Logan’s hand stilled in the process of caressing the hollow of her neck.
She studied him, his reaction, before smoothing his brow. “You didn’t think that I understood your intentions?”
“It is how I feel. I never considered that it would matter.” He kissed her shoulder.
“Of course it matters, however I will not allow you to sacrifice yourself for me. We will fight whatever comes our way together. I will fight for us, because I am strong. I am a survivor.”
A survivor.
Logan and his wife had that in common. Each was a survivor. Surely, that was in their favor.
With his intricate plans, danger would follow.
They would require each other’s protection.
“My life couldn’t be in better hands, Mrs. Ambrose,” Logan tipped her chin. “I mean that. Truly.”
Arabella shot him a wry grin. “I know and I feel the same about you. So, when are you going to tell me about your plan to defeat my sister?”
Expelling a deep breath, Logan’s previous euphoria was now replaced with a deep-rooted anxiety. Grabbing hold of his heart, seizing it, wrapping tight tentacles of dread around it until he thought it might burst.
For the first time, Logan wondered if it were better to have kept his heart barricaded. Would he be more ruthless? Would he have sensed Sybil’s London charade before Arabella was caught completely unawares?
“Sybil hasn’t succeeded because you love me,” Bella’s intense stare sent a chill through Logan’s spine.
Like little pinpricks, the feeling intensified until he wondered if some random needles were stabbing his spine.
How did she suspect what he was thinking?
“You are questioning if you can become the mercenary you once were when you now love me.”
Her monotone assessment wasn’t entirely accurate.
“True, I have questioned whether I should have suspected your sister’s true intentions but, no, I don’t doubt whether I can become that mercenary again. He and I are one and the same, love,” Logan caressed her shoulder in small circles. Repeating the shapes, a never-ending cycle. “I question whether you will still love me once you catch a tiny glimpse of what I am capable of.”
“Not only will I still love you, I will love you more,” Arabella’s eyes locked with his. “Our only course of action is to outfox Sybil. We must outmaneuver her and everyone she has crossed. We have no choice for it is our survival or hers. You and I both know it. Our survival is essential, as is that of our friends, our extended family. Colin, Eve, Victoria and their families are in danger. Sybil saw us attending the opera with them – she will suspect that they are privy to her secrets.”
“I know. It is all I can think of. I have placed them in danger.” Logan raked his hands through his hair.
Arabella shook her head. “No. They were aware of the risks. They were brave for us. Now, we must shield them from harm.”
His wife was correct.
It was life and death again.
For Logan, his bride and all they loved.
That is what made Logan a mercenary – his ability to survive when it came down to life and death decisions.
His family was all that mattered now.
Arabella and … it was possible Arabella could be carrying their child. It may not be probable but there was a possibility. Their family was in danger. So was Colin’s family. And Victoria’s family.
All of them, all their lives hung in the balance.
Though Logan excelled in these high risk situations, he was a realist. He acquired his wealth following the death of someone close to him, someone who trusted him, someone who believed in him.
His family, his friends, trusted him as well. What were the odds that all of them would survive this current danger unscathed?
Arabella. Colin, Eve and their daughter. Fiona. Victoria, Tristan and their children.
So many people to protect.
So many people in danger.
Perhaps, love doesn’t make one weak but instead makes you strong? Because one has so much to lose.
He repeated the list again. Arabella. Colin, Eve and their daughter. Fiona. Victoria, Tristan and their children. All were family and friends. People who he cared about, people he must be strong for, be brave for.
Logan refused to lose anyone else he cared for.
Not now.
Not again.
He would defeat Sybil because he was a cold-hearted mercenary. He would review his plans because their flawless execution was imperative.
Whenever doubts arose, Logan would douse them by reciting his list of those he loved.
Arabella. Colin, Eve and their daughter. Fiona. Victoria, Tristan and their children.
All would survive.
Because Logan refused to consider the alternative, and because Sybil knew not what he was capable of.
Allow her think she has won the battle, allow her to become complacent, then cause her to doubt herself. Arthur would aid on that front, publicly toying with Sybil while remaining anonymous. At the precise moment when Sybil has sunk to rock bottom, Logan would strike.
Sybil would walk straight into his trap.
Because, unlike Logan, she knew nothing about love. Odd, since she grew up in an adoring family. Perhaps that is what separated him from Sybil?
While she discarded the love offered to her, Logan cherished such emotion.
Love … a precious gift.
He knew nothing of it until Arabella.
Now he would never let it go.
Yes, Logan would fight for the lives of everyone he cares for. He would fight for their futures because they mattered more than Sybil did.
Again, he silently ticked off the list of those he loved. All will survive Sybil Sutton. Even if Logan had to kill the monster himself.
Because he had everything to lose.
Logan refused to allow Sybil to steal one more moment away from him, let alone one more person he loved.
Winterthorne was brimming with activity. Servants prepared the estate for its public debut while Logan and Arabella worked with their guests to fortify their intricate ruse to systematically destroy Sybil.
Arabella often wondered how she could be so accepting of such a plan. Sybil was her twin after all. Nevertheless, whenever Arabella recalled her sister’s misdeeds, she felt no guilt about the events to come. Because Sybil had been in complete control of her own destiny.
Oh, how, Arabella wished she had been offered such a choice. Instead, Sybil had chosen to betray her own sister for the fleeting promise of fame and fortune.
She had sentenced Arabella to death.
In return, a public fall from grace was the least Sybil deserved. Yes, she belonged in prison and that was indeed a possibility, as was the fact that Sybil could die. Someone wanted her dead once. Why not again?
Why not, indeed?
As cold-hearted as that may sound to some, Bella recognized that her sister had made a choice.
So had Arabella.
Bella chose her life with Logan. In truth, it was not a difficult choice for Logan was her family far more than Sybil had ever been.
Blood truly doesn’t bind people. Bella learned that lesson the hard way, when Sybil implicated her in a crime she didn’t commit.
Sentenced to death by her own twin.
She and Sybil’s blood ties mattered not. The seas could bleed their crimson blood and still Bella would make the same choice. To choose the family she had with Logan, to choose their friends. To save them all from her sister’s deadly machinations.
It was all about choice.
Each twin had made her own.
Now it was time to execute the confrontation.
“Please repeat that one more time,” Tristan said, staring at a large drawing of Winterthorne’s interior, which was currently laid out on the lengthy dining room table.
“Tunnels run behind these walls,” Logan pointed at the yellowing map, the guts of the ominous estate fa
ding into the discolored paper.
“Do we even know how old this configuration is?” Colin tapped the drawing. “How do we know this is accurate? I think we must map the tunnels ourselves.”
“You don’t trust the drawings?” Eve furrowed her brow.
“Think of how many generations have resided here,” Victoria chimed in. “How many tunnels, exits, entrances have been added or sealed? Colin is right. We have no choice but to do so ourselves. We cannot leave anything to chance.”
Arabella placed her hand on the small of Logan’s back. “I concur. Leave nothing to chance.”
“Agreed. We cannot afford for anything to go wrong.” Logan kissed his wife’s head. “Shall we travel in pairs?”
Tristan nodded. “Victoria remains here – she can sketch a new map for us.”
“It must be a large map. I doubt we have the paper.” Arthur spoke at long last. An imposing figure, he was well versed in silence, at brooding in the corner, and speaking only when addressed or when he felt it was imperative.
Victoria laughed, surveying the far wall.
All heads snapped towards her.
“What is so amusing?” Eve asked her sister-in-law through narrowed eyes, as if assessing whether Victoria had gone stark raving mad.
“Logan is about to acquire a mural and a rather large one at that,” Victoria motioned to the tapestry hanging on the far wall. “Arthur may I ask you to remove the décor on the wall against which you lean?”
Arthur acquiesced in silence, immediately doing as bid.
The pairs would consist of Logan and Arabella, Colin and Eve, and Tristan and Arthur.
“Shall the women change into something more appropriate?” Logan suggested.
“Yes, we mustn’t muss our gowns,” Eve teased as Colin escorted her to their rooms.
Arabella’s gaze turned towards her husband. “Care to escort me?”
He grinned. “Always.”
As they were about to exit, she heard Tristan say to Arthur, “Let us get started.”
Tristan kissed his wife, who wrapped her arms around his neck. “Be careful.”
“Darling, this is highly improper. What will Arthur think of you hanging on me like this?” Tristan arched his brown brow.
Victoria tipped her head to the side. “Arthur, close your eyes please.”
Arthur turned to face the wall, granting them complete privacy.
Laughing, Victoria teased her husband. “If ever I was planning a kidnapping, Arthur is the man I would use as my accomplice. No offense, dear Arthur.”
“None taken, my Lady,” Arthur bowed toward the wall.
Tristan embraced his wife. “I shall remember that if I ever have need to kidnap someone.”
“I am retired,” Arthur coughed in his hand.
Both husband and wife laughed, their shoulders shaking with mirth.
Arabella squeezed Logan’s hand, her pace quickening until they were safely ensconced in their suite of rooms.
“What are we doing?” she beseeched him. “They are making quips while we are sending them into harm’s way.”
“They are well aware of the risks, my love,” Logan cupped her face in his palms.
Releasing an audible sigh, Bella fought to keep her rapid breathing steady. “That fails to ease my anxiety for them.”
“I know but we must remain positive. They need it, as do we. We cannot wallow in failure or we shall never succeed,” Logan kissed her hair.
It had become a habit.
One that she savored. Like his passionate kisses and his warm embraces. Like falling asleep with their fingers entwined. Their habits, intimate and comforting.
They filled her heart with joy.
“How do you always know what will calm me?” Bella pressed her forehead against her husband’s chin.
“Because it is my duty as your husband.” Logan splayed his palms on her hips.
Bella’s abdomen tightened. “I fear we are running out of time, Logan. With each day that passes, we must protect someone else. Arthur is an asset but Harry …”
Harry had become lazy, imbibing too much of Logan’s port.
“I have cut Harry off. I fear he is becoming a drunkard.” There was a hint of amusement in Logan’s baritone.
Arabella shot her husband a wry look. “He is long past becoming a drunkard. And – well, there is someone else now.”
Placing her hand on her abdomen, Bella inhaled a deep, cleansing breath and counted to ten. “We are expecting, Logan. This is such wonderful news, yet it worries me because he or she—
“Is safe,” Logan flattened his palm against her abdomen. “I will protect you and our child. Both of you. You must know that.”
“I do. On that I have no doubt,” she was quick to assure him. “It is just one more person to add to your list.”
“That baby has been on my list, since I conceived said list.” Logan’s obsidian gaze was gentle and knowing. “Whether he or she was already conceived, I know not, but I have always included our child on my list. That is why we are ensuring that we have anticipated every scenario. Because I am protecting my family, as are Colin and Tristan. And we are protecting each other.”
Bella smiled.
So did Logan. “You are glowing. Even more so than usual.”
“Because I adore you and our family.” Placing her palms atop his hands, Arabella added, “This child and I are both so fortunate for you are ours.”
“Now and always,” Logan kissed her lips. A gentle kiss that conveyed his devotion, his happiness and his strength.
“You should rest. You and our child have done much today.”
Though Arabella knew she should argue, she chose to rest. It was best. “Just this afternoon. I will return to work tomorrow.”
“Agreed,” Logan kissed her. “I love you.”
He closed the door behind him and Bella stared at the mahogany door for several long moments.
“We will be all right,” she said aloud, pressing her hand against her stomach. “Your father has promised us. He never breaks his promises.”
Yes, Logan would protect them.
Until his dying breath.
Such was her unspoken fear. One that she failed to share with Logan. Arabella was well aware that her husband would give his own life to protect her and now their child.
She prayed he would never be placed in that position.
“She is carrying our child,” Logan announced, pacing the span of his office.
Colin leaned against Logan’s desk. “Congratulations, mate.”
“Thank you,” Logan nodded. “It is wonderful news.”
“Why, pray tell, do you sound so morose?” Colin grimaced.
Logan threaded his fingers behind his neck. “Because this whole scheme centers on Arabella luring Sybil into the dark, winding tunnels hidden within Winterthorne and leading her to an underground theatre that hasn’t been used in decades and coercing a confession from her sister without Sybil realizing that her victims are secretly seated in the theatre listening to her every word.”
“It is a precarious proposition,” Colin stared at the wall. “What do you suggest?”
“A change of plans,” Victoria’s skirts rustled as she and Tristan entered the room.
Logan scratched his chin, now rough with stubble. “I thought we were meeting in the dining hall.”
“Neither my wife nor I are imprudent, Logan,” Tristan offered his wife a seat in one of the leather chairs. Once she had settled, he plopped in the empty chair beside her. “We both deduced that something was amiss and now you have confirmed our suspicions. Let us not feign ignorance.”
“What do you suggest?” Colin asked.
“You have several options,” Tristan spoke in a nonchalant tone of voice. A former barrister, no one could argue a case better than Tristan, nor could anyone lay out the facts with as little emotion as Tristan could when circumstances called for it.
This was such an occasion.
“Option one is that you run. It is not a viable option, really. You will have a baby and running with a babe is difficult to say the least.” Tristan leaned forward.
“Gentlemen, let us skip to the only viable option, shall we? We are all thinking precisely the same thing – that Arabella cannot lead Sybil into those tunnels.” Victoria stood, shaking her skirts in a most dramatic fashion.
Logan couldn’t discern whether it was intentional or she was formulating a plan before speaking.
Wringing her hands, she opened her mouth to speak then closed it. After a long pause, she proclaimed, “Yes, this could work.”
“Care to share, my darling?” Tristan drawled.
“We transform this event into a masquerade. I switch places with Arabella and lure Sybil through the tunnels. Arabella will wait for us inside the theatre downstairs, where we will discreetly switch places without Sybil being the wiser.”
“Like hell you will,” Tristan strode towards his wife. “That is lunacy and you know it. We have two children who need their mother safe. You cannot do this.”
Victoria wrapped her arms around her husband’s neck. “You and I both know what can happen when a pregnant woman faces a monster. Do we want to watch as someone else suffers like we did?”
Averting his eyes, Logan met his best friend’s gaze. Colin’s somber expression confirmed what Logan suspected. That Victoria and Tristan had lost a child. Though the miscarriage was never discussed with Logan present, he had been aware of their plight at the hands of their adopted daughter’s biological father. The man had kidnapped the little girl and wounded Victoria.
Now that Logan knew the particulars, it turned his stomach until bile rose in his throat. He would not allow his family to suffer like Victoria and Tristan’s.
However, he wouldn’t place Victoria in danger either.
“Victoria is correct. Arabella should not lead Sybil into the tunnels. We can come up with a scenario where neither Bella nor Victoria are at risk,” Logan interjected.
The Wolf of Winterthorne: Scandalous Secrets, Book 4 Page 21
