checked the
count’s laboratory, and finally the library.

“Kieran?” Elizabeth looked up from the book she was reading.
“You feel it, too, don’t you?” She set the book aside at his entrance.
“Something is happening.”

“We must stay together.” He said, glancing at his sister’s
personal guard. Kieran was relieved by the two pistols on O’Leary’s belt and
the dagger strapped to his thigh. Even so, he had the feeling it wouldn’t be
enough; nothing could avert the evil about to descend upon them.

Elizabeth came to stand beside him. Kieran placed an arm
about his sister, wanting to reassure her. He held the guard’s questioning
gaze. O’Leary, although silent whenever the countess was talking with her
guests, heard much of the conversation around him.

With a nod toward Kieran, the man stalked to the window and
peered through the louvered slats at the estate grounds. He shrugged, giving
Kieran the clear message that all appeared well. “Looks to be a thunderstorm
rolling in from the west, Mr. O’Flaherty. ‘Tis not unusual this time of year.
It makes the atmosphere feel tense, my lady.” The guard explained.

As if in answer to O’Leary’s comment, thunder rumbled above
their heads.

Taking Elizabeth’s hand, Kieran led her to the chaise and
sat down beside her. “I think we should stay here and . . . concentrate.”

*******

Elizabeth clutched at her brother’s hand, relieved by his
presence. She had been enjoying solitude for a sparse few hours in the late
afternoon as her house guests were all otherwise occupied. She had felt
inexplicably frightened and she could not understand why. She wished Donovan
were here. He was busy with the cane harvest, and although he insisted she was
more important than his business affairs, it would be silly to draw him away
from the mill over a mere feeling she could not even justify.

“Close your eyes.” Kieran instructed, holding her good hand.
“Try to clear your mind. Don’t force an impression, just stand at the shores
and let the impression come to you, like a wave rolling in from the sea.”

It was easier said than done. Elizabeth took steadying
breaths in order to calm herself and focus instead of letting her thoughts race
haplessly about like spooked horses.

“Michael!” They said as one, and gazed at each other with
horror.

*******

Michael was on all fours on the ground.

His head was ringing, and he saw the proverbial stars behind
his eyes.

A dark shadow loomed over him from behind.

He’d been out riding all afternoon. He stopped along the
road and crept into the bushes to piss. He’d been minding his affairs when
something hit him on the back of the head, knocking him to his knees with
blinding pain. He’d been ready to sum it up to an errant coconut hurled at him
from one of the mischievous monkeys on the island, but the stench reminded him
of a larger animal that had rolled in pig shit recently. There were wild boars
on the island.

 His eyes focused on the shadow before him, the only clue as
to the entity behind him.

Michael’s gut slithered and sank.

It wasn’t an animal behind him. He saw the clear outlined
shadow of a man.

His assessment proved true as a leather strap was cinched
around his neck.

*******

“Michael is in danger.” Elizabeth stood and rushed to her
guard. “Michael was out riding. Something must have happened, Gus. You must go
look for him.”

“I cannot leave you, my lady, until the master returns. If
you’ll wait here, I’ll go speak to Giles.” The guard replied in a soothing
mien. “We’ll send the footmen and the stable lad, Johnny, out to look for him.
I’m sure he’ll turn up, my lady.” Looking to Kieran, the guard’s tone became
terse and commanding. “Stay with her until I return.”

Kieran nodded. The guard left to find the butler. He placed
a consoling arm about his sister. “He could have just fallen from his horse.”

Elizabeth frowned at him. He patted her hand, realizing he
wasn’t fooling her.

*******

Thirty minutes passed.

Forty five minutes ticked by.

Finally, the minute hand of the ornate clock on the mantle
signaled the passage of a full hour since the guard had left them alone.

“He’s been gone a long time.” Kieran remarked, staring at
the door. He stood and stepped away from his sister. This was strange. It
shouldn’t take this long to give orders to the butler. O’Leary wouldn’t leave
Elizabeth for a moment longer than was necessary. Kieran peered out into the
hall. There was no sound of servants chattering. No sound whatsoever for a busy,
bustling household full to the brim with servants and guests.

Kieran closed the library door and went to the fireplace to
retrieve a poker, feeling like a boy with a wooden sword. He wished his
brother-in-law were here. Donovan was a former pirate, a seasoned warrior.
Kieran was an apothecary.

“I’m going with you.” Elizabeth said decisively. She was not
the type to sit by and allow others to act when there was trouble brewing. “Oh,
why did he have to go out riding alone?”

“It’s an island.” Kieran remarked. “As long as he didn’t go
into the interior jungle, he’ll be easy enough to find.”

They moved to the door and hurried down the long corridor.
There were no noises coming from the kitchen. No clattering of dishes or the
continual chopping and clanging of pans that evidenced the cook was ruling over
his tiny kingdom. There was no chatter of footmen or maids echoing from the
downstairs rooms, as would be the case if they were absorbed in their duties.
Elizabeth stopped in the billiard room to close the window casements as the
skies opened up for a late afternoon downpour. In the absence of servants,
Kieran helped her close all the windows as they moved through the progression
of lower rooms.

In the foyer outside the salon, just before the main
staircase they encountered Mr. O’Leary’s body. Thunder cracked above and shook
the rafters as Kieran knelt beside the man and felt his throat. “He’s alive.
Someone knocked him out.” He said, indicating the shattered remnants of a large
vase and tangled flowers on the floor near the guard’s head. What he didn’t
tell his sister was that O’Leary’s pistols were missing from the man’s belt.

He rose, clutching the handle of the brass poker firmly in
his fist. He listened. The rain pummeled the house, adding to the sick feeling
of isolation growing in his abdomen. He heard muted weeping. He tilted his
head, trying to locate the sound. The doors to the salon were closed.

Elizabeth was staring at the closed doors, coming to the
same conclusion as he.

“Wait.” Kieran grabbed her elbow to prevent her from going
to the salon.

At that precise moment, the front door burst open. Donovan
came charging through it, his hair plastered to his head, his linen shirt
drenched from the sudden tropical shower. He had a machete clutched in his
fist. “Lizzie!” He breathed. His free arm wrapped about her.

He kissed her hair. While she was turned away, hugging her
lord despite his sodden condition, Donovan’s eyes sought Kieran’s over her
shoulder. “An indenture escaped in the fields. I believe he’s headed here.” He
stepped away from Elizabeth and gestured for Kieran to come near him, out of
his wife’s hearing.

Kieran indicated O’Leary’s unconscious body behind them, at
the entrance to the hallway. “There were two pistols on his belt before. They’re
gone, my lord.” He whispered.

Donovan nodded curtly, absorbing the information.

*******

Elizabeth stepped close to the whispering men, unwilling to
be separated from her husband now that he was present. Donovan stopped
whispering at her approach.

“Michael is missing. Gus sent the footmen to search for
him.” She informed him. “And something odd is happening in there.” She pointed
out the closed salon doors. They were never closed, not since she had become
mistress here.

Donovan put a finger to his lips. He crept noiselessly to the
door and tried the knob. The doors were locked. Donovan knocked. A door was
unlocked and opened a few inches.

He held up his hand, gesturing for Elizabeth and Kieran to
stay where they were. He stepped forward carefully and poked his head inside.

“You twisted whore’s son!”

Elizabeth’s heart chilled. She knew that voice. It was the
embodiment of every childhood fear she possessed.
Fletcher was here
?

As the heavens rumbled above, the door panel in front of
Donovan exploded. His body jerked. He shoved her back as he scrambled away from
the door.

“Donovan!” Elizabeth shrieked. His sleeve was quickly
turning crimson.

“I’m fine.” He told her through clenched teeth, his face a
grimace of pain. “The ball grazed my bicep.” He sat on the stairs and held his
right arm up, bending the elbow. She sat next to him, and could see the slit
where the bullet tore his shirt, but there was no hole in his flesh, just a
long, ugly gash.

“I want you to go up to my room and lock the door. Kieran, go
with her. I have reinforcements coming from the mill.” As Donovan spoke he tore
his shirt sleeve away, revealing a waterfall of blood flowing down his arm from
the gash. He rolled the fabric quickly, wrapped the strip about his wound with
one hand and tied it, using his teeth to tighten the knot.

He’d done this before, Elizabeth realized. He didn’t look
the least bit dismayed by his wound. “Why is my stepfather here?”

“Go upstairs, Lizzie. Let me deal with this.”

“No. I will not hide in the closet. My brother is with him,
isn’t he?”

Donovan did not respond. He merely looked at her and then at
Kieran before nodding.

“Our brother is in there?” Kieran snapped. The fury rising
in Kieran’s eyes told her that he was not going upstairs to hide, either.

Before Donovan could stop him Kieran turned and vaulted to
the doors.

“Kieran, wait!” Donovan shouted. Elizabeth echoed his plea.

The door opened as he reached it. Kieran stood face to face
with Sally, the downstairs maid. The poor woman looked terrified. She asked in
a high, panicked voice. “He wants to know if he hit his lordship?”

Kieran turned to Donovan. Donovan nodded and gestured to his
arm.

“Yes.” Sally relayed the message to the man inside. “There’s
an awful lot of blood.”

Demented laughter came from within. “Get back inside, wench,
or this boy will bleed.”

The door closed. This time, it did not lock. Whether Sally
left it so intentionally or merely forgot to lock it again, Elizabeth did not
know.

She rose from where she had been seated on the stairs,
intending to rush into the salon with Kieran to help Michael. Donovan’s big
hand shackled her unbound wrist.

His eyes held a fury mirroring her own. “You are not going
near that monster.”

“My brother is in there, you great ape! Get out of my way.” She
jerked and twisted her good wrist in his hand in an attempt to shake free.
Donovan held her firmly.

“Stop this.” He hissed, seizing her by the shoulders. He
shook her slightly, as if trying to bring her to her senses. “There is nothing
you can do but become a target and I will not allow it.”

Elizabeth kicked him in the shin with her soft slipper.
Seeing it had little effect, she stomped on his foot. He didn’t budge, he just
glared at her.

“Michael is in need of rescuing at the moment, not me.” She
returned tartly.

“He wants Lady Elizabeth to come in.” Sally said,
interrupting their argument as her head peeped out the door again to convey
Fletcher’s wishes. “He says he’ll shoot one of us if she doesn’t give him an
audience.”

Outrage crossed Donovan’s features. “Who’s in there?”

“All of us.” Sally murmured in a rushed whisper. “Giles and
we three maids. The footmen and Pearl were sent out to search for Master
Michael, my lord. After they left, Michael came home with that one holding a
gun to his ‘ead. They went in there and rang the bell. They kept ringing, one
of us would answer it, and then, well . . .” Sally made a wild gesture with her
hand, “By the end we was all in there with ‘im.”

“Stay calm.” Donovan told the maid. “We’ll get you out of
this. How is Michael?”

 Looking to Elizabeth, the maid swallowed hard. “He’s
bleedin’, mum. Roughed up bad, he was, before they made it here.”