by Lydia Dare
“You take her to Bristol,” Armand said to Etienne. “I’ll stay here as long as it takes for Hadley to pull himself out of whatever ditch he’s in. Then I’ll kill him.”
Etienne nodded in agreement.
Twenty-Five
Gray cursed the powers that be as he dismounted from his borrowed horse. He was officially hours late for his own wedding. Livi would be furious. She would be spitting mad. She would probably try to chop off his manhood with a dull knife if he so much as stepped near her. All hopes he had of consummating their marriage on their wedding night were dashed. She would probably make him sleep with the hounds instead of sharing her warm bed. And it was no more than he deserved. He’d missed his own bloody wedding. He tugged his watch from his pocket by the chain and glared down at it. Hours late. Too many hours.
Pebbles crunched beneath Gray’s boots as he started up the walk to Dash’s small manor, yet halted when the innkeeper swung from his horse and fell into step beside him. The man was like a dog with a bone. He wanted his money. All of it. Even though Gray didn’t even owe him as much as a farthing. What an unfortunate turn of events. Damn it all to hell. He would kill Honeywell if the man so much as stepped into his path. And he would take great care to make it painful. But for now, Honeywell would have to wait. Gray needed to get cleaned up so he could go to Livi and beg for her forgiveness.
Gray brushed past the Eynsford butler and started for the cantilevered steps. But Wes’ booming voice stopped him before he even reached the staircase. Gray hung his head and inhaled deeply through his nose. He would never make it to Livi if people kept stepping into his path. “Where the hell have you been?” his twin asked. His face was a mask of fury mixed with worry, which wasn’t like him at all.
“Not now, Wes,” Gray said as he put his foot on the first step. “Do pay the innkeeper at the door, would you?” he said over his shoulder. “I’m sure you owe me for something.”
“Pay the bloody innkeeper yourself,” Wes shot back, turning to walk back toward the parlor. Gray heard his twin mumble softly, “Disappear for most of the night and the next day, and expect to come as you please without explaining yourself.”
He would have to explain himself, but not now. There wasn’t time. Gray sighed. “I don’t have any money, Wes,” he said. “Take care of this for me and I’ll owe you one.”
“You already owe me. I’ve been out searching for your sorry hide all day.”
The jingle of coins from Wes’ pocket as he paid the innkeeper lightened Gray’s heart a little, even though a vicious oath preceded the payment. He could count on his brother, if not anyone else. But then a door farther down the corridor opened, and Gray felt Dash’s presence before he heard his half brother utter a word. Dash stalked down the hallway like an enraged beast. “He’s back?” their oldest brother asked, his voice weary.
Wes jerked a thumb toward the staircase.
“I hope his body is in good shape, because the only way I’ll accept what he did today is if he’s dead. Otherwise, I’ll have to kill him myself.”
Oh, dear God. Dash in a temper was unlike anything Gray had ever experienced. And he’d hoped never to experience it again.
“Get down here,” Dash snapped at Gray as he entered the nearest parlor.
As though his legs were not even his own, for one did not ignore the pack alpha, Gray went back the way he’d come. He swiped a hand down his face in frustration as he followed Dash into his parlor with Wes right behind him.
“Where have you been?” Dash barked as he dropped into a high-back chair. Then he sniffed the air. “And what did you do to make yourself bleed? Drunken brawl? Carriage flip? Deflower a virgin?”
Well, he’d planned to deflower a virgin, but there was little chance of that now. And less of one every second Dash delayed him. “Gunshot wound,” he mumbled to answer his brother’s question.
Wes sucked in a surprised breath.
Dash finally looked at him. His fierce golden brow softened for a moment in confusion. Then he heaved a sigh and said, “Of course you would get yourself shot.”
“So nice of you to be concerned about my well-being,” Gray said. He tugged his watch fob out again. The day was quickly passing. If only his brother would hurry along this interview.
“Do you have somewhere to be?” Dash asked.
“I believe I’m late for my wedding,” Gray said. Very late for the wedding.
“I’ll say,” Wes muttered under his breath.
“We’ve been looking for you all day,” Dash said. “Who shot you?”
“Honeywell.” Gray shook his head, still not quite believing it himself. “He caught me leaving Holmesfield’s house last night. Evidently, he had a bit of a vendetta.”
“That’s what the smell was,” Wes chimed in. “Every time I caught your scent, it was drowned out by the most obnoxious of odors.”
“That’s Honeywell.” Gray hesitated for a moment and then blurted out, “If the two of you are through with me, I need to go to Livi.”
Wes glanced at his toes and Dash almost looked sympathetic when he said, “I believe it’s a little too late for that. Lady Sophia says Miss Mayeux is headed for Bristol.”
“Probably there all ready,” Wes added with a wince.
“Bristol?” Gray’s heart clenched.
“To catch a ship bound for America.”
“Why would she do that?” he sputtered.
“Some women detest being left standing at the altar. I’m not certain why.” Dash rolled his eyes and growled low beneath his breath.
“You just let her go?” Gray growled.
A muscle twitched in Dash’s jaw. “How was I to stop her or her brothers? They don’t answer to me.”
“She could at least have let me explain. Waited a few hours,” Gray barked back. But when Dash raised one golden brow in warning, Gray softened his tone a bit. “Don’t you think so?”
“She was quite hurt,” Wes said softly.
“So, Honeywell had a nefarious plot, did he?” Dash asked.
“He planned to marry Livi himself to pay off his debts.”
“I didn’t know he had any,” Wes chimed in.
Dash shook his head. “With the size of her dowry, she could pay off a hundred men’s debts, I’m certain.” He shot Gray a glance. “Caught you, didn’t it?”
Gray’s mouth fell open. “You know that’s not the case.” His blasted brother had ordered him to marry Livi, or had he conveniently forgotten that part?
“I know you made a fool out of yourself chasing after her skirts, causing tongues to wag all over Bath.”
“Her skirts and her dowry are hardly the same thing.”
Wes touched Gray’s shoulder. “Everyone just assumed you got cold feet this morning. Including your Miss Mayeux.” He winced again. “Poor thing had tears in her eyes.”
He’d made Livi cry? Gray raked a hand through his hair. Damn it all to hell. She’d had tears in her eyes?
Dash pointed a finger at Gray. “Word of warning, you’d better stay clear of Cait and Madeline. They are ready to castrate you on sight.”
“Sophia too,” Wes added.
Bloody perfect. “I was held at gunpoint at an inn for hours, for God’s sake,” Gray bellowed. “I couldn’t get away. Not until the idiot shot me and escaped out the window. And even then, I had to heal enough so I could travel and deal with the belligerent innkeeper.” He scraped a hand down his face in frustration. “Dash, pray excuse me. I need to go get cleaned up and find Livi before it’s too late.” He waited a moment for his oldest brother’s reaction.
Gray flinched when Dash rose from his chair and reached for him, but Dash just wrapped his arms around Gray in a quick, brotherly hug. “I’m glad you’re all right.” He pulled Gray’s torn shirt apart and looked at the gunshot wound. “Looks like it’s healing well.”
“Still hurts like the devil.”
“Explaining all of this to Miss Mayeux may hurt more.” Dash winced. “If you can catch
her, that is.”
If he could catch her? He had to catch her. He couldn’t let her leave for New Orleans without him. He couldn’t let her go another day, another hour, another minute thinking he didn’t want to marry her. Somewhere along the way, he’d become afflicted with the same insane malady that had overcome Wes with regard to Lady Madeline. Something like love. “Bristol is barely an hour away.”
Dash agreed with a nod of his head.
“If I were you,” Wes added softly, “I might not waste time getting cleaned up.”
“She could already be aboard a vessel as it is,” Dash added.
Blast and damn! He’d never forgive himself if he lost Liviana Mayeux for want of a bath and a clean set of clothes.
“Are you strong enough to ride?” Wes asked.
What choice did Gray have? He’d hurt like the devil all the way to Bristol, but he’d lose Livi if he didn’t. “I rode here,” he said instead of answering his twin’s question.
“I’ll have my fastest hunter readied while you throw on a clean shirt and waistcoat.” Dash rose from his seat and made his way to the bellpull.
Gray bolted for the corridor. “Thank you,” he called over his shoulder before bounding up the steps two stairs at a time.
Gray could hear them talking from above stairs. “Do you think he’ll catch her?” Wes asked.
Dash harrumphed. “Better question is what he’ll do if he does.” Dash was quiet for a moment. Then he said to Wes, “Accompany him to the docks, will you? Just to be sure he’s all right?”
“I had planned to anyway.”
“And give him this, if he needs it.”
Gray ripped off his bloody shirt and replaced it with a clean one. There was no time to even contemplate what Dash was talking about. He didn’t particularly care. He appraised his appearance quickly in the mirror. He wasn’t as well put out as he could be. But it was certainly a start. Now to find Livi.
***
Until this very day, Livi had never wished that she’d been born an only child. Of course, until today, her blasted brothers had always listened to her. They might not have agreed with her, but they’d listened.
Bristol’s sea air filled the carriage and she tore her gaze from the approaching port to Etienne, who hadn’t moved as much as a muscle all the way from Bath. “What is Armand going to do to Mr. Hadley?”
“Nothing for you to worry about,” her brother growled.
Well, he could growl at someone else. She’d been raised by Philippe Mayeux, and if Papa’s growl hadn’t ever terrified her, Etienne’s poor imitation certainly wasn’t about to do so. “I simply want to go home. There’s no need injure the man.”
“That’s not for you to decide.” Etienne’s eyes narrowed on her.
“Oh, of course not,” she goaded him. “I’m only the one whose heart has been ripped out of her chest. Heaven forbid I have a say in anything.”
“We finally agree.”
Livi sucked in a breath. “Arse.”
Etienne cracked a smile. “So still not a lady, huh?”
“What’s the point of pretending to be a lady when dealing with thickheaded brothers who won’t listen to reason?”
“Reason?” Her brother snorted. “Retribution is what’s important. More than anyone, you should want to see the wretch punished.”
But Gray wasn’t a wretch. He was… a coward? A libertine? A liar? Perhaps a combination of all three. Or maybe he just wasn’t in love with her. “And yet I don’t want to see him punished. That should have been enough for the two of you. But it wasn’t, was it?” She kicked his shin.
“Ouch!” Etienne clutched his leg. “You kicked me.”
“Quite observant of you.”
“Are you going to be belligerent the entire voyage home?”
Livi sat her tallest and stared directly into her brother’s eyes. “That depends. Are you going to be a boorish lout the entire voyage home?”
Etienne released a heavy sigh. “What do you want, Liv?”
“I just want to go home. I don’t want Mr. Hadley hurt.”
Her brother shook his head. “Your kicking me or scratching me or whatever else you’re considering won’t change that fact.”
Armand had remained in Bath and was currently lying in wait like a dog ready to pounce on a rabbit for Grayson to show his face. “If I’d known kicking you would open your ears and allow you to hear, I’d have done it when we were in Bath.”
“If you hadn’t given your virtue away to some English wolf who doesn’t have the sense God gave a flea, we wouldn’t have to seek retribution at all.”
Livi’s mouth fell open. They had been through this. More than once. “I did not give my virtue away.” Her blasted brother still wasn’t listening to her.
Etienne sat back against the squabs. “Armand and I both saw it. The little crinkle above your nose. So you can stop with the saintly act.”
Saintly act? “Crinkle above my nose?” she echoed.
He touched his brow. “Your whole life, whenever you lie, there’s a little crinkle above your nose, right here.”
What a ridiculous thing to say. “I’m not lying.”
He glared at her. “You had the crinkle.”
“I don’t have a bloody crinkle!” she ground out.
“Be glad we saw it and not Father. We can put our heads together on the voyage home and figure out what we’re going to tell him. You can practice lying without crinkling.”
Father? Why did he need to know anything? “I hardly—”
The coach jerked forward slightly before coming to a complete stop. Livi glanced out the window to see the Bristol Harbor a short distance away. “We’re here,” Etienne said as he opened the door and bounded out. Then he poked his head back inside the carriage. “Wait here. Let me see if I can find some sort of vessel headed west that’ll be willing to take us as cargo.”
Livi shook her head. “What about Armand?”
Etienne shrugged. “If he’s back before we leave, he’ll come with us. Otherwise, he’ll have to secure his own passage.” He narrowed his eyes on her. “Do not leave this spot, Liv.” He touched his nose. “You know I’ll find you if you leave, and I won’t be very happy about it.”
The coach door shut firmly and Livi leaned her face against the glass, looking out at the seaside town before her. People bustling about their chores, seagulls squawking in the distance, and dozens and dozens of ships.
How had it come to this? How had everything spun so much out of her control? Etienne strode purposefully toward the docks and hailed a man on the deck of a schooner. Livi sighed, certain without a doubt that her brother would secure their passage without delay. Then she would leave England never to return.
And what would happen to Gray?
Her breath hitched at the thought of what Armand would do to Gray. She couldn’t sit still, not while those awful thoughts filled her mind. Livi pushed open the coach door and stepped out into the wintry sunlight. The cold sea air whipped about her skirts, reminding her at once of the day she’d arrived at these very docks. All those weeks ago, she couldn’t wait to stow away on the first vessel she happened past, to sail back across the Atlantic and give Papa and Father Antonio a piece of her mind. Bon Dieu, that seemed like a lifetime ago. So much had happened since then.
“Miss Mayeux,” her grandfather’s driver called to her. “Your brother said you were to wait here.”
“My brother can go hang,” Livi replied.
The driver sucked in a shocked breath. But he didn’t try to stop her.
But then she saw Etienne rushing toward her. “There’s a ship bound for home and I just booked passage. We’ll need to board immediately.” He took her elbow in his grip.
Livi jerked her arm free. “I want to stay,” she said.
His face softened. “Livi,” he started. Then he sighed heavily. “If he loved you, he would have been there for you.” He gave her a most pitying glance, one that made her want to punch him between
the eyes.
He was right, however. If Gray had wanted to marry her, nothing would have kept them apart. “All right,” she muttered. “Let’s go.”
Twenty-Six
It wasn’t difficult to pick out Livi’s familiar scent as Gray walked closer and closer to the docks. “She’s here. I’m certain of it.” His heart filled with hope for the first time since the previous night.
Wes just nodded.
“Don’t look so grim. I simply need to find her, explain everything, and she’ll forgive me.” He ventured a look at his twin. “I vaguely remember having to chase Madeline through the rain so you could get her back.” He looked up at the clear sky above. “At least it’s a nice day.” He grinned unrepentantly.
“Just find her, will you?” Wes pushed Gray farther toward the docks.
But just then, a coach emblazoned with Holmesfield’s crest passed them by. Holmesfield? Livi! “Wait!” Gray called to the passing coach.
The driver scowled and kept going.
“Oh, good God,” Wes muttered as Gray started after the coach on foot.
“Driver, stop!” Gray yelled. When the coachman failed to heed, Gray bolted ahead of the carriage with his superior speed, stepped in front of the matched bays, and stood still as a statue. He tried not to wince when the team came to a stop mere inches from his nose. Steamy breath blew from the horses’ nostrils into his face, and Gray had to step to the side to take a calming breath before streaking to the door of the carriage and throwing it open.
“It’s empty,” Gray said to himself when he surveyed the barren coach. His heart sank. Where was Livi? He looked up at the driver, who was holding his whip in his hand as though he planned to protect himself with it. Gray probably looked like a crazed idiot. “Where is she?” he asked the driver.
The man didn’t need any clarification on who “she” was, apparently. He smirked and pointed out over the water. A brigantine stood against the horizon, already moving out to sea.
