“Well, it seems big brother rescues me yet again.” Jeremy grinned, then noticed Cyril curled around Desdein’s leg. “I suppose that comes with her?”
Desdein tossed Jeremy the reins of Warrior’s Heart. “Get on him and ride. There is a ship waiting in the bay. It shall carry you to the Colonies. Money and clothes are in the bag.” He turned to Ashlyn. “Untie his hands so he can leave.”
“Damned if I shall be packed off to leave you alone—”
“I must deal with this, Jeremy, in my own way.” He glared at his brother, but saw it had no effect.
This seemed so easy in the planning. In his mind he’d set Jeremy on his way, then he’d challenge Kildorne to a duel, face the man as his father once had. Then kill Edward Findlater. Fate full circle. He figured Kildorne’s man would shoot him for the effort, but what did he really have to live for? He was thirty-six, wasting his life playing games of revenge, courting death—for each time he rode out as the Devil in Spurs, it might be the night that cost him his life. Jeremy would soon marry, start his own family. He’d be alone.
Nevertheless, as he stood facing Kildorne, he felt that mangy cat curved around his ankle, purring in his asthmatic wheeze, Ashlyn’s hand at the small of his back, her fingers flexed on the muscles of his upper arm.
Suddenly, he wasn’t alone. Suddenly, he no longer had nothing to lose.
Only he couldn’t back off from his vengeance. He owed his father whom he’d loved.
“You present me with a problem, Marquis. You said you’d trade yourself for Jeremy. I kept my end of the bargain.” Her father moved forward, holding his hand out for Desdein’s weapon.
As Desdein passed the pistol, both Jeremy and Ashlyn pulled the guns out that he’d tucked in the belt at his back. His jaw set. Everyone was muddling his plans!
“Father, give him the gun back. Now. I cannot ride a horse, but you know I am a crack shot.”
Ashlyn held the gun aimed at her father. Not shaking, the woman was resolute, determination etched in the tilt of her stubborn chin. When there was no move to comply, the reckless wench actually stepped before him as a shield.
“You defend a criminal...a highwayman?” Kildorne queried.
“Yes, Father, I would. With my life.”
Desdein batted his eyes, to blink away the forming tears. Knowing if he hadn’t loved Ashlyn before, her words would’ve stolen his heart in that instant. His lady was worth a king’s ransom—worth life itself. There was a strange stillness in him, regretting he couldn’t have seen her value weeks, months ago, when there was still time to turn back from the course he’d set before them.
“Ashlyn, give me the gun.”
She must’ve noticed his odd tone, a tone of finality, for confusion flooded her eyes. “You should take the gold and board the ship, Desdein. Go free. I...I would follow you...if you would but have me. I would not care where we go as long as I was at your side.”
The corner of his mouth twitched in a sad smile. “You and Cyril?”
She licked her lips nervously. “Of course Cyril comes with me.”
Cyril looked up at Desdein and meowed as if saying yes, he would come. “Stupid, worthless cat. I need to shoot you.”
He leaned to Ashlyn and brushed his lips against hers, a kiss so gentle, so sweet he could die for it. With his left hand he took a firm grip on her wrist, then pried her fingers from around the pistol’s grip. “Jeremy,” he said and then gave a faint jerk of his head, signaling his brother to take control of Ashlyn and move her out of harm’s way.
His brother came around, taking hold of Ashlyn’s shoulders, pulling her back. “Come, Lady Ashlyn, leave Desdein to do what he must.”
She jerked away and threw her arms around him. “Please, Desdein, don’t go with him. We can go anywhere. I love you.”
He glowered at his brother, who tried to pull her away. Desdein caressed her cheek with the back of his hand. “I am not going with him, My Love. It ends here...now.”
Her father, watching Jeremy drag Ashlyn to the coach, finally allowed the words to register. He seemed befuddled, then a trace of fear spread over his countenance.
“See here, I did as you said. Release my daughter, de Fournier—” He stepped backward as Desdein moved toward him.
“My name is not de Fournier.”
“I...I don’t...understand...”
Desdein kept walking him back toward the other coach. “Oh, I am the Marquis de Fournier, a title through my grand-mère, distaff side. But my family name is Deshaunt—”
“Deshaunt!” The name rattled the man, his skin turning sallow.
Desdein stopped halfway between the two vehicles. “Yes, John Deshaunt’s son. The man you murdered.”
“It wasn’t mu...murder. It...wa...was a duel.”
“Just like the one we shall have now.”
“Duel...” The man shook his head vigorously. “I...I am not fighting a duel.”
“Shall I shoot you where you stand?”
He saw Horace chuckle silently atop the Kildorne coach, obviously thinking back on his previous threats to shoot him and Dora, so Desdein glared at him.
“Your...fa...father was killed in a fair duel—”
Desdein shrugged. “This one will be fair. Turn your back and I turn mine. Horace count to ten.”
The bald head nodded. “Aye, Sir.”
“On ten we turn and fire.”
“And if I refuse?” The man clutched the gun by the barrel as if he’d never held it before.
“Then the Devil in Spurs will shoot you where you stand, your lordship.” Horace appeared to be enjoying this a tad too much.
The viscount slowly turned and put his back to Desdein. He felt the trembling as they stood shoulder to shoulder.
“One!” Horace called out.
Desdein should have faced the other direction. As the coachman called out, each step took him closer to Ashlyn. Tears streamed down her face as she silently watched him, her eyes pleading. Something brushed the side of his boot and he looked down to see Cyril tottering along beside him.
He saw her mouthing the words, I love you. Do not do this, My Love.
Warmth filled his heart. He wasn’t alone anymore—someone loved him.
Suddenly ravens took flight passing overhead, their cacophony discordant within the fog’s stillness. Ravens. Birds of death in Celtic lore. They carried souls to the otherworld.
He looked at Ashlyn’s grey eyes. Should he soon draw his last breath, the last thing he wanted to see, to carry with him, would be her beautiful face. Only, he’d rather see it each morn as the sun rose. Kiss her by the flicker of firelight. Gaze upon her lovely countenance as she slumbered in the shadowed night.
Sometimes life is as simple as that.
Distantly he heard ten called, but he could only stare at Ashlyn. One last look. He sucked in a breath and turned to tell Kildorne he was calling quits to this. It served no purpose. The dead were dead. Killing Kildorne wouldn’t bring his parents back. Though Ashlyn harbored little love for the man, he was her father, murdering him wasn’t the way to start their life together.
Desdein dropped his arm, the gun pointing to the ground and stared at the man, trembling so hard his knees nearly knocked together. Kildorne lifted the gun and tried to point it, his arm quivering so he couldn’t keep the gun still. Worse, the silly man closed his right eye tight, as if struggling to see. Then he switched and closed the left trying to focus with the right. Finally, he closed both and pulled the trigger.
The ball whizzed past, striking a tree far to his right. Desdein wanted to throw back his head and laugh. The man wasn’t just scared—he was little better than half-blind! He looked to Ashlyn in question. “He always shoots like that?”
She nodded. “He cannot see things at a distance.”
Desdein drank in her tear-stained face, thinking how he loved her. But he had to finish this before he could tell her, show her. She strained against Jeremy’s hold, but his brother’s grip held fast. Wi
cked wench, she tried to kick back with her booted foot, but his brother deftly dodged.
He lifted his finger to his lips, a gesture to hush her, then slowly walked back to the trembling man. “I believe I still have a shot to take.”
The man fell to his knees, hands folded before him in prayer. Eyes skyward, he beseeched, “Oh, Lord, I am a sinner, and if it is Your will that I die for those sins, then so be it. But I will not die with the untruth still spoken.”
“What untruth?” Desdein demanded, stopping before the kneeling man.
The man swallowed and looked Desdein in the eyes. “I did not fire the shot that felled your sire.”
“You cannot see in the distance?”
He nodded.
“Then who?”
“The Earl Whitmore. Of course, he was not the earl then. His father was alive, threatening to disinherit him if he brought any more shame upon the Whitmore name. The old man was on his deathbed. Whitmore and your father fought. Whitmore turned on a count of eight and fired.”
“And you lied,” Desdein accused through gritted teeth.
He nodded. “He paid me. Half his fortune upon his father’s death. I needed the money... Ashlyn’s mother...”
Desdein’s head jerked around to his horse, taking a step. But the man lunged, catching his arm. “No, do not think it. God has judged him. Word came, night before last he was set upon by footpads in London and was beaten senseless.”
“He lives?” Desdein growled.
“Aye, the man does, likely not long. The physician says he will never have his wits again—if he recovers.” Kildorne looked toward his daughter. “Ashlyn has been wronged by me. I am not wicked, just selfish. I was poor when I married Ashlyn’s mother. When she grew ill, it was hard keeping Chattam Lane so it didn’t fall down around our heads. It was hard to watch the woman I loved die a little each day before my eyes. I drowned my sorrow, my worthlessness in the drink, stayed away when the pain became too much. I stayed away too often. One day, I awoke to Ashlyn’s hatred and no words to heal the breach between us. I was weak. Sometimes I just wanted to die so much that I failed in my duty to my daughter. Do not fail her, as well, Desdein Deshaunt.”
Ashlyn finally stomped on Jeremy’s foot, causing him to release her. She ran to Desdein and threw herself into his arms, sobbing.
He chuckled, then wrapped his arms around her, holding her against him. His lady in breeches. “I have never hugged a woman in trousers before.” He looked past Ashlyn to her father. “Looks like you shall get the Marquis de Fournier as a son-in-law after all.”
Kildorne smiled. “If my daughter shall have you.”
He pulled her arms from around his chest where she nearly squeezed the breath from him and eased her back. “Will you have me, Ashlyn?”
His bride-to-be doubled up her fist and belted him in the stomach. Not expecting it, the blow caused him to bend forward. As he gasped, he looked down at the silly cat. “I think that was a yes, Cyril.”
“Perhaps we should retire to Kildorne Manor.” The viscount suggested tentatively, “We have much to set right. Your brother’s name to clear—surely naught more than a young man’s drunken joke gone awry? After all, no one would believe such of the Marquis de Fournier’s younger brother. They wouldn’t dare. Then we much concoct the demise of a phantom called the Devil in Spurs and, I presume, a marriage to arrange? And a longer apology on the ill deeds of a time when I little cared for life. I think with your love of my daughter you might comprehend.” The older man’s eyes watched his daughter with a mixture of pride and pain. “She is so the image of her mother.”
Ashlyn reached out and touched her father’s arm. “I...I never understood you loved her.”
He nodded, fighting the tears. “There are many things I never permitted you to see. Maybe now you know love, you will have an ear and compassion to hear me.” Kildorne forced a smile. “See, daughter, I still know a thing or two. I said the Marquis de Fournier was my choice for your husband above all others.”
She smiled at Desdein, linking fingers with his. “Aye, that you did. He might be a devil in spurs, but he’s my devil and I plan to keep him. Eh, Cyril?”
The cat looked up at them and meowed.
Visit Deborah at her website,
http://www.deborahmacgillivray.co.uk
You’ve read the ‘enchantment’, now we invite you to join us for the ‘magic.’
We hope you’ll look for the companion book in Highland Press Publishing’s
Once In a Blue Moon Series:
BLUE MOON MAGIC
Praise for
Highland Press Books!
Through its collection of descriptive phrases, The Millennium Phrase Book by Rebecca Andrews offers writers concrete examples of rich and evocative descriptions. Browsing through its pages offers a jumpstart to the imagination, helping authors deepen the intensity of scenes and enhance their own writing.
~ Tami Cowden, Author of The Complete Guide to Heroes & Heroines, Sixteen Master Archetypes
***
To Woo A Lady – Erin E.M. Hatton has written a series of short stories covering Regency England and the historical standards and expectations that existed then. I especially liked how she made her characters vulnerable, yet strong. There are no wilting wallflowers here. The men are strong, stubborn and even a bit understanding about the women’s expectations and the realities of the times and world they live in. The author's storylines are believable, enjoyable to read, and take you to a world of time past, with all its warts and pimples as well as beautiful homes and good times at public functions. It's not all peaches and cream, but it's real.
~Aloe, Long and Short Reviews
***
I just finished reading Playing for Keeps and I have to tell you I think this just may be Cynthia Owen's best book to date. I am a big fan of her Claddagh series books. It was a great romance, a lively story and very well-written.
~ Liz, Amazon.com
***
Saving Tampa - What if you knew something horrible was going to happen but you could prevent it? Would you tell someone? What if you saw it in a vision and had no proof? Would you risk your credibility to come forward? These are the questions at the heart of Saving Tampa, an on-the-edge-of-your-seat thriller from Jo Webnar.
~ Mairead Walpole, Reviews by Crystal
***
Hidden Death - If you're looking for a good mystery with a twist of romance, this book just might be what you're wanting. With some books, it's easy to figure out who did it. Not this book! Jo Webnar kept me on the edge of my seat, not sure who was the bad guy and needing to find out. Loved it.
~ Long and Short Reviews
***
Sweet Salvation by Lis’Anne Harris is a fabulous Georgian romance that will leave readers begging for more.
~ Virginia Henley, NYT Best-Selling Authors
***
Timing Is Everything by Annette Olson - A fun Western Romance with a nice dose of suspense. Highly readable, and highly recommended.
~ Michael Angel, Author
***
Ladybugs and Fireflies by Cheryl Alldredge - Simply put, this is a very entertaining story. The backdrop is great—a real southern small-town flavor. There's a few fun unexpected twists, quips and fun, but readers will want to read this for the wonderful characters and the depth of feelings you'll share as you go.
~Snapdragon, Long and Short Reviews
***
On The Wild Side - Gerri Bowen is a master at writing Regency romances that really entertain. No boring drawing room drama here. On The Wild Side is a series of six short stories telling of the romantic struggles of men and women who have something special in their blood. Each one has a special gift. And sometimes those gifts get in the way of their finding true love. I found the premise fresh and the paranormal elements (wood nymphs and such) different in this book than any other I've read. I thoroughly enjoyed it.
~Teresa J. Reasor
***
Hig
hland Wishes by Leanne Burroughs. The storyline, set in a time when tension was high between England and Scotland, is a fast-paced tale. This reviewer was easily captivated by the story and was enthralled by it until the end. The reader will laugh and cry, feel all the pain, torment and disillusionment felt by both main characters, but also the joy and love they felt. Ms. Burroughs has crafted a well-researched story that gives a glimpse into Scotland during a time when there was upheaval and war for independence. This reviewer commends her for a wonderful job done.
~Dawn Roberto, Love Romances
(Also, see the Christian version – Highland Miracle)
***
Her Highland Rogue – Laughter, tears and love shine through this wonderful novel. This reviewer was amazed at Leanne Burroughs' depth and perception in this storyline. Her wonderful way with words plays itself through each page like a lyrical note and will captivate the reader till the very end. Read Her Highland Rogue and be transported to a time full of mystery and promise of a future. This reviewer is highly recommending this book for those who enjoy an engrossing Scottish tale full of humor, love and laughter.
~Dawn Roberto, Love Romances
***
Highland Miracle by Leanne Burroughs - Wonderfully written, with vibrant characters, this story is a masterpiece of historical fiction. Readers will be impressed with the amount of research the author has done. She has creatively mixed actual people with fictitious ones, thereby allowing the reader to enter into this momentous period of history. The anguish and adventure of this war becomes very real, as it provides the reasoning behind the characters' words and actions.
~ Joyce Handzo, In the Library Reviews
***
Almost Taken by Isabel Mere takes the reader on an exciting adventure. Ava Fychon, who is highly spirited and stubborn, will win the respect of the readers for her courage and determination. Deran Morissey, the Earl of Atherton, who is rumored in the beginning to be an ice king, not caring about anyone, will prove how wrong people’s perceptions can be. Almost Taken is an emotionally moving historical romance that I highly recommend.
Blue Moon Enchantment (Once In A Blue Moon Series) Page 24
