by Laura Landon
Eleanor.
Chapter 13
Caleb instinctively took several steps toward Blackboot but stopped when Blackboot pressed a pistol to Eleanor’s temple.
“You seem surprised, Captain,” Blackboot said in a voice that held an unexpected undertone of culture. “Don’t you know there’s nothing that goes on in my town that I don’t know about?” Blackboot turned to face Jeffers. “Isn’t that right, Inspector?”
“Release her,” Caleb demanded, although he knew his words fell on deaf ears.
“Well now, which one, Captain? Lady Grattling? Or the murdering Sophie?”
Caleb shifted his gaze to where Sophie had been standing. She was being held by one of Blackboot’s men.
“I’m not nearly as evil as you’ve been led to believe,” Blackboot said, motioning for his man to bring Sophie close to him, “See? I’m willing to let one of the ladies live.”
“You’ll let them both live, or you die right here.”
“Ah, Captain. You abuse my generosity.” Blackboot twisted his pistol against Eleanor’s temple, making her cry out. “The choice is yours to make. Either the murdering little wench goes free,” he said, waving the gun’s barrel toward Sophie, “or the lovely Lady Grattling goes free.” He brought the pistol roughly back to Eleanor’s temple, poising his long, manicured finger ruthlessly close to the trigger. “But not both.”
Blood rushed through Caleb’s head and crashed against his ears like violent waves against the rocks. He let his gaze rest on Eleanor. Her face had lost all color, yet her eyes told him she trusted him to save her.
He couldn’t let her die. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t survive if she died. Nor would he ever be able to live with himself if he let Sophie die. She’d offered to help him. He’d promised he’d keep her safe.
But he saw no way to save them, unless he could draw Blackboot’s fire so Inspector Jeffers could take his shot.
Caleb kept his gaze focused on Eleanor. He tried to pierce her fear with a message that he loved her. That he could never live his life without her. That he would take her from harm’s way.
Caleb shifted his glare to Blackboot. “Or,” he said through clenched teeth, “I could put a bullet through your forehead, and you’d never know my choice.”
Blackboot laughed. “You’re not that good, Captain. No one is from that distance.”
Caleb locked eyes with Blackboot and leveled a chilling smile in his direction. A momentary flash of apprehension filled Blackboot’s eyes.
“You’ll take care of the men with Blackboot, won’t you, Inspector? Especially the one holding the lady Sophie.”
“You can count on it, Captain.”
“This is your last chance, Blackboot. Turn yourself over to Inspector Jeffers . . . or die.”
Blackboot laughed again. “Nice to see you, Jeffers.” He waved his gun, and Jeffers stepped into the street. His gun was trained on Blackboot as he drew even with Caleb and took his stance.
And then a slow, ominous grin spread across his face, and Caleb knew, even as the gun barrel slowly turned away from Blackboot and aimed directly at his own chest.
Jeffers was the traitor.
He’d brought with him the one man in the world who would make sure he didn’t have the ghost of a chance to walk away.
There was only one way now to save Eleanor. If it didn’t work, they’d both die right here, right now, and the children would be lost to a world of painful nights and desperate days.
Caleb drew himself to his full height, slightly lowering his pistol to the side as he raised his left hand in surrender. And just as he saw the smallest hint of relaxation on Blackboot’s face, he triggered the knife that he’d hidden at his wrist.
In one fluid movement he gripped the knife that had snapped forward to his palm and let it fly toward Jeffers. Without looking, he knew it would hit its mark, even as he raised the pistol to take the only shot he could.
Before the smile died on Blackboot’s face, Caleb took aim and fired.
Blackboot began to topple as his own pistol slipped from his jeweled fingers.
He was already dead. Caleb swung around to take a second shot at Sophie’s captor, but the man had fled.
“Are you all right?” Caleb gulped as he raced to catch Eleanor into his arms. He pulled her to him and ran his hands up and down her back and arms and shoulders to check for any sign she’d been hurt.
“I’m fine,” she whispered. “Caleb, darling. I’m fine.” She lifted her tear-filled gaze and focused on him. “Oh, Caleb. I was so frightened.”
“I know, sweetheart. I know. But it’s over. You’re safe now.”
She tightened her hold around his waist and pressed her cheek to his chest. “Safe now. Yes.”
Eleanor answered his desperate hug, then brought her hand to his cheek as she lifted her head to look into his eyes, which spoke the same message that was in her heart.
“I love you, Caleb,” she whispered.
Perhaps it was relief, or perhaps she merely meant it at the moment. Caleb didn’t care. She’d said the words he’d longed to hear, and now he knew that she felt some kind of affection for him. And he would answer it with his own affection, which plumbed the deepest reaches of his heart.
“I know, Eleanor. I know.”
Caleb held Eleanor several long moments before she stiffened in his arms.
“Sophie?” Eleanor pushed away from him. “Is Sophie all right?”
“Sophie’s fine. She’s fine.”
Caleb turned Eleanor so she could see where Sophie had collapsed to the ground with her back against the warehouse. Eleanor rushed to Sophie and knelt beside her, but Willie already had his arms around the shivering girl.
“I never seen nothin’ like that in m’life, Captain. Never!” Willie gushed as he nodded toward the dead inspector who lay in the gutter with Caleb’s knife gleaming wickedly in the center of his chest.
Caleb looked to where Blackboot lay sprawled on the ground with a bullet hole in his forehead. “I got my share of target practice during the war. Accuracy came in handy.”
“Don’t know ’bout acc’racy, Captain, but that was just plain perfect.”
. . .
Eleanor had admitted that she loved him. She’d said the words out loud, and it was too late to take them back. Now sitting in the darkening alley which was finally free of Blackboot’s threats, she wondered what she’d done.
She knew it was wishful thinking to hope that he hadn’t heard her. She knew he had. And she couldn’t deny that she’d said the words. Because he’d answered her. He’d said he knew.
Eleanor pulled her legs up to her chest and rested her forehead on her knees. The damp of twilight was already settling across her shoulders, and she shivered. Sophie sat not far away, but the young girl didn’t need her. She had Willie to rely on.
He had his arm around her shoulders and held her close to him. He cared for her, and she cared for him—a bond forged years earlier and never forgotten. Eleanor didn’t even scold the two. Propriety could be well and properly damned in light of what they’d just survived.
Willie was convincing Sophie to come to Southern Oaks and stay a few days. Hopefully, she’d feel comfortable enough that she wouldn’t want to leave.
Eleanor smiled to herself, wishing her own emotions were as transparent as theirs. The simplicity of their lives was enviable. They weren’t encumbered with the many concerns that she felt sure would make a future working side by side with Caleb uncomfortable. Awkward. How could it be anything other than that now that she’d admitted she loved him?
Just a few feet away, Caleb’s men began to straggle in. They’d been overwhelmed by Blackboot’s men who—thanks to the traitor Jeffers—had been lying in wait. They’d bloodied their fists getting through to cover Caleb.
“Take the bodies to the precinct,” she heard Caleb say. “Tell them the Countess of Grattling will be testifying to Jeffers’ betrayal.”
Eleanor closed her eyes and s
truggled to come to grips with how her life had changed. She’d resigned herself to a life surrounded by the children she’d so desperately wanted but was unable to have. They were her joy, her world, her life’s fulfillment. She’d resigned herself to the fact that she would never marry again, because what man didn’t want a son to carry his name into the future? Nobility had no monopoly on lineage.
Between every heartbeat she heard his voice from across the street, counting heads and reassuring his men. His tall frame rose above the others as time and again he would turn and the chiseled features she longed to touch were silhouetted in the early evening lamplight.
She squeezed her eyes shut as she fought the tears that spilled down her cheeks. How could she have been so foolish? How could she let herself fall in love when she knew nothing could come of it? How could she allow Caleb to chip away at the defenses she’d nurtured so carefully? Defenses that thus far had allowed no man to make a place for himself within her heart?
She took a deep breath and told herself she had no choice but to repair the breach and prevent him from taking possession of her very soul.
She wiped the tears from her cheeks, then noticed the boots that stood close to her. She lifted her gaze and focused on Caleb’s outstretched arm.
She looked at his hand, knowing how her hand would feel engulfed in his. She felt him even before their fingers met. Warm currents raced up her arm and swirled around her heart. She knew he felt the same. The intensity of his gaze told her so.
“Let’s go home,” he said as he pulled her to her feet. “Willie, bring Sophie with you.”
Caleb wrapped his arm around her waist as if he were afraid she wasn’t steady enough to walk on her own—which she wasn’t. The severity of her situation became a reality, and Eleanor understood how close she’d come to being killed. And she was terrified when she thought how close the children had come to being homeless again. She had to make arrangements so that if something happened to her, someone would take her place. Someone would keep Southern Oaks running.
The magnitude of that responsibility caused her knees to give out from beneath her. Caleb felt her sway and gathered her into his arms to carry her to the carriage. Eleanor couldn’t argue. She was afraid she might lose consciousness. She wrapped her arm around Caleb’s neck and pressed her cheek to his chest.
“We’ll be home soon, sweetheart. Take deep breaths. I’ve got you, duchess.”
Eleanor squeezed her eyes shut to keep the tears from falling. If only his words were true. If only he did have her.
But she could never allow him to.
Chapter 14
Something was wrong. Eleanor hadn’t been the same since they’d returned from London. And that had been three days ago.
At first Caleb thought having to face death had affected her more than he had realized. It would be understandable if that were the reason she was so distant. But there was something more. He knew there was.
She avoided being near him as often as possible. She no longer came down for breakfast each morning like she had before, but had a tray sent to her room. A footman was stationed outside her study door to prevent anyone from entering. When he approached her study, he was told that Lady Grattling was busy and had asked not to be disturbed.
After attempts to see her over several days, Caleb finally insisted that the footman inform Eleanor that he was there and requested a moment of her time. The answer was the same. She was too busy to see him right now.
Caleb walked away feeling angrier at her than he had thought it was possible to feel. How long did she need to recover from the night they’d killed Blackboot? Unless that wasn’t the reason she was unapproachable. Unless what bothered her had nothing to do with the thought that she might have died. Which meant there was another reason, and the only other monumental thing that had happened that night was that she’d admitted that she loved him.
Caleb stopped where he was and leaned his back on the hard stone wall of the manor house. He dropped his head back until it hit the wall and closed his eyes. Of course.
He pushed himself away from the wall and stormed into the manor house, his determined steps eating the distance to Eleanor’s study. He refused to let her hide away. He refused to forget what she’d said, as if it weren’t the most important confession of his lifetime. Or hers.
He walked up to the footman guarding the study door and gently nudged him aside.
“Lady Eleanor doesn’t—”
“Does it look like I care what Lady Eleanor wants?” He grabbed the latch on the door and brought it down.
“No, Captain. It doesn’t.”
That was all Caleb heard as he threw open the door and barged into the room. Eleanor’s gaze shot up when he slammed the door behind him and stormed in.
“I’ve given you time enough to come to grips with what happened the night we got rid of Blackboot. And I’m not talking about his death. Or the fact that I took the biggest chance of my life and could have lost you forever if I had missed.”
Caleb leaned forward and flattened his hands atop the desk. His eyes locked with hers, and he refused to soften his gaze. “I want you to know that if something had happened to you, I wouldn’t have survived what I’d done.”
“Captain, I—”
“I’m not finished.” He straightened to his full six-foot-plus height. “I heard you, Eleanor. I heard what you said as if you had shouted it from the rooftops. And I wasn’t surprised.” He leaned forward again. “Do you know why I wasn’t surprised?”
He straightened again and walked around the desk until he was next to her. He reached down and clasped his fingers around her arms and brought her to her feet. Fear and hope filled her eyes as he turned her to face him. “I wasn’t surprised, because I’ve known how you feel about me since the first time we kissed.”
She tried to step out of his grasp, but he wouldn’t let her go. Her hands were on his chest but not pushing him away. They seemed to wish him forward.
“No one kisses the way you and I kissed without their true feelings coming through. There’s a passion between us that isn’t common. It’s special. It’s how two people who love each other react to one another. As if you own half of my heart, and I possess half of yours.”
Eleanor turned her head to avoid looking at him. Caleb placed his finger against her jaw and forced her to face him. “Do you know how I know this, duchess?”
She lowered her gaze.
“I know this because I’ve never felt this way about anyone in my life. I’ve never felt as if I couldn’t survive without that person. As if that person is the reason I want to live. As if I’ve already given her my heart because I trust her enough to cherish it.”
“Please, Caleb,” she whispered. Tears flowed freely now. They streaked down her cheeks, and Caleb wanted to brush them away. But to do that he would have to release her, and he was afraid that if he let her go, she’d run away from him.
“Eleanor?” He heard the pleading in his voice but was loath to banish it. He’d beg if he had to.
She lifted her head, and for the first time he saw a raw hurt in her eyes. He saw pain and regret and a sorrow that reached her very soul. The power of it forced his fingers to loosen their grasp, but he could not let her go.
“Do you still love him that much?”
She seemed surprised that he would mention her deceased husband. She lowered her gaze and turned her head.
“I see.” Caleb dropped his hands from her.
Eleanor turned away from him and walked to the window that overlooked the children playing in the yard beyond the house. Caleb ached with every step she took. Her bearing was so changed. She moved not as the regal, confident countess, but as a woman whose hurt had robbed her of her strength. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I never meant for this to happen.”
Caleb told himself that he could survive this. He told himself that no one he’d ever heard of had died from a broken heart. But that wasn’t the way he felt. He thought that
if no one ever had, he might be the first.
He turned, and on legs that trembled beneath him, he left the room and closed the door behind him.
. . .
Eleanor heard the door close and wondered how long it would take her to recover from this loss. She remembered how long it had been after the accident before she thought she would survive. Maybe it was that enough years had passed since that horrible time nine years ago that she didn’t remember how certain she’d been that she couldn’t live another day, but the pain she felt today seemed more intense.
She reached for the wooden window frame to steady herself and watched the children at play. How could they be so happy when her world had just collapsed around her? How could they seem so full of life when she was certain she’d just died inside? How could they run and laugh when all she wanted to do was lie down and cry?
Her breath caught in her throat when Caleb walked across the meadow. It was obvious he hadn’t come out to play with the children, because it took them several attempts to stop him. When he finally did stop, he only remained long enough to throw the ball a few times. He mussed the hair of several of the children in an affectionate display, then continued on his way.
Eleanor lost sight of him when he entered a copse of trees. There was a small stream on the other side of the trees, and Eleanor was sure that was Caleb’s destination. It was quiet there, and he could be alone. If she were him, that’s where she’d be right now.
Someplace where her heart could break in silence.
Chapter 15
Caleb had given Eleanor a week, and during that week she’d avoided him, and when she was forced to be near him, she was distant and unapproachable. She’d made her feelings plain. She regretted telling him that she loved him. She evidently still loved her husband so much that she couldn’t allow another man to possess her heart.
He was left with only one choice. He had to leave Southern Oaks. He couldn’t stay any longer with the way things were between them. It was too painful.
Caleb walked through the meadow where the children played and gave as many of them his attention as he could. He threw the ball for a group of the older boys. Organized races with several of the girls. And even played duck, duck, goose with the younger ones.
