A hard swallow went through his throat before his chest lifted as air filled his lungs. The darkest flecks in his grey eyes were bright. “I never could deny you, Talia.”
She laughed, hard, her body shaking, her face unable to decide if she was smiling or crying. Both, she realized.
Lifting her head from his, she sat straight as she grabbed a handkerchief from the side table to wipe the wetness from her cheeks. She looked at Fletch. He was watching her as if she had gone half mad.
Her right hand slipped along the coverlet to wrap around the side of his belly. “Well, I am relieved we are done with that death business.”
A smile cut onto his handsome face—handsome even if all the color hadn’t returned to his cheeks. “Help me sit up?”
Talia nodded, helping him to lean up and grabbing pillows to prop him in the bed. She tucked the sheet around his bare chest and then grabbed water from the side table, holding it to his lips until he took several swallows.
Fletch situated, she sat on the side of the bed, her fingers tucked along his far hip, unwilling to let her hands leave his body.
His fingers lifted, rubbing his brow. “What happened? I went after Roserton and then blackness, and then…then there was a man?”
She nodded. “Dr. Terrental. He is still here. You need to properly meet him.”
“Where did he come from?”
“I rented the townhouse at the end of the block and installed him in it. I even insisted he see his patients and do surgeries there. I wanted him close at all times.”
“You what?” Fletch’s dark eyebrows flew upward, incredulous.
“If something happened to you, I knew he would be the best person to help you. So I needed him readily available. I met him through Mr. Flemstone. He also works for the Wotherfeld Hospital, and you know they are focused on discovery—on the most advanced medical knowledge.”
Fletch’s eyebrows dropped to their normal position, yet his head tilted as his eyes narrowed at her. “I thought you said you didn’t believe in this curse, Talia.”
“I don’t.” She smirked. “You are alive, ergo, no curse.”
Fletch cleared his throat.
She held his stare for a moment before breaking, her fingers tapping on his abdomen. “Yet, I was not about to leave such an important matter as your life up to fate alone. Even a curse can be nudged.” She leaned forward, meeting his gaze. “But it was you that fought, Fletch. Fought for us. Fought to live. Dr. Terrental only gave you a path back. You did the rest.”
Fletch took a deep breath, the air filling his chest, only to have the motion cut short with a sudden pained cough. His hand went flat onto his chest. “Just what was it that Dr. Terrental did to me? My chest feels like a horse kicked me.”
“He beat your heart. Pounded it quite soundly. He said it had slowed to nothing, and it needed prodding.” Her hand waved. “Well, not in those exact terms, his were much more medical. Mr. Flemstone translated for me.”
“How did Dr. Terrental know what to do?”
“He didn’t know for certain, but he thought he could help when I asked him months ago after Mr. Flemstone introduced me to him. It was why I had him move in only steps away, so he could be here in seconds.” Talia shifted on the bed, tightening her hold along his hip. “I had been spending so much time with Mr. Flemstone in Louise’s room, that I started asking him questions about what he thought could have contributed to the deaths of your brother and father and grandfathers.
“He found the mystery of the curse interesting—and not at all scientific—so I asked him to speak with Aunt Penelope, and with any and every one that witnessed your brother, father or grandfathers’ deaths. Mr. Flemstone found enough commonality in their deaths that he introduced me to Dr. Terrental, a colleague of his at the Wotherfeld Hospital.”
“Why?”
“Through his interviews, Mr. Flemstone believed your brother, father and grandfather all died of a weak heart. No curse. Just temperamental hearts. He thought there would be a chance to save you, and Dr. Terrental is the leading physician of research on the heart and how blood moves through the body. He has been collecting everything and anything of value from doctors, physicians, surgeons, apothecaries—methods, medicines, herbs, battlefront practices—he collects the research and synthesizes the information to determine best options for saving lives.”
“Such as pulverizing my chest?”
She smiled. “Such as pulverizing your chest.”
“You never truly believed in the curse, did you, Talia? I thought you had changed your mind after Wellfork Castle.”
She shrugged. “I realized it didn’t matter whether the curse was real or not, I was still going to do everything in my power to save you.”
“And not tell me.”
Her head tilted, scolding. “Not let you talk me out of Dr. Terrental’s assistance. I was not about to lose you if I could alter the course of fate.”
A soft knock came from the door.
“Yes?” Talia asked.
“It is Reggard. We heard voices.”
“Come in,” Talia said, staying on the bed next to Fletch but turning to the entrance.
Reggard stepped in, closing the door behind him. His look found Fletch, and he visibly exhaled, relief in his eyes. “I apologize for the interruption, but I assumed you would want any additional worry eased, Talia, so I am to report your sister and Mr. Flemstone were married an hour ago, per your request.”
Talia inhaled a long breath, relief filling her chest. “Thank you. That does ease my worry.”
Reggard offered a slight smile. “I also know that Fletch will want to be assured that the other matter was taken care of.”
Talia’s eyes swung to Fletch.
He glanced from her to Reggard. “Roserton?”
Reggard nodded. “Caine and I dragged him off. It was made known to him—in no uncertain terms—that Talia will always be protected by the two of us as well. That every single threat you made to him would be executed, without mercy, should he decide to disregard your warning and so much as think about Talia and her family.”
Talia’s breath caught in her throat, gasping. She looked at Fletch, and then back to Reggard. “I—that you—”
Reggard offered a crooked smile. “We are family, Talia. Worry over a sniveling bastard like that never needs to be a part of your life again.”
She nodded, her throat too welled up in gratitude to speak.
“Well done, man,” Fletch said. “Thank you.”
With a nod, Reggard turned to exit. He paused at the door, looking over his shoulder at them. “Oh, and you should know I broke his wrist.”
“You what?” Talia’s eyes went wide.
“That was retribution.” Reggard shrugged. “The pinky I broke of his was just because he is an arse of the highest order.”
Fletch chuckled. “Again. Well done, man.”
Reggard slipped out of the room.
Talia turned her attention back to Fletch. “You told them of Roserton, what he did, what he threatened?”
“I did.”
“But that is private, Fletch, what happened to Louise.”
“I understand, but Reggard and Caine are trusted—they will keep the confidence to the grave.”
She stared at him, her frown deepening.
Fletch sighed, his arm lifting to set his palm along her cheek. “I had to do it. You may not have wanted to imagine the possibility of me dying, Talia, but I had to consider it. What it would entail. I had to cover everything I could possibly think of to protect you, and that meant Caine and Reggard being privy to everything.” His fingers dropped, sliding down alongside her neck. “It is my right to take care of you without you knowing, Talia, just as you did for me.”
Her frown eased. “I cannot argue with that logic.”
“No, you cannot.”
He tugged at her neck and she leaned forward, setting her cheek onto his, the rough stubble on his jawline rubbing her skin. She inhale
d, taking the scent of him into her chest, letting it fill her, warm her.
He was alive. Tremors still ran down her spine at how very close she had come to losing him. “Thank you for not dying.”
His jaw flexed against her cheek. “I died, Talia. I was gone.”
She inhaled sharply, his words instantly sending her body into a tremble.
He pulled his head from hers and captured her face between his hands, his fingers twining into her hair. His grey eyes found hers, his soul on full display. “I died. But then I heard your voice.”
“You did?”
“It was darkness, and then your voice, telling me to fight.”
“And you did.”
“Yes. I did. I promised I would. A promise you demanded of me.”
Her head dropped as tearless, silent sobs racked her body. Fletch’s hands slipped to the back of her head, his fingers weaving into her hair, a silent comfort.
It took minutes for her to hold her breathing in check. For her to look up at him. “Promise me. If that ever happens again, you will fight just the same. You will come back to me. You know you can do it now.” She smiled. “And I can beat your chest just as hard as Dr. Terrental, if needed.”
“I do not doubt it.”
“Promise me.”
“I promise.”
He smiled, the curious, wondrous smile he reserved for her alone. “Now, Talia, about this child of mine you are carrying.”
A smile took over her face, took over the room, took over her husband.
“Yes, about that child. We have some planning to do, Fletch.”
{ Epilogue }
Fifty years later
January, 1873
Talia’s hand slipped over the smooth, well-worn pigeon with only minute traces of the gold gilding remaining, the ruby eyes long since surrendered to vanishing in the streets of London. But Aunt Penelope had always had it right. A cane was useful.
She lifted the stick, swatting the butt of her oldest great-grandson running by, who was gleefully terrorizing two of his younger cousins with a toad that had just squirted in his hand.
He stopped and gave her a look, sheepish, his head falling. His brown hair fell in front of his grey eyes as he looked at his toes.
“Edward, you know very well Penny has a fear of toads,” Talia said. “Not to mention this is the drawing room and toads do not belong in the drawing room. Your mother will have a fit if she sees you inside with it. Put that poor thing back in the garden this instant.”
He nodded, his eyes down. “Yes, MiMi.” He was the oldest, but still young enough to take a scold with proper chagrin.
“Off with you, then.” Talia swatted the side of his leg with her cane.
He scampered off, leaving the room, and within moments, Talia could hear the renewed squeals of his cousins from deep in the manor.
Next to her on the settee, Fletch folded his newspaper, looking at her over the spectacles on the edge of his nose. “The boy at least pretended to be contrite, Talia. I daresay he gets credit for that, in the least.”
She chuckled, watching the same mischievous smile she had just seen on Edward appear on her husband’s face. Wrinkles aside, Fletch was still the man she had fallen in love with fifty years ago, the dark flecks in his grey eyes still dancing bright. It was no wonder she loved him a thousand-fold over now.
She sighed, shaking her head as she settled her cane alongside her leg.
“Talia?”
“Yes, Fletch?”
“You were right about the curse.”
She looked to him.
The mischievous smile still played on his lips. She gave him a curt nod. “Thank you. Fifty years, that took you.”
He shrugged. “I didn’t want to tempt fate.”
He lifted his arm, settling it along her shoulders as he pulled her into him. Their muscles had weakened, their hair had whitened, their voices had gone scratchy with time. But this. For all the change—this was still her most favorite place in the world.
She nuzzled her cheek onto his chest, into the well-worn curve that still fit her head perfectly. “Let it never be said I did not marry a smart man.”
His kissed the top of her head. “And I, a smart woman.”
~ Author’s Note ~
Thank you so much for taking this latest trip back in time with me!
Word of mouth is crucial for any author to succeed. If you liked reading Promise, Lords of Action, please consider leaving a brief review—even if it is only a line or two, it is an enormous help. I truly appreciate the reader’s words and thank you so much!
What’s next? Of course it’s Lord Reggard’s story! Look for Oath, Lords of Action in the winter of 2015/16.
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More of my Books
Historical Romance
If you haven’t already, be sure to check out my other historical romances—each is a stand-alone story and they can be read in any order (here they are in order of publication):
Stone Devil Duke, Hold Your Breath, currently free!
Unmasking the Marquess, Hold Your Breath
My Captain, My Earl, Hold Your Breath
Worth of a Duke, Lords of Fate
Earl of Destiny, Lords of Fate
Marquess of Fortune, Lords of Fate
Vow, Lords of Action
Promise, Lords of Action
Oath, Lords of Action (Winter 2015/16)
Paranormal Romance
Flame Moon #1, currently free!
Triple Infinity, Flame Moon #2
Flux Flame, Flame Moon #3
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Stone Devil Duke
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The first in the Hold Your Breath series by K.J. Jackson
Historical romance with strong women, undeniable men, and hold your breath adventure.
Marked for death, Lady Augustine Christopherson finds herself scouring the slums of London in a desperate search to find the men who killed her father, and are determined to dispose of her. To protect her family, to protect herself, she is determined to find the men before they find her. The last thing she wanted was an entanglement with a duke that threatens her very survival…
Hardened long ago, the last thing the Duke of Dunway wanted was an entanglement with a chit of the ton. But in the flash of a pistol, his fate is altered as he finds himself honor-bound to protect Lady Augustine from, of all things, herself.
Order your copy today
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Unmasking the Marquess
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The second in the Hold Your Breath series by K.J. Jackson
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Some people are born with backbone. Others have to fight for it.
List in-hand of suitable bachelors, Lady Reanna Halstead, the epitome of naivety, is thrust into London society with demands to gain a husband. To her utter amazement, she manages to capture the attentions of the Marquess of Southfork. Her love, dreams, and future are soon pinned on her marriage to this one man. One handsome, kind, fantastic man.
One man, who has a very different idea of what this marriage will be.
He will be hated, before he is loved.
Killian Hayward, Marquess of Southfork, is only one step away from completing the revenge he has fought his entire life for. All he has to do is marry Lady Halstead. The one woman that is the key to his revenge. To his peace.
The one woman that will threaten the very foundatio
n of his entire existence.
Order your copy today!
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My Captain, My Earl
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The third in the Hold Your Breath series by K.J. Jackson
Historical romance with strong women, undeniable men, and hold your breath adventure.
One destined to live life on the seas.
As captain of the Windrunner, Katalin Dewitt has one mission in life. Serve the ship. The ship that has been her home her entire life. The ship that is the key to keeping her father safe from certain death.
She never expected to take pity on an injured deckhand from an enemy ship and allow him onto the Windrunner. And she certainly never expected to allow him into her life.
One determined to make his way home.
Bound, gagged, and held captive on one ship after another for two long years, Jason Christopherson had long since given up hope of ever getting back to land, much less to his beloved England.
He never expected to land on a pirate ship, bound for land. And he certainly never expected to fall in love with his new captain, threatening the one thing he needed most in life–to return home.
Neither expected to fall in love. Neither expected to be torn apart by a brutal betrayal.
Order your copy today!
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Worth of a Duke
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The first in the Lords of Fate series by K.J. Jackson
Historical romance with strong women, undeniable men, and hold your breath adventure.
One on the wrong side of the ocean.
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Promise: A Lords of Action Novel Page 23
