Signaling his men to move in closer, Denman said, “We were told you had been abducted. Are you all right?”
“I am fine,” she said.
Fixing his gaze upon Garrett, who was now standing at Addy’s right side, Ransford raised his weapon for attack. “He fits the description of the man who seized you from the tailor’s shop.”
A disgusted snort broke from Garrett. “As you well know, I have a name.”
“I do recognize you,” Denman said. “Garrett, I believe. You were once my squire.”
“Aye.” Garrett’s hand flexed on the hilt of his sword.
“After all the kindness I showed you, you dared to kidnap the woman I love?”
“There is no need to maintain the ruse,” Addy said coolly. “He told me the truth of the kidnapping.”
“What truth?” The older lord appeared bewildered.
“You hired him to abduct me and hold me captive.”
Murmurs rippled through the armed men standing behind Ransford. His lordship scowled. “Ridiculous! I did not—”
“You did,” Garrett snarled.
Corwin peeked out from behind Garrett. “Aye, you did. I heard everything at the meeting when—”
“Shut up.” Ransford’s expression had turned menacing.
“Do not speak to Corwin that way,” Garrett shot back.
“A man of my position can speak however he bloody well likes.”
“Denman,” she said, “Please—”
“Garrett and his whelp have obviously seduced you with their falsehoods.” His mouth curving into a mirthless smile, Denman beckoned to her. “Adaline, come. You will be safe with me.”
“I am not going with you, Denman. Not after what I have learned about you.”
Wariness touched the older lord’s expression before his features hardened with scorn. “Think about what he told you, Adaline. Why would I want to have you abducted? It makes no sense, when we will be wed in a few days.”
Repugnance rose within her. “We will absolutely not be wed.”
Denman’s face reddened with fury. “What?”
“I will not wed you,” she said firmly. “Not even by the king’s order—”
“By God!”
“—because I have sworn my heart to Garrett.”
***
His grip strong and sure on his sword, Garrett refused to look away from Ransford. One mistake, and his lordship and Stockton would be upon him to cut him down.
Apprehension ran like shards of ice in Garrett’s blood, for he vowed to fight as hard as he could, as well as he could, to protect Addy and Corwin. Their lives were in as much peril as his own, for they knew too much about Ransford’s activities. Garrett was, however, outnumbered.
As the familiar cry to battle flowed in his veins, he vowed to live long enough to get Corwin and Addy to the cave entrance, where they had a chance of escaping.
If he was to die this day, he’d perish knowing he’d done his utmost to save the damsel and child he loved.
“Whatever this criminal has convinced you to do, you cannot pledge yourself to him. You and I are betrothed.” Ransford spoke as if he were grinding stones with his teeth, a sign he was barely holding his temper in check. A shudder crawled down Garrett’s spine, for he’d seen Ransford’s wrath, and ’twas truly terrifying.
“After what Garrett told me, I could never marry you.”
“He has deceived you—”
“I know you have stolen goods from ships wrecked off this coast. You then sold those goods to corrupt merchants.”
Denman hissed a breath and moved closer. Garrett tensed for the instant he must engage in battle.
“If I have done such things, where is the proof?” his lordship asked.
Addy frowned. “Well….”
“Has Garrett shown you any proof?” Before she could answer, Ransford said: “Where are the goods I have supposedly taken? The men who must have helped me? What are the names of the merchants who purchased the salvaged goods?”
Garrett scowled. Ransford was not going to succeed in undermining Addy’s trust in him.
“There must have been survivors from the wrecks,” Ransford pressed. “If I was involved in such activities, why has no one spoken out against me?”
You murderous swine! “There were no survivors,” Garrett said, drawing Ransford’s unflinching gaze. “You killed all of the witnesses, including children.”
“Did I really? And your proof—?”
“I witnessed the atrocities firsthand.”
“No one dared to speak out against you, because the sheriff protected you. In return, he received payouts,” Addy added.
Behind Ransford, Stockton scowled.
“You lying bastard,” the older lord sneered at Garrett.
“Not a bastard. Not a liar.”
“Regardless, ’tis your word against mine.” Ransford’s mouth twisted into a merciless grin. “No one is going to believe you. After all, you are a dead man.”
“He will find the proof,” Addy said. “I will help him—”
His lordship lunged. His sword slashed toward Garrett’s stomach.
Addy shrieked.
Corwin yelped and bolted for the back of the cave.
The men-at-arms crowded in, as with a loud clang, Garrett blocked Ransford’s attack.
“Garrett,” Addy cried. He hated to hear her in such torment, but he didn’t dare glance away from Ransford. His teeth bared, the older lord lashed out again and again. Garrett darted back, deflecting the blows, but he’d soon hit the cavern wall.
A man-at-arms joined Ransford. Swords flashed. Crashed. Shrieked as metal scraped against metal. Garrett winced as one of the blades grazed his left arm, cutting through his clothing to flesh. Blood trickled down his skin.
He didn’t dare see how badly he was wounded. For Addy and Corwin, he must stay focused. For them, he’d fight until his last breath, as Kael had done for the woman he’d loved.
Seizing the barest opening, Garrett deflected Ransford’s next blow and darted sideways, toward the middle of the cave.
Shrieks close by made him snatch a quick glance. Addy was struggling to break free from Stockton and another man-at-arms, who’d pinned her arms. Hearing the warning hiss of an arcing sword, Garrett darted aside, barely saving himself from a deadly injury.
He couldn’t see Corwin. Oh, God, where was the boy?
“Corwin,” he yelled.
Before the name had fully left his lips, he braced for Ransford and his lackey readying to strike together. His gut knotted as he anticipated the swords’ descent, strategized how to block—
A clump of wet sand flew from behind him; it hit his lordship in the face. He staggered and scrubbed at his eyes, his weapon listing downward.
More sand flew. The man-at-arms cursed as he, too, was momentarily blinded.
Garrett glanced over his shoulder. Corwin was hurling sand as fast as he could. Garrett nodded his thanks.
When the man-at-arms stumbled blindly forward, Garrett hooked his right leg behind the lout’s. With a startled curse, the man-at-arms fell, arms flailing. With a couple of swift kicks, Garret rendered him senseless.
Garrett spun to find Ransford near Addy, who was kicking and struggling while being pulled toward the cave entrance.
At his lordship’s order, the man-at-arms released his grip on her. Sword raised, the lout headed straight for Garrett.
Corwin had been wise to use the sand. Garrett stooped, snatched up a handful, and tossed it. The man-at-arms ducked, but the grainy mass hit his shoulder and sprayed into his face. As he bellowed and rubbed at his eyes, Garrett barreled into him. The lout clawed at Garret and tried to cut him with his blade, but with a sound wallop, Garrett stunned his opponent enough to kick away the sword. Another well-aimed punch, and the man collapsed.
Breathing hard, sweat streaming down his face, Garrett spun. His bleeding arm throbbed, but he ignored the discomfort. He had to rescue Addy.
She was
still trying to break free of Stockton. Garrett’s fury spiked, for he loathed seeing her trapped and frightened.
A sudden warning seared through him, just as he heard the sounds of a struggle. He spun to see Ransford with his arm locked around Corwin’s neck, his sword touching the boy’s belly.
“Garrett!” Corwin’s eyes were round with terror.
“Surrender,” Ransford sneered, “or I will run him through.”
He would. Garrett’s mind reeled with images of the boy on the sand: the helpless child Ransford had murdered. Sickening panic spread through Garrett. He had to save Corwin. But, he also had to save Addy.
How did he save them both?
Through the ghastly buzzing noise in his mind, Garrett heard riders approaching the cave at a gallop. Hellfire. The last thing he needed was more of Ransford’s men joining the fight.
“I will ask you but one more time, Garrett,” his lordship said. “Yield, or the boy dies.”
Chapter Twelve
Struggling against Stockton’s bruising grip, Addy heard the standoff between Garrett and Ransford. Poor Corwin, held in a chokehold, looked about to faint.
How dare Denman threaten a child’s life? Such cruelty proved he was a ruthless monster, as her instincts had been telling her all along. She vowed to make sure he never had the opportunity to threaten anyone ever again.
First, though, she had to break free from the thug restraining her.
A frustrated cry broke from her as she clawed at Stockton’s arm, as thick as a tree branch, locked around her waist. He was wretchedly strong. Desperation surged, and she kicked harder, wrenched sideways, tried to catch him off balance—
She was vaguely aware of horses halting in a spray of sand.
“Hold, all of you,” a man bellowed.
Stockton froze, and so did Addy. She knew that voice.
“Father!” She glanced at the cave entrance, to see her sire stride in. He wore chain mail armor beneath his cloak, as did his six armed guards, who had drawn weapons.
Garrett, blood staining the sleeve of his tunic, stood in profile near Ransford, who was still holding Corwin captive. Her stomach churned to see Garrett was injured; once the confrontation was over, she’d tend to the wound so it would quickly heal. She also hoped the boy would never have to face fear again; he’d already suffered too much for one so young.
Her sire’s gaze returned to Stockton, who still had his arm around her. “Unhand my daughter.”
After a grudging glance at Denman, who nodded, Stockton obeyed. She hurried to her father and hugged him.
“Thank God we found you.” He kissed her cheek and then held her at arm’s length. “What happened to you? Why are you in this cave?”
“’Tis a long story,” she answered, “but—”
“Milord, ’tis good you are here,” Denman cut in. Tipping his head toward Garrett, he said, “This man kidnapped Adaline.”
Her sire started to signal his men.
Addy stayed him with a hand on his arm. “Do not believe Denman. He arranged my abduction. ’Twas all a ruse.”
“A ruse?” Her father shook his head. “I cannot believe—”
“’Tis true.” She motioned to Garrett. “He can tell you more than I.”
Her sire’s features hardened as his focus shifted to Garrett, who slowly turned and bent at the waist in a respectful bow. Love glowed like hot, bright flame within her as he straightened, for she was going to make sure she and Garret were never apart again.
“I will be glad to tell you all I know, milord,” Garrett said. “I ask only that Corwin be released from the threat of harm.”
Her father’s attention shifted to the boy, and he frowned. “Denman, why are you pointing your sword at that child?”
“He was throwing sand.”
“That does not warrant threatening his life.” Addy met her betrothed’s gaze in a silent warning that he had best release the boy.
“Indeed, it does not,” her sire agreed.
Glowering, his lordship reluctantly released Corwin. The lad sobbed, ran to Garrett, and threw his arms around his waist.
Relief softening his features, Garrett shifted his sword to his left hand and put his arm around Corwin’s shoulders. Garrett didn’t take his gaze from Ransford, though, and Addy sensed that if the older lord dared to attack, Garrett would be ready in an instant to do battle.
“And you are?” her father asked him.
“Garrett Thurlow, milord.”
“The name is familiar.”
“I was honored to be your squire years ago,” Garrett said, “if only for a short while.”
Addy moved to stand next to Garrett and Corwin in a silent show of support.
“I was told you were killed in France,” her sire said.
“’Twas a falsehood that at first served me well. However, the past few days have made me realize I no longer want to maintain that deception.”
“Indeed?”
“Aye, milord.” Garrett squared his shoulders, and Addy caught her breath, for she’d never seen him look more determined or more handsome. “After years of running from my past, I am ready to answer for all that I have done.”
“You speak as though you have committed grave crimes,” her sire said.
“I have. Among them, I abducted Addy.”
***
His heart pounding against his ribs, Garrett waited for Lord Mortimer to respond.
While Garrett experienced shame at his confession, he was also relieved. A crushing weight had been lifted from his soul. After long years, his secrets were finally going to be unburdened. He didn’t expect forgiveness, but at least he might see justice done.
Lord Mortimer’s gaze bored into him. “You are responsible for abducting my daughter?”
“I am.”
“Garrett was forced to kidnap me,” Addy said, so beautiful in her poise and resolve. “Denman left him no choice.”
Ransford, his sword still unsheathed, shook his head. “Lies. All lies.”
Obviously unsure who to believe, Lord Mortimer asked, “Garrett, how do you know Ransford?”
“I once served as his squire. I became indebted to him, and by doing so…felt obliged to do his bidding.”
“That included abducting a lady.”
Guilt gnawed, but Garrett wouldn’t shift blame to anyone else. He wanted to be worthy of Addy; therefore, he must accept responsibility for what he’d done. He nodded.
“You must arrest Denman, Father.”
“I am still not clear on exactly what happened, or why—if Garrett’s claims are true—Ransford would have you kidnapped.”
“They are not true,” his lordship insisted, while his gaze shifted to Stockton and the guards at the cavern entrance. “Garrett is trying to taint my good name. Surely you will not accept his word over mine.”
“Garrett and I will explain all,” Addy said. “For now, Denman must be locked in a dungeon cell until he can be sent to London to be tried and punished.”
“A dungeon?” Ransford’s face tautened with fury. “How dare you suggest such a thing?” Straightening his rumpled garments, he strode for the cave entrance.
Garrett moved to stop him, but Lord Mortimer shook his head. “I cannot simply arrest a peer. I must have proof.”
Determination glowed within Garrett. He wouldn’t allow Ransford to go unpunished. He must act for those who’d been murdered, or who were too fearful to report his lordship’s treachery. “I will get you proof. To start, I will write down all that I witnessed.”
Corwin sniffled then dried his face with his sleeve. “I can tell what I saw and heard.”
“We also have a letter,” Addy said, “written by someone who copied Garrett’s handwriting. ’Twas hidden at the abandoned castle where I was held captive.” Glancing at Ransford, she added, “The missive was to be discovered at a timely moment and presented to authorities to place all blame for the kidnapping on Garrett.”
“Since the sheriff worke
d with Ransford years ago, and likely is still conspiring with him, we might see what we can do to persuade him to talk,” Garrett said.
Lord Mortimer nodded. “Very well. Men, detain his lordship—”
Stockton lunged at the guards. His blade struck again and again.
Ransford, also lashing out with his sword, hurried to the horses.
“He cannot get away!” Addy cried, but Garrett was already in pursuit. As Ransford shoved his booted foot into a stirrup to swing up onto the mount, Garrett yanked him backward. With a grunt, his lordship landed on his back on the sand.
Drawing his arm back, Garrett slammed his fist into the older lord’s jaw. “For Addy,” he growled. Ransford struggled, but Garrett, giving full rein to his rage, walloped him again. “For Corwin.” The older lord’s body went limp.
As Garrett shook out his fist and stood, he saw Stockton sprawled on the sand. Blood soaking the front of his tunic, the dead thug stared skyward.
Lord Mortimer drew near with several guards. “Ransford is not dead, I trust.”
“Only unconscious, milord.”
“Good, because he will answer for his crimes.”
Addy smiled at Garrett. “He certainly will.”
Garrett’s heart warmed, for he loved the hope brightening Addy’s expression. How he wished he could make her happy every day for the rest of his life.
“Ransford and his lackeys will be taken to my dungeon,” Lord Mortimer said, before his gaze met Garrett’s. “Until I know exactly how you were involved in recent events, and what you did to my daughter, you also will be my prisoner.”
Chapter Thirteen
“Give me another word to spell out loud.”
Seated against the dungeon’s mildewed wall, Garrett glanced at Corwin. The lad was sitting cross-legged against the opposite wall, close to the iron bars fronting the cell. Light from reed torches in the below-ground prison’s main room kept away only some of the dank shadows.
“I can give you another word,” Garrett said, “but I do not understand why you will not accept Addy’s offer. You could be enjoying the day with her rather than in this cell with me.”
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