Beyond Love

by Glenda Diana

  “Such a tragedy.”

  “I suppose you know we found your spy?” Blake folded his arms across his chest.

  “Poor Laran ... or should I say, ‘Sarah'? I heard she took a dive. Pity. She was one of the best ... informers. Enthusiastic, creative, insatiable. Did you never try her out, Bradley?”

  “Hell, no!”

  “Understandable,” Neil murmured. “Why take a taste of something used and bitter when you've such a sweet morsel at your side.”

  Thorton tugged on the back of Blake's coat. “What are you talking about?”

  “Later,” Blake said over his shoulder. Reaching back, he caught the hand holding his cloak. Forgetting the threat Neil posed, Blake spun around. His hand cupped her right cheek. “Damn it, you are practically frozen.”

  “I know.”

  “You have no sense at all.”

  “Apparently, you, too, are lacking sense, turning your back on the enemy.” Thorton grasped his hand as it started to fall away. “Your kindness will undo me.”

  Her plea touched him. He squeezed her fingers to let her know he understood before turning back to face Waldom.

  “Shame on you, Bradley. A man with your soldiering ability should know better. Our commander would've been disappointed if you'd have shown a lack of restraint on the battlefield. Then again, perhaps not. You were always a favorite of his.”

  Blake wasn't exactly sure what Waldom meant, so chose to let the comment slide. “Would you have shot me in the back?”

  “Of course he wouldn't have,” Thorton answered.

  “You are most intelligent, my beauty,” Neil stated. “I convey my apologies. You're far too lovely to suffer disappointment. If I'd known you were so close on my trail, I'd have made it more ... interesting. Tell me, love, what gave you your first clue?”

  Thorton shrugged, then realized he probably could not see her through Blake and the darkness. What she wanted to do was tell both to go to the Devil. A vision of herself wrapped in a dozen blankets filled her mind. She could almost feel the warmth. She shook away the vision. It wasn't warmth she was feeling, it was likely frostbite. She had told them she did not feel well, but apparently neither cared.

  She gave a weary sigh. “'Twas a simple deduction. The message sent to Blake was signed with a double X. When I read the note, I knew it had to have a meaning. All I had to do was find the coward who marked my husband.”

  Blake wasn't sure if he should throttle her or kiss her. Instead, her fury brought a smile to his face. He had so much he needed to tell her. And if she didn't get them killed, he would when this was over.

  Neil knew he was better than most Runners, and when he realized he was being followed, he immediately set out to find out by whom. He had his answer within a day, pleased by his discovery. From the first day he'd met the Baroness of Stonecrest, he had wanted her. Now she would be his. All that was left was to get his final revenge on Bradley.

  “Come along,” he ordered. “We've wasted enough time. Mr. Taker will not be joining us. I fear he's met with an accident.” He laughed at Thorton's gasp.

  Blake held out his hand. “Come on, Thor.”

  She tried to stand, but she had sat too long on the bench. Her legs didn't want to give assistance. The groan came out before she could stop it.

  “Are you all right?” Blake whispered in her ear as he helped her stand.

  She hated showing any weakness, mostly in front of Blake. Leaning heavily into his side, she tried to grasp some remnant of her quickly failing strength. “The dampness has stiffened my limbs. Give me a minute and I'll be fine.” She moved slowly away from his warmth.

  Blake scowled but remained quiet. Placing his hand under her elbow, he guided her through the gate. His dark eyes traveled to where Neil stood holding his pistol. Mentally he shook his head at the rash thought that went through his head. He couldn't do anything reckless, Thorton might get hurt and he could not take that chance.

  By the time they reached Neil's carriage, Thorton was ready to scream, or worse, faint, from the pain shooting through her legs. She did her best to walk with as much grace as possible, yet she knew it was a miserable attempt. Her steps faltered when her eyes met Willie's, the stable hand from Stonecrest. He and another man stood alongside Neil's carriage.

  “I see him,” Blake whispered. “Apparently he was Sarah's lover and another spy.”

  Her stomach churned with the knowledge that Sarah and this young man had worked for Neil.

  Blake tried to steady her. “Are you sure you're all right?”

  “I don't feel well,” she said, hoping he wouldn't hear the fear in her voice.

  “Hang on, Thor. I'll get us out of this.”

  I'm trying, she thought tearfully. A small sigh of relief hissed from her when Blake lifted her into the carriage and she felt the plush cushion beneath her.

  Blake sat next to her, leaving Neil to sit across from them. He wasn't sure where Neil was taking them, but he hoped his father and Griggs had gotten Lucas and they were somewhere behind them.

  The carriage rocked and swayed down the road. Blake felt Thorton shudder. Turning slightly in the seat, he put his arm around her and pulled her close, offering her his warmth. He smiled when her head came to rest against his chest. Tenderly, he brushed the hair from her forehead and placed a soft kiss upon her brow. Cold fear gripped him. She shivered as if she were freezing, yet a fine sheen of sweat covered her forehead.

  “What's wrong?” He had meant to whisper, but in the confines of the carriage it sounded more like the roar of a wounded beast.

  “I'm not sure,” she moaned between chattering teeth. “I think I'm going to be sick.”

  Blake looked at Neil. “She's ill!”

  “Nice try. But this carriage is not stopping until we've reached our destination.” Neil touched Thorton's brow and found his wrist grasped in a steel band of flesh. His hazel eyes clashed with Blake's. “Do you want me to stop this carriage? The decision is yours.”

  A battle raged inside Blake. He needed Neil to stop the carriage, but hated the thought of him touching her. Finally he released his hold and let Neil place his hand on her head.

  “Now,” Thorton groaned, gaining their attention.

  Neil pounded on the trap door, yelling for his man to pull the carriage to the side of the road. Before the carriage came to a complete stop, Blake had the door open and Thorton in his arms.

  Her feet had barely touched the ground before she totally disgraced herself. Loosing control was not only degrading, but most embarrassing.

  After yanking the scarf from around his neck, Blake wiped at the tears streaming down her face. The scarf fell to the ground when her body started trembling uncontrollably.

  “B-Bloody ... h-hell,” she stammered. “I believe, I-I'm going to humiliate myself ... f-further.”

  Blake caught her just as she started sliding to the ground. His hands shook so badly he wasn't sure if he could hold her. He cradled her to his chest and stood. She felt so small, he wondered if she'd eaten in the past six months. His heart began to beat wildly. He could not lose her, not after all these wasted months.

  He glanced around, not sure exactly what to do with her. He gave a mental laugh over this unusual predicament. Women, in general, might faint at the sight of him, but never on him.

  “What the hell is wrong with her?” Neil asked, keeping his pistol leveled at them.

  “She fainted.”

  “Lay her down inside the carriage.”

  “She needs fresh air,” he stated, moving to the side of the road. After seconds of indecision, he finally settled her on the thick grass.

  “She would've been more comfortable inside the carriage. She will be more apt to catch lung fever out here.”

  Blake came to his feet. He was hoping Neil, in his observation of Thorton, would come closer. “Being in that stuffy carriage would've likely made her sicker. The air might be damp and chilly, but it's better than being cooped up.”

  “
You're trying to delay the inevitable.” Neil gave a slight motion with his pistol. “Move aside.”

  “Not bloody likely,” Blake growled. He stood over Thorton's unconscious form. “She stays right where she is until I know she's all right. If you so much as lay a finger on her, I'll rip you to shreds.”

  “Your threat doesn't scare me, Bradley.”

  “It wasn't meant to.”

  “Are you forgetting I have the pistol?”

  “Better make sure you get the first shot right, Waldom. If you don't, I'll kill you.”

  “I'm an excellent shot.”

  A sharp blast rent the air around them.

  “Drop your weapon!” came Lucas’ shout from beyond the other side of the road.

  Neil spun and fired, even as he dropped to lie on the muddy street. He looked over his shoulder to where Blake had dropped protectively over Thorton.

  Blake's eyes clashed with Neil's. As if reading the bastard's mind, he came to a crouch. If Waldom wanted Thorton, he'd have to kill him first. A slight movement to Neil's right caught Blake's attention. Roger was slowly making his way toward them, guarding each step so as not to alert Neil of his presence.

  “You're going to lose, Waldom,” Blake stated, moving forward and keeping Thorton behind him.

  “I haven't lost since the day they sent you home from the war. You always had to be the best. Ever since we were boys, you always had to be better than me.”

  “I always played fair.” Blake gave a shrug of indifference.

  Neil came to a crouching position that matched Blake's. “Move aside, Bradley!”

  Blake unfolded to his full six-foot-five height. “You'll have to move me. I won't do it willingly. Not as long as I have breath in this body.”

  “Such a caring husband. You've treated her abominably. You never deserved her.”

  Blake started to move toward Neil when a voice from behind stopped him. “He's right, Bradley. You don't deserve her.”

  Blake glared at the line of trees and made out the shadowy form of Lance Wellsbrough.

  “If I thought I could actually win, I'd beat the hell out of you,” came Alan Garrick's voice. “Lance told me how you've treated her. She's a tender woman, a woman who should be treated like a princess. I'd treat her as she deserves. The more I think about this, I believe I'll have to take her.”

  “You can't have her!” Blake and Neil shouted simultaneously.

  “They're right, old man,” Lance shouted to Alan. “I don't believe the Lady would want you.”

  “But she said we were friends,” Alan replied. “That's more than she had with Bradley.”

  Lance laughed. “He's got you there, Blake.”

  “Enough!” Blake's growl echoed around them.

  “You two stay where you are!” Neil yelled, keeping the gun aimed at Blake.

  “We have no problem with that, do we Garrick?” Lance's voice still had a hint of humor in it.

  “God, no. We'll watch, if that's all right with you?”

  Neil stared steadily at Blake. “Move aside,” he ordered. “Do you remember the day you got your scars? It was to be your last battle. You were already wounded when I came upon you. I remember. It looked like miles of nothing but blood and bodies. I was so sick of hearing our commander sing your praises.

  “General Lowden loved to brag about your crafty abilities. I had to listen to how you were such a good soldier, how you would lay down your life for another without question. It got to where I couldn't stand to hear your name, or see that handsome face of yours. But you're not so handsome now, are you?

  “I was deeply disappointed you made it. I thought your arrogance and lack of looks would at least keep you hidden at Stonecrest. I must say, your first visit to Town was entertaining. The ton didn't care about your battlefield achievements. The mere sight of your damaged face turned their stomachs.”

  Blake listened. He never knew his commander had held him up before the others. He had never wanted nor asked to be glorified or praised for his actions. “Why the new interest in me, Waldom?”

  “Thomas went on and on about your wife. I had to see this goddess for myself. I couldn't believe any woman, beauty or otherwise, would want the scarred likes of you. So I paid you a visit. To my surprise, I found your wife exquisite.” Neil gave a soft laugh. “I could almost forget her beauty. I could almost forget my desire for her. But one thing I could not forget was her passion, the passion with which she defends you. Whenever I tried to talk to her at a gala, she never saw me. She was too occupied watching you!”

  “All of this is over jealousy? As a soldier, I achieved everything with hard work and determination.” Blake looked at his unconscious wife. He had to conclude this business and get her back to Lucas’ house.

  Roger had come to a stop about ten feet behind Neil. Blake glanced at Lance, then Alan. Neither had moved from their spot. Again, he looked at Thorton. “As for my wife, I fear all of you are right. I never deserved her.”

  “That wasn't too hard to admit, was it,” Alan called. “Lance said you were too stupid to realize your good fortune.”

  “I don't recall using the word ‘stupid,'” Lance retorted. “I said stubborn.”

  “Shut up!” Neil shouted. “Move aside, Bradley. I'm tired of playing this game.”

  “You'll be the only one moving, you snake!” Roger shouted. “Throw down your gun and raise your hands.”

  Neil hesitated for a brief second. Then turned and fired.

  Blake gave an earth-shattering battle cry as he watched his father crumple. Springing forward, he kicked the gun from Neil's hand and swung his right fist. The sound of crushing bones punctuated the sudden stillness. Blake was deeply satisfied when a stream of blood shot from Neil's broken nose.

  Neil cried out and blindly threw several punches that failed to even stun Blake. He glanced around for his guards only to find them equally busy with Lucas and Griggs.

  He dodged Blake's left foot as he aimlessly moved backward. Reaching down, he pulled a knife from inside his boot. “Wellsbrough! Garrick! Join me in bringing down the mighty Blake Bradley. Together we will crush him.”

  “I think not, Waldom,” Lance answered, stepping out of the darkness enshrouding him.

  “In case you haven't realized,” Alan said, moving out from his safe haven, “we're here to make sure there's no foul play and to see that Thorton doesn't come to harm.”

  “Both of you hate Bradley as much as me!”

  “You're mistaken.” Lance's words lashed across the clearing. “No matter what our differences might have been, I consider Blake to be one of my dearest friends. I stand ready to serve at his side whenever he might need me.”

  “That goes for me as well,” came Alan's agreement. “I believe this is one of those times.”

  Neil shrieked in anger when Alan's shiny blade came into view, as well as Lance's pistol. “You'll not win this time, Bradley. I'll declare myself the slayer of the Beast.” Neil slashed at Blake with his knife.

  The shot flashed through the darkness, echoed in the hollow night. Neil swayed and fell.

  Blake dropped to his knees and froze. Thorton was sitting upright, a wavering pistol in hand. Her shoulders began shaking; tears ran freely down her cheek, leaving glistening trails. Blake rushed to her.

  “I gave him fair warning,” she said defensively.

  Alan and Lance reached them at the same time. They smiled at each other. “She warned us all,” Alan announced, watching as Blake tenderly wiped away Thorton's tears only to have them replaced with fresh ones.

  “I'm sure all of London knows of her warnings,” Lance stated, kneeling at Thorton's side. Her face was pressed against Blake's shoulder and her body was trembling. “Is she all right?”

  “I'm fine,” came her muffled reply. “I make it a practice to kill at least once a year.”

  “Is she serious?”

  “Shut up, Garrick,” Lance muttered. “Don't you know sarcasm?”

  Blake held her
close. “How are you feeling?”

  “I don't wish to complain, but my legs are killing me,” she whispered, hating how childish her voice sounded.

  “Everything is all right, sweetheart. I have to check on my father, then I'll take you home. I'll take care of you,” Blake whispered as he rocked her back and forth.

  Lance laid his hand on Blake's shoulder. “I think she's fainted again.” “Garrick and I will watch over her.”

  Blake's head snapped up. “You think I'd trust her with either one of you?”

  “Sometime or another, you've got to stop being stupid.”

  “Don't press your luck.”

  “He wouldn't do that, would you Lance?”

  “Believe it or not, Alan, you're not being much help,” Lance mumbled.

  “Sorry, old man. Didn't mean to be a hindrance.”

  Lance smiled at Blake and shrugged. “He has his uses ... sometimes.”

  Alan laughed. “Like keeping fortune-hunting mammas at bay. If it weren't for my charming personality, Wellsbrough would be trampled to death by their eager attempts to gain his attention. Of course, if any of them got a good dose of his rotten temper, he wouldn't have any mammas chasing after him.”

  Blake looked from one man to the other. They were both insane. But in the past few months, he had learned to trust Lance again. Oh, their friendship was far from what it had once been, but they were making progress.

  “I'll be right back.” By the time Blake reached his father's side, Griggs was wrapping a bandage around Roger's arm. Blake thought his sire looked much too pale and mentioned that to Griggs.

  Roger's eyes misted. “I'm fine, son. Don't be worrying about me.”

  “It's just a flesh wound, Milord. In a few days he'll be back to his old self, grumbling, complaining, and being a regular pain in our arse.”

  Roger dabbed the moisture from his eyes. “Shut-up! How's our girl?”

  “Sick. I need to get her out of this dampness.” Blake looked over his shoulder in time to see Lucas lift his sister's unconscious body.

  “Let's go,” Roger said as Griggs helped him to his feet. “I'm about sick of this weather myself.”

  Blake met Lucas at the carriage. Removing his heavy coat, Blake draped it around Thorton, then held out his arms. Lucas hesitated briefly, then, with a muttered curse, he laid her in Blake's arms.