by Julia Quinn
“Forget it. That ill-bred chit has caused me enough trouble tonight as it is. In a few minutes we’ll leave.”
“Then we can come back for Emma?”
There was a pregnant pause. “Actually, I think we will not. Someone will find her like this eventually, and won’t that be a merry tale for the gossip-mongers? Perhaps we should add a blindfold to her current attire. Or perhaps she shouldn’t be attired at all.”
Dunford slipped back down the hall. He’d heard enough.
“What’s going on?” Alex demanded.
“It sounds like Woodside’s going to force Belle to marry him. He’s planning to take her over to the church as soon as the sun goes down, which ought to be in a couple of minutes.”
“And Emma?”
Dunford paused. “Actually, she didn’t say anything. I think Woodside’s got her tied up. He said she’d already caused him enough trouble.”
A muscle started working spasmodically in Alex’s neck as he fought to restrain himself from thundering into the room. The thought of Emma tied up and at that bastard’s mercy sent rage of such ferocity through him that he was barely able to speak. When he regained control of himself, he spoke very slowly. “I am not going to kill him,” he said, his voice very, very cold. “Because he is not worth the legal trouble that will follow. But I am going to cause him so much pain that he will wish I had.”
Dunford quirked a brow and let Alex’s comment pass. A man had the right to be furious when his wife was tied up. Still, he thought it best to try to defuse the rage that was visibly emanating from his friend. “Just be thankful that she is tied up. At least she won’t be able to run into the fracas and get herself hurt. Still, we’re going to have to be careful, Ashbourne. I assume he’s got a gun. And it’s going to be pointed at Belle.”
Alex nodded grimly. “You wait behind the door and cosh him on the head. I’ll attack from the front and try to get Belle out of the way. Shipton, you wait here. We may need you.”
Shipton nodded, and the two larger men slipped silently down the hallway, positioning themselves on either side of the door. Alex stood slightly farther away than Dunford and pressed himself against the wall. Woodside would be heading in his direction when he emerged, and he didn’t want to be seen until after Dunford sprang into action.
After a few minutes of agonized waiting, the hinges creaked and the door swung open.
“Not a peep out of you while we go down through the inn, do you—”
With surprising grace, Dunford jumped up onto Woodside’s back and jammed his elbow down onto his skull.
“What the hell?” The blow disoriented Woodside but it was not quite enough to knock him out. Still, he loosened his grip on Belle and she dashed away from him, straight back into the room.
Alex lunged forward, hurling himself into Woodside’s midsection, knocking the breath from him. But somehow Woodside managed to keep his grip on his gun and a shot exploded in the hallway, sending Alex flying back down the corridor, where he landed in a crumpled tangle of arms and legs. Shipton rushed forward immediately, but the groom had no experience with gunshot wounds, and the sight of bright red blood oozing from his master’s shoulder was enough to send him into a swoon. He landed squarely atop Alex, effectively pinning him to the floor.
From beneath her blindfold, Emma heard the sounds of the scuffle and then of the gunshot, and her heart started pounding wildly with terror. Clamping her teeth down against the gag in desperation, she waited miserably on the bed, somehow knowing that her husband was hurt, maybe dying. And she could do nothing to help him. She couldn’t help anyone, even herself.
“Get the hell off of me!” Woodside cried, spinning around wildly, trying to loose the death grip Dunford had around his neck. Finally, in one last desperate move, he slammed Dunford with all his might into the doorframe, and Dunford went down. Unfortunately, so did his pistol, which clattered to the floor and slid into the room, where Belle picked it up in horror.
Woodside’s face erupted into a sinister smile as he raised his gun and pointed it at Dunford’s heart. “You are a very stupid man,” he said softly, his finger tightening on the trigger.
“Not as stupid as you.”
Dunford gasped as he saw Belle pointing his gun at Woodside.
“If you shoot him, I’ll shoot you,” she added, trying to keep her voice level.
Emma almost died in that moment. She had no idea what was going on, but she did know that Belle had no idea how to use a pistol.
Woodside’s expression turned wary for a moment but cleared quickly. “Really, Lady Arabella,” he said condescendingly, keeping his eye carefully fixed on the man in front of him. “I cannot believe that a gently-bred lady such as you—an earl’s daughter— could ever shoot a man.”
Belle shot him in the foot. “Believe it.”
Woodside was momentarily stunned. Dunford took advantage of this temporary lapse and lunged forward, intending to knock Woodside to the ground and wrestle the gun away from him. But before Dunford connected with his target, another shot rang out, and Woodside came tumbling down, landing on top of Dunford. From down the hall, Alex breathed a sigh of relief as his pistol slipped from his fingers. Under the heavy weight of Shipton, it had taken him precious seconds to retrieve his gun, which had fallen to the floor a few feet away from him. His shoulder was throbbing, his arm was numb, but still he had inched forward, gritting his teeth against the pain. When his hand finally found the weapon, he had no idea just how fortuitous his timing was, and he picked up the gun and shot Woodside in the back of the knee.
After Woodside and Dunford went down, the scene was eerily quiet, with only Belle standing, a smoking gun in her hand. Her mouth was slightly open, and her eyes seemed to have lost the ability to bunk as she stared at the aftermath of the battle that had been waged in her honor. The horror that she had managed to gulp down when she shot Woodside belatedly rose within her, and the gun slipped from her fingers, landing loudly on the floor.
“Oh my good Lord,” she breathed, her eyes roving over the scene. Alex was pinned beneath Shipton, and Dunford was pinned beneath Woodside. Two of the ton’s most virile men had been incapacitated by mere body weight. It would have been humorous if she weren’t still shaking from terror. To top everything off, Emma was still tied up and blindfolded on the bed.
And she was not happy about it. Deducing that the danger had passed, Emma started grunting and thrashing wildly, gutturally insisting that someone come and release her.
Emma’s jerky movements broke Belle out of her haze, and she rushed over to release her cousin. “Calm yourself,” she said, trying to sound stern. Belle undid the gag first and was immediately sorry that she had done so.
“What happened? What’s going on? Is Alex hurt? I can’t see anything! Will you—”
“You just cannot bear to be left out, can you?” Belle said, shaking her head as she pulled the blindfold off.
Emma blinked as her eyes adjusted to the light. “There were so many shots. I felt so helpless. Where is Alex?”
Belle cut away the ties around Emma’s ankles and then had to race after her as she dashed out into the hallway to find Alex.
“Oh my God! You’ve been shot!” Emma froze, sickened by the sight of Alex’s blood. She kicked away one of Woodside’s legs and hurried down the hall to her husband.
“Will you slow down?” Belle called. “You cannot do anything to help him with your hands still tied.”
Emma knelt next to Alex and pressed her ear against his chest. His heart was still beating. Belle took advantage of Emma’s momentary stillness and cut away the last piece of cloth that bound her wrists.
Finally free, Emma frantically took Alex’s face in her hands. “Are you all right?” she pleaded. “Please say something.”
“Get…him…off of me!”
Emma drew back, somewhat reassured by the vehemence in his voice. With strength born of the panic that had been racing through her for the last few minutes, she sho
ved Shipton and rolled him off of Alex’s body.
Alex breathed a sigh of relief. “I’ll be fine,” he said hoarsely. “Go see if Dunford is all right.”
“I don’t know,” Emma said dubiously, picking up the cloth that had once been tied around her wrists and pressing it against his wound. “You’ve bled quite a lot.” She glanced guiltily back at Dunford, whom she hadn’t even noticed in her quest to reach Alex.
“Stay with him,” Belle said quickly. “I’ll tend to Dunford.” It didn’t take very long for her to roll Woodside off of Dunford’s legs, and Belle quickly set about the task of tying him up—with the very bindings he had forced her to use on Emma.
Dunford strode over to Emma, who was still kneeling beside Alex, her expression worried. She couldn’t seem to stop the flow of blood.
“Let me see him,” Dunford said. “I know a thing or two about gunshot wounds.”
Emma knew that Dunford had fought on the Peninsula with Alex, so she moved away immediately.
Dunford did a quick examination and then turned back to Emma, relief visible in his eyes. “He’s lost a fair amount of blood, but it’s not serious. He’ll be mad as hell, but he’ll live.”
Emma smiled tremulously as she leaned forward to place a gentle kiss on Alex’s lips. As she drew back, however, Alex’s good arm shot forward, and his hand closed around her chin like a vise. Shocked, Emma’s eyes opened wide, and she stared into the depths of Alex’s emerald gaze, which was suddenly remarkably clear and unclouded by pain.
“I am going to lock…you…up.”
“Oh Dunford!” Emma cried happily. “He’s going to be just fine!”
Three days later Alex was feeling quite refreshed, but he was having so much fun being nursed by Emma he couldn’t quite bring himself to get out of bed. She had remained by his side for the first day and night, carefully cleaning his wound and then once it had started to heal, making sure that he didn’t accidentally reopen it. She knew from experience that Alex tossed and turned quite a bit in his sleep, and she didn’t want him losing any more blood.
The second day she also remained at his side. Except this time she was fast asleep. She had traveled across the country and back, climbed along a ledge, been tied and gagged, and maintained a twenty-four-hour vigil for Alex, all in three days. She fell asleep in the chair, holding Alex’s hand. When he awoke, he felt her small hand in his, infusing him with her fire and love. He glanced over at her, and she looked so adorable that he eased himself out of the bed, picked her up, and laid her down next to him. His movements were awkward as he didn’t have the full use of his arm yet, but he felt a burning need to comfort her. Besides, he rather missed the feel of her cuddled up next to him.
Dunford came in while she was asleep, and Alex carefully covered her with a blanket. Propriety dictated that the two men conduct their conversation elsewhere, but Alex was loath to get out of bed, and he knew he could trust Dunford. In hushed voices, they discussed the previous days’ exploits, and Alex learned that at Dunford’s rather insistent urging, Woodside had hightailed it out of the country. They had considered reporting him to the authorities, but Belle decided that she didn’t want a scandal. Woodside was so obsessed with titles and aristocracy, she had told Dunford, that life in the outback of Australia would be equal punishment to any jail. After about ten minutes, Dunford slipped back out of the room and headed for his own chamber, declaring that he was planning to sleep for the next week. Alex didn’t doubt for a minute that he would.
On the third day Emma woke up, somewhat surprised to find herself in bed and completely undressed.
“You slept for nearly a day,” Alex said in an amused tone.
Emma closed her eyes. “What a dreadful nurse I am.”
“I think you’re perfect.” He dropped a kiss on her nose.
Emma sighed in contentment and snuggled up next to his warm body. “How are you feeling?”
“Much better. The wound doesn’t really hurt unless I accidentally bump it.”
“I’m glad,” Emma murmured, scooting her head underneath his good arm and resting it on his chest. “You had me rather worried, you know. There was so much blood.”
“Darling, you don’t know the meaning of the word ‘worried’ unless you were inside my head when I realized that Woodside had you in that room. And then when I realized you were tied up…I don’t ever want to feel that way again,” he said fiercely.
Emma felt his body tense, and in his muscles she could feel the intensity of his emotions. Tears filled her eyes, and she turned over onto her stomach, propping herself up onto her elbows so that she could look into his eyes. “You won’t,” she said softly. “I promise.”
“Emma?”
“Hmm?”
“Don’t leave me again.”
“I didn’t leave you.”
“Don’t go visit anyone on a moment’s notice, then. The house was very lonely without you.”
Emma was stunned by the force of emotion that surged through her at his stark words, and she had to bite her lip to keep the tears from spilling out of her eyes. Embarrassed by her weepiness, she lay back down on her side, cuddling herself against Alex’s chest.
“I’ve been thinking, Emma.”
“Yes?”
“You were right about there not being enough for you to do around here. I’m ashamed that I didn’t realize it sooner. I guess I had never bothered to see what it was that women did all day. I just assumed you had plenty with which to busy yourself.” Alex paused and stroked her fiery hair, marveling at the silken texture of it. “And I really have too much work. I have a few estates in addition to Westonbirt, you know.”
Emma nodded. And then she nodded some more just because the warm skin of his torso felt so good against her cold nose.
“I was thinking you could take over the management of those estates. I’ll need you to monitor the books. And you’ll have to travel to them every now and then to check in with the overseers. And meet the tenants, of course. I think it’s very important for the tenants to realize that we don’t want to be absentee landlords.”
Emma unburied her face from his side and gazed up into his face, her violet eyes shining. “Will you come with me?”
“Of course.” A grin stretched across Alex’s face. “The bed gets awfully cold without you. I couldn’t get to sleep.”
“Oh, Alex,” Emma cried, throwing her arms around him, completely forgetting about his wound. “I missed you too. So much. Sophie told me I ought to stay away for five days just to teach you a lesson, but I just couldn’t. I was going to spend the day with my cousins and head home. I couldn’t help myself,” she said, gulping back tears. “I love you so.”
“And I you.” Alex wrapped his arms around his wife, feeling utterly content as he held her warm body against him. For the first time in ten years, he felt completely at peace with the world. Visions of the rest of his life stretched before him, and the scenes were all beautiful, filled with carroty-haired children and grandchildren. And, of course, his carroty-haired wife. “Isn’t it strange?” he said, his voice filled with wonderment. “But I’m actually looking forward to growing old.”
Emma smiled tremulously. “Me too.”
Epilogue
Emma decided to put her plans for the building of a hospital aside until she felt she had a better grasp on her duties as the new manager of the Ashbourne estates. Three months later, however, she had a new reason to postpone construction: she was pregnant.
She shouldn’t have been so surprised, she supposed. After all, the way she and Alex had been behaving, a baby was inevitable. But when she missed her first monthly, the possibility of motherhood still seemed somehow remote. With all of the happiness her marriage had brought into her life, a baby seemed too much to hope for. But then she began to notice slight changes in her body, and she woke up in the morning feeling slightly queasy. She didn’t want to tell Alex until she was certain; there was no need for both of them to be disappointed if it proved t
o be a false alarm. When she missed her second monthly, however, she knew that dreams really could come true.
So one morning, as Alex was preparing to get out of bed and get dressed, she put her hand on his arm to still him.
“What is it, darling?” he asked.
“Don’t get up just yet,” she said softly.
Alex smiled with love in his eyes and eased back under the warm covers. He pulled her to him and dropped a gentle kiss on her nose, thinking that the pleasure of holding his wife was certainly worth the loss of a few minutes of work that day.
“I have some important news,” Emma said.
“Really?” Alex murmured, busy nuzzling the spot of silken skin just behind her ear.
“Mmm,” Emma sighed, enjoying his caress. “I’m going to have a baby.”
“What?” Alex said loudly, setting her back from him so that he could see her face. “Did you say...?”
Emma nodded, her entire being aglow.
“A baby,” he said in wonder. “A baby. Just imagine that.”
“It’s a little soon, I know, but—”
“It’s not too soon,” Alex interrupted, crushing her to him. “I can’t wait. A baby of my own.”
“And my own, too,” Emma reminded him.
“A baby of our own. It will be a girl with carroty hair, I think.”
Emma shook her head. “No, a boy. I’m sure of it. With black hair and green eyes.”
“Nonsense, I’m certain it will be a girl.”
Emma laughed, caught up in the magic of the moment. “A boy.”
“A girl.”
“A boy.”
“A girl”
“It will be a boy, I tell you. Would you mind so terribly having a boy?” Emma teased.
Alex pretended to give the matter careful consideration. “A little boy with black hair and green eyes would be acceptable, I suppose. One’s got to get an heir, after all. But a tiny little girl with carroty hair—now that would be splendid.”
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