A Promise of More

by Bronwen Evans

  She quickly realized the carriage was a private, well-appointed one. It wasn’t a plain old hackney. Its seats were comfortable; it had a clean, well-kept smell, with a hint of lavender in the air, indicating it was likely a woman’s carriage.

  Her mind immediately went to Christina. She had money and influence, and was a snake.

  She didn’t know how long she had been unconscious, so she had no idea of the time. She didn’t want to open her eyes to see whether it was still dark in case it alerted her abductor to the fact she was conscious.

  After what seemed like an eternity, but was probably only five or ten minutes later, the carriage came to a halt and she knew where she was.

  She could hear the seagulls, she smelled the water, and she could hear the creaks and groans of the ships tied up at the dock. Her body went ice cold. Was she going to be sent away? If she left England on a ship, how would Sebastian ever find her? For the first time in her life, she felt real fear.

  The carriage driver called down through the hatch, “My lady, we are here.”

  Beatrice tried to ensure her body didn’t move in shock. Her hunch was correct. She knew who “my lady” was, because there was only one person it could be, Lady Christina Rossiter.

  What on earth was she up to?

  Luckily, Christina still thought she was unconscious, Beatrice realized, for the woman opened the carriage door and stepped down, calling up to the driver, “We need to get one of the men to help us move her. She is too heavy for you to carry alone.”

  Beatrice tentatively tried to move her legs and found she wasn’t bound. Their mistake. They had relied on the fact that she would be comatose; they had obviously got the dose wrong. She saw the opportunity and she took it. She kicked open the door on the other side of the carriage, exited through it, and took off at a run. She had to find cover and quickly, for a man would be able to outrun her. Up ahead to the left were lots of crates and boxes and items standing ready to be loaded onto ships. She headed for them. Hopefully, in the darkness, she might be able to lose them, and she prayed and hoped that Sebastian knew she had been taken.

  She could hear the driver coming after her, searching desperately through the dark dock for her. She moved further in among the crates, trying to find a space where she could squeeze herself, a hiding space where he wouldn’t think to look for her.

  The driver searched and searched but couldn’t find her. She could hear Christina yelling and getting angrier as time went on. It seemed like an eternity before she heard another carriage arrive and Christina call for her driver.

  She sneaked a peek and relief washed over her. It was Sebastian’s carriage, but to her horror she saw Dunmire emerge from it—on his own. What had Dunmire done to Sebastian? She crept out of her hiding place and, using the cargo as cover, edged nearer, trying to hear the conversation.

  She couldn’t hear what he was saying but he and Christina seemed to be arguing. Then she heard Dunmire yell, “You can’t kill her, she’s mine. That was the agreement. If you don’t let me have her, I’ll tell Sebastian your sick, sordid plan. Then he’ll never want you.”

  Christina gave a laugh that sounded full of madness; it was followed closely by a gunshot. Beatrice drew in a ragged breath. Now there was no one to help her. At daybreak it wouldn’t take them long to find her hidden among all the crates. She prayed Sebastian was not harmed and that he or the other Libertine Scholars would get here in time.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Then to Beatrice’s horror Sebastian stepped out from behind the coach and walked slowly toward Christina. Didn’t he know he was addressing a madwoman?

  Beatrice’s blood ran cold. He was here because of her, and Christina could shoot him as easily as she’d shot Dunmire. The only thing that kept Beatrice calm was the fact Christina had already fired her pistol and it wouldn’t have a second shot. Besides, would Christina kill the man she wanted?

  Even so, Beatrice couldn’t leave Sebastian to face a madwoman on his own. She slowly and carefully began to slide out from where she had been hiding and worked her way back toward the two carriages, hidden by the cargo and darkness. Christina’s driver seemed to have disappeared; he’d probably run off when Dunmire was shot.

  Then she heard something that made her freeze on the spot.

  “You did well to kill Dunmire, my love. You do know he was the one that set up my duel with Doogie.”

  Christina gave a smile that could freeze hell. “I’m glad I could be of service. However, as I recall, you were actually having a liaison with me at the time you slept with Clarice Hudson, Doogie’s mistress.”

  “That was a mistake. I think we can both agree on that.”

  “All charm as usual, but I’m no longer fooled by your beauty. You don’t have any real feelings for me and you never did. You play with women’s hearts and discard them as mere amusements. I’ve never known anyone so cruel.”

  Sebastian raised an eyebrow. “You knew the score. You knew I wasn’t looking to marry. In fact, that’s why I’m here. I want to ensure you actually kill Beatrice this time. I want my freedom back. So where is she? Perhaps I can help you finish the deed.”

  Christina pulled out a second gun from inside her pocket. Obviously she didn’t believe a word Sebastian said.

  “So what is it you want from me then, Christina? Come now, we could kill Beatrice and blame it on Dunmire. There is plenty of evidence against him. Beatrice is bringing up his son. We could even make out that they were lovers and that Dunmire’s son was Beatrice’s.”

  Christina looked at him, surprised. “Dunmire has a son with Beatrice? So you were fooled as well. I actually admire her upon hearing this. For once, a woman has put something over on Sebastian Hawkestone, the Marquis of Coldhurst. And she managed to trap you into marriage, something I never managed to do.”

  “I will eventually have to marry again; perhaps it would be better to marry a woman who understands how it will be. Beatrice, unfortunately, is not called Henpeck Hennessey for nothing. She was driving me quite mad. You, however, would know to let a man have some breathing space.” He moved closer to the madwoman holding the gun, and Beatrice almost yelled out for him to stop. “So come now, bring Beatrice out and let’s finish this, and you and I can go back to your house and celebrate.”

  Christina was vain enough to fall for Sebastian’s ploy. She shrugged her shoulders and gestured toward the crates, the gun in her hand flicking wildly.

  “She is somewhere on the dock. She managed to escape the carriage. I don’t know where she is. We’ll have to find her first.”

  As soon as she had uttered those words, Arend, Maitland, and Hadley came storming out from behind the coach. Sebastian moved forward before Christina could react and grabbed the gun from her and handed her over to Arend.

  “Spread out, we have to find her.”

  Beatrice stepped boldly out from behind the crates and Maitland gave a shout: “There she is!” And when she saw the look of relief on Sebastian’s face, she wanted to fling herself into his arms and never leave.

  Christina gave an angry yell, understanding she’d been tricked. She looked up at Sebastian with hatred and tore out of Arend’s arms. She fumbled in another pocket and pulled out another small pistol, Beatrice’s lost pistol. Sebastian and the men started to back away, but Christina was focused totally on Sebastian.

  Beatrice couldn’t help it. She moved away from the safety of the crates and called out, “No!”

  At her cry Christina turned abruptly to face her and now the gun was pointed at her. Beatrice didn’t care, as long as it was not pointed at Sebastian.

  Beatrice continued to walk toward Christina, trying to keep the woman’s attention solely on her.

  “I’m the one you want. I’m the one you came here to kill, not Sebastian.”

  She could hear the panic in Sebastian’s voice as he cried, “Don’t do this, Beatrice! She is mad. She will kill you.”

  But Beatrice didn’t care. Sebastian had given up
everything for her. He had a family to care for—two families, because there was hers as well. She would not see him killed here because of her.

  Christina didn’t say anything. She just slowly raised her arm and pointed the pistol directly at Beatrice’s heart.

  It was as if everything happened in slow motion. Beatrice saw the look in Christina’s eyes and knew she was going to fire. She held her breath waiting for the pain of the bullet to rip through her, and as soon as the gun fired she closed her eyes, ready for what was to follow.

  But several seconds later she was still standing with her eyes closed, and the realization that she hadn’t been hit slowly entered her brain. A smile broke over her face. Christina had missed.

  Beatrice opened her eyes and sought out Sebastian but she couldn’t see him. Then she looked down and Sebastian was lying on the ground, blood pouring out of a wound just under his shoulder. Christina had been tackled to the ground by Maitland and was being carted away. Hadley and Arend rushed to Sebastian’s side while Beatrice could only stand stuck where she was. She couldn’t face it. She couldn’t bear the fact that Sebastian might be dead. Then she heard a low moan and her husband say, “Is Beatrice all right?”

  She quickly moved to Sebastian’s side, dropping to her knees, tears streaming down her face. “You stupid man. What on earth were you doing?”

  He didn’t answer; instead one hand wrapped around her nape and pulled her down for a kiss that ended on a low groan as Arend pushed down hard on his wound.

  “We need to get him home and soon, he’s losing a lot of blood.” The concern in Arend’s voice told her it was not a flesh wound this time, and icy fear gripped her.

  “Hadley’s already gone for the doctor.” Maitland’s calm voice steadied her. She had to stay calm for Sebastian. The two men lifted him into the carriage. Beatrice climbed in, sitting on the floor beside him and holding his hand.

  Arend whispered, “Keep talking to him, keep him awake. I’ll keep the pressure on the wound.”

  Beatrice felt Sebastian shiver. “You’re cold. I’ll get the rug.” She lifted the other seat and pulled out the rug and wrapped it around Sebastian. His face was pale and the cloth Arend pressed on his chest was soaked in blood.

  She noticed Sebastian’s eyes were fluttering shut, so she leaned closer and spoke into his ear.

  “Thank you, darling, for saving me. I owe you.”

  Sebastian gave a small smile. “You don’t owe me anything, sweetheart. I’m so grateful you propositioned me that day on the boat. I would never have met you otherwise.”

  “You saved me that day too. You pulled me from the water when I thought my lungs would burst.”

  “You looked like a mermaid.”

  She laughed. “I looked like a drowned rat.”

  “A rat with magnificent breasts.”

  Arend coughed and tried to look away.

  “You’ve embarrassed Arend. Who would have thought?” she teased. Sebastian began to nod off. “No.” She tugged his hand. “Don’t you fall asleep on me. Look at me, darling. Keep looking at me.”

  His eyes briefly flittered open. “I’m so tired. Have to sleep …”

  Beatrice cried out as she watched the man she loved slip into unconsciousness. She raised a tear-stained face to Arend but his grim silence did nothing to still her racing heart. She couldn’t lose him now, not when she’d finally found a man she loved and who loved her. God couldn’t be so cruel.

  This time the men kept her and Sebastian’s sisters out of Sebastian’s room for a reason. He was fighting for his life and they didn’t want her to see it.

  She’d never felt so useless. Even Henry noted the somber atmosphere and appeared to be on his best behavior. However, Beatrice had faith. Faith that Sebastian would not leave her.

  It wasn’t until later the following day, when Christian and Serena secretly arrived on their doorstep, that her faith vanished. Arend had sent for them.

  She didn’t even stay to greet them, instead immediately going to Sebastian’s room, daring anyone to get in her way.

  The room was dark and Sebastian thrashed on the bed, infection ravaging his body. A nurse was trying to restrain him and keep his body cool.

  Beatrice went immediately to the window and opened it, to let the stale air out and cooling air in. Then she dismissed the nurse and took the stool by her husband’s bed. She rinsed a cloth in cool water and placed it on his forehead.

  She soothed him like she did Henry when he had a fever, whispering softly to him, letting him know she was there. Would always be there.

  At her touch and the sound of her voice, he immediately ceased thrashing. She took his big hand in hers and kissed it.

  “I love that you are such a fighter, sweetheart. I want you to keep fighting. I’m here waiting to spend my life loving you.”

  He murmured something she couldn’t hear, but she continued. “In fact, there are two of us waiting for you to get well. I’m with child.” She took her hand and placed it on her stomach. “Not confirmed yet, it’s too early to tell, but I’ve missed my courses and I’m usually regular, as regular as night becomes day.” His hand weakly pressed her stomach. “So you see, you can’t leave us. You can’t leave our child without a father. I know the man you are and you’d never desert your son—or daughter.”

  She sat talking with him all though the night. Telling him of the life they would have, the many children they would create, and how happy they would be. Goading him, challenging him to live and be part of a proper family.

  She must have fallen asleep near dawn, because she awoke to find herself in Christian’s arms, about to be taken from the room. She struggled, wanting to stay.

  Christian stopped and turned round so she could see the bed. “Shush, Beatrice. Sebastian’s fever has broken and he’s asleep. You need to get your rest if you are to be of further help to him. I suspect when he wakes he’ll call for you. We all know what a terrible patient he is; you’ll need all your strength.”

  Relief flooded through her and she suddenly felt very tired. “Thank you.”

  Christian merely nodded and continued on to her room, then laid her down on her bed. “Get some rest. Serena has Henry, and the girls have been in to see Sebastian and at present are also in bed resting. The worst is over.”

  “Is it? We still are no further ahead in finding the culprit. Arend and the others are still at risk.”

  “But Sebastian is alive. That is enough for now.”

  She had to agree. Her prayers had been answered.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  The next morning, when she entered Sebastian’s room, he was awake, propped up on pillows, and although still pale, he looked very much alive and very much a man.

  She almost skipped across the room to him, her heart swelling with love.

  The smile he sent her was filled with love too. He held out his hand and as she took it he pulled her down on the bed next to him and kissed her senseless, heedless of the girls and Aunt Alison in the room.

  “He is feeling better,” Aunt Alison said dryly as she rounded up the girls and took them from the room, leaving the couple in privacy.

  He choked up with emotion. “I heard you in my dreams. You wouldn’t let me leave.”

  “Sebastian,” she whispered. “You’ll never be free of me.”

  “I never want to be. You and the baby are my world.”

  She pressed her palm to his cheek and lifted her gold-tipped lashes, tears on the ends of them. “You heard me. Our child,” she said in a shaky voice. “I thought I’d lost you, Sebastian.”

  She hugged him around his neck and rested her cheek atop his hair. They held each other in trembling silence, flooded in gratitude that they had lived and that new life was growing inside her.

  “I don’t know what I’d have done if I’d lost you,” she said. “Life teaches us many things. To think, I originally thought marrying you would be worse than death. Now, not having you in my life, to hold, to care for, to l
ove, is what I fear more than death.” Her words, softly spoken, held such determination.

  “You’ll never lose me, darling. I’ve too much to live for.” His big, hard body, weak from his illness, tried to hug her tight. He bent his head and placed a kiss on her forehead. “Gosh, I’m as weak as a kitten.”

  She smoothed his hair back from his gorgeous face, loving every tired line and rugged curve.

  “I love you,” he finally said, his tempestuous eyes filled with emotion. “When I thought I’d got there too late, that I’d already lost you … God, I never want to have that feeling of despair again. You must never leave me no matter how stupidly I behave or how angry I make you. I can’t live without you, my little firebrand.”

  “I promise to be by your side always,” she murmured, drawing him to her.

  They lay contentedly caressing each other and gazing into each other’s eyes. She kissed his forehead and then his lips, feeling the flare of desire ignite, but that would come later. Later, when he had his strength back, he would make love to her until she dropped from exhaustion.

  She nestled down against his chest with a sigh, feeling that at last everything was right with the world. Knowing this was exactly where she belonged.

  Soon he dropped back to sleep, and she stayed with him, holding him as he dreamed.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  A month later they were back in Dorset at Christian and Serena’s country estate. Sebastian was fully recovered and had his strength back.

  He had proved it by spending the past week making love to her almost every minute of the day. If she hadn’t already been with child, a fact now confirmed by the ecstatic Dr. Jamieson, she would be now.

  All the Libertine Scholars had gathered except, of course, Grayson Devlin, Viscount Blackwood, but at least they had received word from him. He would be landing in Deal, Kent, in a few days’ time. In addition, Sebastian had considered it prudent to bring Marisa, Helen, Aunt Alison, and Henry to Dorset too. Just in case.