The Beloved Scoundrel

by Iris Johansen

  “No, we wouldn’t want to hurt Jordan’s feelings.” She tried to keep the irony from her voice. Jordan, the seducer, the magician who could spin a web so glittering, you wanted to stay caught in it forever. Even Alex was helpless before him.

  “Marianna!”

  They turned to see Gregor waving his arm at them.

  “Chocolate!” Alex turned and ran back toward the lodge.

  “Be careful,” she shouted after him.

  He laughed and kept on running, sliding over the snow.

  She smiled and shook her head at her own foolishness. When was a seven-year-old boy ever cautious? Particularly Alex, who lived every minute as if there would never be another?

  Alex had already disappeared into the lodge when she arrived at the stable yard, but Gregor stood waiting on the step.

  “I am sorry,” he said quietly. “I could not stop him.”

  She felt the heat touch her cheeks and deliberately pretended to misunderstand him. “No one can stop Alex when there’s a cup of chocolate waiting.”

  “I thought Jordan would bring you back within a few days.” His gaze raked her face. “Has he hurt you?”

  Had he hurt her? Not physically, but she was beginning to feel that the pain would never stop unless she could find a way to leave him. “You must know he’s not a violent man.”

  “He does not need to strike a blow to bring pain.” He shook his head. “If you would give him the Jedalar, I would have reason to try to interfere.”

  “Try?” She smiled bitterly. “I thought you told me you always won your battles with Jordan.”

  “That was a long time ago. With every loss Jordan learned. It would be difficult to take away something he wanted now.”

  And he would not even make the attempt as long as there was a possibility that Jordan could wrest the Jedalar from her. She was alone.

  Well, she had been alone before. She did not need his help. She turned and opened the door. “I need a cup of hot chocolate myself. It’s growing chilly out here.”

  Alex and Gregor stayed until late afternoon, and the tears stung Marianna’s eyes as she watched them ride away.

  “They’ll be back in a few days,” Jordan said quietly.

  “Alex needs me,” she said fiercely.

  “I need you.”

  He turned and went back into the lodge.

  She followed him. “You didn’t tell me Alex was at Cambaron. I thought you’d sent him away.”

  “We brought him back. He’s happiest at Cambaron. There was no use upsetting him unduly.” He turned to look at her. “And I didn’t tell you he was at Cambaron because I knew that you’d immediately decide to make the attempt to go to him. We’re too close to Cambaron here at Dalwynd.” He smiled faintly. “For the woman who walked seventy miles to Talenka, the distance would be nothing.”

  “But you knew he’d tell me.”

  “I promised you could see him. I don’t break my word. It only means I have to be more vigilant.”

  “This can’t go on.” She turned and walked to the window and stared blindly out at the frozen lake. She asked suddenly, “What would you do if I gave you the Jedalar?”

  She could sense his sudden tension across the room.

  “What?”

  “That’s what you want. What if I gave it to you? Would you let me and Alex go?”

  “Yes,” he said slowly, “I would let you go. I’d let you ride out of Cambaron with enough money to make you and Alex comfortable for the rest of your lives. I’d stay at Cambaron and promise not to look for you for a full month. I’d give you your chance to be rid of me.” She heard him move, and then he was behind her, not touching her. “And then I’d come after you and find you and bring you back.” His arms slid around her waist. “But we both know you’re not going to give up that easily. You might try to trick me by dangling the Jedalar in front of me, but I’m not in any danger of having to bargain with you yet.” His lips gently feathered her ear. “Poor Marianna, you’re sad and tired, and life isn’t fair, is it? Come sit by the fire. I’ll fix your supper.”

  A thundering crash at the front door!

  Marianna woke to hear Jordan’s low curse as he leaped from the bed.

  Another crash!

  “What is—” She was talking to air; Jordan was no longer in the room. She jumped from the bed, slipped on her robe, and ran out of the room and down the stairs.

  Jordan was crouched on the doorstep, bending over a giant bearlike form.

  “What is it? What’s happened?” Her fingers were trembling so badly, she barely managed to light the candle on the table by the door. “Who …?”

  “Gregor.” Jordan’s voice was hoarse. “Gregor, goddammit.”

  Fear tore through her. She took a step closer, holding the candle higher.

  Blood on the snow. Blood on Gregor’s quilted tunic. She fell to her knees beside him. Was he dead? Dear God, so much blood … and his face was chalk pale. “Is he …?”

  “He’s not dead. He won’t die.” Jordan’s voice was fierce. “Get linens for bandages.” He straightened and with an effort lifted Gregor’s enormous bulk in his arms. “I won’t be able to manage the stairs. I’ll lay him before the fire.”

  She ran to do his bidding. Gregor was hurt. Gregor could die. Sweet, wise Gregor …

  Alex!

  Gregor had been with Alex. Whatever fate had befallen Gregor must also have struck down Alex.

  Alex might be lying somewhere on the snow, hurt, unable to defend himself.

  With shaking hands she took out an armful of linens and flew back to the parlor. Gregor was lying on the rug in front of the hearth. Jordan had already unbuttoned his tunic and grabbed one of the linens from her.

  “Jordan.” She tried to steady her voice. “Alex.”

  “I know.” He was trying to staunch the bleeding in Gregor’s upper chest.

  “Alex is alone out there. We have to go after him.”

  “We will.” He sat back on his heels. “The wound’s not too deep, but he’s lost a good deal of blood.”

  “Will he live?”

  “I’ve seen him survive much worse.”

  “Was it a wild animal?” She was shaking so badly, she could barely stand. “What did this to him? A wolf?”

  He shook his head. “Knife wound.”

  “Knife? He was attacked? Robbers?”

  “We’ll have to ask him.”

  “But he’s in a faint. You stay here with him, and I’ll go after Alex.”

  “No,” Jordan said sharply. “We don’t know where he was attacked. Gregor will have to tell us.”

  “I can’t wait. What if—”

  “I’m … sorry.” Gregor’s eyes were open, looking up at Jordan. “I was … stupid. I’ve grown too soft with the life here. Should go home …”

  Marianna felt a rush of relief. If he could speak, he couldn’t be too badly hurt.

  “Well, your stupidity is not going to prove fatal. It’s a good thing you’re as big as you are. Anyone with less blood would be a corpse now.” Jordan’s voice was light, but his hand was infinitely gentle as he brushed the wild mane of hair back from Gregor’s face. “Where did it happen?”

  “They were waiting for us.…” Gregor trailed off and then roused himself. “Seven men. They knew we were coming.”

  “Do you know who they were?”

  “I recognized only one—Costain.”

  Jordan cursed beneath his breath. “Where?”

  “Down the road … other side of bridge … about … six miles …”

  “Gregor,” Marianna whispered. “Alex?”

  “They took him.” His eyes closed. “That’s why … they wanted him. Southwick. They took the road toward Southwick.…”

  He was in a faint again.

  “Why would they take Alex?” she whispered.

  “I’ll have to leave at once.” Jordan stood up and moved toward the staircase. “Stay here and take care of Gregor. I’ll get dressed and ride to S
outhwick.”

  She felt a chill as she looked down at Gregor’s still body. Seven men, he had said. If Gregor’s tremendous strength had not prevailed, the danger to Jordan would be as great. “Alone?”

  “There’s no time to go to Cambaron to get help.”

  “You could take the two men you have on guard here.”

  “No, I want them here to take care of you.”

  “Sweet Mary, why? Do you think I’m going to run away when Alex is in danger?”

  “No.” He looked down at her from the landing. “But you’ll stay here and not leave the house, and the guards will stay also. Do you understand?”

  “The only thing I understand is that I want Alex back.” She recalled something else Gregor had said. “Who is this Costain?”

  “We’ll talk later.” He threw open the door and strode into his room. “I have to get to Southwick at once.”

  Gregor woke again four hours later. “Jordan?” he whispered.

  “He went to Southwick.” She pressed the cool cloth to his temple. “He’s been gone some time now.”

  “Alex.” He shook his head. “He won’t find him. It was too far … it took me too long. I … failed.” He closed his eyes. “Ship …”

  A chill went through her. “Ship?”

  “Why else … Southwick? Ship …”

  “Don’t talk.” She pressed a cup of water to his lips. “Drink.”

  He swallowed the water. “I am sorry, Marianna. Failed …”

  “You couldn’t know this would happen. You could have been killed. It was one man against seven.”

  “We were so careful. Should have been safe. Betrayed. I suspected nothing.” He closed his eyes. “But they were waiting.…” He drifted off again.

  Southwick.

  A ship.

  Who was waiting?

  She was beginning to fear she knew the answer.

  Gregor woke twice more during the night and appeared to be gaining more strength with each passing hour. Marianna sat by the fire tending him, waiting.

  Jordan did not return until well after daybreak.

  “How is he?” he asked as he strode into the lodge.

  “Better.” She braced herself. “Where is Alex?”

  “On a ship that sailed two hours before I arrived at Southwick.” He paused. “A ship bound for Montavia.”

  “Nebrov,” she said numbly.

  “Not Nebrov. One of his lieutenants, Marcus Costain. Nebrov is in Poland meeting with Napoleon. Passage was booked for a Marcus Costain and his nephew, James Lakalb.”

  “Are you sure it was Alex?”

  “I made inquiries on the dock. Costain booked a separate cabin for the boy and told the agent his nephew was ill and would have to remain in his cabin for the entire journey.”

  Alex was a prisoner. Alex, who spent most of his waking hours outside, careening joyously around Cambaron, was going to be confined in that small space for the long journey to Montavia. It was too painful to consider. She suddenly recalled something else Jordan had said. “How do you know Nebrov is with Napoleon?”

  He hesitated. “I received a message while I was in Sweden.”

  She stared at him in disbelief. “You suspected he might be planning to make some move to do with the Jedalar. That’s why you brought me here; that’s how all this started.”

  “It wasn’t a suspicion, only a vague possibility,” he said harshly. “We’ve been watching carefully since the moment you arrived at Cambaron. There was not one sign that Nebrov had discovered where you were.”

  “You didn’t tell me,” she said dully. “I could have taken Alex and run away.”

  “We didn’t know.”

  “I wouldn’t have taken the chance. Not with Alex’s safety.” She stared directly into his eyes. “But you chose to do it.”

  “I tried to—” He met her gaze and then said wearily, “Yes, I made the choice.”

  She stood up and moved toward the staircase. “I’m going to pack my clothes, and then we’re going to go to Southwick. We’re going to board the Seastorm and follow Alex to Montavia.”

  “We can’t do that,” he said. “Not yet.”

  “Not yet!” She turned on him with blazing eyes. “Alex is alone and afraid. When he reaches Montavia, that monster may kill him as he did my mother.”

  “No, he won’t. You’re not thinking clearly. Nebrov doesn’t want Alex; he wants you. He only took Alex to lure you to him.” He added, “I once told you that was the danger.”

  “And you still let him be taken.”

  “We’ll get him back.”

  “Now!”

  “We’re going back to Cambaron first.” He lifted his hand as she started to protest. “You don’t take a hostage without leaving terms. No terms will be given to me because Nebrov would be afraid I’d ignore any threat to the boy if it meant losing the Jedalar. He’ll make sure his terms are delivered to you personally. And then we’ll take the messenger.”

  “What good will that do?”

  “I want him,” he said coldly. “Costain’s men were lying in wait for Gregor and Alex. Someone at Cambaron had to have told them when they left the castle. I don’t like traitors.”

  “We don’t have time for you to indulge your taste for vengeance.”

  “It’s not only vengeance. He may know something. Nebrov has the advantage, but anything we learn may help.” He added, “I assure you that within a few hours we’ll know everything he does.”

  Torture.

  His tone was so savage, she should have been sickened, but she was not. She didn’t care what Jordan did to any of those beasts, if it would get Alex back. “And then we’ll go after Alex?”

  “I promise you, the moment we have as much information as we can gather, we’ll set sail for Montavia.”

  One part of her realized that Jordan’s way was the most reasonable, but she didn’t want to wait. She knew too well the brutality of which Nebrov was capable. She kept remembering her mother’s painracked body and hearing—

  “Very well,” she said. “I’ll wait two days and no more. After that, I’ll find my own way to get to Montavia.”

  She quickly climbed the steps and closed the door to her room.

  Alex. She leaned back against the door as fear and sorrow overwhelmed her. It seemed impossible that only yesterday afternoon she had laughed as she watched him running along the bank.

  She would not cry. Tears would do no good. They would not get Alex back. She crossed the room to her armoire and started drawing out her gowns. She had to keep herself busy and not let herself think of what might happen to him.

  She must hold on tight.

  CHAPTER 11

  You could go without me,” Gregor said. He shifted restlessly in the back of the wagon. “I am delaying you. I can follow tomorrow when I have more strength.”

  “You go with us,” Jordan told him. “It will take only an hour or so more to reach Cambaron.”

  Gregor looked at Marianna, who was waiting on the seat of the wagon. “I think an hour means a great deal to her at this time. Though she is taking this better than I thought she would.”

  “Because she hasn’t exploded and torn us to pieces? I wish she would. She’s wound too taut. She may break.” His gaze went to Marianna’s pale, strained face and then quickly shifted back to Gregor. He smiled mirthlessly. “At least you’re safe from her wrath. You’ve already been punished for your sins.”

  “Not enough. It was a very great sin.”

  “My sin. My responsibility. If he dies, it will be—” He broke off and then said, “But he’s not going to die.” He drew the blanket higher around Gregor. “Try not to move or you’ll start the bleeding again. Besides the inconvenience of having to take your corpse back to Kazan, I’m going to need you.”

  He went around to the front of the wagon and climbed onto the seat beside Marianna.

  Dorothy was waiting in the courtyard as the wagon rolled through the gates.

  She stepped f
orward. “I’m sorry about the lad,” she said to Marianna. “I’m sure Jordan will get him back.”

  “You know?”

  “I sent a rider with a message before we left Dalwynd to tell Dorothy the boy had been taken.” Jordan jumped down from the wagon. “I thought it would save you distress.” He lifted her down from the wagon. “God knows, there isn’t much else I can do right now.”

  “You’ve probably already done quite enough,” Dorothy said grimly. “I don’t understand any of this. But if it has anything to do with that Corsican, you had no right to involve the child.”

  “Do you suppose you could refrain from heaping guilt on my head and see to Gregor? The trip wasn’t easy for him.” He smiled bitterly. “And, yes, I know, that’s my fault too.”

  “I’m glad you admit it.” She immediately took charge, directing servants, sending for the physician in the village. Then, taking Marianna’s arm, she whisked her toward the front door.

  “I’ll be waiting in the study, Marianna,” Jordan said quietly.

  She nodded but didn’t look at him as she let Dorothy lead her into the castle and up the stairs to her chamber.

  “You’re as cold as a block of ice,” Dorothy said as she knelt at the hearth and stoked the flames. “Come and get warm.”

  Marianna wanted to tell her that no fire could rid her of this chill, but Dorothy was being kind. She crossed the room and held her hands out to the fire.

  “Why would they take the boy? Do they think Jordan will ransom him?” Dorothy asked.

  “Perhaps.” She had never told Dorothy the details of her life before she came to Cambaron, and there was no use confiding in her now. She would not have understood a world so violent and alien to her own. “If you please, I don’t want to talk about it now.”

  “Of course.” Dorothy moved brusquely toward the door. “Will you come down to supper?”

  “No.” Jordan had said she must stay in her room in order that Nebrov’s messenger would have to come to her. He had set a watch in a room down the hall and would know who came and went.

  “Then I’ll see that something’s brought up to you.” Dorothy paused at the door, hesitating. “And I wish you to know that I do not condemn you for going with Jordan to Dalwynd. Your loss of virtue was not your fault, and I shall still look on you exactly as I did before.”