Sinful (Hot Regency Romance Novella) (8 page)

The man swung the pistol up. The muzzle of it
smashed into the side of Lyan’s head. He recoiled and blood flowed
down his face from a gash in his temple. Estelle’s heart leapt in
terror. For her entire life, she had feared being under a man’s
power. She’d feared being helpless.

The dim firelight glinted on something as the
assailant’s right hand flicked away from the side of his coat.

A knife. He’d pulled out a blade.

She was not going to let Lyan be killed.

She didn’t have scissors in her hand this
time, but the fireplace poker was in reach. Their attacker had his
attention on Lyan. Estelle lunged forward, wrapped her hands around
the iron handle, and struck.

“Blast!” The man jumped back, avoiding her
blow. But Lyan punched him, grabbed the hand that held the blade
and snapped it back. She heard a sickening
crack
and the
thud of the fallen knife. She saw the man’s wrist dangle limply for
one second—then Lyan threw him to the floor as if he weighed no
more than the feather pillows.

Lyan pressed his foot down on the
blackguard’s throat.

* * * * * * * * *

Chapter Six

He had come so close to losing her again. So
close to losing her forever. Lyan had known, as Nick Swan had
leveled the pistol at Estelle’s heart, he couldn’t live without
her. He had barely survived for ten years without her. If she were
gone forever, he knew his heart would die, too.

Lyan increased the pressure of his foot on
Nick’s neck. He knew he wouldn’t have the Judas beneath his boot if
it weren’t for Estelle.

Though Estelle’s chest rose and fell with
quick, deep breaths, she was yanking a cord from the bed curtains
to tie Nick’s hands. She was still a survivor; in Lyan’s eyes, she
was even stronger than she had once been. The only thing she had
turned her back on, when she had left the stews and him, was her
heart.
His
heart was filled with admiration for her.

Estelle hurried forward with the cord. “Who
is he?”

“My former partner and Bow Street Runner,
Nicholas Swan.” Lyan rapped the butt of the pistol against Nick’s
temple. “I take it Cavell paid you to pursue me.”

Estelle drew in a sharp breath. Lyan glanced
up. She was as white as chalk. Hades, why? She had looked
moderately calm after the battle with Nick. Now she looked ready to
faint.

There was something wrong. His instincts,
which had kept him alive both in the stews and as a Runner, warned
him to watch out. There was something else going on here, and he
had to find out what.

Even with a pistol on him, sprawled on the
floor, Swan emitted a grating chuckle of pure triumph. Definitely
something was not right. Why did Nick look so confident?

“He paid me well,” Nick Swan said casually,
as though they were discussing this over pints in the tavern, “but
I had another reason to come here, Foxton, and the pretty lass is
waiting in my carriage for my return. I’m sure she’ll be panting
for me—”

“Laura,” Estelle broke in. She glared at
Nick. “
You
are the man she believed was a hero?”

Laura. His little sister was waiting for Nick
to return?
Panting
for him? Lyan reeled, though he kept Nick
pinned. Had he been thrown to the floorboards, too, striking his
head and knocking himself senseless?

“What in hell is Laura doing here with you,
Swan?” Lyan barked. He swung on Estelle, with the pistol still
pointed at Nick. Fear curdled in his gut. Now he knew why she
seemed to understand exactly what was going on. He didn’t want to
believe it, but this time he wasn’t a naïve, lovesick young man.
This time he had enough sense to recognize a betrayal.

“How do you know about Laura?” he asked, and
his tones were cold enough to freeze the sun. “How do you know
Swan?”

Estelle was already stark white, yet she
seemed to go even paler. “Your sister came to me last night,” she
admitted. “She told me she wished to elope with a Bow Street Runner
because she believed you would refuse the match. I now see
why.”

“You helped my sister run away with Swan?”
His voice was a roar. He’d once seen bear baiting and he remembered
the angry, desperate roar of the beast. He’d ensured the bear was
freed, but he felt like that poor, tormented animal right now. He’d
loved Estelle, he knew it. His heart had remained devoted to her
for ten years. And this was what she had done.

“I did not help her. I wanted her to speak to
you. But she ran out of my shop.”

“You didn’t help her, but you didn’t tell me
what she was planning to do.” He felt a sharp pain through his
chest, which had to be the large crack cleaving his heart. “Didn’t
you trust me to do what was best for Laura? This is why I didn’t
want my sister anywhere near Nick Swan. I found out he’s a corrupt
blackguard.”

“What are you going to do, Foxton?” Nick
grunted from beneath his foot. “Have your sister destroyed by
scandal? Let me go, and I’ll wed the chit and save her
reputation.”

“Oh, dear heaven, no!” Estelle cried.

Lyan glared at her. He wanted to kill Nick,
but his former friend’s betrayal didn’t hurt like Estelle’s lack of
trust. “No matter what happens here, Laura is ruined,” he pointed
out, trying to hold on to his anger so he didn’t stomp his foot on
Nick’s windpipe. “You aren’t helping ladies, Estelle. You are
putting them in danger. Just because you believed in running away
like a coward doesn’t mean you should force other girls to do
it.”

Estelle recoiled as if he had slapped her.
She was shaking. He had never seen her look so horrified in his
life. He’d been harsh, but it was the damned truth. She had done a
dangerous and foolhardy thing, and now she had ruined Laura’s
life.

“Lyan! What in heaven’s name are you doing to
Nick?”

Laura’s voice arced through the room. Lyan
jerked up his head and met his sister’s shocked eyes.

Estelle rushed to the doorway and drew Laura
into the room. She held his sister by the shoulders. To his shock,
Lyan could see Laura wanted to rush to Swan and help him. His
sister’s luminous green eyes fixed on the gun and she cried, “Lyan,
how could you? You can’t shoot him for running away with me. I love
him.”

When he didn’t move, Laura screamed, “I hate
you, you beast!” A torrent of tears coursed down her cheeks.

He had no idea what to say to Laura. “My
dear—”

“Don’t call me that.” Laura strained to surge
forward, but Estelle held her. “Don’t ever call me that again.
Don’t speak to me again. If you hurt Nick, I will hate your
forever. I’ll jump in the Thames. I’ll—”

“Stop this, Laura, please,” Estelle said
firmly. Her eyes met his and he could see the guilt and horror in
them. He wanted to keep his heart hardened. He didn’t want that
imploring look to touch him. But it did.

Then Estelle did what he could not. She found
the right words, though they were blunt ones. She told Laura
everything—Lady Maryanne’s elopement, their suspicions about
Cavell, Nick’s attack. She had her arm around Laura as she did, and
she soothed his sister through each step of the story. While she
spoke, he hauled Nick to his feet, with the blackguard’s hands tied
in front of him with the cord fetched by Estelle.

With Nick subdued, he dragged his former
partner with him and got his own pistol. “Don’t move,” he muttered
softly so Laura wouldn’t hear. “Don’t try to overpower me or hurt
Estelle, or even touch Laura. I will shoot you if you try
anything.”

At the very end of her explanation, Estelle
said softly, “Laura, you must know which man you can trust—the one
you should keep in your life. Your brother.”

If only Estelle had come to him at the
beginning. If only she’d trusted him. But that was the problem,
wasn’t it? She hadn’t trusted him a few days ago, just as she
hadn’t been able to believe in him and trust him ten years ago. He
had to remember she hadn’t said yes to his marriage proposal.

It meant she would never trust him. Never
open her heart to him.

Filled with impotent rage, he dragged a bound
Swan to his feet. “Was it also your job to go after Lady Maryanne
Bryght?”

Nick’s eyes shifted and his mouth hardened,
revealing the truth.

He shook Nick. “Did you find her? Hurt
her?”

At the silence, he gripped Nick by his
throat. “Tell me where you found her. Tell me what you did to her
and Peabody, or I’ll kill you now.”

Laura let out a soft sob. Estelle hugged the
girl tighter. He hating doing this—tormenting Laura with fear or
pain—but he had to help Lady Maryanne. “Take her away from here,”
he growled to Estelle. “I don’t want her to see this.”

“All right,” Estelle whispered. Gently, she
led his shaking sister from the room. He heard the thud of
footsteps—the innkeeper and servants summoned by the noise, he
guessed—and he hoped Estelle could keep them from entering the
room.

To Nick, he snarled, “Give me the truth and
things might go better for you.”

His former friend gave a vicious laugh. “Good
luck finding them. I caught them two days ago, but by then they
were wed.”

“Cavell had sent you to kill them if they
were.”

Nick gave a sly grin. “He wanted the lovely
and rich bride for himself. I was to get rid of the husband. But
the little witch outfoxed me. I had cut up the gent and was ready
to finish him when Lady Maryanne pulled a pistol on me. They
managed to escape. I had to return—Laura was waiting to elope with
me.” He smirked to Lyan. “I assumed you would pay a lot of money to
get her back and make me go away.”

“Oh, my goodness. You…you cad!”

It was Laura, still standing in the doorway.
She had turned a heart-wrenching shade of white—almost as pale as
Estelle.

“Laura, come with me.” Estelle grasped his
sister by the arms and drew her back from the open doorway. “We
will get you a sherry in the parlor. This man truly is a cad, and
you need to begin to forget him as of now.” She turned and gave
crisp orders to unseen people, asking for sherry and hot tea. She
also firmly instructed the servants not to enter the room,
explaining that the Earl of Delamore, who had been a Bow Street
Runner, was dealing with a villain. She instructed the innkeeper to
have the magistrate fetched.

Lyan felt a grim smile touch his lips. The
suddenly deferential voices proved it was useful being an earl. But
he sobered and growled at Nick. “Where did you find them?”

Nick shrugged insolently.

Fortunately he knew his former partner well.
Nick Swan was a coward at heart. It took another half-hour of
threats, but Nick finally revealed the name of the small village
inn where he had found Lady Maryanne and Mr. Peabody.

“Lyan—”

He spun around. Estelle was alone. “Laura is
having a drink in the parlor, so I thought I would see what was
happening. A groom has been sent on horseback for the magistrate.”
She hesitated. “I should have told you. I am so very sorry…”

He didn’t know what to say. He was still
angry over what she had done, but he loved her for how she had
taken care of Laura. He would always love her, and it would always
be hopeless, wouldn’t it? Curtly, he said, “Once he’s taken away,
I’ve got to see if I can find Lady Maryanne.”

She nodded. “I will look after Laura.”

“Thank you.” But it came out sharply. He
hadn’t meant it to. He was not angry at her over Laura. But he’d
called her a coward, She must have hated that. And she hadn’t been
able to trust him. If she couldn’t do that, if she couldn’t open
her heart to him, he would have to walk away from her forever.

* * *

The magistrate and several muscular village
men arrived to place Nick Swan under arrest. Once Swan had been
shackled in irons and taken to the gaol, Lyan, the magistrate, and
several of those men raced off in pursuit of Lady Maryanne. Estelle
stayed with Laura, who had finished her small glass of sherry and
broken down into sobs.

But as dawn began to blush on the horizon,
Laura wiped at her eyes. “You had tea brought in, didn’t you?”

“Yes.” Estelle poured the girl a cup. She
suspected Laura was, at her core, as strong and noble as Lyan. As
the girl sipped hot tea, Estelle stroked back her hair.

“I’m crying at my stupidity,” Laura said.
“And at how close I came to losing my brother.” Wide green eyes
gazed up at Estelle. “You were correct. I see how important Lyan is
to me. I don’t want to lose him—in any way. When I marry, I want it
to bring happiness to our family. Not discord. And—” She ducked her
head. “He was right.”

“Your brother is a very wise and wonderful
man.”

The door burst open then, and Lyan strode in.
He gaped as he saw his sister drinking tea, wiping at her nose, but
also smiling.

Estelle grasped Laura’s cup. Her heart felt
full to bursting as Laura flung herself into Lyan’s embrace. Over
his sister’s disordered curls, Lyan said, “We found Lady Maryanne
and Peabody. They had taken refuge in a barn. Peabody had lost
blood, but the village doctor believes he will survive. They have
many years of married life ahead of them.”

Estelle could have kissed him, but Laura
deserved to have all her brother’s hugs. Then, to her surprise,
Laura looked up into Lyan’s face. “Are you going to marry Madame
Desjardins? You could keep traveling and marry her over the
anvil.”

Estelle caught her breath. What if Lyan
thought she’d put Laura up to it? She had to clear the air. “No,
Laura, that was not our intention at all. I made a horrible
mistake. I decided not to tell Lyan that you planned to elope. I
was loyal to you, but it was the wrong thing to do.”

Laura turned from Lyan’s chest. “But—”

“Your brother is not some sort of heartless
man you should escape,” Estelle said firmly. “He is good, kind, and
loving. I should have told him the truth so that you and he could
speak together. Running away is never the solution. I’ve learned
that, and paid an enormous price for that knowledge. I am so very
sorry for what I did—for how I hurt your brother not once, but
twice. He deserved so much better than that.”