For the Love of a Soldier (46 page)

“Oh, but I do, thanks to your incompetence. We have Nobbs in custody.” Garrett enjoyed Arthur’s surprise at his mention of the hired assassin’s name. “We have your watch, which you tossed to Nobbs to meet his demand for more money. The watch engraved with your initials and the falcon, the Brown family crest. The symbol for one who does not rest until his objective is achieved. See, I did listen to your pompous lectures on your Brown ancestry.”

Angry red blotches stained Arthur’s cheeks.

“Nobbs, seeking to spare his head the gallows versus deportation, betrayed you like the rat he is.”

“You’re mad. You forget, my illustrious family name means something, perhaps not to you, but to a magistrate. They’ll never take the word of a cretin like Nobbs over a Brown. My ancestors helped Henry the Seventh gain the throne. It wasn’t until that Boleyn whore seduced Henry the Eighth that the Brown fortunes fell. I have plans to replenish those fortunes so the Browns can rise again.”

“No, Arthur. I’m not mad. But you are. I have evidence and witnesses.
I have Alex
. Battle won.”

“I should have killed you years ago,” Arthur spoke softly.

“Why the hell didn’t you?” Garrett demanded, his composure slipping.

“Because you appeared hell-bent on doing it for me!” Arthur snapped, then pressed his hand to his temple.

Garrett fell silent. Shaking his head, he straightened and moved from the doorway. He gestured to Ned. “Take him away.”

Ned grasped Arthur’s arm but was shrugged off.

“I’m a Brown. Browns stand on their own.” He straightened his jacket and walked forward, his head held high, refusing to look at Garrett as he strode from the room.

Then all hell broke loose.

Garrett stumbled back under the weight of Ned’s body shoved into his.

Alex’s screams rent the air, piercing Garrett’s heart.

Shoving Ned aside, Garrett regained his balance and bolted into the foyer, only to stop short at the sight greeting him.

Once again, Arthur held Alex captive.

His arm encircled her neck, cutting off her scream, the other cinched around her waist. Arthur yanked her tightly to him, a feral gleam in his eyes. “Stay back!” he barked.

It wasn’t the directive, but the flash of the silver knife pressed to Alex’s throat that stilled Garrett’s hand and chilled his blood.

Christ. She must have been waiting with Brandon in the foyer. He held up his hands, giving a warning shake of his head to Brandon, who advanced on Arthur. “It’s all right. No one needs to get hurt here. Not you, not Alex. Put the knife down and let her go. It’s over.”

He kept his voice level as he had when confronting the distraught boys under his command. His heart twisted at the sight of Alex’s pale features.

“It’s not over; you’re still alive!”

Garrett’s hand shot up to stop another movement from Ned, but he kept his eyes locked on Arthur. “And so are you. For Kit’s sake, I didn’t kill you as I wished to.”

Ned lifted the revolver and pointed it at Arthur. “Just tell me when.”

Christ, two madmen. “Put down the gun, Ned. We’re still talking. Arthur mentioned his plans to replenish his family fortunes.” He circled back to his stepfather’s enigmatic comment as he followed Arthur, who edged toward the front door, dragging Alex with him. “With my death, Will gains my fortunes, not you, the title going to a distant cousin. How does that replenish the Brown coffers?”

“Because I finally have my boys! Boys who carry the Brown family blood. Boys of my ancestry. You weren’t mine! You were never mine!”

“I could have been, but for the first time in my life, I thank God you thought otherwise.”

Arthur stared at him, the knife’s blade pressing into Alex’s neck. She cried out, her fingers digging into his arm to pry it free, her eyes riveted on Garrett.

Her cry sliced through Garrett and every muscle in his body tightened, desperate to act. He looked at Alex, fighting to convey a reassuring calm. Some of the terror left her eyes, but her face remained deathly pale. For that alone, he could kill Arthur.

“No, you were always
his
. Kendall’s. I could never look at you without seeing him. And Kit was a
girl
,” he sneered the word. “What good is a girl but to breed me sons.”

Disgust filled Garrett. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Brandon stiffen. “Christ, you’re madder than I thought,” Garrett breathed.

Arthur ignored his words. “And she finally did! She had Beau, who belongs to Brandon, but then she had Will. Will is mine! The son I never had. Loyal to me, of my blood. With your fortune, he can purchase his own title. He wouldn’t sully it as you are hell-bent on doing, dragging your name through the mud so it’s black as sin and now this risky venture into trade. Don’t deny it, man. Those rumors about your plans for Kendall Ale are true. I couldn’t stand by and watch you bring this family down again, watch you squander Will’s inheritance. I needed to protect my boys before your fortunes fell and your tarnished name stained theirs.”

Garrett studied Arthur’s wild expression. His eyes strayed to Alex, who looked as stunned as he. What a bloody waste. Years of anger expended at this pathetic man who wasn’t worth a moment of his time.

Arthur turned his head, seeking the door behind him. He forced Alex backward, his eyes darting between Garrett and the exit, all the while keeping his choke hold on Alex. “Open the door!”

“Arthur, listen to me. You have two choices. Let Alex go and you live. Hurt her and you die.”

“Open the door!” Arthur bellowed.

Garrett nodded to Brandon, who moved to obey Arthur’s directive.

Arthur’s lips curled into a snarl as he looked at Brandon. “You always stuck with Kendall. Never saw how he was destroying the family.”

“Release her, Arthur. It’s over,” Garrett repeated, his voice cold.

Arthur stared wildly at Garrett and then Brandon. Emitting a savage yell, he shoved Alex from him, hurled the knife at Garrett, and whirled to flee.

Garrett easily deflected the blade, his arm swiping it harmlessly aside. He turned to Alex, drinking her in as Brandon caught her. Seeing she was safe, Garrett pursued his stepfather outside.

Havers stood with the two policemen flanking Arthur, holding him captive between them. One of the men lifted a pair of handcuffs and proceeded to secure Arthur’s arms behind his back.

Arthur’s earlier bravado had burned out. He slumped in the arms gripping him, looking like the pathetic, old man that he was.

Garrett studied his lifelong nemesis and felt nothing. “I’m not going to kill you as I’d like to. I said you’d live if you didn’t hurt Alex, and she’s alive. I don’t want the blood of Kit’s father on my hands. For those reasons, you live, and you’ll live a long, long time remembering all you could have had and all you have lost. There’s an asylum in York, far away from all my estates. Far away from me and mine.”

“You don’t understand! You—”

“No, you don’t!” Garrett cut him off. “You already had replenished your family fortunes. You had a wife who loved you, a young boy who could have, and a daughter who tried to. But you rejected them all to fulfill some perverted delusion. And for what? The legacy you now leave your ancestry, as the last surviving member of the illustrious Brown family, is the stain of madness.”

“You’ve always had it easy. Never had to fight for your birthright. You—”

“I fought for everything! Every scrap you’d toss my way until I realized you didn’t have anything to give. That you are a bitter, empty shell of a man.”

Mouth pursed, Arthur glowered at Garrett, before finally looking away. Defeated.

“Take him away,” Garrett instructed the policemen.

They led Arthur down to where Stewart had arranged for a carriage to take custody of Arthur.

Ned came forward, nodding to Garrett before joining the
police. Garrett had asked him if he would accompany Arthur on his journey, knowing Kit would not want her father to be alone. Brandon and Alex stepped forward, and Brandon gave Garrett’s shoulder a squeeze before walking ahead.

The police had protested Garrett’s refusal to bring charges against Arthur, who would have hung for the attempted murder of a member of the peerage. With the clout of two earldoms between them, Brandon and Garrett had managed to save Arthur’s neck from the noose. It was the best Garrett could do for Kit, and all he would do for Arthur.

Evening had settled, and Garrett watched the police and Arthur disappear into the darkness. He turned in time to catch Alex as she launched herself into his arms. He crushed her close, buried his face in her neck. “I love you.”

She drew back and her hand cupped his cheek. “And I love you.” She kissed him. “Let’s go home.”

“My thoughts exactly.” He pressed his forehead to hers, the image of Arthur’s knife against her soft skin a fresh nightmare to plague him. He leaned back from her and became serious. “However, before we return, there is a loose end that needs to be secured.” At her puzzled expression, he went on. “I’d like to renegotiate the terms of our agreement.”

“Oh?” Alex cocked a brow.

“Yes. You see, it appears that I no longer need your services in apprehending my murderer. However, I have little doubt that you would have single-handedly and heroically accomplished that feat had not my inopportune rescue thwarted your plans. But about our alliance, I’d like to change our arrangement into something more permanent and mutually rewarding to us both.”

“Oh, what did you have in mind? As you know, I’m always open to new negotiations.” She smiled up at him and then lowered her voice so that only he could hear her soft words. “And of late, those that are mutually rewarding to both of us are my favorite kind.”

“My thoughts exactly,” he murmured. Ignoring the remainder of his men standing but yards away, Garrett stepped back, knelt on one knee, and grinned into Alex’s suddenly watery gaze. “Alexandra Langdon, will you marry me?”

Alex’s smile wavered and she blinked back her tears, her
response almost drowned out by the animated hollers of his men. “Yes, yes, I will.”

“Buss her a good one, Capt’n, an’ seal the deal!”

Grinning, Garrett stood. He heard Brandon’s laughter and his men’s hoots of encouragement, but he didn’t need any prodding. To the delight of their audience, he snatched Alex off her feet and swung her in a circle. His kiss was filled with the joy that exploded within him. When he drew back, he set her on her feet and let his eyes rove over her beloved features. “Now let’s go home.”

She was his and no one could ever take her away from him again.

“My thoughts exactly.” Laughing, she echoed his earlier response and looped her arm through his as they began walking. “And since I no longer have to focus on escaping, or upholding my part of our bargain, I can concentrate on tying up my own loose ends.”

“Oh, and what are those?”

“Well, when I wasn’t cursing Arthur, planning my escape, or waiting for you to rescue me, I had a lot of time to think these last few days. And I was wondering about something.”

“Oh?” Amused, he grinned. “And what is that?”

“Why did you follow me from the card table at Hammond’s after I lost to you?”

Surprised, his smile disappeared and he stopped. He lifted his gaze to his men behind them and then returned it to rest on her. “It was your panicked expression when you realized you had lost.”

She stared at him.

“It reminded me of the boys under my command before they rode into battle. I couldn’t save them, but I thought I’d be damned if I’d be the ruination of another innocent.” He shrugged. “I didn’t need the money, and you looked as if you did.”

“So once again, you were saving me?”

“I was.” He grinned. “Little did I know that saving you would save me.”

“Oh, Garrett.” She rested her hand on his heart. “We were fated to be together.”

He caught her hand and pressed a kiss into her palm. “Looks like.” He brushed a stray wisp of hair back from her temple
and let his fingers linger. “If we hurry, we could get started on making a tribe of boys. I’ve heard practice makes perfect.”

Smiling, she slid her arms around his waist. “I might have heard that somewhere as well. There is only one problem.”

“What is that?”

“I refuse to have three boys named Rogue, Rake, and Debaucher.”

He pursed his lips. “Fine. We’ll have twins, a girl named Verity and a boy named Trouble.”

She shook her head with a laugh and slipped her arm through his as they started walking. “Let’s start with one at a time. I’d like a little boy with raven black hair and slate gray eyes and we’ll name him Garrett Melrose Brandon Sinclair.”

He stopped dead. “Brandon? Absolutely—” He got no further.

Alex flung her arms around him, stood on tiptoes, and planted her mouth firmly on his, kissing the rest of his denial from him.

He momentarily resisted her embrace before his arms tightened around her. Groaning, he crushed her to him, his complaint forgotten in the pure joy of once again holding Alex right where she belonged—close to his heart.

Sometimes thinking was not good.

Feeling was best.

S
HE
knew what they said about her.

Dumped by a duke. Bedford’s forgotten fiancée. The hushed murmurs circulated in a widening pool of ripples. The betrothal contract was still good, just yet to be honored. If the man hadn’t wedded and bedded her yet, he never would—or so pledged some of the wagers filling White’s infamous betting book. Others proved more generous, wagering on the year, or decade, of the pending nuptials.

Long after the news should no longer have been grist for the gossip mill, it still managed to turn the wheel. After all, she was Lady Julia Chandler, the daughter of an earl, an heiress and renowned beauty. But that was yesterday. Today, she was a fading flower, waiting and wilting at the ancient age of three-and-twenty.