by Laura Landon
Ross was filled with an uncontrollable rage unlike anything he’d ever felt before. He swung out his fist, pummeling at Chadwick’s face with every ounce of strength he possessed. Even after the vicar sank downwards, Ross didn’t stop. He pulled back his arm and smashed his fist into the vicar’s face again. Then again. And again.
Not caring that blood was streaming from Chadwick’s nose and mouth. Not caring that the vicar could hardly stand on his feet. Not caring the groans and grunts after every punch were weaker and weaker.
“Ross! Enough! You’re going to kill him.”
Strong hands held him; kept him from striking out at Chadwick again like he wanted to.
“Let him go!”
He heard the words but it took several seconds for them to register. When they did, Ross shoved Chadwick’s body away from him and watched him drop to the floor.
Josie!
Ross rushed to the bed where she lay. He was almost afraid to touch her, afraid that if the bastard had killed her, even Sam couldn’t stop him from murdering him. He took a deep breath and leaned down to her.
“Josie,” he whispered, touching her cheek. Her face was pale, her lips tinged with blue, and her eyes rimmed with dark circles. But her flesh was warm.
“Josie.”
“Is she breathing?” Sam asked, pressing his fingers to the side of her neck.
“I don’t know.”
Ross lifted her head and gently cradled her against him. The minute he moved her she moaned.
“Take a big breath, Josie,” he whispered, keeping her in his arms.
“Breathe, dammit! Breathe.”
After what seemed an eternity, she opened her mouth and filled her lungs with air.
“Again, Josie. Take another breath.”
She took another. Then, as if her body told her she’d gone without air too long, she sucked in one gasp after another.
Ross coaxed her to breathe, then calmed her when the nightmare she’d just lived through came back to haunt her. He murmured in her ear, assuring her that everything would be all right now, and telling her she had to recover because the children needed her.
Ross knew the room was a hive of activity but paid little attention. He was more concerned with Josie’s struggle to break free of the haze that clouded her mind. That was more important than the commotion in the room.
Sam sent a footman after Agent McCormick who arrested Chadwick and took him away. Lady Clythebrook hovered close by for the next several hours, leaving only after Ross and Doctor Hallam assured her Josie would be fine and needed to rest.
A servant came in with fresh tea and plates of sandwiches and cakes several times, but Ross wasn’t hungry and Josie wasn’t alert enough to eat. Sam came back just before dark then left with his promise to come back in the morning.
Finally, the sun went down and the house grew quiet. And Ross was alone with Josie.
He sat at her bedside and held her hand in his. For long minutes her sleep would be deep and peaceful, then she’d toss restlessly and he’d gather her up against him and croon her back to sleep. It was hard for him to look at the bruises on her face that evidenced what she’d gone through. It was hard for him to imagine any hurt she’d endured and know he hadn’t been there to protect her. He loved her so much he vowed he would never let anything happen to her again.
“You’re still here?”
Ross lowered his gaze and saw Josie watching him, her eyes open as if she’d been studying him.
“Where else would I be?”
She shut her eyes briefly and sighed. “Perhaps with Major Bennett … standing guard outside my door … waiting to arrest me.”
He held her gaze and fought the inner turmoil that wouldn’t let go. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I thought I could stop them myself. I thought when I told Captain Levy … that Baron Lindville said it was getting too risky … the smuggling would stop.”
“But when you mentioned Baron Lindville, Captain Levy knew you were lying because Baron Lindville wouldn’t have made that decision. Vicar Chadwick would have.”
“I had no idea he was involved.” She winced, then closed her eyes.
Ross moved to sit beside her on the bed. “Why did you step in front of me?”
“Because I—”
She stopped, then continued with measured words.
“Because Charlie’s lost enough. I didn’t want him to lose his father, too.”
“You could have been killed.”
“So could you.”
“I know. It’s over now. We’ll talk later. You just need to rest.”
He lifted her uninjured arm and pressed his lips to the tender flesh of her palm. Pure molten heat shot deep in his belly and he kept her hand nestled in his own. He wanted to tell her he loved her; he needed her to know. But not now. Not until he could prove he meant every word he said.
Ross watched her for a moment then leaned down and kissed her lightly. “Sleep now, and don’t worry. I’ll see to it that you’re always safe.” He brushed his fingers down the side of her face. “It won’t be long and the cattle will bring in enough so the children will never have to go without again.”
Ross heard her breathe a contented sigh as she twined her fingers in his. This was where she belonged. Where he wanted to keep her forever.
He stared into the dying fire and thought of everything he wished he’d told her but hadn’t.
“I love you,” he whispered. “I nearly lost you once but I won’t chance losing you again.”
Ross relaxed into the chair, his hand still holding hers, content for the first time since his father had made the Rainforth name synonymous with traitor.
…
Josie sat propped up against her pillows and watched Ross doze in the chair beside her. Except to meet with Major Bennett and Agent McCormick for a few hours yesterday, he hadn’t left her side since she’d been shot three days earlier.
She knew why. He felt he owed her. She’d saved his life, after all. But he couldn’t ignore St. Stephen’s much longer or the cattle venture he was determined to set in motion. And the business with the smugglers still wasn’t settled. She’d overheard Major Bennett tell him he’d have to go to London to verify everything. No, it wouldn’t be long now before he’d be too busy to stay with her. Before he’d leave to go back to the life he’d left behind.
She had no idea falling in love was anything like this. She’d never realized it would hurt so much when it was over. Or that watching him leave her would be so hard. But he didn’t belong here. He needed to return to London and take his place in Society. It’s what he’d wanted from the very beginning.
He didn’t talk of London much, only when she asked him a direct question. But when he did, she could hear the excitement in his voice. She could picture him in his formal blacks, going out for an evening, either to a ball or the opera or to one of his clubs.
Even though he didn’t admit it, she knew he missed being a part of that life. As soon as word reached the drawing rooms that he’d been instrumental in shutting down one of the largest opium suppliers in England, there wouldn’t be a hostess in all of London who wouldn’t proclaim him her guest of honor, or a proud papa who wouldn’t try to snare the infamous marquess for his daughter. And that was how it should be.
Josie pressed her hand over the heavy weight crushing against her chest. It hurt every time she thought of how this would end. She’d been so foolish, so very, very foolish. She’d fallen in love with the Marquess of Rainforth. A marquess. Exactly like her mother had done. Only she would not hold onto the delusions her mother had refused to abandon—that someday her marquess would give up everything to marry his mistress. That had been her mother’s fatal error. Josie wouldn’t make the same mistake. She wouldn’t live her life dreaming of something that could not happen. Or believing in miracles. Even if the moon were full and filled with magic.
She watched him sleep a little longer. He was the most magnificently handsome man
she’d ever met. It wouldn’t take long at all before some beauty snatched him for her husband. For as much as it hurt to imagine him in someone else’s arms and someone else’s bed, she wished him well. And she would always have the memories of him in her arms and inside her body to remember. To cherish. She would make those memories last a lifetime.
Josie swiped at a tear that escaped from her eye and looked up at the soft knock on the door.
Major Samuel Bennett took a step into the room then stopped when his gaze rested on where Ross slept in the chair. “I told him country life was making him soft.”
“I’m afraid it’s my fault. I’ve been very demanding of his time. He’s under the misguided assumption that my injury is his fault and that he must devote endless hours to be at my beck and call.”
Ross moved. “The injury is my fault and I’d be lying in that bed instead of you if you hadn’t foolishly stepped in front of me. I am not,” Ross opened his eyes and sat up in his chair to finish his sentence, “devoting endless hours at your side because of some misguided guilt. I am devoting endless hours at your side because I cannot bear to think of being separated from you. You’ve captivated me, Miss Foley.”
Josie made a very unladylike snort and rolled her eyes in an effort to hide the redness she knew was growing on her heated cheeks.
Ross stood. “Are you leaving, Sam?”
“I need to get back to London. McCormick’s set up a meeting with the Queen in a week’s time. Be ready to join me. As soon as the Queen hears the role you played in capturing the smugglers, she’ll no doubt want to reward you for your service. It’s no more than you deserve. Her recognition will make it impossible for Society to ignore you.”
“Perhaps.”
“More than perhaps, Ross.”
Sam leaned over Josie and kissed her gently on the cheek. “Thank you for what you did. I’d like to explain the part you played in stopping the smuggling ring and saving Rainforth’s life, but it’s best if the authorities don’t find out you were connected with the smuggling.”
Josie knew exactly what the major was implying. “Thank you, Major.”
“My pleasure. Take care of yourself and recover quickly.”
“I will. Have a safe journey to London.”
He nodded and turned to the door. Ross followed him. “I’ll see you out,” he said and left after promising to be back shortly.
Josie stared at the empty door until he returned. She smiled when he walked back into the room and kissed him back when he kissed her like he was used to doing for no reason at all. That was another memory she would cherish.
“Will you go to London?”
He nodded. “I’ll have to. I’ll accept all the pomp and accolades even though I cringe at the thought of such exposure. I don’t have a choice though. Being accepted back into Society isn’t just for me, but for Charlie. I’ve sent word for my solicitor to draw up the papers that will make him a Bennett, and someday inherit St. Stephen’s. I want the Bennett name to be one he can wear with pride. And I want him to be able to walk into any home in London with his head high and the scandal my father placed on our shoulders a distant memory. Can you understand that?”
She nodded. She understood that and more.
She understood that this was the end. She understood that once he left she could never let him come back.
She put a smile on her face and looked up at him. She wouldn’t let herself regret what she’d done. The passion they’d shared was the one perfect, magical memory she could hold onto.
Jaded Moon
by Laura Landon
Ransomed Jewels Series Book Two
CHAPTER 24
Josie sat on a bench in the garden beneath a shade tree and looked out at the flowers that were just beginning to bloom. Ross had been gone more than a month and she thought that by now the emptiness wouldn’t hurt so much. But for some reason she couldn’t explain, she hurt more.
On the outside she was healing every day. It wouldn’t be long and she’d be well enough to go to the orphanage for at least a few hours. She wasn’t sure how much longer it would take to heal on the inside. Or if she ever would.
She tried not to think of the promise she’d stopped him from making the day he left—that it would not be long before he came back to her—because she knew it was a promise he couldn’t keep. He was the Marquess of Rainforth. She was the illegitimate daughter of one of nobility’s mistresses. She could hardly play a role in his life. Not if he wanted his children to be accepted by Society. So she let him go.
The letter she’d written him had been the hardest words she’d ever composed. She’d had to tell him in terms he couldn’t misunderstand that she didn’t want him to come back to Clythebrook Manor. That what they’d shared was over and if he ever returned, she wouldn’t receive him. She’d given him no reason for not wanting to see him again—what reason could she give him that he wouldn’t try to refute. Except that in time, he’d realize she didn’t belong in his life. And he must already because he hadn’t written her in return, not even to tell her he’d received her message and agreed with her decision.
Josie felt another tear fill her eyes. She seemed to do that a lot lately for no expected reason. But then, she’d heard that was common for what she suspected might be wrong with her. She swiped the tear away and when she looked up she saw Lady Clythebrook coming down the path. Josie put a smile on her face and made room on the bench for Lady Clythebrook to sit beside her.
“Are you enjoying the sunshine, Josephine?”
“Yes, it’s a beautiful spring day. Come, sit with me. The flowers are starting to make an appearance.”
Lady Clythebrook sat. “I just received a letter by post from my friend, Lady Sheffield. You remember her. I’m certain I’ve spoken of her before. She’s the Countess of Sheffield and she and I have been friends since we had our come-out together. She’d set her eye on the Earl of Sheffield—who wasn’t an earl yet, but only a viscount—the minute she’d seen him. I, of course, had already decided I wanted Walter. I’m afraid we both behaved scandalously. But that’s another story.”
Josie knew all this, but let Lady Clythebrook relive what to her was a special memory.
“Anyway, she says she penned this letter the minute she returned from the Duchess of Dunsmore’s ball. You’ll never guess who the guest of honor was.”
“Who?” Josie asked, even though she knew.
“The Marquess of Rainforth. She says that everyone in London is vying for his attendance at their balls. She says—well, listen to what she says—‘You can’t imagine the stir young Rainforth is making, especially after the lavish ceremony Queen Victoria hosted in his honor. The queen has made it impossible for anyone to turn their backs on him and numerous affairs are being hastily planned with Rainforth as their guest of honor. He has taken the ton by storm. He is such a dashing young man and so very handsome—No, Constance. I’m not so old that I cannot take note of a handsome young man. And he makes sure to find time to attend them all, even making an appearance at two or three events in an evening. He’s doing his best to set his foot firmly back into Society and from all signs, even the haughtiest are welcoming him with open arms. Especially anyone with a daughter of marriageable age.
‘You should see the young fillies lined up to demand his attention. It’s scandalous, Constance. Girls are much more brazen than we were in our day. Why, young Miss Hawkins, that’s Baron Hawkins’s second daughter from over by Leicester way, had the temerity to feign a swoon while Rainforth was escorting her in to dinner. Everyone knew she’d done it so he’d be forced to catch her. And, of course, her gown just happened to slide down exceedingly low to expose a great deal of her generous bosoms.
‘Well, this only increased the efforts the other females are being forced to make to attract his attention. A short while later, the Duke of Perringot’s eldest daughter, Lady Margaret, tried to trap Rainforth in a compromising situation in the garden. Luckily for him, his friend Major Bennett
and his wife, who was the former Countess of Huntingdon—well, she wasn’t really, but that’s another story—came upon them to act as chaperone before Lady Margaret had time to put her plan into motion.
‘Needless to say, the unmarried lasses are getting more desperate in their attempts to trap him and it won’t be long before he finds himself leg-shackled.’
Lady Clythebrook folded her letter and placed it in her lap. “He’s making quite a sensation in London. Has he written when he plans to return?”
Josie shook her head. “I don’t imagine it will be for quite some time. He needs to be there. I’m sure there are several details to take care of, and it’s important for him to regain his place. Not only for his own sake, but for Charlie’s and the other children he is bound to have once he marries.”
“If you’re up to traveling, we could leave tomorrow and, if we proceed with caution, we can be there within the week. Then you could—”
“I know what you’re trying to do,” Josie said, patting Lady Clythebrook’s hand, “but I have no intention of going to London. I think, though, that tomorrow I will go to the orphanage for a couple of hours. The children have all written their good wishes and I miss them terribly.”
“I know you do. I also know you miss him terribly. I only wish there were something I could do.”
“There isn’t,” Josie said, squeezing Lady Clythebrook’s fingers. “We both knew this was how it would be. Lord Rainforth doesn’t belong here. He never did.”
“I think you’re wrong, Josephine. This is exactly where he belongs. We’ll just have to see whether or not he realizes it.”
Lady Clythebrook gave Josie a smile then stood. “Are you ready to go inside?”
“No. I think I’ll stay here a while longer.”
“Very well. Don’t take a chill.”
“I won’t.”
Josie watched Lady Clythebrook make her way back to the house, leaning on the cane she always had with her. When she was out of sight, Josie lifted her face and let the sun bathe her a little while longer, then stood to go back. She’d spent enough time for one day reflecting on things she couldn’t change. She took two steps toward the house and lifted her head. And stopped.
