Tales of a Viscount

by Eleanor Meyers

  Rachel brightened. “My father’s here?” And so was Reuben. She didn’t understand why Yall would be there, however.

  Then Dabney looked at Rachel. “We better leave out the back. We’ll take the lady with us.”

  “But what about my wedding?” Fosse stomped his foot, quite ridiculously.

  “What?” Rachel backed away. “I want to go to my father and Lord Eastridge. Let me see them.”

  Fosse spoke gently, as though she were a child. “You can’t go with them, my lady. You have to stay with us.”

  “Why?” Rachel asked.

  Dabney started at the door. “We’ve no time for this. You can marry her when we reach the country, or even the continent.”

  Marry? Marry who? Her?

  Rachel frowned at Dabney. “I can’t marry you. I’m engaged to Lord Eastridge.” And Fosse was her father’s age.

  Fosse continued to smile. “Florentia, I’ll not let you marry another man. Not this time. You’ll like the continent. I’ll take you wherever you wish to go, and we’ll be together. You can have whatever you want.”

  Rachel felt cold as she spoke. “I’m not Florentia. I’m Rachel, her daughter.”

  For a moment, Fosse looked lost, then he was smiling again. “You’ll be happy. I swear it.”

  Feet rushed up the stairs, and then there was a knock.

  Dabney looked at the mad earl before he spoke to the door. “Who is it?”

  “The priest.”

  Fosse ran to open the door, just as Dabney shouted “No!”

  The door flew open, knocking the earl to the ground, and then Reuben came in.

  “Reuben!” Rachel raced to him, but Dabney caught her bound hands and yanked her back. She nearly fell. He was stronger than he appeared.

  Something sharp and cold came to rest at her throat.

  “I’m leaving, and I’m taking her,” Dabney said. “Leave, taking others with you, and I’ll make sure to send her back to you whole and in good health. Otherwise, I cut her throat now, and spill her blood.”

  Rachel’s heart pounded in her chest and she remained as still as possible.

  REUBEN SAW the terror in Rachel’s eyes. The light that spilled through the open door showed her paleness and knew he had no choice. He looked at Dabney. “Before I go, tell me something. Why did you wish to kill the king?”

  He’d figured out Dabney was the assassin, when he’d found Lord Castell knocked unconscious in the basement of the church, and then saw Dabney racing up the stairs to the church’s tower. Dabney was the assassin. He was close to the king, could get close enough to kill him, but was not a friend of the crown. Jasper’s note had said Lord Castell was connected, but it had taken tonight for Reuben to see the truth. Castell was following Dabney as well, working to save the king’s life. Yall had mentioned from the beginning that he had other men on the assignment, others looking for the assassin. Reuben should have known Yall would ask his own heir. If the situation were any other, he might have laughed at the fact that Yall had entrusted both his sons to save the king.

  The note Dabney had been looking for on the night of Castell’s party, had likely been about himself. Both he and Dabney had tried to break into Castell’s office that night. Only Reuben had succeeded.

  “How did you get past my guards?” Dabney asked.

  “I came through the back.”

  Dabney motion with his head toward the room. “You come in, and I’ll take the lady out. You stay here until you’re sure I’ve gone. If I’m followed, I kill her, do you understand?”

  Reuben nodded and moved, glancing around the room for anything he could use. “But tell me why you wished to kill the king?”

  Dabney moved, taking a frightened Rachel as he spoke. “Our king is mad. His heir is putting our country in debt. It’s time for a new order.”

  They circled one another. Dabney passed Fosse’s still form. Rachel tripped and screamed.

  Dabney leaned the blade away, and looked to make sure he’d not hurt his hostage.

  But Rachel’s trip had been for show.

  She’d kicked Fosse’s gun Reuben’s way.

  Reuben reached for it, just as Dabney was turning to look at him.

  Rachel’s body was being used as a shield, so Reuben only had one choice.

  He pulled the trigger and shot Dabney’s hand.

  The man screamed.

  Rachel fell to the ground, gathered her skirts, and ran to Reuben.

  “Go.” Reuben started for the door.

  Dabney blocked the way, not only recovered, but with a second gun in his hand. It appeared that Fosse had been holding two. He pointed at Rachel and then Reuben. “Let her come with me.”

  “No.” Reuben stepped in front of her.

  Rachel grabbed him. “Reuben, don’t be a fool. Let me go with him. He’ll kill you.”

  Reuben spoke to her without turning around, all the while making sure Rachel stood behind him. “Listen to me. He has one bullet. He can’t shoot both of us.”

  “He won’t hurt me, Reuben,” she pleaded.

  “Yes, he will.” He gazed at her from over his shoulder. A final look, before he turned away. “He’d kill the king. He’d kill you just as easily. You must go.”

  She was sobbing. “I’m not letting you die.” Even with tears, she tried to fight to get around him.

  Stubborn woman.

  “Listen to the lady,” Dabney taunted.

  He could hear shouting from downstairs. Likely the duke and the earl would call for more men, enough to overtake the guards, but until help arrived, he was on his own. He heard Fosse begin to stir, and knew he was running out of time. Rachel might be able to get away from a defenseless Dabney, but not two men.

  Reuben sighed, and thought of the only way he could get her to see reason. “Rachel, I’ve been working all this time to find an assassin. I only started courting you, because I thought Lord Castell was the assassin, and I didn’t want you ruined. Now let me protect you. There’s no longer a reason to die for me.”

  He’d always known he’d give his life for hers. Now he could.

  * * *

  32

  CHAPTER

  THIRTY-TWO

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  Rachel tried to deny that Reuben’s words were the truth, and yet in her heart, she suspected they were. It was the only thing that truly explained the change that came over him. One minute he was pushing her away, and the next…

  It hadn’t been her clothes. He’d kissed her before she’d ever changed her wardrobe. He’d found her attractive before she’d donned her mother’s headband, or stopped wearing high collars.

  It was her safety he’d cared for. Always her safety, since the moment her father had installed him in the house.

  And yet, she knew that somewhere through the games of chase, his heart had changed, and he’d allowed himself to fall for her. He said he didn’t want her ruined, but nothing would have ruined her faster than a broken engagement.

  He truly planned to marry her, and she knew it was because he loved her.

  “Do you recall how Napoleon won one battle after another?” she whispered.

  “What?” Reuben was obviously lost.

  No matter. “He divided his army into small attack groups and spread them around the enemy before he attacked. That’s what we must do.”

  “Rachel, I don’t know what—”

  She wrapped her arms around his back. “I love you, Reuben.”

  He stiffened and then relaxed into her hold. “Don’t move, Rachel. Please. Let me protect you.”

  “We have to go now!” Dabney shouted. “I’ll shoot him in ten seconds, my lady. Ten!”

  Reuben turned around, and they sought one another. Their mouths tangled. His tongue was rough, as was his grip. She clung to him.

  “Five!”

  She unfolded Dabney’s dagger from her skirts, the one she’d gather
ed in them, when he’d fallen to the ground, and stuck Reuben in the front of his thigh.

  He groaned, his eyes widening as his lips left her.

  “I love you,” she whispered. “I’m sorry I hurt you. Now, stay here. I’ll be right back.”

  “No. No, Rachel,” Reuben grabbed her shoulders as he started to fall to the floor, but Rachel shrugged him away, and started toward Dabney.

  The earl was grinning. “Wise choice, my lady. Now—”

  The blade shoved in his heart cut off his words.

  Rachel’s hands trembled as she released the hilt, and watched the man slump to the floor. His chest bloomed with blood.

  There was a yank at her skirts, and she turned around just in time to watch Reuben kick Lord Fosse in the back of the head, with his good leg.

  The man, with a groan, went to sleep once more.

  Reuben then lowered his leg and groaned. He narrowed his eyes at Rachel. “Why didn’t you tell me you picked up the blade?”

  “So you could have taken it from me?” She stepped away from Dabney, without looking at him, sure his face would haunt her forever. “I was the only one he would have allowed close enough.”

  Reuben hopped over to the dead man, and picked up his gun. “That was stupid.”

  “You’re stupid!”

  He looked up at her with alarm.

  Rachel’s lips trembled. She didn’t know why she’d shouted that. And then she burst into tears. She’d killed a man.

  Reuben grabbed her close and held her. He was whispering in her ear, but she couldn’t make out the words through her anguish.

  “I murdered him,” she whispered.

  “You defended yourself and me.” He lifted her head, which caused her to meet his eyes. “You were brave. I should have said that before. You risked your life for me.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry for what I said, I was simply surprised that…”

  “Someone could love you that much?” She gripped his shirt. “Reuben, you’re not the only one who cares. I love you, and you’ve more than proved that you deserve it, above all others.”

  He kissed her then, and lifted his head. “I’ll try to remember that more often.”

  “I’ll help you,” she promised.

  They were kissing wildly when the shooting started, and then feet were rushing to the top of the stairs, as soldiers poured into the room, followed by her father and Lord Yall.

  The duke was looking Reuben over cautiously, and Rachel didn’t know if he was simply seeing a soldier, or his own flesh and blood. “Are you hurt?”

  Reuben held onto her, but only let Rachel go, when she leaned toward her father. “Neither of us is hurt.”

  Yall nodded and then looked down. “Now, please tell me how two of the realm’s lords are lying on the floor, and why one of them is obviously dead.”

  Reuben reported the story. Rachel used the word ‘report’, because that was how Reuben spoke to the duke. Rachel told her own portion of the tale, everything that Reuben had missed.

  In the end, Yall nodded and turned to the soldiers. “Take these men out of here.” Then he looked at Reuben. “I’ll see you first thing in the morning.” He left them.

  “The least he could do is let you rest,” Woodley said.

  Reuben shook his head. “Soldiers don’t rest.”

  Rachel went back to her soldier, and wrapped her arms around him.

  His arms went around her. She was still shaken from what had taken place, but with his warmth around her, she felt better. It would likely take time for her to truly move past it, but with Reuben, she suspected she’d get through anything.

  * * *

  EPILOGUE

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  “Was there something you wished to say, brother?”

  Reuben lifted his head from the table, and held himself back from glaring at Castell. It took great effort, but he managed to get out, “No, I don’t believe I’ve anything to add,” without looking over at the Duke of Yall, to see his reaction to Castell’s words. The three were in their usual meeting, with the other twenty-one members of the Order of the Garter Star, replaying the events of the last few days.

  It had been decided that Lord Dabney would be buried without history remembering him a traitor, and Lord Fosse had decided to retire to the far parts of the Continent. As predicted, the ton was loath to allow any of their own to carry a foul name, and thus much was shoved under the rug.

  “Are you sure… brother?” Castell asked again with a bright smile.

  That time, Reuben did look at the duke, and found his face to be growing red, and for once his eyes met no man’s.

  “Yes,” Reuben drawled. “I’m quite certain.” If he’d thought the man a nuisance before they’d caught the assassin, Castell had managed to become even more of an bother in the week that passed. Though Reuben wasn’t sure if it was he, or his father, that Castell wished to annoy the most.

  Reuben had met with Yall the day after the they’d made arrest at the church, and had been surprised by how civil the man had been. There’d been none of the usual attacks on Reuben’s upbringing, or lack of proficient education.

  When the meeting ended, Reuben started towards the door, and ignored the looks he’d gathered. He’d watched plenty compare him to Yall, even his achievements, but Reuben gave his father no credit for all he’d done. That belonged to the family who’d raised him and helped him reach his goals.

  Castell caught up to him in the hall. “Well, that went well, don’t you think?”

  Reuben made no comment on it, because to do so would likely only encourage him, so instead, he said, “Rose wished to extend an invitation to Lady Amy for the party this evening, but if your father oversees her schedule...” Rachel had asked Reuben to be nice to the prince. So for her, he was willing to give it a go.

  “I’ll make sure she comes.” They passed the front doors and entered the open courtyard. The sky was gray, but the day was bright, nonetheless. Castell stared up as he spoke. “She is quite anxious to meet you again, now that she knows the truth.” Then he looked at Reuben and grinned again.

  Reuben stopped before his carriage and asked, “You don’t actually like me, do you?”

  “You saved my life, so therefore I have no choice.” He paused, but Reuben knew there was more, so he waited. He didn’t have to wait long. “Though, I’m sure you know there are those who wonder if you’re the son he meant to have. A military hero and whatnot.”

  Reuben didn’t even wish to entertain that thought. “Your father—”

  “Our father,” Castell corrected, a twinkle in his eyes.

  “Don’t push it,” Reuben growled. There was still too much between him and the duke, for Reuben to say such a thing aloud. He continued on. “I may think him many things, but the one thing your father isn’t is a fool. He didn’t just ask me to find the assassin. He asked you. He trusted you with the king’s life, because he knew he could. That says enough.” Then deciding the conversation done, he climbed into the carriage.

  Castell leaned into the window and said, “Well, that settles it then. I do like you, Reuben. So glad I finally have someone to complain with about our conniption-inducing progenitor. Why, before long, you and I will be old chaps.”

  Reuben rolled his eyes. “I’ll tell Rachel how nice we were to one another today.”

  “Please do.” He finally stepped away from the carriage, and away Reuben went.

  * * *

  Rachel arrived at Reuben’s home, hours before the party and didn’t wait to be announced, before she strolled into his study, because after all, the house would be hers as well someday soon. A week’s time in fact.

  She found her fiancé already dressed. He stood behind the table with the eagles she’d selected, which tied in well with the family crest that hung over the fireplace. His hands rested on the table’s surface and he was leaning over a document. His brow was fu
rrowed in such great concentration, that she decided to see what the matter was, before bothering him with her own concerns.

  She moved further into the room, and saw him to be looking at a map. He’d hired a cartographer to make a map of Eastridge, and it seemed the creation had finally arrived.

  The land, on paper, looked just as lovely as many of the lords claimed it to be. She became so enthralled with the landscape, the hills and valleys, that she’d not noticed Reuben’s attention had changed, until his lips landed on her shoulder.

  His breath was warm. “You look lovely.”

  She shivered and then turned to look up at him. He was lovely. Handsome and wonderful. She wouldn’t wait to be his wife. They shared a quick kiss before he asked, “What’s the matter?”

  “Palmer wishes to strike a deal that would involve building a canal through my lands. What do you think?” And when he asked, he really wished to know her answer.

  “Show me.”

  He did, and they spent the next hour speaking over the strength and weaknesses of such a move. There were more advantages to the deal than disadvantages.

  “Do you like Palmer?” she asked, her back to him, now.

  Reuben frowned. “A fine question, if I’m to do business with him.” He wrapped his arms around her and leaned in. “I do know him well.”

  His scent and heat engulfed her. She almost found it hard to think. “Then get to know him.” She turned her head and grinned. “Invite him to dinner.”

  He took the opportunity to kiss her again, before straightening. “Perhaps, I’ll allow my wife to invite his family in a few weeks.”

  She liked that idea, and with that matter done, she said, “I saw Lord Stonewhire on the list of people who said they’d attend. Did you speak with him? Where has he been all this time? Has he been to see Rose?”