If He's Dangerous

by Hannah Howell

  Olympia crossed her arms over her chest, and Argus was about to remind her that she was facing a duke, when the duke looked at her, all signs of that touch of humor gone. “Lady Olympia, if I could go to these men and settle this all by myself I would. I do not wish to put anyone else in danger. Since I have seen this lad use that knife and face that brute who tried to steal Darius, I know he has a soldier’s instincts and we could have need of the silence of his knife. I will not, however, order a woman into the field.”

  “But . . .”

  “I am the duke and I intend to pull rank on you. You stay here and keep the children safe. Between you and Max and the servants I believe you could hold off an army here.”

  Argus could see that Olympia really wished to argue, but she saw something in the man’s eyes that silenced her. She went and sat down, intending to listen to all their plans, however. Argus fleetingly wondered if he could learn that look. Unfortunately, he would never be able to play the duke with a duke’s power.

  “Now, who is the best at shooting something from a distance?” the duke asked again.

  “Iago actually,” replied Leopold. “And Bened”—he nodded at the big man—“is also very good. Nearly as good as Iago.”

  “Then we should be sure to supply them with rifles.”

  For a while the duke and Leopold discussed various approaches to the woodcutter’s cottage. Argus joined in now and then, but the duke was proving as good at strategy as Leopold. He finally poured himself a drink, sat down next to Iago, and watched the two men argue congenially over which was the best path to take to the cabin.

  “There is nothing you need to feel guilty about, you know,” Iago said and smiled at the scowl Argus sent him. “Her own father says so.”

  “That helps only a little. Cornick has taken Lorelei to get to me.”

  “Mayhap he took her because he thought you would do your best to rescue a duke’s daughter.”

  “No, I think he somehow found out that she meant something to me. What I do not understand is why he is still after me. I am no longer the only one who knows who he is, knows what he has done. Why is he not just getting himself out of the country?”

  “Because he has no money,” said the duke. “When you go to trade yourself for Lorelei, you are to carry ten thousand pounds with you. A pittance for my daughter’s life, but then this man, for all the spying he managed to do, appears to know very little about me.”

  “Ten thousand pounds?” Olympia shook her head. “Do you actually have that kind of money on hand?”

  “Oh, yes, as I need to pay everyone wages, buy supplies, and I had intended to give a generous gift to the new grandchild my eldest daughter just bore. I was thinking I could put some money on top of the bag we take to Cornick and something else beneath, but he will surely look for such a trick and that will only add to the danger.”

  “Money? This is all for money?”

  “I believe that was Cornick’s interest from the start. Although, as matters began to go wrong he may have gained a need to make Sir Argus pay for that.”

  Leopold nodded. “Chuffington undoubtedly offered him money to get Argus. Cornick knows that will be impossible to get now. He needs it, however, to get out of the country and hide.” He glanced at the duke. “And he obviously wants to do his hiding in some style.”

  “It could even have been no more than an afterthought,” said the duke. “Best we make our final plans. We can at least be certain to some degree that the man has no one watching us. He only has one man left and will want to keep him close to hand.”

  “Aye,” said Argus. “Cornick will know he will need someone to watch his back even if he manages to get out of this alive. He must know he will never be safe if he harms her.”

  “No, he will not be. And that is where he made his greatest mistake. He did not study me very carefully or he would know that there is not a place in this world where he can hide safely if he harms my daughter.”

  It was quietly spoken, only the faintest hint of anger behind the words, but Argus recognized avow when he heard one.

  Lorelei swallowed a moan as she slowly opened her eyes. Her attempt to escape while they were riding away from the village had earned her a vicious blow and she must have slipped into unconsciousness. Her head was pounding so hard she just wanted to curl up and cry. Her face was throbbing and she was sure it must look as colorful as Olympia’s had a few days ago.

  One look around was enough to tell her where she was. It was the cottage that belonged to Old James the woodcutter. She recognized the fireplace that was nearly as wide as the room itself and the aging deer-hide rug in front of it. She had not come to visit with her father for years, but she could still recall hearing her father teasing the older man about having a hanging offense on his floor. Even then she had known that Old James had not killed the animal, had just made good use of the dead animal he had found. If she remembered correctly, both her father and Old James had agreed that it had been some pack of dogs that had attacked the buck and, although it had escaped, its wounds had eventually killed it.

  She could, however, vividly recall sitting on the floor counting the bite marks still visible on the hide and crying a little over the pain the creature must have suffered. Old James, despite her father’s protest, had cut a piece off a branch of the animal’s antlers that decorated the wall above that massive fireplace. As he and her father had talked, Old James had made her a pendant of it using a strip of blackened leather, hanging it around her neck when she and her father were ready to leave. In his gruff country voice James had told her to always remember that animals suffer, too, that they knew both pain and fear, but always fight to get up again and go on, just as that wounded buck had. A hard lesson to teach a child, but she still had that crude pendant and every time she saw it lying there amongst her jewels, she recalled the lesson of fight, fall, get up, and go on.

  Tears stung her eyes, for she knew Old James would not be getting up and going on. Lorelei was certain these men had murdered the man—Old James would have told her father what was happening if he had gotten away. She wondered where his dog was. James had never been without a dog, always going to pick out the runt or ugly one of a litter when he needed a new dog. They must have killed the poor animal, too, she thought.

  “Ah, awake now are you?” said Cornick, moving to stand over her where they had obviously simply tossed her onto the floor. “Allow me to help you to a seat.”

  He grabbed her by the arm, yanked her to her feet, and dragged her over to a chair, shoving her down into it. Lorelei hid her wince over the pain flaring in her bound wrists when they hit the high back of the heavy wooden chair. “You killed James,” she said.

  “James? Oh, that old man who lived here.” Cornick nodded. “We needed his house and he did not appear amenable to sharing. He is out in the wood now. Your lover will soon join him.”

  Not even by the blink of an eye did Lorelei reveal her unease over the fact that Cornick knew about her and Argus, or had made a very astute guess. She prayed it was the latter. The mere thought that he or one of his brutes had seen her and Argus together made her want to vomit. For a moment she almost gave in to the urge as she eyed his boots but did not really wish to feel the weight of his fist again. She was conscious now and knew it was important that she remain so.

  “You believe that Sir Argus will just walk into your grasp, do you?” she asked and knew he had heard the scorn in her voice by the way his eyes narrowed in anger.

  “He will trade himself for you, and your loving father will finance my new life with his own money.”

  “Why should Sir Argus return to your unloving care? And just why do you want him if you are set to run off to a new life?”

  “Wherlocke ruined everything. We had a fine plan, but his stubborn refusal to give us what we wanted and then his escape were the beginning of my ruination. He will pay for that and your father will pay for helping him. But he did not help him as much as you did, hmmm?”

>   “I have no idea what you are referring to.” She winced when he grabbed hold of her long braid and pulled on it.

  “You are the one who got him out of that house. I saw you. Only a glimpse, but that was enough. Saw that fine arse of yours and this long braid glinting red in the moonlight.”

  “Mayhap the red was because you got some of Sir Argus’s blood in your eye the last time you beat him. Ah, but you did not beat him, did you? You sat and watched while your henchmen did all the work.” She bit back a cry of pain when he pulled on her braid so hard tears stung her eyes.

  “How did you know where he was? I am curious as to how I stepped wrong.”

  “He told me.”

  “Woman, I may have erred in how I played this game and how I secured my prisoner, but I am not an idiot.”

  She knew the look she gave him clearly expressed her doubt for his fist clenched. She braced herself for a blow, but it did not come. “He told me. He appeared in my father’s garden and told me of the trouble he was in. Do try to remember, sir, you are dealing with the Wherlockes and their kin.”

  “But, if he could get out to tell you that he was in trouble, why did he not just leave, run for home?”

  “He did not run, sir. He escaped. And his body was still held captive. He sent his spirit out to look for aid.”

  Cornick cursed and tossed her braid aside. “Do not be foolish. No one can do such a thing.”

  “I should not have thought so, but he did.” She shrugged, ignoring the tug of discomfort caused by having her hands bound behind her back for so long. “I suspect he puts himself into some sort of sleep and lets it go. This time it came to me. He told me he was your prisoner and asked me to send word to his family. I did send word but decided that he needed help immediately so I went looking for him myself. I am very good at finding things.”

  “So you sent word to his family, and that is why this place fairly crawls with Wherlockes and Vaughns.”

  Lorelei slowly shook her head, but even that added to the throbbing pain in it. Cornick obviously did not believe her. By the look in his eyes as she had told him her tale, he did not want to believe her. There was clearly a point where his fears and superstitions reared up their hoary little heads. She wondered if she could make use of that. Her father liked to say that, if a man allowed fear to control him, he became careless. A few tales about the Wherlockes should do it, and it might help the ones she knew were coming to rescue her. The Wherlockes did not like their secrets told, but she knew, whether she survived or not, these two men were doomed. Even if the miraculous happened and they escaped what was coming for them, her father, the Wherlockes, and the Vaughns would hunt them and put them down like the rabid dogs they were.

  “Yes. There is the Lady Olympia, the woman your man tried to drag off. She can go to a place, any place, and see what happened there, read the memory of the event and the people involved as if it was a book. Then, of course, there is the young boy your other man tried to steal. That is Darius and he can see what they call auras, the light and color that surrounds us all but most people cannot see. I suspect yours and Tucker’s would be a bit murky. Then there is Lord Sir Leopold and he can tell when a person is lying. You, sir, would probably exhaust him. Then there is the boy who put a knife in the back of your man Jones, a youth of sixteen who is a wondrous healer and, obviously, very skilled with a knife. It is even whispered that the head of that large family, the young Duke of Elderwood, can see right into a man’s heart and mind and take out any information he wants.”

  “Shut her up,” snarled Tucker.

  “If you are made so uneasy by the gifts the Wherlockes have, why were you so determined to steal one?” she asked.

  “It is no gift Wherlocke has, but a skill. Just a skill.”

  “You delude yourself, sir, or you did not take the time to study the man you imprisoned, study him and his family. They do their very best to hold fast to their secrets, as they have been forced to by the ignorance and fear of people, but there is a lot of information on them if one but looks for it. They have more gifts than you can possibly imagine and they will bring every one they have when they come after you for hurting Sir Argus. Now or later.”

  “You will be quiet now,” said Cornick, clenching and unclenching his fists as he glared at her. “The only ones coming here to try and save you are Wherlocke and your father. I will get that bastard, get that money, and leave.”

  Lorelei noticed that he did not say what would happen to her or her father. She suspected he thought he could just kill them and walk away. For a moment, she thought of explaining to the fool that neither her nor Argus’s family would ever allow Cornick to escape justice. Instinct told her that the man would never understand, never believe her. He probably thought some heir would actually be pleased to be rid of the man standing between him and the title, as was the case with others of her class, and would just let the scandal fade away along with the man who helped to make him a duke.

  “They should be here soon,” said Tucker. “Think they will really come unarmed?”

  “Of course they will,” said Cornick. “They are honorable gentlemen.”

  Lorelei did not think she had ever heard those words said so disparagingly.

  “That does not mean they will not have one tucked away on their persons somewhere though,” Cornick continued. “But we shall have ours primed, cocked, and ready. They will not be able to pull theirs out of whatever pocket they have stuck it before they are shot dead.”

  “Have you ever seen Sir Argus or my father draw a pistol?” she asked.

  “Woman, Tucker and I will already have our guns aimed at them. We can pull the trigger before they can even reach for their pistols. And I do not concern myself with the duke. Everyone knows he just stays here in the country with his books, breeding like a rabbit. He is no threat. Sir Argus may be, but he will still be at a grave disadvantage. You see, he will be bleeding on the ground before he can even get his finger on the trigger.”

  “So confident,” she murmured. “Mayhap they will just shoot you because they know you have no intention of honoring the deal you brokered.”

  “Not with you still in my grasp and standing in front of me.”

  There was really no arguing that, but Lorelei just shrugged, the hint of disdain in the gesture plainly irritating the man. And, despite how good her father was with a pistol, Cornick had some right to his arrogance. There would be that one step farther her father and Argus would have to go before they could shoot their pistols.

  “You have no intention of letting any of us walk away from this, do you?”

  “You think me no gentleman, that I cannot honor a deal made? They are bringing money and Sir Argus has agreed to take your place as my prisoner. Why should I change such a fine bargain?”

  “I have no idea. Actually, I do not believe you ever made the bargain. You just presented it. You sent my father the very demand he expected, knew he would accept, for what choice did he truly have, and never once had any intention of honoring it. Have you considered what will happen if you kill a duke of the realm?”

  “Oh, there will be a great scandal, I am certain.”

  That answered her question nicely, she thought, for he had just admitted to his plans to kill the two men coming to rescue her. Lorelei was certain her father and Argus would be aware of the treachery Cornick might try. Fear for her father and Argus was a hard knot in her stomach, but she refused to let Cornick think, for even a moment, that she doubted her father’s or Argus’s ability to escape or punish him. She would act as arrogant about his coming downfall as he did about his coming success and pray he was not the one who won that battle.

  Cornick took out his watch and looked at it, smiling faintly. “They should be here soon. I suspect a duke is a man who will be punctual. Soon I will be a rich man.”

  The glance Tucker sent Cornick’s way told Lorelei that there was a very good chance Cornick would not live to enjoy the money. Of course, there was a very good
chance that it would be Tucker who died, assuming either man survived the confrontation with her father. It was always said that there was no honor amongst thieves. That look Tucker had given his compatriot rather confirmed it.

  But, neither of them would have the chance to fight over the money, she told herself firmly. Lorelei refused to let her belief in that waver. Her father might be a very honorable man indeed, but he was far from stupid. He would not honor that agreement any more than Cornick planned to. He would come, he would bring the money and Argus, but she would wager he brought every Wherlocke and Vaughn as well, perhaps even a few of the men from Sundunmoor. Cornick was in for a surprise. Lorelei strongly hoped it was a fatal one.

  Chapter 17

  The stench of death seeped into the air as Argus and the duke moved silently through the wood toward the woodcutter’s cottage. For a moment he hesitated, knowing what was ahead, and not wanting to see it, but then he stiffened his backbone and went on. He grimaced when he found the body of what had once been a man. There had been no attempt to protect his corpse from the scavengers that had obviously found him.

  “Ah, damn me, poor Old James,” said the duke in a soft voice as he stepped up beside Argus. “The bastards could not even be bothered to protect him from the animals. Old James always feared dying in the woods he so loved and becoming no more than a meal for the carrion. I ought to shoot those men squatting in his cottage just for this alone.” He sighed. “I will miss our chess games.”

  Argus patted the duke on the back and then began moving again. He had not known James but could understand the grief and anger the duke suffered. He had felt its like before. This had been a useless, callous murder of an old man. Cornick and his men had wanted the cottage to hide in so they had killed an old man and thrown him aside like scraps from the table.