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Unexpected Danger

Page 20

by Lisa E. Pugh


  Suddenly, with a muttered apology, he tried to step away from her. She refused to let him go. Instead, holding him close, she lifted her head off his chest and examined his appearance again.

  The image from the photographs was still there. Disfigurement and passing time could not erase the mixture of ennui and authority in his bright-blue eye. The eagle nose was still visible. His hair was dark brown, arranged in a haircut that was nearly two decades out of fashion.

  There was a slight graying at the temples and one or two strands of white woven through the mahogany. He was far too young for the color. She suspected it was the trauma of his accident rather than age that had put the silver there.

  Noticing the earl’s embarrassment at her scrutiny, Margaret chuckled and kissed him softly on the lips. He instantly went the color of a beet. She laughed softly.

  Christopher pulled back, clearing his throat. “When I was young, such kissing was for courting couples only.”

  “Oh!” she replied airily. “Well, if that’s the way you want to view it…”

  A sensation ran through the people gathered in the hall. Someone who sounded strangely like Mr. Logan hooted, “You’ve cornered yourself right proper, my lord!”

  Christopher asked, flummoxed, “Excuse me, Maggie, but did you just propose to me?”

  She grinned. “Since we’ve only known each other a few weeks, and since I’m sure you think proposals are the man’s prerogative, I’ll let you off the hook.” The crowd snickered.

  “I’ve never known a woman like you, Margaret Taylor,” he declared, admiration in his tone and expression. It was wonderful to finally see the emotions on his face as well as hear them in his voice.

  “Women have become more assertive in recent years, my lord, but I like to think there are none like me.” At her quip, the townspeople laughed and some applauded.

  “You're fond of Shakespeare, as I recall,” his lordship commented, with a twinkle in his healthy eye.

  It was Margaret’s turn to be confused. “Yes.”

  “Then, my dear Beatrice, ‘I will stop your mouth.’ ”

  He kissed her full on the lips, elation making him reckless. With a gasp, she lifted her head. “Don’t you just love Shakespeare!” she declared, and then returned his kiss with equal passion. A cheer from the crowd echoed around the great hall.

  Epilogue

  As the townspeople filtered out of the mansion into the night, Christopher helped Margaret into a chair. He and the Inspector agreed that they should not move Margaret any more than they must, and the crowd made maneuvering difficult.

  He knelt beside her, his hands holding hers. Sending Brenlaw to procure strong drink to help her nerves—and his—he spoke to her quietly. The butler had tightened her bandages so the bleeding would stop, and Doctor Rowan was on his way. The instant the foyer was clear and the police were finished with their investigation of the staircase-turned-crime scene, he would carry her back to her room.

  As they spoke, Lara Raimond approached timidly. “Lord Yawron?”

  Christopher spun toward her. She quickly jumped back. Quirking his lips, he said, “It’s all right—Lara, is it?—I don’t bite.”

  “I know. I didn’t mean to…” She paused and braced herself. She apparently was going to get this out if it killed her. “I’m sorry for everything I said and did tonight. I'm very ashamed of myself. I was just so worried about Mags. I had to find out if she was safe. I didn’t really mean any offense.”

  What started out as a formal apology quickly shifted to a plea for understanding. His smile broadened. “I understand. Maggie is very fortunate to have a friend like you.”

  “Thank you.” Grinning with relief, Lara turned to her friend. “Are you all right, Mags? Do you need a ride home or anything?”

  “I’d better wait here for the doctor. He’ll expect to find me still here.”

  “Still? You’ve seen Doctor Rowan?”

  “Of course she has,” Christopher replied with a derisive snort. “Did you think I would bring Maggie here, seriously injured, and not call in medical help?”

  Lara blushed. “I didn’t think about it, to be honest.” She turned to her friend. “If you’re sure you are…”

  “I’m fine, Lara, thank you. I'll see you in a few days, when I'm well enough to socialize again.”

  “Very well, if you're certain. Goodnight, Mags. My lord.” The young woman kissed her injured friend on the cheek. Then, curtsying awkwardly to Christopher, she turned and left.

  “Sweet girl,” he commented.

  “Yes, she is. I hope that what Teresa did won't affect her too much.”

  “It will have some consequences, I’m sure. That evil hag leaves destruction in her wake wherever she goes. You told me once they were good friends. If so, there will certainly be repercussions. From what I’ve seen, however, that young woman’s got enough spirit to get through it.” Turning back to his companion, he remarked, “I never got to thank you.”

  She blinked, startled. “Thank me?”

  By God, he loved that bemused look, or indeed, any look she had. She was so dear to him, his own personal miracle. He could watch her expressive face for hours.

  He nodded solemnly. “For coming to my rescue. You’ve only been moving around for short periods since last night. I didn’t expect you to get out of bed and hobble to the minstrel gallery. As you came down those stairs, it was uncomfortable just watching you move. Yet you fought through the pain to help me, to see justice done, and to save me from the mob. And then Teresa…”

  He stopped and shuddered. Grasping her hand, he pressed his lips to her palm fervently. All the helplessness and fear of seeing his nemesis approach his wounded angel, all the terror and desperation of those minutes that felt like hours, it all came out in that passionate kiss. He loved this woman with everything in him, and he’d nearly lost her twice.

  Her free hand came up and brushed the top of his head. Stiffly leaning close to his ear, she whispered in a jagged, uneven voice, “You’re very welcome, Christopher. I’ll always defend you from anyone and anything.”

  The resolve in her voice and the touch of her fingers running through his hair were almost too wonderful to bear. A choking sob escaped his lips. He felt the tears forming in his eyes and squeezed his lids shut in an attempt to keep them in. Despite his best efforts, the liquid managed to slip through his lashes.

  “I love you,” he murmured against her soft skin. With each declaration, he placed a fervent kiss. “Beyond honor. Beyond life. Beyond reason.”

  A snippet of a very old poem slipped into his mind. It fit his emotions so well that he recited it to her with sincerity and honesty as if the words were his own. “Thou art my life, my love, my heart, the very eyes of me, and hast command of every part to live and die for thee.”

  “Christopher!” Maggie whispered.

  The shocked awe in her voice made him smile. He looked up, knowing that his heart was blazing from his one good eye. It didn’t matter. She had to know how he felt. As his father had been with his mother, he could be vulnerable with her.

  A clearing of the throat drew them both back to reality.

  The Inspector and his constables had been busy arranging for a wagon to transport Teresa Houseman to jail. That task now complete, the Inspector turned to the earl and his lady. The look that passed between the two was so intense, he felt uncomfortable having to break it.

  Coming up to the pair, lost in a world of their own, he cleared his throat and said, “Well, we’ve got everything in place. Miss Houseman will be charged with two counts of attempted murder and assault. We will leave as soon as the car gets here. We'll need a full statement from you, Miss Taylor, and you too, my lord. I think I have the main facts, but we’d like you to provide the details. When you feel strong enough, of course, Miss Taylor.”

  “If you could send a constable here to take my statement, I'll be ready in a day or two, Inspector. Otherwise, it may take me a while to be mobile again, and t
hat will mean a delay. I would prefer we get this awful episode behind us.”

  “Yes, of course.” When a constable signaled to him, the Inspector nodded. “The Black Maria is here. I'll see both of you soon then. My lord. Miss.” He bowed to each of them and left.

  At a signal from the officer, the prisoner was led away. Christopher and Maggie ignored them. The sooner she was out of their lives as well as their sight, all the better.

  As she passed them, she slowed and hissed, “Lord Yawron, don’t think this is the end. I may not see to your demise personally, but I still have friends I can call on. You will hear from me again.”

  Maggie tensed and began to turn. Christopher barely gave the older woman a glance. He touched his companion’s hand and, regaining her attention, continued to talk quietly.

  “I was too easy on you both,” Teresa growled quietly. “I won’t make that mistake again.”

  As if unable to prevent herself, Maggie glanced up at the bitch with a haunted look. Christopher cursed under his breath at the fear in her face. Teresa merely sneered.

  “Don’t listen to her,” Christopher told Maggie. “She can’t harm you now. We’re free of her.”

  His love turned to him for reassurance. “Are you certain?”

  “I know it. Trust me.”

  Margaret smiled at his earnest response. “I do. I trust you with my life… and all my heart.”

  Christopher blinked twice. Then a smile spread over his face, washing years off of him until he was that young man who had posed for the photographs. He gathered her into his arms and held her tightly.

  “Thank you, Maggie,” he murmured into her ear. “I will never fail to guard and cherish both.”

  “I love you, Christopher.”

  “My Maggie!” Feeling finally free, he kissed her very thoroughly.

  ###

  Thank you for reading my book. If you enjoyed it, won’t you please take a moment to leave me a review at your favorite retailer?

  Thanks!

  Lisa E. Pugh

  About the author

  Lisa Pugh was born in Chicago and spent much of her childhood in New Orleans. She has been writing since she was nine years old. She grew up reading Sherlock Holmes, Dorothy L. Sayers, and Robert Louis Stevenson making her a literary Anglophile. She also loves watching British TV shows, such as Doctor Who and Sherlock.

  She studied English Literature and Language, concentrating on Creative Writing, at Hollins University in Virginia. She started her career writing short stories and poetry published in two anthologies by the Windmore Foundation of the Arts—Words Across Time (2012) and In Other Words (2017). Now she has embarked on a new adventure in self-publishing, focusing on fiction in the romance, historical, and sci-fi/fantasy genres.

  Lisa is married and lives with her husband and two children in the mountains of Virginia.

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