His to Hold (Regency Scoundrels Book 1) (24 page)

She couldn’t let Antonio kill him. Not in such a cold-blooded way. Her instincts took over and, putting all her weight behind her, she shoved Mallory off balance just as Antonio discharged his pistol.

They went crashing to the ground. The sound of the shot had been so deafening that Elizabeth’s ears still rang. She couldn’t feel any pain, so she assumed that Antonio had missed altogether, except for the fact that she had blood on her hand.

“Damn, no! Don’t you die on me! I love you, Mallory! You can’t die on me. It can’t end like this,” she pleaded, pulling him against her. She stared up through a haze of tears, coupled with the smoke that billowed around her.

Antonio was lying a few feet away from her, with his eyes frozen in a surprised expression. He was by all appearances dead. She exhaled. A lone woman stood with a discharged pistol in her hands. She had shot Antonio.

It was Mary.

“Dear God in Heaven. Is he alive?” she asked, dashing toward Elizabeth.

“I do not know,” Elizabeth answered quickly.

She did not know what to say, for Mary was unlike any other woman that she had ever met. Soft yet strong, she was a force to be reckoned with, and it looked as if she had taken out quite a few of the enemy pirates.

Mary knelt down beside her, and gently prodded Mallory with her hand. “If I’ve let him die, I’ll never forgive myself. Your Grace?” she asked softly, when that didn’t get any results, she shook him vigorously, and said, “Mallory St. Martin, you crazy bastard, you wake up right now! Do you hear me? Your mother will never forgive me, if I let her last surviving son die!”

Mallory let out a long agonized groan, and then fluttered his eyes open.

Elizabeth’s head was a jumble of incoherent thoughts that she couldn’t quite string together.

“What did you say?” she asked, feeling her stomach plummet.

Her hands began to tremble, and she bit down on her lower lip to keep from crying out in frustration. He had lied to her! She had given herself to him, without even knowing who and what he was. She was a fallen woman.

“Elizabeth,” Mallory implored, as she struggled to stand up. Once she was on her feet, she began backing away from him. He had not been shot, only knocked senseless, and if she had her way, she would knock him for another loop.

“You lied to me. You liar. You bastard!” her voice came out as a strangled sob, and she knew she was spitting fire through her eyes.

He stumbled to his feet, and she saw that his arm had only been grazed by Antonio’s shot. He tried to reach a hand out toward her, but she slapped it away.

“Please, Elizabeth. We can talk about this.”

“Talk about what? You really are a British nobleman, and not just any kind of nobleman, you’d have to be a bloody duke, for God’s sake! I can’t…I don’t know how…I can’t take this…you bastard!”

She could not believe what was going on. She kept backing away, until she slammed into Seamus. He caught her, and kept her from falling. Charles stood by his side, beaming up at her.

Teardrops were slipping down her cheeks, and splattering onto the deck. Mallory had not trusted her enough to tell her who he was.

Furthermore, he had to be a greedy bugger, if he had stolen her for her money. Any of the dukes she knew in England, were rolling in money. It really had been all about revenge.

Revenge against her father, and he had used her to do it.

She didn’t know which was worse…being wanted only for her money—or being wanted only as a means to an end.

“We can talk about this. Please, Elizabeth, I love you,” he murmured, talking another tentative step toward her.

“What is your real name?” she asked, feeling short of breath. She wondered if she was suffocating. “Is it really Mallory? Or was that another lie?”

“Just let me explain,” he pleaded.

“What is your real name?!” she screamed.

“My real name, my Christian name, is Mallory St. Martin, and that is the God’s honest truth. I am the 8
th
Duke of Chichester.”

Horrified by his confession, she struggled to remain upright on her wobbly legs.

“That was my grandmother’s family name, that’s why you knew that,” her voice sounded as if it was coming to her down a long hollow hallway.

“Aye, that is why I knew.”

Shutting her eyes, she let out a shocked gasp. She riveted her eyes on him, and tried to catch her breath.

“I hate you, Mallory St. Martin,” she spat out, just as her world tilted upside down. And for the third time in her young life, Elizabeth Woodward fainted dead away.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell her who you were.” Mary’s voice had raised another octave, and Mallory winced against it.

Ronald stood on the other side of the cabin, and gave him a look that clearly told Mallory that Ronald thought he was an idiot.

“I admit I was wrong. But I did not want her to know my true identity.”

“Well,” Mary scoffed. “Did you not think she would find out once you succeeded in dragging her to the altar? She should have told me that you had kidnapped her. I would have told her to tell you to shove it where the sun doesn’t shine. When did you turn into that man, Mallory? What happened to the man I knew? When did he disappear?

“Don’t blame Malcolm’s death on why you’re the way you are now, by giving me the sob story of how you were the second born son, and you were not ready for the responsibility thrust upon you. Pray, do not do that disservice to Malcolm’s blessed memory.

“We both know that no one could have stopped your father from gambling away everything. Even Malcolm could not have stopped it. Your father was weak from the beginning. He would have eventually gone back to the gaming hells, for he had an addiction, and the only person that could help him, was him, and Morgan St. Martin wasn’t strong enough for that.

“Fortunately, his children are stronger than he ever was. Even if Malcolm had lived, something would have set your father on his path of ruin. We both know that.”

“I love Elizabeth more than anything,” he said softly.

“Now you do, you stupid fool. But can you tell me that you wouldn’t have married her, and taken her money just to get back at her father, even if you discovered that it was a mere infatuation instead of a life altering love?”

“I do not know,” Mallory admitted. He stared at the floor, and wished that he could go to Elizabeth’s bedside.

“Of course she does not know that her bastard of a father cheated you out of your legacy, but she does know you wanted revenge against him and used her to get it, doesn’t she?”

“Aye.”

“Do you know what landed you in this mess in the first place?” Mary asked.

“My need to reclaim my legacy.” His voice was flat, and she raised her red eyebrows another notch.

“No, that wasn’t it, you silly fool. It was your lust for revenge. You couldn’t just tell her…you couldn’t be honest with her. Why, you’re a scoundrel, Mallory.”

“Please, Mary,” he said raking his hands through his hair. “I am tormented enough, without thinking about what I could have done, or should have done. I have lost my entire world.

“Elizabeth refuses to speak with me, and I fear that we shall never be able to reconcile, for you protect her as if you were a bloody lioness, and she was your cub. She still says that she hates me. I shall never be able to overcome that.

“And then just this morning, I asked Seamus to fetch Ethan for me. And then I realized after the fact that Ethan was dead. So, pray save your lectures. I shall go back to
The Red Dawn
.

“Elizabeth may have her ship back. She may rest easy in knowing that I will never torment her again. But you may relay one message to her. Tell her that I shall wait until the end of time itself to have her back in my arms. Tell her that I will never stop loving her…that she is the only woman in this world for me.”

“Then, you truly do love her?” Mary studied him intently. “Be damned revenge, or anything else?”

“I love her as Malcolm loved you.”

Mary stiffened, paled, and glanced over at Ronald, who was as quiet as a mouse. He didn’t seem bothered in the least bit, which met that Mary had told him about Malcolm.

“In that case,” she sighed heavily, “In light of that revelation, you should not have to live without her. Malcolm adored you, and because of that, because we both loved him so much, I will help you, Mallory. I shall try to talk some sense into her, but I cannot make any promises. Right now, she wants you off her ship, and wants us to join her on
The Valiant
, which I can’t really argue with, as
The Valiant
somehow managed to fare better from the final battle than
The Warrior’s Lady
.”

He beamed at Mary, and rushed forward to take her hand. “Thank you. You are an angel sent down from Heaven, Mary MacLeod.”

“I know,” Mary murmured. “And scoundrels like you, need their angels.” A soft smile played at the corner of her lips.

Mallory embraced her quickly, and planted a kiss on her cheek. Then, he saluted MacLeod and walked out of the cabin.

Soon, he would be back on his own ship, and within a day or two, they would be in England. He prayed to God, that somehow Elizabeth would find her way back into his arms, for she would never leave his heart.

*****

Elizabeth looked up from the book she held in her hands, and sighed with relief when she realized that it was Mary.

“I have met with him,” Mary said.

“That’s nice,” Elizabeth said, turning her attention back to the chapter she was reading.

Mary swooped down upon her, and wrenched the book out of her hand. “You must listen to me, Elizabeth!”

“I am listening.”

“Aye, but as soon as I mention his name again, you shall conveniently go deaf.”

Elizabeth looked her straight in the eyes, and folded her hands in her lap. “Go on, I am listening.”

“Fine, I will. Mallory still loves you. I can see it by the haggard look he wears on his face, and by the dark circles that rim his eyes. He is going mad without you. Would you have that on your conscience?”

“I do not feel anything when it comes to that…that pirate.”

“Oh, yes you do, or else you would not show such vehemence whenever someone mentions his name. You cannot stay mad at him forever. I wager your heart will not allow you to.”

“You know nothing about this. You do not know what it is like to love a man that can make you feel as if you’re going mad.”

“Oh, yes I do.” Elizabeth stared up at her, and caught Mary at a weak moment, for an expression of pure anguish had crossed her features. “I was in love with his brother. Deeply in love with him. He was everything to me,” she let out a shattering sigh. “The St. Martin men have a way of getting into your heart, and your soul,” she said, another shattered sigh escaping her. “I loved Malcom with all of my being. My world revolved around him, and losing him…losing him, was the greatest tragedy of my life.”

“I am sorry.”

“Yes, well, nothing can be done about my love affair with my beloved Malcolm. It was ill-fated, and now I find myself without the man that made fire go rushing through my blood. But I am more than content with Ronald, he is a good man with a big heart, as well you know. He has given me a beautiful son, and a wonderful life. But do not think that I don’t sometimes dream of Malcom, and wonder about what could have been. You have two paths set before you, Elizabeth. If you decide to walk down the one path, you will find an endless amount of happiness.

“You will have Mallory, and all of his extended family. And you will also have the children that you and Mallory shall create. But if you don’t walk down that path, you will be robbing yourself, and cheating your future children out of their fulfilled and happy lives.”

“You must be in jest, Mary.”

“I have never been more serious about anything in my life. Mark my words, Elizabeth, and choose wisely. For, if you do not make the right decision, you will be haunted for the rest of your life. You will die a bitter old maid.”

“I can’t marry a man that has already lied to me so effortlessly. He shall do it again, and again. It will be an endless, vicious circle.”

“Mallory is a truly good man. He hasn’t a malicious bone in his body. He would never hurt you, and he will take great care of you, and shower you with love, the likes of which only comes along in dreams.”

Elizabeth wanted to believe everything that Mary said. She wanted to throw herself in Mallory’s arms. But she could not bring herself to do it.

“He has told me too many lies. Why ever would he kidnap me when he is a powerful and wealthy duke? All for revenge? I would have understood…I know that my papa is a bastard.”

“Powerful, yes, but wealthy? I am afraid not. Mallory is struggling to keep his legacy from slipping away from him. In order to save it all, he needs your money, and I do believe that he needs to see Woodward’s face when he realizes that he has lost his only daughter—his only child, to a St. Martin. If Mallory doesn’t have that, I am afraid of what he might be driven to do.”

“What do you mean?”

“His father, the late Duke of Chichester, lost everything to your father in a high stakes game of whist, he lost the equal of hundreds of thousands of pounds to him, Elizabeth. The only thing that he was left with was a broken heart.

“Your father has graciously allowed his sisters and his mother to remain on in their ancestral castle. From what his mother tells me in missives, she has kept that fact from Mallory. She doesn’t want him to know that his father lost their ancestral seat to Woodward. She feared what it might do to him, as he’s already half-mad with his need for revenge.

“Soon, I fear your father will tell them to leave entirely, and then they will have nothing. His family has fallen, and fallen hard. But your Mallory is far too proud to take any offering of charity from his friends, and the fact of the matter is, poor Mallory can’t think the way your father thinks, and he has no talent when it comes to the gaming tables. He is determined to reclaim his inheritance all on his own.”

“It shall be a fruitless quest. My father will make sure that he never gets back what is rightfully his.”

“Aye, but you told me that your father was on his deathbed.”

“Aye, he is. And, if he dies, and leaves me everything, then I shall sell Mallory’s legacy back to him at a fraction of the price. But until then, I can do nothing for the poor bastard. I could try to buy it back for him with the money I got from my grandfather, but I do not think my papa would agree to it once he learned who I wanted to buy it for. I would be forced to beg, and I can’t exactly say I relish the thought of that, Mary.”

Mary sighed heavily, and stared at her imploringly. “If Mallory knew he had you, he would be filled with a new fighting spirit.”

“Well, he doesn’t have me, and he never shall,” she whispered. “Not now…not after what he did to me.” Her heart wanted one thing, and her pride, her damnable pride wouldn’t let her have it.

The finality of her words consumed the room, almost as if she had slammed down a gavel.

The following days passed by in a daze. Mary, Ronald and Alistair had moved to
The Valiant
as
The Warrior’s Lady
had been damaged badly in their last battle against Antonio and Chastity’s forces, and the crew was making repairs as they continued sailing toward British waters.

Elizabeth kept to her cabin most of the time. Mary had told her that Mallory was now taking care of Charles. She often wondered about the both of them, and, as time went by, she found that her anger toward Mallory was slowly fading.

How could she fault him for wanting to reclaim what was rightfully his? In an odd sort of way, she knew that her mother would have sympathized with Mallory, and that she would have been rooting for his triumph over her father.

So, she had begun to chart a course of action that she would take against both her father, and Mallory.

They were now in the Port of London, and they were bringing their ship to berth, and would be able to disembark once that was done.

She knew that
The Red Dawn
had the berthing space next to
The Valiant
. 

By the time she was done with her father and Mallory, they would each be in awe of her. She walked at of her cabin, and headed for the deck.

Soon, she would be on solid ground again, and back in her beloved England.

She felt Mary come up beside her, and sweet little Alistair was cuddled in her arms. Elizabeth smiled down at the babe, and made a funny face at him. She couldn’t wait to walk down the gangplank.

All that she wanted, was to make it back to her nearby townhouse, and sleep off her heartache. 

Suddenly, her eyes were drawn to a large figure standing amidst a crowd on the quayside. “Well, I’ll be damned,” she muttered.

“What is it?” Mary asked.

Elizabeth pointed to where her father was, and groaned. “That bastard tricked me. He was in England all of that time. Deathbed, my arse. He looks as fit as a fiddle. I guess my spies weren’t as skilled, or as faithful, as I believed them to be.”

“I don’t follow,” Mary said, kissing Alistair.

“That rather large man surrounded by that crowd, is my father. He looks healthier than I do.” She wanted to scream out in frustration, but kept her mouth firmly shut for fear of frightening Alistair. “He must have had people reporting on my movements, telling him where I would be. They’ve probably had eyes on us since we came up the coast.

“How else would he know I was coming into port today? He probably hasn’t even been in Maryland since the summer season started. He’s started to despise the heat in his dotage, I should have known. I should have read his mind. Why, he was probably in England when I left for Baltimore! I imagine he’s quite pleased with himself, leading me on such a merry chase!”