He roused himself once she traced her fingertips over his face, his shoulders, his chest. “Alice.” Wonder infused that one-word response. “You came.”
“I did.” She pressed herself against him enough to discern his hands tied behind his back and ropes across his chest that bound him to the tree. “Are you in pain?” Bruises and a few shallow cuts decorated his once proud face. A trickle of dried blood marred his chin.
“My ankle was caught in one of their metal traps as I ran as the wolf,” he said in a low voice, his brown eyes clouded with pain and anger. “They took me unawares; I was distracted, lost in my thoughts, attempting to return to… you.”
“What?” He’d wished to come back? Her heart trembled with renewed hope.
When she finger-combed his disheveled hair away from his brow, he snarled at her, making her doubt the sincerity of his hint. “You shouldn’t have come. Return home immediately. Get far away.” Emotion graveled his voice, but he didn’t expand his command.
Still as stubborn as ever. Oh, how she loved him. “I refuse, and since you obviously cannot take care of yourself, I’ll have to rescue you.” She softened the chastisement with a smile. “It’s the least I can do, for you did the same to me at our first meeting.”
“Alice,” he hissed but there was no anger in his eyes. “This isn’t a game. I want you protected.”
“Of course it’s not a game, Your Grace. It is my life—our life—and I must take it in hand.” No matter that she’d been wronged, she intended to fight for what she wanted, especially if he truly had experienced a change.
“Enough.” Joe barged into their space. He slid a beefy hand around her upper arm and tore her away from Donovan. “Why would you do anything for this nob? He used you, or were the rumors wrong?”
The ache around her heart throbbed. “The rumors are not wrong.” She hated that her name and the duke’s had been bandied about by gossips all the way out here in Shalford. Did the whole of England know of their torrid marriage? Then she shrugged, her gaze still on her husband even though he’d become lost in the fuzzy whiteness of her vision. “I love him. Nothing else matters.”
“Ha!” Joe spit on the ground. “He is a monster, sent from the devil himself. There is something evil about a man who isn’t fully human, who possesses dark magic to change into a beast.”
She refused to rise to his challenge. “Whatever Donovan is, whatever he has done, he is still mine, and he is human, with the same rights that you enjoy, except you are acting the animal at present time. I’m honoring my vows to him, and nothing except death can part us.” Standing stiff in Joe’s crushing grip, she dared him to contradict her.
“That can be arranged.” Hatred wove through the reply, and it sent icy terror rushing through her veins. He waved his free hand. “Time to try him by fire, boys. Make him shift so we can send him back to the demons he serves. Men like him are not natural.”
“No!” Alice screamed. Her heartbeat pounded. “Donovan, shift! Show them why you are not to be trifled with.” Surely if he called upon his beast, the strength of the animal could burst from the ropes that bound him. Easily he could take out these men who didn’t wish to understand, who threatened them both. “Give the beast control.”
“What you ask is too much.” Donovan shook his head. “If I assume the wolf, he won’t discern between you and them. He will attack everyone who is here.”
“No. He knows me.” She was sure of it.
“I cannot chance it.” There was a decided growl in his tone, rage barely held in check. “I refuse to risk your safety in order to give these ruffians what they want most, for they won’t hesitate to put me down in my beastly form, and it will be warranted, for I would kill them.”
“But—” Would he not fight for them?
“I am not that man anymore.” His voice had softened. “Because of you, because I wish not to be—for me.”
Oh, Donovan! As much as it made sense, she didn’t like it by half. When she attempted to wrench free from Joe’s hold, he tightened his grip to the point of pain. Tears sprang into her eyes. “I hope you rot in hell for what you’re doing. My husband is a duke. Threatening him, attempting his murder is a crime punishable by hanging.”
“Who will tell once this night is over?” Joe laughed her in face. “And since you’ll be with me, I’ll have no problem keeping you quiet.”
A handful of men swarmed around them, all facing the tree where Donovan was tied. Accusations flew, ranging from him killing their sheep and cows, to him destroying barns and fences, to defiling their daughters. Others claimed to have seen him murder a man in cold blood after he’d shifted from the wolf. Some of the men threw rocks at him. And though all the charges were damning, Alice believed none of them, with the exception of the slaughter of livestock. He was a wolf, after all, and even beasts must eat, but he’d told her he’d never killed or violated humans. It was enough and didn’t sway her own thoughts. After everything they’d been through, if he had done what they said, her husband would have confessed it to her with everything else.
Through it all, Donovan remained silent though he growled and pulled at his bonds. Did he struggle with his wolf? Did it pain him to keep that tight control? Did blood trickle from his wounds? No doubt he glared at them all with arrogance and anger flashing in his eyes. Oh, how she would have loved to see such a sight, but her respect for him grew, for he didn’t once bow to their level nor respond to their taunts. Like the duke he was, he kept his own counsel, bred to withstand torment from the masses.
Or he had truly found peace with what he was at last.
His very reticence sent Joe into a fury. The bigger man yelled, hurled insults at him, never releasing his hold on Alice. And then he apparently found Donovan’s weakness. “What will you do when your whore gets with child and she bears you a beast? Perhaps she’s now as filled with darkness as you, has your devil’s spawn in her belly, and the only way to stop the spread of such evil through England is to kill her, too.”
Gooseflesh popped on Alice’s skin. “No.” She struggled in his hold, certain the man was mad.
“Let her go.” Donovan’s ducal command rang in the night air before she could say anything else. “I will do whatever you ask, submit to any of your insane demands, but you must let Alice go. She deserves none of this and is only here because of me. I want her to live the beautiful life she deserves. The world needs her light.”
“Liar. All of London knows you only wanted her for your game of fate, and since it’s failed, you have no more use for her. She’s but a plaything, nothing more.” Joe’s taunting words stabbed through Alice’s chest as if he’d wielded a physical knife.
“No. You were not given correct information. But then how could you know when I’ve just figured out the puzzle for myself?” Donovan grunted. A rasping sound filled the void as if he chafed against his bonds. “I would gladly give up my life to save hers, for that is what a man in love does.”
…a man in love… Alice gaped. She went slack in Joe’s hold. Does he truly mean those words or did he say them due to the situation? “Oh, Donovan,” she whispered, and when she would have gone to him, the blacksmith yanked her back so that she crashed into his chest. “Is that true?”
“Alice is not leaving Shalford again, but you might if you forsake all rights to your wife, Your Grace.” He spat after he mentioned the duke’s address. “She’ll remain alive, and I won’t give her back to you. She’s mine.”
Heaven save me from overly possessive and stubborn men. “Enough!” Tired of males dictating her life, Alice uttered a garbled cry. She yanked her arm from Joe’s hold, and then determined to guide her own fate, she rushed at her captor, flinging herself into his solid body with enough force that they both fell to the cold grass in a jumbled heap. “When will you understand my life is my own, and always has been?” With each word, she kicked and punched him as they rolled upon the ground. If she wanted a chance with Donovan, she’d have to take it herself.
<
br /> A shout of warning went through the remainder of men assembled, and Alice prayed that Thomas and Elizabeth had chosen that moment to come to her aid. Sounds of skirmishes reached her ears, but she couldn’t spare a second to listen or worry.
She continued to fight against Joe. Scratched at his face with her fingernails, kicked his shins, drove a knee into the soft tissue between his legs, bit his earlobe when he surged against her and pressed her into the dirt. With everything that she was, she would fight until he was either bested or she was. “Being his duchess is my life now. I can help others with that title.” She panted between blows. “No one has the right to take it from me.”
“He is not for you.” Joe got off a slap, and her ears rang from it. “You were content enough here with me.”
“I was never with you! You assumed like everyone else in this village. I’m blind, not an idiot. Why can you not believe I don’t feel for you in that way?” She levered a foot against his belly and shoved. When he fell off her, she scrambled to her feet. “I will say when this portion of my life ends, and damn it all, I have much to keep fighting for.”
“You’re wrong, Alice. He’s cursed.”
“I know.” Perhaps she’d given up on Donovan too soon. No longer would she run to his country estate, not when things had turned a corner. “I want him anyway. Love changes everything.” And it did. It blurred the edges, and like a watercolor painting, it made the harshness softer, more acceptable. She renewed her fight against her captor.
“Remember, you made me do this.” Joe had gained his feet. He came close, and though she attempted to duck around him, he fisted his hand in her hair and wrenched her into forward motion with him, around the fire with its crackling flames and toward the river. “You’re dull, Alice, and in league with dark forces. He’s ruined you.”
“No.” As pain skittered along her scalp, she continued to struggle. “He has, in fact, saved me, perhaps from myself, from a life where I wasn’t fully appreciated.” No amount of clawing at his hand released his hold. “You think a woman is only on this earth to be bedded. I have much to offer beyond that.”
He snorted and continued his relentless stride. “You’re blind. I’m doing you a kindness by offering for you.”
“So that I’d become little more than your slave, reminded every day how you extended charity, like everyone in this village?” Alice snorted. “That is no life.”
The closer they came to the river, the louder the splash of its current grew. Her fear expanded. Joe tightened his grip. “What does the duke have that I don’t?”
She smiled through the fear choking her. “A wolf.” That was the truth. The beast was part of Donovan, and she accepted all of him.
“You’re too far gone to save. I see it now.”
“You see nothing; never have, you great lout.”
“Bitch.” With an enraged cry, he wrapped a beefy arm about her waist and lifted her off her feet. “If I can’t have you, no one will.” Then, with a mighty heave, he threw her from him and she went airborne.
For the space of a few terrifying heartbeats, Alice was weightless. She screamed into the night, and then she crashed into the cold embrace of the river.
Panic surged as the dark water came over her head and she sank beneath the surface. Wet skirts worked to further pull her downward. She fought, but she’d never learned how to swim. There wasn’t a need or an opportunity. Every movement she executed made the situation worse, but when her head broke the surface, she gulped in lungfuls of air. From somewhere in the distance, Elizabeth screamed her name; there was only wet and cold and darkness following.
Then Donovan called to her, asked her to stay with him, but she slipped back under. No matter how hard she fought, she couldn’t find her way back to the surface. How would he know she didn’t wish to run if she couldn’t tell him? The current tugged at her, the skirting twisted about her legs to immobilize them. Her lungs burned, her arms ached. The ever-present panic clogged her throat and the heaviness of the water pressed in on her. So cold. I am so cold. She couldn’t discern the world around her, for everything was dark, even the fuzzy patch in her vision. Drowning was such a horrible way to die.
A disturbance hit the water near to her position. Fear slid down her spine. Perhaps it was Joe coming in to make certain she perished. She flailed in an effort to move away, but her arms and legs wouldn’t work properly. The current was too strong. Alice cried out, forgetting where she was, and muddy water filled her mouth, snatching the remainder of the air she’d horded.
I don’t want to die.
Then a pair of arms wrapped firmly about her waist and she had no more strength to fight, but instead of keeping her down in the murk, the man attached to the arms dragged her up, up, up, and when her head broke the surface, she spat out the water and sucked in as much air as she could, great, gasping gulps mixed with coughing. She cried, so grateful for the ability to breathe, and as she came back to herself, she beat at the chest of the man moving with her toward the bank.
“Alice, hold. It’s me.” Donovan’s tone rumbled in her ear. “How could I let my sweet country flower drown when I’ve only just discovered how much I need her?”
Relief washed over her in warming waves. Love swelled within her chest and she cried for a different reason as she clung to his neck, this man of contrasts, the man who changed her life, rocked it to its very foundations, taught her how to survive, to grow through the greatest of life’s storms.
At the bank, he lifted her up. Elizabeth and Thomas as well as the coach driver helped to pull her from the water and to safety. Once Donovan joined her and picked her up into his arms, he ordered them all back to the London townhouse.
“What will you do about the men who attempted to kill us?” Alice asked, so weary she laid her head on his shoulder as he followed Elizabeth to the coach. “I want them punished.” But if they told of his secret, what would become of Donovan?
“Once young Thomas freed me, I beat Joe bloody, I told the blacksmith that never again would I step foot in Shalford, and if he never set foot out of it, I wouldn’t level charges at him. The same threat was given to the others. And if they bandy about such incredible tales, who will believe them? It’s highly likely they cannot tolerate their ale. Seeing men transform into wolves indeed.”
Despite the gravity of the situation, Alice managed a weak laugh. “Let us pray this is so.”
“I am a duke. It will be.” He pressed his lips against her sopping hair. “Those men don’t matter to me now that I have you.”
With the remainder of her strength, she smiled. It was enough.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
October 7, 1815
Two days had passed since the events of that terrible night when Donovan had feared he’d lose Alice to death’s embrace. Two days since he realized he couldn’t live without her, that he loved her.
Even now he still reeled with the knowledge.
She’d come after him, and that in itself was extraordinary. She’d fought for him no matter what he’d done or said, even when she’d intended to leave. And she’d brought help.
His heart ached and he rubbed the spot above it, though he’d become accustomed to the pain. How many women would have sacrificed all for him? How many would have stood by him, loved him, even after he’d mucked up his life so badly?
Alice would, and she did.
Damnation, but he loved her. She had more integrity and courage in her little finger than he had in his whole body, but he was learning from her. That was a start.
He’d held her in the coach that night during the trip to London, loath to let her go. Elizabeth had wrapped her in a shawl, but still she’d shivered and her teeth chattered from the wet and cold. He’d worn naught but the carriage blanket bundled about his waist, and as they’d traveled, Thomas had dressed Donovan’s shredded ankle with strips from his own livery. Gratitude for these people in his life had overcome him. He’d been an arse, but they’d stood by him regardless.
None of them had conversed during the journey. Elizabeth had apparently taken down two of the men, wielded a large stick from the fire with a rage he hadn’t expected; Thomas incapacitated a third while Donovan had laid into Joe and didn’t stop until the man had been beaten bloody and rendered unconscious. By sheer willpower alone, he’d kept the wolf from taking control. He’d meant every word he’d said to Alice. If he would have shifted, none of those men would have left camp alive, and his sanity, his very humanity, would have been lost.
That wasn’t who he was anymore.
I could have fought well and you know it, his wolf protested.
We are held to a higher standard, and you know that, he reminded his furry half. If you and I are to co-exist, we do it on my terms. Period. No more mindless violence, no more bloody anger.
His wolf whined, but didn’t comment.
Once in London, Griggs had taken over and acted out Alice’s orders. He’d whisked Donovan upstairs for a warm bath and properly dressed his ankle, and then tea was administered, copious amounts, until his body temperature had come back up. Alice was sent to her room and given into the care of an army of servants who’d been only too glad to see her return to their loving fold. After, she was sent to bed with a pile of blankets while he’d been assigned to his with the caveat that he’d prop his ankle and not move for a at least two days.
He’d done exactly that, even left Alice alone due to embarrassment and shame and fear that she’d leave once she was able to travel.
What the devil would he say to her anyway?
Give her your everything, his wolf urged. There is nothing else.
Donovan still didn’t know as he stood outside the closed door to the music room while nerves beset him. His ankle throbbed, but since he’d only suffered torn flesh and bruised tendons, he was able to hobble about for short periods. The magic that belonged to his wolf would heal him soon enough.
Devil Take the Duke (Lords of the Night Book 1) Page 25
