Haley had a fleeting sensation of triumph as her fingernails made contact and she heard his hiss of pain, but then she was on the floor and he was on top of her, and the world was fading into a gray mist.
“I’ll have my place in the inner circle of the East India Company, Miss Moreland, and I’ll be one of the richest men in England! But you . . .” He lessened his hold just enough to let her come back to her senses. “You have no idea how much farther you’re going to fall to pay for this little display of temper.”
“He . . . won’t . . . tell you . . . anything.” Every word burned her throat, but fear for Galen overrode everything. “Please . . .”
“You’ll wish you’d died, Miss Moreland.” He hauled himself up, releasing her throat, only to clench his fingers into her hair to begin dragging her from the room. “I don’t think your father will bother looking for you when you send a note advising him that you’ve run off to London to suck cocks for a living.”
“You write one word of lies to my father, and I’ll—”
Rand’s hand twisted against her scalp and Haley’s threat was cut off with a yelp. She screamed as she was forced to reach up to hold his wrists to prevent him from scalping her, but she did her best to kick out to slow his progress, her mind scrambling for a way to avoid being thrown into his carriage and lost forever. Even so, she was relentlessly being taken from the only home she’d ever known, and step by cruel step, Haley began to cry out in despair and horror at what might lie ahead.
Chapter 30
“Rand! You bastard!” Galen roared as he came through the front door. “Let go of her, you son of a bitch!”
Bascombe complied, letting go of her hair more out of shock than a probable spirit of compliance. She fell backward against the bucket on the floor, sprawling on the marble but safe for the moment. Galen wasted no time, his momentum and fury too great to allow Rand to rethink her release or use her as a shield. Like a tiger, he launched himself at the older man, who was spared slightly as the slick marble floor robbed Galen of the traction he needed to use every ounce of force at his command.
The men flew to the hard stone floor in a tangle of limbs, and Bascombe grunted at the impact, instinctively lifting his forearm to strike Galen across the jaw, and the true struggle began. Bascombe was older, and much stronger than he appeared, but Galen had the advantage of height and power.
Bascombe pulled his arm back again, to try to hold Galen at a distance or push him away, but Galen shifted back only far enough to give himself room to strike back as hard as he could with his free hand. Bascombe kicked his legs and offset the blow, groaning at the pain all the same as Galen’s fist connected with his cheek. Galen’s hold on Bascombe was like iron, and he pulled back to hit him again only to lose his balance as Bascombe pushed directly against the floor instead of his opponent for leverage.
Galen rolled easily, spinning back with a snarl to prepare to launch himself at Rand again. But this time, he hesitated and his fists were stilled in front of him.
For Rand now held a small pistol in his hand, and his eyes were full of murderous loathing as he stared at Galen. The only sounds in the bare hall were the ragged breaths of both men.
“You’re no hero, Hawke! You’re an opportunistic thief, I think, and a selfish bastard!”
“Really?” Galen asked calmly, determined to keep Rand’s attention focused entirely on him. “How is that?”
“You and your friends . . . what harm in sharing your good fortune, eh? What harm in letting a few others in on your secrets? Many would have said it was a patriotic duty to crown and country to spread that wealth. But nothing I’ve tried has yielded any success—not even trying to bribe your dear Miss Moreland. Stupid slut!” Rand lifted the gun, leveling it directly at Galen’s chest. “And so here we are. But let’s be civilized, shall we?”
“By all means.”
“Tell me where the treasure is located and we’ll call it even, Lord Winters.”
“Even? I give you the map to unimaginable wealth, and . . . what do I get again?” he asked, deliberately not looking toward Haley, silently praying she’d quietly make an escape while she could.
“I’ll spare your life!”
“I’m naturally grateful for that, but then again, what assurances do I have that you’ll keep your word after I’ve told you everything you want to know?”
“None.” Bascombe’s look was pure venom as he smiled in triumph. “But you’ll do it all the same if you want to live.”
Galen made a show of considering his situation. “Hmmm. Sleepless nights, assassins at my doorstep, short-sighted treasure hunters waving pistols in my face, and . . . oh, yes, the nebulous threat of death to everyone I hold dear by relying on the honor of an openly unstable and stupid man.” He made a subtle shift of his weight onto the balls of his feet. “It doesn’t sound like much of a choice, Bascombe.”
Bascombe hissed in displeasure and decided on another strategy. “Well, then, to hell with your life! What about hers?” He moved the gun away from Galen to aim it toward Haley—but Galen had been waiting for just such a moment and charged him once again, this time to reach with both hands to strike down Bascombe’s arm and break it if he could.
“Get off!” Bascombe growled as they locked grips in a macabre dance trying to gain control of the gun and each other.
Galen rewarded him with a wicked grin. “Ah! There’s that stupidity I’m coming to enjoy!”
Bascombe’s rage was explosive and gave him a burst of strength, but Galen cared for nothing but the gun and keeping his opponent’s emotions churned and distracted away from Haley. Blood from scratches on Rand’s face gave him a demonic look, and Galen almost laughed at the strange twist of fate that would pit him against such a creature after so many nightmares—for this battle felt all too familiar—win or lose.
Bascombe must have seen the possessed look in Galen’s face, for his grip on the gun tightened in desperation. Galen tried to keep his feet underneath him, but the slick floor and his soggy state were still working against him, and the barrel of the pistol was coming dangerously close to centering on the center of his chest. The peril was very real, and Bascombe’s grimace turned into a smile as he realized how close he was to victory.
Galen growled and considered in a flash if he should just let gravity do its worst and pray that the jolt of his body on Bascombe’s when they hit the floor would yield him the gun without it firing by accident.
Damn it! I’m failing her! And this time it’s final and fatal . . .
The sound of the bucket striking the back of Bascombe’s skull was like a hollow barrel being dropped onto a stone. Rand Bascombe instantly crumbled at Galen’s feet, and Galen looked up in stunned silence at the sight of Haley struggling to keep her balance as the bucket’s momentum continued, nearly pulling her around.
“I’ve . . . killed him.” She looked at Bascombe’s prostrate form, her eyes wide with horror.
Galen climbed over the man to gain his feet, gently reaching for her and slowly unclasping her ice-cold fingers from the bucket’s rope handle. “No, no, you didn’t kill anyone, even if he deserved it for laying a single finger on you. But he’ll have a headache on the morrow, and he may yet swing from the gallows, but that’s for another day.”
“Y-you’re sure?”
He knelt down and checked the man’s throat for a pulse, swallowing hard at the disappointment when he detected one. Damn. But at least she’s spared it.
He stood, wishing he’d more of Rowan’s compassion. “I’ve seen enough dead men to know the difference. But you most definitely saved my life.” He set the bucket aside and anxiously ran his hands across her shoulders and cupped her face to assure himself that she was in fact, unharmed. He repeated the words and watched the shock fade from her expression. “You saved my life, Haley.”
“You came back.” She was looking at him as if he were an apparition.
“I . . . had to.” Galen swallowed hard and spoke only the simplest truth. “My hor
se became too lame to make it to the village, so I had to double back. Then when Rand’s carriage passed me on the lane, I had a strange feeling that something wasn’t right.”
“You saw him?”
“I recognized his carriage, and from the pace his coachman was setting, they certainly didn’t slow to take notice of me. Then I overheard your screams . . .”
“Oh, my!” Her knees started to buckle, and he caught her easily to carry her back to the only room he was aware of that could offer her a soft place to recover. Settling her onto the sofa, he tried not to convey any sense of hurry, although he was eager to get back to Rand to finish the matter at hand.
“It’s a good thing you never faint.”
“You’re an ogre to tease at such a moment, Galen.”
He nodded. “It’s the least of my sins, Haley. Stay here.”
He left and quickly made his way back to a still unconscious Rand Bascombe. The temptation to kick him didn’t pass, but Galen managed to ignore it all the same and refrain from murdering the man—barely. If he let himself remember Haley’s cries or the way Rand had dared to touch and threaten her—a dark part of him beckoned with rational arguments about their future safety and the expedience of vermin removal in the grand scheme of things. But instead he went to the front door and called out to the waiting footmen. “Come for your man!”
“Yes, your lordship?” They came forward, clearly unaware of the situation.
“Your master is there!” Galen stepped back to give them a good view before he hauled Bascombe up with an ignoble grip on the back of his coat and pants and heaved the man out the front door to land facedown in the mud. “Take him back to London with the regards of the Jaded.”
They complied with sheepish astonishment, managing to lift their filthy employer from the muck with efficiency, if not dignity, as his coat and feet dragged through the mud before they could leverage him into the carriage. Galen stood on the steps and watched the carriage pull away for Bascombe’s uncomfortable journey home.
Serves the bastard right. I’d have killed him if I could, but that may have to wait for another day. . . . I’ll have to get word to the others that . . .
And the worst of it struck him.
Everything that Michael had said about being cautious and taking these threats seriously—he’d ignored almost all of it and mindlessly brought the worst kind of danger to her doorstep. He’d thought only of how much he loved her, how much he desperately wanted to make amends. He’d offered to marry her as if matrimony would insulate her in some way from the worst of the world.
Even that night when that man attacked us with a knife outside the brownstone—I never stopped to think past my own feelings. Like an idiot, I was blinded by the revelation that I truly loved her; so blind I never asked if it was right or wrong to pull her irrevocably into this.
Into the Black . . .
“Galen?” She stood in the arch of the doorway, her expression anxious. “You’re never going to dry if you don’t come out of the rain.”
“Haley . . .” Despair washed through him at the sight of her, and he suspected that there wasn’t an ounce of misery he could ever complain of that he hadn’t earned. “I don’t think anyone has ever . . .” He took a deep breath, then looked back up at her, forcing himself to drink in every detail. Her hair had come down, and she was so beautiful that it was painful to look into her eyes. “I’m so sorry.”
“Galen, you—”
“I never should have come here.” His spine stiffened, and he could have sworn that he could feel his heart turning to stone with each agony-evoking word. But this time, he was determined to put her happiness and well-being above his own. I’m a selfish villain! I could have paid her father’s debts from an anonymous distance and guaranteed her whatever life she desired without plopping myself on her doorstep and leading Bascombe to her. “None of . . . Bascombe threatened you because of me, and I’ll see to it. You’ll have nothing to fear from him or any of his kind, ever again.”
Her hand reached up against the doorframe, as if to steady herself. “You couldn’t have known what Bascombe intended!” She held out her hand. “Come out of the rain, Galen.”
He shook his head. “I’ll send your father back from the village and make sure that you’re not alone. You won’t be troubled with any more of my petitions, Haley.”
“W-what are you saying?” She took a step forward, her eyes darkening.
“It is hard to imagine loving a woman more, or thinking that anyone has ever felt this way . . . but I’ll not see you cursed with me. I’m a fool not to have realized it before. But I’d rather die than see you harmed. Good-bye, Haley.”
He turned and began to walk down the muddy driveway, determined not to look back at her, not to torture himself any longer. He would go back and wear black and have every excuse for sulking and grieving for as long as it took to—
“Galen!” She ran down the steps into the rain and pulled him around to face her.
“Go back, damn it! You’ll catch your death!”
She was already drenched, but she put her hands on her hips defiantly, refusing to give ground. “I’m not made of glass, Mr. Hawke, and I don’t see you rushing out of the weather to prevent your own death, so I’m not going anywhere until you stop this!” She stamped her foot in frustration, and Galen winced as the mud sloshed up onto her dress, effectively ruining it, but augmenting how human she looked, how vulnerable, and even now . . . alluring.
“I am stopping, Haley. I’m stopping all of it! I’m leaving you in peace!”
“In peace?” She grabbed the lapels of his overcoat, a flash of temper in her eyes making his breath catch in his throat in surprise. “If you loved me as you said, then how can I know any peace without you, Galen? If you truly meant it, then how can you even think of leaving me?”
“You heard Bascombe! You won’t be safe with me, Haley. It doesn’t even matter if there is a treasure or not! So long as the rumors exist about the Jaded, they’ll keep trying to take it or uncover what secrets they can, and I don’t know if I can keep you from harm.”
Thunder rolled ominously, and Haley’s grip tightened on his coat. “You wouldn’t know that if you were a sheepherder, Galen. No one can know that they are safe—no man can promise it. So, you’re saying all of this because you don’t love me and you don’t want to marry me, is that right?”
“No! I want you more than air! I’m . . . I’m a flawed man, Haley. I came here to secure my own happiness and never considered that it might cost you your life! How does that redeem me? How in the name of heaven can I ever excuse that?”
“You’re human! Forgive yourself for being human, Galen!”
“After all that I’ve done to you, for all the wrong reasons, how could you ever forgive me?”
“Is that truly what you need, Galen? My forgiveness?”
He started to answer her but then held very still. Every noble impulse to set her aside for her own good dissipated and he was left with an icy sense of panic, like a man standing on the edge of a cliff. God, yes, woman . . . pull me back! Help me find my way onto solid ground and see my way out of this tangle!
“Haley . . .”
Her eyes filled with tears. “I forgive you, Galen. I forgive you for . . . John. I forgive you for leaving him there—and for leaving too much of yourself there, too. I forgive you for everything you’ve done to punish us both for living in a world that didn’t really stop to notice any of it. I forgive you for breaking my heart into a thousand pieces . . . because I . . .” She released his coat, a rain- soaked Aphrodite freeing him to fly. “If hate blinds, then what of love? For I swear, I cannot see anything but you, Galen.”
“Then keep me, Haley.”
“Not unless you make me one promise.” Tears flowed freely, undisguised by the rain, but her voice was steady.
“Name it.”
“No more hiding.”
And he knew exactly what she was asking, and every corner of his heart
filled with light and heat. His beautiful Haley wasn’t afraid of the Black. She would be with him from this moment on, and there wasn’t a demon on any plane of existence that they couldn’t vanquish together.
“Never, my love. Never again.” He kissed her, as if with every touch and taste he reclaimed his soul, as if he would never let her go. She melted against him, and he couldn’t surmise where he ended and she began, and Galen savored the sweet serenity of the world at last falling away. He pulled his lips from hers, only to whisper in her ear, “I’m going to tell you that I love you each day and every day that I have left until you command me to stop.”
She smiled through her tears, joy fueling a playful light in her eyes. “You have never listened to a single command I’ve given you before, Mr. Hawke.”
“I’ve obeyed every word!” He drew her back into his arms, a wicked grin on his face. “Of course, you’ll have the rest of your life to test my husbandly compliance, Miss Moreland.”
She gave him a look of equal mischief, and he could feel the seductive burn of it uncoil within him. “I’m going to look forward to that.”
“You’ve saved my life, Haley.” He kissed her again, restraint falling away as she mirrored his desire, and the weeks of separation and denial fueled a searing heat between them that gave no quarter. Every longing he’d been forced to ignore sprang into life and demanded her surrender. Galen’s kiss claimed every soft, sweet corner of her mouth, experiencing every exquisite texture, and drawing from her all that he needed as the fire in his blood began to dismiss logic.
Her knees buckled and he held her weight, cupping her delectable bottom through the wet layers of her clothes, pressing her up against him, even as his own knees bent so that they were both kneeling in the mud and the rain, intertwined in an embrace that allowed for nothing between them. Haley’s hand slid up inside his coat and across the wet silk of his shirt, and Galen growled in frustration. He dropped his arm to ready himself to tip her back and carry her inside the house where he could finally have his wicked way with her, when the sound of a carriage abruptly changed his plans.
Revenge Wears Rubies Page 30
