by Shayla Black
“You sound as if you’re jealous of your own cousin. As if you’re concerned he may poach on your territory.”
Gavin wanted to tell Darius he was being ridiculous. But the man was right. He didn’t want anyone to touch Kira, despite the fact he had no right or claim to her himself. The feeling was contrary and irrational, he knew. But it was there.
He said nothing.
With narrowed eyes, Darius approached. “That’s most odd, in light of the fact you’ve done the poaching. Isn’t that so?”
He hesitated, suddenly very grateful Darius had chosen a spot well out of earshot from the shack. James did not need to overhear this conversation.
Several retorts sprang to Gavin’s mind before he discarded them. Whatever ills he had heaped upon himself by seducing Kira, he did not want to compound them by lying to her brother.
“This is between your sister and I.”
Gavin hoped, more than believed, that his response would mollify Darius.
“You are fortunate, your grace, that I do not have my gun with me.”
Indeed, he felt lucky when Darius cursed, something low and menacing. Of course, he deserved that and more for ruining Kira, for being virtually unable to control his need for her.
“You give every impression of being upstanding and honorable, even morally superior. Apparently, it is a complete lie, because I’m almost certain you bedded my sister.”
Kira’s brother waited for him to confirm or deny his suspicion. Still Gavin said nothing. He was nearly as angry with himself as Darius was for treating her so. He cared for her—he did. But Gavin knew he could not marry her, not without subjecting himself and his family to the most harmful sort of gossip, not without tearing his family apart. But most compelling of all was his loss of control when she came near. He was not a wild man, but she made him that way, hot and lascivious—a true libertine, just as his father had been. If he married her, he would never know a moment’s sanity again. And likely, neither would she.
He could eventually become exactly like his father, willing to do anything to appease the lust, no matter how scandalous. And Gavin could not bear that, nor would it be right to force Kira to endure it.
Oh, it would not happen in the first ten minutes, maybe not even in the first year. It had taken a full decade for his father to fall in the thick of madness. But once he had, he had been lost forever.
With a shudder, Gavin remembered his sire’s wild dark eyes, his shirts smelling as if he’d laundered them in brandy, the descriptions of his ultimate sin plastered in the dailies, the disgust on his mother’s face before she died…
God help him. Gavin did not want such a fate.
With no defense against Darius’s accusation, he remained mute, directing his gaze just over the other man’s shoulder.
“You pompous, lecherous whoremonger…”
Outrage tightened every angle of Darius’s face. Gavin saw the man charge toward him and did nothing. Whatever punishment Darius meted out, Gavin knew he deserved.
The first blow landed with a solid smack across his jaw, jerking his head to the side. Gavin rubbed it without complaint. The second blow ploughed through his mid-section. It hurt like hell, and Gavin struggled for his next breath. After a groan and a few pain-ridden seconds, he staggered upright and regarded Darius again in silence.
“How could you?” Darius panted, seethed, fists clutched at his sides. “How could you seduce your own cousin’s fiancée? How could you use an innocent girl who’s been through such danger and vicious gossip these past months for bed sport?”
He hadn’t intended to ruin Kira. He did not want to hurt her now—or ever. Still, Gavin did not voice these sentiments or any other, knowing anything he said would be the wrong thing.
“Damn you, how?” Darius demanded.
Unfortunately, it had been all too easy. Once he had held her, he simply couldn’t stop. Even last night, she’d uttered touch me so softly, with such earnest blue eyes, he’d been unable to release her. Nor could he deny that touching her was an aphrodisiac and more. Something about her went straight inside him and dismissed reason and sanity. Something compelled him to possess her at every opportunity possible, something that overrode all good sense, despite the fact nothing had ever tested his reason in such a way before.
Gavin very much feared that “something” was the bad Daggett blood. His father had described the very same phenomenon. Despite the fact making love to Kira felt so incredibly right, genuine remorse for the wrong he had done to her attacked him.
“You bloody lothario,” Darius growled between clenched teeth. “When Lord Vance is disgraced and my sister is safe from his kind, I will come after you.”
The rage in Darius’s dark face told Gavin he was very serious. And even though he knew nothing he said could bring back Kira’s virginity—even if he wanted to give it back—Gavin felt compelled to say something to ease the situation between them.
“I admire your sister very much.”
The rage on Darius’s face sharpened. “But not enough to marry her.”
“I cannot.”
“That’s bloody rubbish!” Darius leaned in, aggressive with fists of anger. “You choose not to marry her.”
Darius could never fathom the scandal in his family’s past or understand all Gavin had yet to live down. Nor could he understand the sense of duty he possessed to Aunt Caroline. And the responsibility of his title and estates… Any man of the peerage would understand that having a Persian duchess, even if only half, would, at best, raise brows. At worst, it would make him look the most irresponsible sort of fool.
Even more, Darius would never understand his own inner struggle against himself and his legacy of tainted blood or the ruin that indulging it could lead to.
Cursing again, Darius leaned away, releasing his fists. “I want your promise. I want your vow that once we leave Cornwall behind, you will not attempt to stop your cousin from marrying my sister.”
Darius asked for the impossible. “They will make one another miserable. Kira needs—”
“Do not presume to tell me what my sister needs. At the moment, she requires a husband of good reputation and nothing more. Do you mean to take that away from her as well?”
Gavin hesitated. “She is not a clergyman’s wife.”
“I know that. But you’ve forced the issue now. What if Kira should conceive? What then, Lord High-and-Mighty?”
Yes, what? He righted his coat, tidied his cravat. Lord, he would love to see a child of his and Kira’s creation, but it would ruin her life. “I am not the type of man to let my child or its mother do without, but do not make both her and James unhappy for life.”
Darius regarded him with a hostile stare. The men took one another’s measure in a moment of volatile silence.
Finally, Gavin sighed. “Tonight, let us focus on Lord Vance. We cannot afford to delay on this issue any longer. I am as eager as you to see him punished for what he plotted to do to Kira.”
Teeth clenched, Darius hesitated, glaring at him. Long moments passed, and Gavin tried not to squirm under the man’s intense fury.
“Then we will catch him. But do not imagine that you have heard the last on this subject from me.”
Gavin had no trouble believing that Darius meant every word he said.
* * * *
The night came in a flurry of fog and low clouds. The moonless sky hung dark and mysterious. Darius and Gavin rode toward Fentlet Manor, exchanging very few words.
“According to my sources in Vance’s household, his lordship has been courting one local girl, a retired Colonel’s daughter,” Darius began. “He plotted their elopement for tonight. The other girl is a farmer’s daughter seeking the excitement of London. She’s a pretty thing with big blue eyes and a crown full of red hair. Apparently Vance has promised to see her to London when next he travels there, which he told her would be tonight.”
Darius had done a good job at infiltrating the viscount’s household and di
scerning his plan. Gavin was impressed with Kira’s brother. He was smart, resourceful, and determined to see justice prevail.
“Where are we going now?”
“There’s an abandoned church adjacent to Vance’s property. He’s told both of the girls to meet him there, rather than risk having them journey to his house where too many servants could be witness to whatever he plans next.”
Gavin nodded. Again, Darius’s findings were perfect. The man might be a mere shade over twenty, but he carried himself with far more wisdom.
A half mile from the abandoned church, they dismounted from their horses and secured the animals to trees. As leaves swayed in the warm wind, they set off on foot in the dark, each step through the fragrant spring grass taking them closer to their prey.
Finally, they arrived at the ruins. Darius withdrew his pistol as they approached the blackened carcass of the burnt-out chapel. Gavin grabbed his gun as well.
As they crept toward the building, they found a pair of sentries in dark clothing. To avoid detection, Gavin and Darius crouched behind a convenient bush and studied the guards.
The first looked unfamiliar, but he wore a ragged brown hat that hid his face in shadow. Having been very close to the other, however, Gavin knew immediately he was the man with the grotesquely scarred lip.
The two thugs nodded as they passed one another, then strode on, intent on circling the building again.
Gavin glanced at Darius, who nodded. They waited in the humid spring night for the guards to turn their backs. Finally, they each disappeared around opposite corners of the place.
He and Darius rose to action. The hum of crickets chirping covered the sound of their footsteps.
“I’ll go `round to the front, dispense with the guard, and find a way in,” Darius whispered. “You take the back and the other guard. When I give the signal, we’ll trap Lord Vance between us.”
Gavin nodded.
“I want the swine taken alive, if possible.” Darius gripped his weapon tighter. “I want him able to endure the humiliation and censure my sister has.”
Unable to disagree with the younger man’s wish, Gavin nodded again. Darius turned away.
Tension hung thick in the air as Gavin crept around one side of the black, fire-licked walls, and Darius around the other. Gavin’s palms turned damp as he gripped the weapon. His heart pounded. Would they catch the bloody bounder who had tried to sell Kira into prostitution? Gavin hoped so, but thus far Vance had proven as slippery as the snake he was.
While Gavin could not marry Kira, he could end this nightmare for her. And perhaps in exposing Vance’s scheme to the world, he could help redeem her reputation, at least somewhat.
Soon, Gavin snuck up behind the thug with the brown hat. As he approached the man’s broad, hulking back, he raised his Blanch four-barreled pistol. Quickly, Gavin knocked the fiend’s hat off with one hand, and as the man whirled to face him, he slammed the heavy pistol down on the guard’s head. Instantly, the burly man fell to the ground in a heap.
Suddenly, a cry rent the air. Darius? The tension in Gavin’s stomach tightened into a painful bite as he spun around. Another scream followed, this one higher pitched. Gavin realized both screams sounded distinctly female.
Vance had his female victims inside.
Gavin’s heart took off like a skittish horse, galloping until it roared in his ears.
He entered the abandoned building through a crumbling arch that had once been a door at the back of the church and clung to the shadows against the half-standing walls. Stone stumps sat in rows where the wooden pews had once risen upon them. Stained glass lay in shambles on the floor at the far end of the building, refracting what little light the moon sliced through the thick clouds.
Then Lord Vance set a lamp between two squirming supine figures at the altar.
Ducking behind the first of the stones of the pews, Gavin made his way to the next on his hands and knees. Still hidden in shadow, he crept closer and closer until he began to discern the girls’ bare feet and calves dangling over the slabs on which they lay.
Lord Vance eyed one with a jaundiced gaze. Gavin rose up on his haunches so he could discern the girl’s condition. He was shocked to find them both completely naked, bound hand and foot by chains to the large stone slab.
Horror swept through Gavin. Bloody hell, what kind of animal was Vance?
Then Kira’s words came back to haunt Gavin. He only knew of my birthmark because, after he offered me marriage and promised to take me to Gretna, he took me toward London, tied me to a bed, and stripped me naked.
Lord Vance examined the redheaded girl’s breasts dispassionately. “Shame on you, Charlotte. Your dresses led me to believe you were far more buxom. Did you stuff them?”
Charlotte’s muffled scream let Gavin know the fiend had gagged her.
“It’s of no consequence, I suppose. Some men appreciate a small-breasted woman,” he muttered. “Though why men appreciate big breasts is beyond me. They’re like giant cow udders.” He shuddered.
Then he lowered his hand between her legs.
Charlotte roared, her body arching, bucking. Lord Vance only held her down with a steely hand at her hips.
The shadows prevented Gavin from seeing all, but he knew what Vance was about. The thought sickened him. Then he remembered Kira. She had been through this? Vance had touched her in this manner? She would have been bloody terrified and horrified by the degradation he’d forced her to endure.
Gavin’s temper reared until he began to see red. He glanced at the far end of the altar, but found it empty. Damnation, where was Darius? Gavin was beyond ready to fight.
Vance finally withdrew his hands from the redhead with a smile, then patted her cheek. “You’ve been a good girl, Charlotte. Your virginity is most pleasing.”
Charlotte’s taut body language told Gavin the girl was outraged enough to kill.
Gavin felt his stomach turn. How could Vance be so twisted, so cold? How could he live with himself for making a fortune in innocent girls’ torture and victimization?
Vance then turned his attention to the other girl.
“Beatrice, is your hymen still intact or have you been naughty?”
The girl flung her head from side to side, screaming behind the barrier of her gag. She was as ready to fight as Charlotte—but equally bound by chains.
Gavin winced as he saw Vance’s hand disappear between Beatrice’s thighs. Though the girl writhed and bucked, the evil viscount finished his examination with ease.
He had to stop this, Gavin thought. Now. Scanning the windows behind the altar, he still found them empty. Where the hell was Darius?
“Excellent,” Vance purred. “How pleasing that both of you are so pure.” Vance ran a dispassionate hand over Beatrice’s breasts. “And you will be especially popular with the gentlemen, for you have the kind of breasts most men salivate over.” He rubbed his hands together. “I’m going to be rich.”
Both of the girls cried out, Charlotte arching in fury.
Vance ignored them. “Not as wealthy as if I’d succeeded with Miss Melbourne.” He pouted for a moment. “But you two will do. And perhaps she is not lost to me yet.”
The twisted knave still had designs on Kira? No. Oh, no. Vance would never touch her again.
To hell with waiting!
With a roar, Gavin rose up and sprinted to the altar, pistol in hand. Lord Vance whirled at the sound, withdrawing a knife from a sheath strapped to his thigh. As Gavin drew close, the viscount lunged at him. Gavin raised his gun, arm trembling with the need to shoot. Lord knew he burned to do it. But Darius wanted Vance alive to experience the kind of humiliation Kira had, and Gavin began to believe death was too easy for the villain.
He took a step back and regarded the viscount with all the hate that seethed in his heart.
“Your grace, how odd to see you here.” Vance looked coiled and ready to spring.
“Let them go,” Gavin ordered, nodding at the girl
s.
“I think not.”
The viscount spoke as casually as one discussing the weather, and it made Gavin grit his teeth.
“These are young girls, and your plans will destroy their lives.”
“These are unimportant chits. No one will miss them.”
Disgust curdled in his belly. “Their families will! How can you exploit their innocence to line your pocketbook? It’s hideous and—”
“Oh, such melodrama. You’ve always prided yourself on your upstanding behavior. Cropthorne the saint.” Vance rolled his eyes. “But I’ll wager even you have a hidden secret or two.”
Oh, yes. He had Kira, his cousin’s fiancée—the woman he had bedded twice and feared he would be unable to resist again should she give him the slightest encouragement. The woman was in his blood. She made him think wicked thoughts, ignore his own common sense.
The Daggett blood always shows, his father had been fond of saying. Gavin had refused to believe it existed until his desire for Kira proved not only that it was real, but was damn near inescapable.
“Whatever I may have done didn’t involve illegal trade or cruelly shattering a girl’s innocence,” Gavin replied.
The viscount brushed a lock of pale hair from his face, looking more amused than worried by Gavin’s interruption. “My, you seem to have me all figured out. I felt as if someone was watching me these past few days, but never discerned why. I assume that was you?”
“No, that was me.”
Both Gavin and Vance turned their attention to the far side of the altar. Darius stood in front of the empty window arch, blood trailing down his lip, a Wilkinson pistol drawn.
Vance looked annoyed. “You are…?”
“Darius Melbourne, Kira’s brother, and the man who hopes to see you hanged and humiliated.”
“My, aren’t we ambitious? I’m afraid I’m going to have to decline your gracious invitation. Barnes! Rafferty!”
“If you’re looking for the two thugs keeping watch,” said Darius, wiping the blood from the corner of his mouth, “we’ve already dealt with them. Now it’s just you and two men who want to see you pay for what you did to Kira.”
