The Dangers of Doing Good (Arrangements, Book 4)

by Rebecca Connolly

  Colin dismounted and shrugged. “So we start banging on doors.”

  The others looked bewildered as Colin strode to the first abysmal looking home and pounded on the door. Duncan looked at his friends and swallowed the lump in his throat. Colin was right. This was no time for pride, or hysterics.

  He dismounted and followed Colin’s example, moving to the shops and vendor stands just beyond.

  Soon all five of them were knocking at houses and begging for help, but no one seemed to know anything at all about where the Ramseys actually lived. Frank had always brought his horses to the stockyard, never showing anybody where he kept the animals in the meantime. And nobody knew much about Annie, save that she was shy, small, and usually beat up.

  Duncan would have liked to burn the entire place to the ground for their incompetence, but he knew many other villages would have been exactly the same.

  As the sun rose higher into the sky, Duncan became more and more distracted, his mind growing frazzled and frantic. What was he supposed to do if he could not find her? Break down every door in this godforsaken place until he had answers? He was willing to do so, but it wouldn’t help.

  There was no answer at the inn, so he could not even have Mrs. Burton’s aid. No one paid any attention to Frank or Annie Ramsey, and no one seemed to give any heed to the fact that he was a man in distress.

  He ran his hands over his stubbled face and fought the urge to groan aloud.

  “Mr. Bray, isn’t it?”

  Duncan’s head shot up and he looked around at whoever had spoken. His eyes caught sight of a familiar face, but it took him a moment to place it. “Mr. Lyman,” he finally said, his voice catching with relief.

  Lyman nodded in greeting. “You look like a man in need. What can I do?”

  Duncan gripped the man’s shoulder. “I need to know where the Ramseys live.”

  “Why?” Lyman asked with some concern. “What happened?”

  Duncan quickly related the briefest version he could, and he could tell from the firm set of his jaw that Lyman knew exactly what all of this could entail.

  Lyman sighed and squeezed the bridge of his nose. “I can take you there,” he said slowly, “but I can promise you that nothing can be done without the magistrate, and he is less than inclined to help when it’s against his interest.”

  Duncan groaned and looked at his friends, who were standing around him. “He’s in Ramsey and Thorpe’s pockets?”

  “He is,” Lyman admitted, looking up at him again. “Most of this place is. It’s why no one will help you.”

  “Except you.”

  Lyman smiled briefly. “Except me. I’m new here and have yet to fall into corruption.”

  “Thank God for that,” Geoff muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.

  Lyman nodded once, then looked back at Duncan. “The magistrate here is Mr. Bridgewell. Rarely sober and even more rarely accommodating. So unless any of you are willing to actually commit a crime punishable by imprisonment or deportation…”

  “I wouldn’t put it past us,” Derek said, seeming to consider the idea.

  Mr. Lyman smiled thinly. “He does owe me for treating his horse, so if you will give me a few minutes, I’ll convince him it’s only a formality and some men of high standing will be most appreciative.”

  Derek sighed and nodded. “I’ll pay him for his troubles.”

  “I will pay him,” Duncan corrected.

  Derek snorted. “You will beat him to a pulp. Let me do this, Duncan.”

  Sensing this was not a battle worth fighting, Duncan nodded his assent, and they waited none-too-patiently for Mr. Lyman to reappear with the incompetent magistrate.

  Soon enough, they were back and Derek gave Duncan a grim nod. “It is done. No matter what we find, they will never be troubling Annalise again. They won’t be troubling anyone.”

  Only slightly mollified, Duncan returned the nod. He didn’t need to know what Derek had threatened, or what influence he had pulled, and he didn’t care. So long as Annalise would be safe, it was enough.

  The group made their way back through the village, and then turned up a country road that Duncan suddenly recollected. It was clear now, but when it was covered with snow, it had looked quite different. Which meant that patch of trees over there…

  His breath caught and he urged his horse harder for the first place he had come across her. Pale and shaking and injured as she had been, she had been equally beautiful. Tragic, certainly, but beautiful nonetheless.

  “What is it?” Colin asked softly as he approached him.

  Duncan had not been aware that he had stopped. He swallowed and looked at the small trickle of a creek that had once seemed so vast and dangerous. “This is where I first saw her,” he rasped.

  They were all silent for a moment.

  “Come on,” Geoff urged in his quiet, calm manner. “Lyman says we’re nearly there.”

  With no less speed, but infinitely more caution, they rode up the hill. And presumably, towards the house. He held his breath as he crested the hill, not entirely sure he wanted to see the sight of all the misery and pain Annalise had endured.

  The house was still a good distance from them, but it was visible. It was hardly fit for pigs, let alone a young woman. The walls were filthy and damaged, and from his distance he could see cracks and holes that meant winter would have been torment. Smoke rose from a crooked chimney, and a well-constructed and clean barn with stables was nearby. Funny that a man should put so much care and concern into his livestock and not into his flesh and blood.

  Rage swelled within his gut and he felt himself growl.

  “Steady,” Nathan urged him, riding alongside. “Save it.”

  He nodded, unable to vocalize his distress.

  What state would Annalise be in? Would they have ruined her beyond what his love could heal? Would she have been beaten again? Would she be worse?

  Was she even alive?

  She had to be, he reasoned within himself. She was no good to either of them dead.

  He would be no good to anyone if she were dead.

  “RAMSEY!” he bellowed as they approached, feeling more animal than man at this moment, and not caring.

  “THORPE!” Nathan roared, widening out to prevent any escape.

  Two men exited the house, casually dressed, and obviously drunk, but Duncan did not miss the recognition in Thorpe’s face when he saw them. The man bolted, but Derek chased after him and corralled him back towards the house. His friends all dismounted, Derek and Nathan pulling out guns that were unnervingly steady.

  Duncan let his gaze rove over Frank Ramsey, the man who should have loved and cared for Annalise, who should have fought for every right and privilege for her, who should have been her prime example of love and family. The man who betrayed her beyond any hope of reckoning.

  He spared no thought or look for Thorpe. Not yet.

  “Who are you?” Ramsey asked, spitting on the ground.

  Duncan snarled and vaulted from his horse. He marched up to the weasel and took fistfuls of his shirt, shoving him against the shabby walls of the house.

  He leaned in as close as he dared, and through clenched teeth asked, “Where is she?”

  It seemed Frank Ramsey had some intelligence after all. He didn’t ask whom he meant, and his eyes flicked to the barn as he swallowed frantically, hands feebly trying to loosen Duncan’s grasp.

  Duncan flung him away and ran, full tilt, for the barn. His heart felt as if it were beating in his throat, he could not breathe, could barely see, yet his legs continued to move beneath him. He wrenched the double doors open with an agitated grunt, and stumbled in, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the sudden darkness.

  When they did, he wished for darkness again.

  In the dirtiest corner of the barn, just opposite the last stall, hands tied to a hook on the wall was Annalise. Her clothing was ripped, and angry, bloody cuts lay beneath the tears. Her skin was pale and discolored, her hair matt
ed, and she hung limply from her hands as if she were made of rags. Her head was down, and she hardly moved. He had never seen anything look more lifeless.

  A rough, strangled cry was ripped from his throat as he found himself hurtling towards her. He took her face in his hands, pushing the hair back from her face. A rag had been fastened around her mouth tightly, and frantically his fingers worked to loosen it.

  She jerked suddenly in his hold, her eyes flying open. One eye was swollen nearly shut for the bruising around it, and a cut lashed out from the corner of her lip, though the blood was dry. A startled whimper escaped her and her breathing quickened in panic.

  “Shh, shh,” he soothed, his voice choked with tears. “Annalise, it’s me. It’s all right, it’s me, shh.”

  At long last her unfocused eyes found him. She stared in confusion, then moistened her cracked lips. “Duncan?” she wheezed. “Duncan, is it really you?”

  He laughed breathlessly once and rubbed a hand over her hair. “Yes, sweetheart, it’s me.” He shielded her head as he pulled hard at the ropes keeping her hands suspended, and sawdust, hay, and shards of wood rained down on them briefly. He was quick to free her hands entirely, his eyes burning as he focused on the task.

  “You came…?” she asked him, as if she didn’t understand. A stray tear leaked out of her eye as her now freed hands reached for his jaw. “I dreamed of you, I called out for you over and over… You really came?”

  “Of course, I came,” he said hoarsely, no longer in control of his emotions. He captured her wrists in his hands and stroked her abraded skin softly. “It’s not that easy to walk out of my life, Annalise Ramsey, and if you ever do anything so foolish again…” He could not finish the sentence and hauled her against his chest, burying his face in her hair. “Don’t ever leave me again. Ever. Do you hear me? I’ve never been more frightened in all my life.”

  “I’m sorry,” she whimpered, crying in earnest now as she clung to him.

  “I don’t want you to be sorry. I want…” He shook his head and gripped her as tightly as he could without causing her pain. “Oh, Annalise. What were you thinking? Why did you leave?”

  “They were going to hurt you and Tibby.”

  “You could have come to me! I would have taken care of everything!”

  “I couldn’t risk you getting hurt or worse.” She shook her head against him. “I wouldn’t risk you.”

  He pushed her back just enough to caress her lips gently with his own, not caring that she would taste the saltiness of his tears, or feel the yearning in his heart. She was here, she was alive, and he would be damned if he would ever let her go again. Her response was innocently eager, and not nearly so careful as his, a tender passion ringing through them both. There was no beginning and no end, just one unending series of delicate, delicious kisses that spoke volumes, yet were not enough.

  He broke off and tucked her under his chin, ending the kiss before he would have liked, but there would be time for that later. There would be time for everything. All he needed now was to hold her, to remind himself that she was really here…

  Her arms reached around his neck as she began to shudder with sobs. Duncan groaned and held her close, his own tears coming in earnest. He tried to soothe her as best as he could, but he was so overcome himself that all could do was cling to her and let her cry, let them both cry, until his heart was no longer racing. And he did not care how long that took.

  He scattered grazing kisses along her face, her hair, her wounds, any place he could get to, and then finally, rested his face in her hair as his shudders began to subside.

  When Annalise was once again quiet and still, Duncan took a clean blanket from the stall, wrapped her in it, then gathered her up and stood, murmuring soothing words into her ear as he carried her out of the barn. She shivered against the cold and he feathered his lips along her brow. They approached the others, and Nathan was instantly to him.

  “Take her,” Duncan ordered softly, stroking Annalise’s cheek. “And send Lyman for a coach.”

  Nathan nodded and took Annalise from him, holding her gently. He turned her face into his chest, shielding her from her brother and tormentor as he pulled his coat around her.

  Duncan stepped away from his friend as he did as he bid, inhaled slowly, and exhaled for a long moment. Then he turned and faced Ramsey and Thorpe.

  Both cowered under his gaze.

  Geoff and Colin stepped back a bit and let him get as close as he dared.

  He looked between the two of them, feeling the seething wrath burn in him like flames. “I should do to you exactly what you have done to her,” he said, his voice menacing and dangerous. “You deserve to have the same beating and thrashing and worse, and Lord knows, I want to beat you until your blood pools on the ground at my feet. But that would make me no better than you. And I am better than you.”

  “Amen,” Geoff murmured behind him.

  Colin cleared his throat. “Lucky for us, I’m more than willing to sink to your level. So once Duncan gets one good swing on each of you and turns his back, I’m taking over.”

  Duncan mentally applauded his friend’s earnestness, but he would not dwell on it. He looked between the two men again, then swung at the brother and sent him flying across the yard. He turned to Thorpe, who looked more like a cowed chicken than a man. He thought of all this man had threatened, all the fear he had caused Annalise, and suddenly, it was easy. He grinned and forced all of his might behind his fist as it connected with Thorpe’s chin.

  The man lay in the dirt moaning, but Duncan no longer cared about him. About either of them. He looked up at the sound of wheels. Lyman rode up with a coach and driver, then came over to him, nodding in acknowledgement.

  Duncan sighed and walked back towards his friends. “Take care of this,” he hissed to no one in particular.

  “With pleasure,” Geoff growled, surprising him. But the others looked just as determined. Even Derek, usually disinclined to violence, was now rolling up his sleeves.

  Duncan took Annalise from Nathan’s hold, nodded his thanks, and turned away from them all, heading directly for the carriage.

  He didn’t say another word until they were sitting in the coach and heading back for London. He wouldn’t have said anything at all, but Annalise stirred and slid from his lap to sit next to him.

  She took one of his hands in hers. “I am so sorry,” she whispered.

  “No,” he insisted, taking her chin in hand and lifting her eyes to his. “No. You have nothing to be sorry for. You thought you needed to sacrifice yourself to protect me. That is my fault. I should have listened to you, really listened to your fears. And I should have told you… how I felt, what I had planned. If I had, this would never have happened. This is my fault.”

  She hastily shook her head. “No, Duncan, no.”

  “Yes, Annalise.” He sighed and took her hands, squeezing tightly. “If you knew… if you believed… you would never have gone away with him. You would have stayed. With me.”

  “W-what are you saying?” she whispered.

  He looked at her with so much emotion he ached with it. “Do you really not know?” he murmured, stroking one of her soft, pale cheeks. “After all we have been through, after all we have shared…” He ran one finger down her cheek and across her chin. “Annalise…”

  “Don’t say it…” she whispered, her green eyes searching his. “Don’t say it unless you mean it, Duncan, I can’t…”

  He surged forward and captured her lips with his own, swallowing her words and her soft moan of release with a satisfied growl that he felt to his toes.

  “I love you,” he said fiercely as he touched his brow to hers. “I have loved you every day from the moment I saw you. I wanted to give you a chance to choose, to find someone that would suit you better, someone who would be more worthy of you, but…”

  Annalise brought her hand to his cheek with a sigh. “I want you, Duncan. I always wanted you.”

  He pulled b
ack and looked at her in awe. “What?”

  “I love you, too,” she whispered as she stroked his cheek and jaw, smiling at him. “I love you so much.”

  He smiled and pressed his lips to her once, twice, three times, and just when she leaned in for another, he grinned and rapped on the ceiling of the coach, then moved to the door and dropped the window. He stuck his head out and yelled something to the coach driver, then sat back down and pulled Annalise into his lap.

  Suddenly, the coach slowed, and the unmistakable sensation of turning around commenced. The coach lurched forward and started heading in the opposite direction.

  Annalise pushed some hair behind her ear and looked up at him with a smile. “Where are we going?”

  “Gretna.”

  She reared back. “Gretna?”

  He gave her a very serious look. “I’m marrying you. As soon as possible. That is what happens there.”

  She shoved at his chest impatiently. “Yes, I know what happens in Gretna, but…”

  He once again took her face in his hands. She had to understand. “I love you more than I have words to say,” he said in a low, fierce voice, finally succeeding in silencing her protests. He reached into his pocket and pulled out her ring, making her gasp. “I love you, Annalise. We are already engaged, we had the ball to prove it, and I am holding the ring I chose specifically for you.”

  “Duncan…” she whispered, letting him slide the ring back onto her finger.

  The hand still on her face stroked her skin softly. “I almost lost you forever, and I’m never letting you go again. Ever,” he added with the briefest shake. “And I am certainly not waiting any longer to claim you once and for all as mine and mine alone.”

  He saw her throat work in a hasty swallow. “Oh…”

  “Is that all right?” he asked, suddenly uncertain. Then, thinking he knew just how to convince her, he quirked his mouth in half of a grin. “Or would you prefer Tibby’s version of a wedding?”