His to Keep (Regency Scoundrels Book 2) (14 page)

“Oh, you are quite mistaken. He shall live. He will live so he can kill you.”

She shivered when he burst into hearty gales of laughter. “You will be a constant delight for me, wife.”

“Indeed. Well, you’d best watch yourself, Archie. I just might be inclined to make myself a merry widow.”

“You could never cause me harm.”

“Never say never, Archie, darling.”

Chapter Nineteen

Archie hadn’t realized how vehemently she would react.

She truly did look as if she loathed him. What she couldn’t understand was his side of the story, and he doubted that she ever would. She could try to paint him as a monster, just as much as he could try to justify his actions. It was the only way he could ever put the ghosts of his past to rest. When he’d first set out to befriend Mallory and draw him into his complex web, he’d never counted on seeing the man behind the monster that had killed his brother.

Jamie had died trying to protect Louis-Daniel. Louis-Daniel had gone off to spy for the British against Napoleon, and had done it so well that he had been awarded a peerage. Louis-Daniel who had done his duty valiantly, and had lost their brother Jamie because of it, they couldn’t blame Louis-Daniel, Jamie had died thinking he was protecting his brother from Mallory who hadn’t known that Louis-Daniel was working for the British.

It had all been a cocked up mess, and it had ended up costing Jamie his life. Louis-Daniel felt crippling guilt because of it. He had held Jamie as he had died, knowing that St. Martin had killed him by accident. It wasn’t a wonder that Louis-Daniel couldn’t face his life, Archie didn’t know if he would want to face his life either considering what Louis-Daniel had seen and done. Louis-Daniel told him that Jamie had clung to him in his last moments, and had died professing his love for him, and giving him his forgiveness for siding against them, and the rest of his family. If only, if only Jamie had known the truth, he’d told Louis-Daniel that he had no regrets, Jamie hadn’t died with anger in his heart…so why couldn’t they let go of their anger?

He watched as Gemma slowly nodded off to sleep in the carriage. Her head lolled to the side. He sat up and quickly moved to the seat that Gemma sat on. Cradling her against him, he lent her his shoulder to use as a pillow. He had no choice in the matter, his mother and the ghost of a man that used to be his father had begged him to gain revenge against Jamie’s killer for years. He couldn’t deny his mother, not when her health had continued on a steady decline, soon he feared she would be as frail as his once broad chested father now was. He wanted to see the strong robust woman he remembered, he wanted to see her powerful nature again, but she’d crawled into her own protective shell where she could seal her heart against other heartbreak while at the same time living in a reality of her own making. If gaining revenge against Mallory would bring his parents back to the land of the living, then he would do that no matter how many enemies he created or how many bridges he had to burn in the process. Somehow he would get past Gemma’s fury.

Mallory would never be able to locate him. Even though they wouldn’t be far from him, Mallory wouldn’t suspect a thing.

At the moment, he was probably mounting an expedition to France, Spain or the West Indies, not even guessing what Archie had planned. Mallory believed himself to be a cunning and resourceful man, and Archie had allowed him to believe that he was the more intelligent one when it came to such matters. Mallory was in for a rude awakening, and by the time he did locate Gemma, it would be too late.

She murmured something inaudible in her sleep. He stroked the top of her blonde head. His mother wouldn’t expect him to come home with his wife. He had once vowed that there would never be a Lady Northam. Once she heard the entire story and saw how fiery and passionate Gemma was, she would respect her for that. She definitely wouldn’t carry over her grudge to Mallory’s sister. Nor would his father…who, really didn’t say much these days, Archie feared that he would become the Duke far sooner than he had planned.

In the beginning, she had wanted Mallory dead, but then, she had told Archie that she had rethought her plans of action and decided that there was only one way to properly punish Mallory. They had to take away everything that he cherished the most and put him into his own living hell.

He had done that. And now, his grudge against Mallory was fulfilled. He had taken Gemma, he had taken Mallory’s trust—and with it his peace of mind. His family would be at odds now, no doubt Mallory’s mother would go up one side of him and down the other. For his part in it, Archie never wanted to think of it again. He could only hope that Jamie could rest in peace now.

“It is a mistake I tell you. Malcolm can’t be dead! I don’t believe it, he promised he’d come home—” She moaned and awoke with a start. Confusion shone in her green eyes for a brief second, only to be replaced with cold disdain. “Where are we?” she asked drowsily. “We…we must be close to the coast.” Instinctively, she reached out and rested her hand on his arm. After a few moments, she pulled her hand back as if she’d been burned. Her refusal to let him touch her, stung badly.

“I’m taking you to my ship.” He would take her by sea back to his ancestral lands. Hopefully, she wasn’t a seafaring creature and wouldn’t know where they were sailing. If she traveled by land, she might find a way to send a warning to Archie, and she would know exactly where their destination lay.

“My brother will be following us. He will follow us straight across to the West Indies if need be.”

“Well, he can if he’d like, in fact, that’s what I expect him to do. Alas, we aren’t going to the West Indies.”

“We aren’t?” She straightened up. Her hair was mussed around her face. Her eyelids were slightly swollen, and her pallor was starting to give him concern. She was so white. She looked so weak. So bloody fragile.  

“We aren’t,” he confirmed, smiling brilliantly at her. He tried to pull her back toward him.

“Am I allowed to ask where we are going?” she asked slowly.

“When have you ever been worried enough to ask for permission before? Where did the spark go?”

“As much as you might want to think badly of me, I am intelligent enough to realize that before we were on even ground, or at least in my thoughts we were. Now, you have a child to use as leverage against me. I wouldn’t want to overstep my bounds and get Charles killed. What sort of a heartless wretch do you think I am?”

“Stop that!” he raged, surprising himself with his ferocious reaction. “Cease that blatherskite about me being cold blooded enough to kill a child. I would never harm a hair on Charles’s head. You can be as rebellious or as stubborn as you wish, without having to worry about stepping one foot out of line. I will not kill Charles for anything, do you understand me?”

“I understand what you are trying to valiantly convey. And even if I believe you, I do not believe he is safe with that mad half-brother of yours. He is French for goodness sake. Challant will kill if the fancy strikes him. Trust me on that one.”

“You are mistaken. Louis-Daniel has never spilled the blood of a child, he might want you to think he is a malicious man, and yes, he does go about things in such a way I would never even consider when it comes to making an example of someone. I do apologize for him shooting your butler. He did not however serve him a deathblow, he easily could have done that, Gemma. He usually kills without compunction when he thinks it a righteous kill.”

“Make as many justifications or excuses for him as you like—it makes no bloody difference to me. The Marquis is a dirty bastard, and you defending him will not clean his soul. He is rotten to the core, and I pity you for putting any sort of faith in him. If you ever leave me alone with him, I shall endeavor to make an example out of him.”

“I would advise against you crossing him. As long as I lay claim on you, he won’t touch you, and he won’t touch Charles. He is my brother, he will not cross me, no matter what happens.”

“As long as you are faithful to him, I will never be faithful to you.” She turned away from him, and tried her best to plaster herself up against the dark blue satin interior of the carriage. She lurched forward when the carriage came to a sudden stop.

“I am sorry for that, Lady Northam.” He reached out for her, and before she could move away from him, he had grabbed her. Pulling her to him, they locked gazes. “We are going to leave the carriages behind now, and I can’t have you seeing what lies ahead. I do apologize, Gemma, I had hoped you would remain asleep until we arrived at our destination. I am going to have to blindfold you.”

“No. I shan’t allow you to do that.” Pulling her free hand up, she cracked him a good one across his jaw. The ring she wore caught on his lip making him bleed. He winced, and looked back at her.

“Why did you do that? A dutiful wife should never strike her husband. You will not be harmed while you are blindfolded, I promise you that.”

“Bugger your blasted promises. Your word means as much as ashes to me. In fact, you mean as much as ashes to me. I wish I’d never set eyes upon you. Duxford looks like a bloody saint when compared to you. I wish…I wish I had never married you. You…blackguard!”

His eyes flared with anger. “Never again, compare me with Duxford! You will not earn any sort of affection from me when you do that!”

“Affection from you? Perish the thought. I will never give or receive affection from you, even if you are my husband.”

“Nonetheless, I shall have you in my bed. You shall do your duties as my wife, Lady Northam.”

“Then, you will have one unwilling participant.”

“I wouldn’t say that with such conviction when your eyes belie the way that you truly feel. My touch still makes you quiver, it still makes your heart beat faster, and I can feel that it makes your hands clammy.”

“I am exhausted. All of those physical reactions are common in a fagged state.”

“Perhaps,” he chuckled. “You still have not given me enough distraction.” He looked to the carriage window. “The driver is waiting for me to rap the roof of the carriage with my cane, to have the footmen open our doors. I wasn’t planning to do this, but I do believe you shall have to be blindfolded, you are too cunning for your own good, my dear.” He pulled out a silk handkerchief.

“Would you bind my hands, as well?” she asked, extending her hands toward him. He looked at her hands.

“No, indeed, I think I can keep you controlled without having to tie your hands. As I said, I would rather not even blindfold you, but I do recall your brother regaling me with tales of your picture perfect memory. He used to say that you only had to look at something once to remember it right down to the miniscule detail. I can’t have you watching our route to our destination, and memorizing it. You would try to escape me, and you might succeed.”

She swallowed. Fear etched her features. “Can’t we travel by road to our destination?”

“I am afraid not.” He shook his head. “You grew up on an island, in order to travel…” he paused. He looked stricken by the conclusion he’d just reached. “Have you never been away from Britain?”

She shook her head. “I do not care for the sea.”

“Fret not, I shall be with you, giving you comfort, and our journey will be a somewhat short one.” She closed her eyes, suddenly looking quite fatigued.

“Short one, my arse. How long will I be stuck with you? You do know as your captive, I am expected to escape you at any possible chance.”

“As my wife, you will be bound to me forever. I will never allow you to escape, and with time, you will never want to be far from my side. I do not want us to be constantly at odds, Gemma. My quarrel is not with you.”

“Our marriage is over, Archie. Somehow…someway, I shall find a way to have it annulled.”

“No,” he said, his voice fierce. “No, you shall not. You shall be my wife until my dying day…and even then…death shall not part us.”

“I can never be your wife. You are related to a Frenchman. You are a nothing but a big fat lie.”

“I never lied to you. Led you astray, mayhap, but I never lied to you, Gemma.”

“You married me to hurt Mallory.”

“At first, maybe. But as I started to know you better, I realized that I married you because I wanted to. You bewitched me, Gemma. Heart and soul.”

“You think too much of yourself, Archie. I am not going to let you seduce me. I shall never become your wife in that sense of the word. I was never a dutiful daughter or sister, you can hardly expect me to be a dutiful wife.”

He smiled at her. 

“You will learn to respond to me the way that I wish you to.”

“You are fooling yourself, Archie. I shall never accept you as my husband, I will never be the dutiful loving wife that you think you will find in me. I shall never do your bidding, in or out of the bedchamber.”

“Pray, do not make this any more difficult than it has to be.” He still held the red handkerchief, and she eyed it warily, realizing he would try to blindfold her at any instant.

A chill ran up her spine. She suddenly felt queasy. He reached inside of his coat again.

“Bold words, my dear. However, as soon as we reach our destination, I have full intentions of claiming you in the most thorough sense of the word.”

Her heart stopped. She couldn’t breathe. She placed her hand to her stay. Her cheeks burned, thoughts whirled in her head, and she couldn’t breathe. Leaning forward, she gasped for breath.

“I have smelling salts, if you require them,” he offered. He was grinning with supreme satisfaction in reaction to her discomfort. 

“Keep them. I shall take nothing from you.” She once again eyed the blindfold. “Pray do put that on me, I can’t bear the sight of you at the moment, Lord Northam.” She shuddered, when he came toward her.