Unconventional Suitors 02 - Her Unconventional Hero

by Ginny Hartman

  Without thinking twice, he jumped the short metal fence, not wanting to waste time opening the gate. As he neared, he called out, “Adel,” and watched as she turned startled eyes upon him.

  He had tried to imagine what he would say to Adel when he saw her. He had imagined taking her shoulders into his hands and shaking her until she realized how foolish she had been. He had thought of the scathing words of chastisement and rebuke he would deliver, but in the moment all of that fled and the only thing he could think of was saving her.

  “Griffin, what are you doing here?” she asked, her frightened voice tinged slightly with relief.

  “Yes, brother, what are you doing here?” Lord Moncreif’s voice was strained.

  Griffin glanced at his brother-in-law. “I came to protect you from this monster.” He spoke to Adel but kept his eyes trained to Lord Moncreif. He suddenly felt foolish for coming unprepared. Thinking back to the pistol that lay in a box beneath his carriage seat, he wished desperately that he’d had the foresight to grab it.

  “I’m not the monster,” he hissed. “She is. Publishing the personal details of someone’s life for the sake of amusement—shame on you.”

  Adel turned frightened eyes on Griffin. “Sweetheart, you went too far in writing about his debts,” he tried to explain swiftly. Her eyebrows rose in confusion, but he had no time to analyze the look she was giving him.

  “Yes, sweetheart,” Lord Moncreif hissed. “For once I agree with my brother-in-law. You indeed went too far, and I vow I will make you regret it. How fitting that I should kill you in the spot that will surely be your final resting place. Perhaps I am saving the servants some work by killing you here, for it will save them the hassle of transporting your lifeless body.”

  Lord Moncreif cocked the pistol as he took one step closer. Griffin didn’t hesitate. He did the only thing he could think to do to protect Adel. Reaching out he pushed her firmly into the pond at the very instant he heard the pistol fire. He felt the sharp burning of the ball rip into his upper arm and yelled out in agony as he fell to his knees. The pain was so intense but still his thoughts were with Adel. He forced his eyes open, despite the raging pain that was making his arm throb uncontrollably, and glanced towards the pond. Adel had disappeared completely out of sight, thank goodness.

  He grabbed his arm, where the ball was still implanted, and felt the warm, sticky blood ooze through his fingers. “You will regret this. I swear on my life,” he shouted at Lord Moncreif. “You have my word that I will report your actions to the authorities.”

  “Not if you are dead,” Lord Moncreif pointed out as he threw the used pistol aside, and, much to Griffin’s dismay, pulled another loaded flintlock from the pocket of his greatcoat.

  Griffin cringed. Of course he came prepared with more than one shot. He was certain Lord Moncreif meant to kill him. Then surely Adel would be next. She couldn’t possibly stay under the water indefinitely. The pain in his arm was sucking all of his strength from him. He rose slowly, vowing that he wouldn’t die without a fight. As he stepped towards Lord Moncreif, he groaned. The simple effort of walking jarred his arm causing him even more pain. His eyes closed as he heard the gunshot ring out, knowing in seconds he would be dead.

  “I love you, Adel,” were the last words he breathed as he waited for the ball to make contact with his person. Though he knew she would never hear the words from his lips, it gave him a measure of comfort to know that, at least once in his lifetime, he had uttered them aloud.

  Several seconds passed by and slowly Griffin opened his eyes. Shouldn’t he be dead by now? Had the ball missed its mark? He knew the probability was likely since flintlock pistols were not always accurate. He just prayed that the fiend did not have a third pistol with him, for he was unsure if his relative luck would hold out.

  He glanced to where Lord Moncreif had been standing and noticed his body was laying lifeless and crumpled on the ground, blood oozing from his right temple, the two pistols laying haphazardly on the ground next to the corpse. The man had killed himself!

  A relief like he had never known coursed through his body. He glanced back to the pond hoping to see Adel crawling onto the bank, but there was no sign of her anywhere. Fear slithered through him, replacing his earlier relief. How had she not resurfaced yet? She had been under water far too long. In a fit of panic, Griffin jumped into the water.

  The tepid pond water burned his wounded arm, but he ignored the pain, thinking only of Adel. Forcing his eyes open in the murky water, he looked around desperately for any sign of her. Using his good arm, he swam deeper in the pond and found her, her white dress floating around her like gauze, as she struggled frantically, her arms flailing wildly. It was likely she couldn’t swim, but in his desire to save her, he hadn’t taken that into consideration.

  He swam to her as fast as he could with only one usable arm. He forced his bad arm around her waist so he could use his good arm to swim. He began stroking his arm violently to propel them upward, but was jerked back suddenly. Her dress must be stuck on something.

  Letting go of her waist he swam deeper into the pond. Sure enough, the skirt of her dress was snagged on the branch of a sunken log. Using his good arm he ripped the dress free before grabbing her waist and swimming towards the surface. About half way up he felt her go limp in his arms, and he began to paddle harder, hoping it wasn’t too late.

  Breaking through the surface, Griffin gasped, inhaling a much needed breath of air. He dragged Adel to the edge of the pond and slid her lifeless body onto the bank. She flopped onto the ground like a rag-doll, her face pale and her body limp. He leaned over her, cupping her face with his hands and began shaking her.

  “Adel, please, can you hear me?” When he got no response he leaned in towards her mouth, placing one of his hands on her chest above her heart. He forced his breath to still, which was an almost impossible feat seeing as how he was in a state of near panic. She couldn’t be dead, not now, not ever.

  Relief coursed through his body as he felt her chest rise ever so slightly beneath his palm and felt the faint and slow beating of her heart. She was alive! Scooping her into his arms, he stumbled to the carriage, feeling his strength wane considerably as he did so.

  By the time he got to the carriage, Katherine was holding the door wide open, her face devoid of color, her brown eyes wide and scared. “Is she alive?”

  “Barely,” he answered truthfully as he handed her up into the carriage where Aunt Tabitha scurried to lay her on the seat. The minute Adel was taken from his arms, the last of his strength disappeared. He collapsed on the seat, his concerned eyes never leaving Adel.

  Though the ride to the main house was brief, it felt unbearably long. Each bump of the carriage caused an agonizing pain to shoot through Griffin’s arm. But above his concern for himself and the large amount of blood he was losing, was his concern for Adel, who still hadn’t come to. His eyes were trained on her chest, watching the shallow rise and fall indicating she was indeed breathing with faint hope.

  He wanted to speak with Rose, to gather her reaction to her husband’s death, but the pain in his arm prevented him from doing so. Besides, Rose was busy tearing strips of cloth from her dress and tying them tightly around his arm to staunch the flow of blood.

  As the carriage rolled to a halt, Griffin scooped Adel up into his arms amidst Aunt Tabitha and Katherine’s protests. Ignoring them, he stumbled to the door, balancing her in his arms as he pushed the brass handle down and used the last of his strength to shove the door open.

  The butler startled, his eyes falling on Adel. “Gracious, whatever is the matter?”

  Griffin was loathe to let Adel go, fearing that if he did so, he’d never hold her again, but he felt weaker than he had ever felt in his life, and dizziness was consuming him. He was afraid if he didn’t hand her over, he’d drop her. Shoving her into the butler’s surprised arms, he said, “Help her,” while the pain in his arm, which he had tried to ignore, finally became too much for hi
m to bear and he promptly fainted.

  Chapter 18

  Adel’s head throbbed as an angry pounding made her feel as if she would be sick. Her eyelids felt as heavy as stone, and when the effort to open them proved too strenuous, she opted to keep them closed. Where was she and why did she feel so retched? She attempted to call out, to discover if she were alone, but when she tried to do so, the only noise that escaped her throat was a low groan.

  “Shh, my sweet child. Do not overexert yourself.”

  Aunt Tabitha’s voice sounded in her ears, low and soothing. It was quite the relief to realize that she was not alone, though why her head was aching so was still a mystery to her. She tried to find her voice once more, but when she opened her mouth, she felt a cup pressing against her lips as cool water rushed inside.

  She gulped down the contents of the glass, grateful for the way the water soothed her dry throat, clearing it before squeaking, “Where am I?”

  Aunt Tabitha laid one hand on her forehead. “You are in your bed, at Terrace Manor.”

  “But what are you doing here, and why do I feel so awful?”

  She heard her aunt huff beside her as she withdrew her hand from her head, and though Adel had yet to open her eyes, she could tell by the creaking of wood that Aunt Tabitha had settled into the chair next to her bed. “Do you not remember Lord Straton pushing you into the pond?”

  Adel paused, straining to remember prior events. She did remember Griffin shoving her into the pond, but she wasn’t entirely sure why he had done it. The last memory she had was of her trying to swim to the surface as the air in her lungs depleted. Her dress had been stuck on something and she hadn’t been able to break free. Just remembering the scenario caused anxiety in her breast. She felt her breathing come in short puffs as her chest rose and fell rapidly.

  “How did I get out of the pond? I can’t seem to recall.”

  “Lord Straton jumped in and saved you. For the second time,” she added, admiration evident in her voice.

  “The second time?” Adel asked, confused.

  “You must not remember everything that happened before you were pushed into the pond. Lord Moncreif had his pistol aimed at you, fully planning on killing you. Lord Straton pushed you into the water to save you, taking the ball himself.

  “What?” Adel gasped, her eyes finally opening in alarm. “Is he alright?” Fear suffused her entire being. She had not realized he had been shot.

  Aunt Tabitha’s kind eyes searched hers. When she failed to give her an immediate answer, Adel began to panic. “Please, Aunt Tabitha, just tell me.”

  “Oh dear—he has lost a lot of blood. As soon as he delivered you inside, he fainted. He hasn’t come to yet, but the physician has already attended to him.”

  Adel scrunched her eyes tightly closed, more against the sadness and fear she felt on Griffin’s behalf than against the pounding in her head. He had put his life in danger to protect her. If he hadn’t arrived when he did, she would be dead.

  Her eyes flew open at the thought. Trying desperately to ignore her throbbing head, she turned to Aunt Tabitha. “I’m so confused—why was Griffin at Terrace Manor and how did you get here?”

  “Katherine and I came with Lord Straton. Oh Adel, that article you penned about Lord Moncreif was just foolish. And do not even get me started on the fact that you have been writing a gossip column all season long, right under my very nose. Utter foolishness, I tell you. You not only put your life in danger, but you jeopardized several people’s reputations as well. Whatever would have compelled you to do such a thing?”

  “Whatever do you mean? I never penned a word about Lord Moncreif.” Adel purposely ignored the other stern accusations from Aunt Tabitha.

  “Oh, but you did child. It appeared in Tuesday’s paper. Lord Moncreif did not take it well. He took his anger out on Rose when she refused to tell him that you were the person behind the column. She refused to give him your name, which only resulted in him beating her.” Adel gasped. “Unfortunately her maid wasn’t the least bit reluctant to tell him that you were writing as Mrs. Tiddlyswan.”

  “But how would either of them have known? I didn’t tell anyone…well except for Griffin.”

  Aunt Tabitha looked at her sadly, nodding her head. “Yes, he was the one who told Rose.”

  Adel attempted to rise. “That little—“

  “Don’t you dare insult him,” Aunt Tabitha cut her off. “He risked his life to save yours. It was not his fault that you made such a stupid decision to write that article about his brother-in-law. Had you no care as to how it might affect others? If Lord Straton hadn’t insisted on coming here to protect you, your lifeless body would be lying cold in the cemetery right now and your father’s heart would be shattered, not to mention mine and Katherine’s as well. Now, lie down and get some rest. I have no desire to continue to berate you while you are in ill health. I’m sure your father will do a fine job of it once you are feeling up to snuff.”

  Adel sagged against her pillows. She felt foolish and angry all at once. Aunt Tabitha had never spoken so harshly to her, and though she was certain she deserved most of what was said, she knew she didn’t deserve all of it. And what was this talk of an article about Lord Moncreif? She had never once written about him.

  Turning her head, she tried to ask Aunt Tabitha, but was cut off before a single word escaped her lips. “Shush child, I refuse to allow you to speak anymore. Get some rest then we can discuss whatever you wish later.”

  Frustrated, Adel closed her eyes and sighed. It would be no use trying to force any further information out of Aunt Tabitha now—when she refused to speak, it was nearly impossible to convince her otherwise.

  In her mind she saw Griffin running towards her as she stood next to the pond, his face had been twisted with concern. She had honestly thought she would never see his face again, and her heart had leapt at the sight of him. Now, that same heart that had danced with excitement was now filled with concern. What if he died and she never got to see his black eyes probing into hers? Or see the way he smiled at her when he had let his guard down—not the arrogant, rakish smile he used to seduce the ladies of the ton, but the boyish, genuine smile that she had only ever seen bestowed upon her?

  Her heart ached worse than her head as warm tears trickled out the sides of her eyes, rolling down her face and puddling onto her pillow. It was all her fault that he was hurt. And though it was his fault that her heart was broken, she knew that in time it would mend, but he may not have that same hope.

  Eventually she fell asleep, but only because her body was still weak. In her mind she resolved to go see Griffin as soon as she could, if only to set things right and thank him for saving her life.

  ***

  Adel awoke in the middle of the night with Aunt Tabitha snoring lightly by her side, in the same spot she had been in when Adel had cried herself to sleep. She coughed lightly to see if it would disturb her Aunt’s sleep, but Aunt Tabitha didn’t so much as flinch.

  Feeling relieved, Adel peeled back her covers and swung her legs slowly over the edge of her bed. Her head began to swim as she stood so she paused to brace herself, waiting until she felt steady in order to continue. Grabbing a candle off of her nightstand, she bent to light it in the hearth before tip toeing quietly from the room.

  Once she was safely in the hall, Adel looked left and then right. Katherine’s bedchamber was directly next to hers, with Aunt Tabitha’s being the one next to Katherine’s. She stared across the hall at the three closed wooden doors, knowing they hid guest chambers that were rarely used. Now, she must figure out which one Griffin would be staying in.

  She thought of each room—the one across from Aunt Tabitha’s was the least used of all and the smallest. It was decorated in shades of blue, with painted paper on the wall. It was a lovely room but not one that they put company in when either of the other two rooms were available.

  The room directly across from Katherine’s was frilly and pink, a very decidedl
y feminine room. When Adel had been a child she used to beg her mother to let her have that room for herself. The canopied bed had seemed like something a princess would sleep in, and she still couldn’t understand why her mother would never let her claim it for her own. The thought of Griffin being tucked into the ruffly, pink coverpane made her want to laugh. No, she was certain her father would never have put him there.

  She stared at the last remaining door, the door directly opposite her own, and knew immediately that she would find Griffin inside. The thought of his large, masculine form sleeping so close to her made her feel warm. For the briefest of moments she hesitated, weighing whether she should be so bold to enter his chamber alone, but her concern for him outweighed any trepidation.

  The door creaked ever so slightly as she pushed it slowly open. The room was dark, save it be the small circle of warm light that was radiating from her candle. She knew from memory that the room was decorated in a deep, rich green, with thick velvet curtains hanging from the two windows facing south. The large bed loomed before her, beckoning her to its occupants side.

  Adel glided over to the bed and gasped as her eyes settled on Griffin lying as still as death on his back in the center of the bed. Even in the dim light she could tell that his face was pale. His chest was bare, but the sheet had been pulled up, covering nearly everything but his shoulders and arms. Still, Adel could see the thick, dark hair that covered his upper chest and disappeared into the sheet. Her first reaction was to reach out and touch it, to see if it felt as coarse as it appeared.

  It surprised her how suddenly her curiosity over his body replaced her initial concern. She set the candle gingerly on the nightstand and in a move of bravery, she allowed herself to reach forth and touch his chest. His skin was warm and the hair wasn’t as coarse as she thought it would be. Her belly pooled with heat as she slid her hand over his muscled shoulder and trailed it down to his injured arm. The white bandage stood out in stark contrast to his brown skin. Her fingers traced it ever so lightly, not wanting to cause him any pain.