The Sins of Lord Easterbrook (38 page)

He noticed her, and the chair near her feet. He drew her into his embrace. “I told him not to rush in. I knew that you would attack anyone who did.”

She sagged against his strength. After hours of battling to keep terror at bay, relinquishing the fight felt too good to bear. “I knew you would come. I knew—”

His kiss silenced the rest. She luxuriated in the softness of his lips and the support of his arms.

“Tong Wei.…” she said, her voice catching.

“He is alive. I am sure he will remain so.”

Relief made her eyes brim with tears. “Was this Meadowsun's doing?”

“No. Another man. A fifth partner.”

“Has he been defeated?”

“Yes. You are safe now. Completely safe.”

She peered up at him. She sensed no darkness. No chaos. He was at peace. “Then you can take me home now.”

“Miller will bring you home. There is one thing I still must do, then I will come to you.” He looked past her. “Miller, we must go now.”

“What must you do?” she asked while he led her past other doors from which servants peeked.

He handed her down many stairs without responding. Outside, carriages lined the street. Some had begun to leave and men were entering others.

“Who are these people, Christian? What has happened?”

Miller handed Isabella into the carriage, and held the door for her. The young man seemed very sober, and not at all happy about this rescue.

Christian tried to hand her in, but she refused. “Who are these men? Why were they here?”

“They are a group of other lords. I laid the accusations in front of them. A judgment was held.”

“Would not it be better to lay it in front of a magistrate? A judge? What judgment could these men render?”

“One that said it would be better if your abductor was not tried in the House of Lords, which is the only place where he can be tried publicly and officially. A duke owns this house, Leona. A peer with a high reputation and considerable influence and a title that has a glorious history.”

“You are saying that he would never see true justice, I think.”

“He might, possibly, but at a cost to institutions that hold this country together. Sometimes it is better for justice to be served in quieter ways.”

“As you did with Meadowsun?”

“Yes.”

Except it would be over now if it had been the same as with the cleric. She watched the last of these men enter their coaches. Their serious purpose filled the air. They did not look at Easterbrook's coach. They did not bid farewell.

They were all going somewhere. Christian would be going there too.

A horrible fear spilled through her. One far worse than what had gripped her on being grabbed in her house.

A new coach came down the street. It stopped thirty feet away.

“You must go now, Leona. Miller—” He gave her hand into Miller's more demanding hold.

She struggled against the way Miller tried to pull her toward the carriage. “Who is that, Christian? In that coach there?”

“My brothers.”

She knew then. The truth stole her breath. Everyone and everything ceased to move in that instant of realization. “Did you challenge him, Christian?”

“He challenged me.”

“If you lose, is he free of it?”

“Not for the men who matter.”

He spoke very calmly. Almost indifferently. She did not like that placid acceptance. He should be afraid, but he was not.

His demeanor frightened her now. This was not arrogance or confidence at work, but something far darker.

She yanked her hand away from Miller and embraced Christian tightly. She kissed him with all the love she could find in her heart, then spoke in his ear.

“It has appeal, does it not? The total peace. The final silence. It is luring you as it did years ago and perhaps often since. But you must want to live now. For your brothers and family. For me. For all that you are and still can be. You must be Easterbrook, and cannot allow yourself to be Edmund again.”

He took her face in his hands and looked in her eyes. She let him see and sense whatever he wanted. That invasive power flowed and she did not run and hide this one time. She let it enter her and find its certainty and prayed whatever he discovered would be enough.

“Go now,” he said. “I will see you soon.”

“He appears confident,” Denningham said, looking across the field to where Ashford removed his coats.
Dawn came mistily and the treetops disappeared into films of gray light.

“He anticipates little trouble with me. He would have never made the challenge if he did,” Christian said.

The witnesses arrayed themselves on either side of the space between him and Ashford. Only the peers were here. The bishops, although in agreement that this was the better way, would not attend.

Denningham held the foil. He had offered to serve as second, but under these circumstances he had few duties to perform.

Two other witnesses were present. Hayden and Elliot stood behind Christian. He could feel their worry. There had been little talk in the carriage ride here, other than his explanation to them that the challenge involved the honor of Leona. If he failed this morning, Hayden would learn the truth the first time he entered Rallingport's library as the Marquess of Easterbrook.

He watched Ashford stretch and prepare himself. The man was in good humor. If he lost, he would go to his grave with his good name intact. If he won, no one would ever raise the question about the smuggling at the whist table.

That was how it was supposed to work. A clumsy justice and an imperfect one, but a quiet resolution all the same. The others would know, however. Ashford would be diminished both in influence and wealth even if he lived.

They were all sworn to it, but two men here were not. Christian walked back to his brothers.

“His demeanor is an insult,” Elliot said, shooting a glare at Ashford.

“His confidence will be his undoing,” Christian said.

Hayden smiled, but his eyes held deep concern. Hayden was very good with numbers and odds, and his calculations on this duel had not been happy ones. “I trust you have used the foil at least once or twice in the last ten years.”

“On occasion. I am much improved since I fought the pirates that raided the ship I was on near Japan.”

“You fought pirates near Japan?” Elliot asked with surprise.

“Did I never mention that? Suffice to say I am more skilled than you know, and I intend to win today. However, Hayden, in the event that you soon find yourself with the title, I suggest that you look into that partnership that I had Mr. Miller ask you about. Look into it very thoroughly. You are not bound by any promises I might have made, but I advise that you do it very quietly until you comprehend where it is going.”

Hayden's smile fell. He looked at Ashford with new eyes.

Christian returned to Denningham, whose distress was palpable.

“Hell of a thing,” Denningham muttered. “Damned if I'll be playing whist with him again. He can sit in a corner in the library for all I care if he dares show after this.”

“Thank you for the vote of confidence, Denningham.”

Denningham flushed, mortified.

Christian smiled to reassure him, then spoke. “I am
sorry that I could not keep your father's name out of it, and yours by association.”

“I understand. Decent of you to confine it to the men in that small club, but right is right, after all. If we do not stand for that, what good are we?”

His simplicity charmed Christian, as it had since they were boys. He had always rather envied Denningham that quality. “We must have dinner and some good wine when this is over. I think I still belong to some other clubs.”

“Wine, hell. I won't be able to drink another French bottle from my cellar without wondering.…but, yes, I would like that.”

Christian held out his hand. “My foil, old friend.”

He handed it over. Christian walked down the field to meet Ashford.

You must want to live.

She understood him too well. She was correct that death had lured Edmund, and even Easterbrook every now and then. It did mean total peace and utter silence. It would be like dwelling in the dark center forever. That was what meditation created, after all, a taste of the selfless existence waiting in infinity.

As a result, Christian did not fear death. He had already visited that plane. He was not inclined to go there permanently if he could avoid it, however.

Not if staying alive meant spending even one more day with Leona.

He came to her silently. Darkly. He arrived at ten o'clock in the morning, dressed impeccably in his most lordly way. He entered her house as if he owned it, the
way he was inclined to do. He found her in the library, reading a book whose pages had been ruined by her worried tears.

He sat beside her. She embraced him and let her relief spill. No tears now, just a fullness that made it hard to speak.

“Where is Miller?” he asked.

“Above,” she muttered into his coat.

“Are you saying he was taking his pleasure with your servant while I was facing my death?”

She laughed. “Your brother brought your note two hours ago. They slipped away once we knew you were unharmed.”

“That is better, then.”

She rested against him, her ear to his heart and his arm around her. They just sat there, being together, reassuring each other.

“The magistrate was here at dawn, when we returned,” she said. “It was trying, to know where you were and what you were doing, while I answered their questions.”

“What did you say?”

“That four men invaded and Tong Wei tried to protect us and was shot for his efforts. That we were taken to a house in the city, I know not where, and locked away. That you and Mr. Miller rescued us. He spoke with Mr. Miller a long while alone, then left.”

“Miller knew what to say. It will all be explained to the magistrate's satisfaction in a few days. As will the unexpected demise of my fellow lord.”

She had not known for certain that the duke was
dead. The note that came had only said that Christian was well and would come to her soon.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked.

“No.”

“I understand. It must have been difficult for you, no matter how necessary or right.”

He pressed a kiss to her crown. “Not as difficult as it should have been. My father's blood serves me too well in such matters. But I can live with it because you are safe. I never would have been certain of that otherwise.” He eased her away and stood. He held out his hand. “Let us take a turn around the square. I find that I am unaccountably in the mood for the noise of life.”

H
e stayed with her that night. They took slow pleasure in her chamber. The entire house and garden remained silent.

She experienced a new peace in their intimacy. A sense of completion. The duty to her father was over. Her anger about his persecution had been sliding away since they left Doctors’ Commons, and she finally released all of it while in Christian's arms.

She held Christian closely and let her entire consciousness dwell on him. She memorized his scent and feel, the textures of his hair and skin. She took him into herself deeply when it was time, and allowed no sorrow or fears to interfere with knowing him.

A touching poignancy moved her, and him too, she thought. The kisses, the ecstasy itself, became a conversation between them that she finally voiced with words. First silent words, spoken in her mind and in her heart, then finally into his ear while they gave themselves to each other.

I love you, all that you are. The good and the sins,

the brilliance and the curse, the storms that still plague Edmund and the mastery that is Easterbrook. I love all that you are.

She slipped from the bed without waking him. She donned a simple
qipao,
then looked down on him while he slept. His hair was getting longer again, and it fell on his shoulders in those barbaric locks. Right now, in his sleep, the softening beauty had its way and he appeared like a dark angel.

She left the chamber. She did not want to spoil the memory of their night with the thoughts that had entered her while she lay in the dawn's light. She could not avoid them anymore. He had given her a victory and helped her more than she expected. They both knew what that meant, even if they had ignored it for these hours together.

She went to the garden and sat among the spring flowers. She did not have much time to herself, however. Soon she was not alone.

He entered the garden and saw her. He had put on trousers and boots and his shirt. He looked much like he had that first day when Mr. Miller kidnapped her off the street.

She reacted the same way too. Their affair had not dimmed that. Much the opposite. He could still excite her with nothing more than the gaze he settled on her now.

He sat down with her. He took her hand in his, admired the flowers, and waited.

Her throat tightened, but she spoke anyway. She only could because she knew he guessed what she was
thinking. “I need to book passage soon. As soon as Tong Wei can travel.”