by Ava Stone
The servant cringed slightly as he said, “The papers are filled with lies.”
Often, Luke agreed. But still… “What are you trying to say?”
“His lordship has not been with Laura Hale all this time. He’s been—” he cringed again “—with Lady Staveley. In Yorkshire.” Then he shook his head. “If he knew I was telling you this, I’m sure he’d sack me, but—”
“Then why are you telling me this?” Luke shook his head. Marc was with Caroline in Yorkshire? That didn’t make any sense at all. He’d received a letter from his sister and she didn’t mention anything of the like.
“If he doesn’t make it. If it’s possible for her to arrive before he dies…”
Luke’s heart twisted. Had Caroline really been with Marc this whole time? She never got to say goodbye to Staveley. What if she never got to say goodbye to Marc? Still… “It’s not possible to get to and from Yorkshire in time.”
“It is via the mail coach,” the footman said. “Or it could be. That’s what his lordship does, anyway.”
Was it really? Luke glanced back toward Marc’s chambers. He’d known him since Eton. But did he really know him at all? Why would he make it seem like he’d gone to Bath with some actress when he was holed up in Yorkshire with Caroline and… “My nieces are there too?”
“Aye, sir.”
A snort escaped Luke. “Yes, well, then I think we should send for them. In fact, I’ll go myself. Saddleworth Hall?” he guessed aloud. He’d been there once with Marc many years ago.
“Aye, sir.”
Caroline had just finished going over the weekly menu with Mrs. Dawson, and left the parlor, headed for her chambers. It was early in the day, but she was rather tired and a nap might be just the—
“—then bloody well shoot me!” bellowed a familiar voice from outside the front door, followed by quite a commotion. “But I’m going in there.”
What in the world? Caroline instinctively started toward the door, but the butler stood in her path. “Don’t worry, milady, we’ll get rid of the fellow.”
And while that might be welcome any other time, that voice was familiar. “That sounds like my brother, Robson.”
The butler’s eyes rounded in surprise. “Indeed?”
Caroline brushed passed him, tugged on the door and—
There on the front path was Luke, about to be dragged back down the lane, kicking and screaming all the way.
What in the world? “Luke?” she called, halting the gardeners who seemed intent on discarding her brother.
“Do you know him, milady?” one of the fellows asked.
Luke yanked free of the two men and scowled at them. “I’m her brother. Just like I told you I was.”
Heavens! What in the world was he doing here?
“Yes, he’s my brother,” she assured them. “Please, don’t harm him.”
Luke straightened his jacket and dusted his hands on his trousers, then he frowned at Caroline as he started toward her. “When that footman told me you were here, I didn’t believe him. And then a note came from Prestwick Chase that Haversham had shown up unannounced in Derbyshire with a letter from you, demanding to see Staveley’s belongings. And—” Luke scoffed “—you really are here.”
She hadn’t anticipated having this conversation today, and certainly not with her brother. “It’s a long story.”
“Oh, I’m sure it is.” Luke shook his head. “If I hadn’t come with a purpose, I would be quite put out with you.”
She couldn’t really blame him. She had lied in that letter she’d sent him a number of weeks ago. “I’m sorry. I—”
“Whatever it is, you can tell me on the way back to London. Gather whatever you need, we need to leave right away.”
The last thing in the world Caroline was going to do was leave Saddleworth Hall. Not for Luke, not for anyone. “I’m not going anywhere.” At least not until Marc returned and then she’d go wherever he went. But she wasn’t leaving until then.
And then her brother’s frown transformed to a sad smile, the very same one, in fact, that he’d worn when he’d found her in London last season to tell her that David had been killed.
“Oh dear God.” It couldn’t be. It couldn’t. “No, no, no.” She shook her head and stepped away from her brother as though distance could keep him from confirming her worst fears. How did Luke even know to find her here unless Marc… “No, no, no!” she continued, as despair washed back over her. “Tell me he’s all right, Luke. Tell me right now.”
“I wish I could, sweetheart.” He started for her once more.
Oh, God. She was going to be sick! That was the last thought that entered her mind before she collapsed onto the ground and the world turned dark.
Something cool pressed against her brow and Caroline’s eyes fluttered open. Rachel leaned over her, frowning as she moved a wet cloth from Caroline’s skin.
“Are you all right?” her daughter asked from the bed beside her.
Was she? Caroline wasn’t sure. She…wait, how did she end up in bed? She’d been going to take a nap. She remembered that. And then…
Heavens! Everything else came rushing back all at once “Is Uncle Luke here?” she breathed out. Or had that been just an awful dream?
“I’m here,” Luke said from the far side of the room.
Oh, God. If he was here, then the rest of it was true. Caroline’s hand trembled as she lifted it to her lips. “Marc,” she said, her heart twisting in her chest. “What happened to Marc?”
“Don’t worry about that right now,” Luke said, stepping closer to the bed so she could see him, and the lines of worry that stretched across his brow made Caroline’s stomach roil.
Dear God, she couldn’t go through this again. David’s death had nearly killed her, and Marc…she loved him with every breath in her body, every ounce of her soul. She’d never survive it if something had happened to him. “That’s like telling a fish not to breathe water,” she rasped out. “I will worry whether you tell me or not, but I’d rather know the truth, Luke.”
He dropped into a chair by her bed and leaned forward, grasping her hand in his. “How did you end up here, sweetheart? I thought you were at Benton Park.”
So much had happened since she’d seen him last, that night so long ago at Vauxhall. “It all happened so fast, Luke. Someone broke into Staveley House, at least twice, and the second time Marc was there, and…Well, it seemed a good idea at the time.” And it had been a good idea. The weeks that all of them had spent together at Saddleworth had been nothing short of wonderful, some of the best of her life.
A sad smile settled on his lips. “Emma very gleefully told me about the excitement of riding in a mail coach.”
“There’s nothing exciting about it,” Rachel muttered.
Luke agreed with a nod of his head. “Having just experienced that myself, my dear, I share your sentiments.” And then he refocused his attention on Caroline. “I meant to return you to London, but in your condition…”
“I simply fainted,” Caroline began.
“That’s not the condition I mean, sweetheart.” Luke looked at her with a mix of condescension and love, a look that only an older brother can bestow upon his younger sister when he knows all her secrets.
But how could he possibly know her secrets? And how could he possibly make any sort of reference to her expectant condition? There was only one person in the world she’d told that truth to. “Did Marc tell you?”
Luke’s gaze flickered to Rachel, still on the bed beside Caroline. So she turned her attention on her daughter as well.
“I’m not an idiot,” Rachel said, suddenly unable to meet Caroline’s eyes. “And I remember what you were like when you were expecting Emma.”
Blast it! Caroline’s face stung from embarrassment. What must her daughter think of her? “He was to return with a Special License,” she muttered softly as though that excused her actions since becoming involved with Marc.
Luke snorted.
“If he lives, I can promise you he’ll have one.”
If he lives. “Luke, what happened to him? Where is he?”
Her brother frowned in response, but then he finally said, “He’s been stabbed, Caroline. In the middle of the night, right in the middle of Upper Grosvenor.”
Stabbed? Like David had been? Caroline’s fingers fluttered to her lips once more. “Oh, dear God.” How could that possibly happen again? Who would do such a thing?
Luke nodded in apparent agreement with that sentiment. “Luckily, Blackaby was there. Shot the fellow as he was about to flee.”
So if Blackaby was there, he had to have seen to Marc’s care right away.
“He hasn’t woken up,” Luke continued. “At least not before I left. I thought you’d want to be by his side in case…”
In case he didn’t make it? A sob lodged in Caroline’s throat. But he had to make it. He had to. She loved him so much. She couldn’t lose him too. And she had to see him, sit by his bedside, will him to live. “Yes,” Caroline said and pushed up on her elbows, ready to run all the way to London on her own two feet if that was the only way. “I’m sure Robson knows the mail coach schedule from Driffield. We’ll—”
Luke scoffed. “I am not taking you, in your present condition, in a mail coach. So just take that thought out of your mind.”
“But it’s faster,” she said. And time was of the essence.
“If he lives, I won’t have it be so he can kill me, Caroline. We will travel like civilized people in a proper coach. And we’ll stop as often as you require. And that is the end of it.”
As often as she required? Then they wouldn’t stop at all. She had to get to Marc just as quickly as possible. What if he—
No, she wouldn’t even entertain that thought, and she shook her head as though to shake the awful images that were beginning to seep in around the corners of her mind.
Caroline tipped her head toward Rachel’s and said, “Will you find Callie for me?” Marc’s daughter did have a right to know what had happened to her father. “And ask someone to pack a few things for each of you girls?”
“Callie too?” Rachel asked in surprise.
“He’s her father.”
Rachel slid from the bed. “She’s afraid of her own shadow. She won’t want to go.”
Well, that was entirely up to Callie. Caroline wouldn’t make such a decision for the girl. If she wanted to head to London to see her father, Caroline would help her get there. She might be the only other person in the world who loved Marc as much as Caroline did. “Ask her to see me, please?”
“Yes, Mama.” Rachel quickly quit the room.
As soon as she was gone, Caroline pinned Luke with a look. “He was stabbed? Was it that Covent Guard?” It had to be. Who else went around stabbing people in London? And Marc had beat the man to within an inch of his life.
But her brother blinked at her like she was mad. “I don’t think so. Some fellow I’ve never heard of. St. John or George or something like that. I suppose he could be the Covent Guard, but no one referred to him as such.”
St. George. The fellow from Vauxhall. The one Marc had feared as soon as he’d seen him. He really did have enemies, even these many years later. That was a lowering thought.
“The Home Office, apparently, swooped down and snatched the man up,” Luke continued. “Even Blackaby doesn’t know what they’ve done with him.”
If there was any justice in the world, they’d killed him if Blackaby’s bullet had failed to do so.
But she shook that awful thought from her mind too. St. George, Blackaby, the Home Office. None of it mattered to her. Only Marc. “I can’t lose him, Luke,” she said softly.
He squeezed her hand. “Whatever happens, Juliet and I are always here for you. For all of you.”
“I know that.” And while her brother’s support did bring some comfort to her, the only thing she really needed was for Marc to recover. “I love him with all my heart.”
“No one would ever—”
A soft knock on the door halted whatever else her brother meant to say.
Callie, it must be. “Come in,” Caroline called.
And then the door pushed open and Callie’s dark head poked inside Caroline’s chamber. “Rachel said you wanted to see me?”
Heavens. Caroline had no idea how to explain all of this to the poor girl who really was frightened of nearly everything. “Callie darling, come here. Something has happened.”
“What is it, my lady?” Callie asked, her soft voice was no louder than a whisper as she crossed the room to stand right at Caroline’s bedside.
A staggered breath escaped Caroline. “I’m afraid your father has suffered…an accident. We are headed to London to be by his side.”
“An accident?” Callie echoed, her light eyes, so much like Marc’s, rounded in fear.
“Would you like to come with us to see him, if we’re able?”
The girl looked like she might be ill and Caroline felt exactly the same way. “Papa said it’s too dangerous for me to leave Saddleworth.” And she swiped at a tear that started to trail down her cheek with her hand.
Oh, Caroline hoped that wasn’t really true; she prayed that was just Marc’s overprotective nature and not some premonition that had yet to occur. “You don’t have to come if you’d rather stay here. But I am going to him. I have to be by his side.”
“And Emma and Rachel?” Callie asked.
Caroline nodded. “Yes, Emma and Rachel are coming too.” She gestured to Luke and added, “And my brother will be with us along the way, Mr. Beckford.”
Callie blinked at Luke. “You came here once. I remember. You’re a friend of Papa’s.”
“For most of my life.” Luke agreed with a nod. “I’m surprised you remember me, Lady Callista. You were so little at the time.”
Caroline glanced at her brother and frowned. “You were at Saddleworth before?” Marc was so secretive about the place. It was surprising to think that Luke had been invited sometime in the past.
A slightly sheepish expression settled on his face. “During an unfortunate time in my life after I’d found the most perfect girl in the world but decided to run from her instead of holding onto her.”
Caroline had no idea. Well, she’d known Luke had run from Juliet. That foolishness had caused all sorts of carnage in its wake, but she hadn’t known he’d come here with Marc. Neither of them had ever said a word about that. What other things had been kept from her?
“We get so few visitors here,” Callie said. “And you were very sad. I remember that.”
“What a very good memory you have,” Luke said. “It is very nice to make your acquaintance again, Lady Callista. I’m sorry it is under these circumstances.”
Callie nodded in agreement, then focused once more on Caroline. “You’re leaving today?”
“Just as soon as a few things have been packed for the journey.”
“Papa said you’ll always keep me safe, my lady.”
Had he? Marc was the one who’d been keeping Caroline and her daughters safe. Did he have such faith in her abilities to do the same for his child? Caroline’s heart nearly broke at hearing those words, but they emboldened her a bit as well. “I will, Callie. Just like if you were my own daughter,” she vowed.
The little girl nodded once more, her hair, dark as night, bobbed slightly against her shoulders. “Then I would like to come. I would like to see him.”
Chapter 29
Three days in an old Haversham coach that wasn’t well sprung. Caroline would have been sick to her stomach even if she wasn’t with child. From the window, the familiar sights of London came into view. Almost there, thank God.
Callie lifted her head from Caroline’s shoulder to watch the approaching city, while Emma explained everything on the horizon in great detail.
From the opposite bench, Luke sighed. “You should rest before—” he began.
“It’s taken three days, Luke. I’m not waiting
a moment more.” Who knew what had happened to Marc while they were on the road to London? Had he woken up? Was he on the mend? Or had the fever taken him? That last thought turned Caroline’s stomach once more.
“He would want you to take care of yourself,” her brother repeated the same words he’d said all along their journey, and Caroline was quite tired of hearing them.
“Then he can get out of his sickbed and make me do so,” she replied more tartly than she meant to, but she was tired and she did ache and she didn’t feel like herself at all.
“I’m trying to help you,” Luke said evenly. “I don’t know what we’ll find once we get there, sweetheart. Let me discover that before you race headfirst into his chambers and—”
“I know you’re trying to help me,” Caroline said. “And I love you for it. But is there anything in the world that would keep you from racing to Juliet’s side if this was her?”
He winced slightly but didn’t contradict her words. And how could he dispute something that was so obviously true?
“Of course there isn’t,” she continued. “If you want to be helpful, head to Lambeth Palace for me, Luke. I am in desperate need of a Special License.”
He agreed with a nod of his head. “Of course, sweetheart. I was already planning on it.”
It was stiflingly hot. Breathing was difficult. And Marc’s back ached as though someone had driven a hot fire iron right into him. He hadn’t felt so miserable since that sabre he’d taken to his side in Dublin.
He groaned. He couldn’t help it.
“Papa?”
Callie? Where was he? At Saddleworth? The air didn’t smell like Yorkshire. It smelled like London.
And then someone squeezed his hand. “Marc, please come back to me.”
Caroline. Her voice floated around him like the softest caress. He hadn’t left her, had he? Why would he leave her? He loved her more than life.
