My Dangerous Duke

by Gaelen Foley

  Before leaving the castle, he had warned her that O’Banyon and possibly more of his henchmen might still be lurking around her house, which was why the four guards had joined them. Presently, two of the men rode ahead of them, and two behind.

  Parker and Wilkins, her usual guards, were to get Kate out of there and to speed her off to safety if, indeed, they encountered her kidnappers; Rohan, meanwhile, planned to stay and fight if it came to it.

  That was the plan, anyway. She didn’t think it likely, but she had long since realized that her friend the duke, somewhat gloomily, was a man who liked to plot out exactly how he’d respond if the worst possible outcome in any given situation were to occur.

  Just in case he was right, she had donned her borrowed footman’s livery. It was not only warmer and more convenient, allowing her to ride astride for their three-hour journey. It would also help to disguise her identity in case the shiftless O’Banyon really had made himself comfortable at her cottage.

  Appalling thought. It infuriated her too much to dwell on it. She had to believe the much-more-likely scenario, that she would find her home much as she had left it. She couldn’t wait to get there. Not even Rohan’s dark and distant attitude could quell the anticipation bubbling up in her with every yard of ground the horses covered.

  After all that she had been through, she was desperate to be surrounded once more by all the familiar sights and sounds and smells of home. Practically speaking, as well, the brief visit home would give her the chance to collect some of her own clothes, so she could finally quit wearing those too-tight, stolen gowns from the traveling trunk.

  She wondered what Rohan would think of her humble home when they arrived. To be sure, she had never thought she would entertain a duke there. But although His Grace was used to grandeur, there was nothing pretentious about him, she mused, slanting him another sideways glance.

  He caught her eye. “Everything all right?” he clipped out absently.

  Far be it from her to complain. “Of course.”

  “Ground seem familiar to you yet?”

  “Not really.”

  He nodded warily. “Think I’ll go have a look over that rise.” He clucked to his horse and cantered ahead to scout out the territory over the next rolling ridge.

  Kate watched him speed away with a pang of vexation. Truly, it had seemed easier for him when he had assumed her to be some drunk, degraded whore from the smugglers’ village. She shook her head. Well, this would all be over soon, then he’d be rid of her.

  Almost home, she assured herself as they pressed on toward Dartmoor. But in spite of herself, she couldn’t help wondering if her cottage would still feel like home once the Beast was no longer in her life.

  Another hour passed.

  When they finally arrived at the edge of the heath and spotted her home a few hundred yards away, Rohan was astonished by its desolate location.

  Perhaps Gerald Fox knew what he was doing, he thought, for this remote outpost looked like just the sort of place that Rohan also would have chosen as a safe house, if he had been charged with hiding some high-value target.

  The cottage sat atop a gentle rise in a clearing ringed by tall pines painted with snow. He saw no tracks or footprints in the layer of virgin snow everywhere, but he felt a familiar eerie prickle on his nape, a sixth sense that usually alerted him when something was wrong.

  He’d know more soon, once he got inside her house and had a careful look around. First, he had to make sure that nobody else was already there.

  With a lifted fist, he signaled to his men to halt.

  They gathered near the stand of trees, where he gave them their orders in hushed tones. “Findlay, Mercer, you’re with me. Parker, Wilkins, stay with Kate. We’ll sweep the perimeter and call for you once it’s clear. If there’s trouble, take evasive action while we hold them off. Get her out of here. If we’re separated, take her back to the castle, and we’ll see you there. Otherwise, if it’s quiet, we shall be back shortly.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “It looks fine to me,” Kate murmured, anxiously scanning her property.

  Rohan paused to study her. The moment of truth was at hand. If this was an ambush, they were about to find out. “Anything you want to tell me before we go?”

  She furrowed her brow. “Like what?”

  “Never mind. Stay silent,” he warned her. “And don’t worry,” he added, begrudgingly giving her the benefit of the doubt, just in case. “You’ll be safe with these two. Follow their instructions, and all will be well.”

  Kate nodded. “I will.”

  “Good.” He nodded to Findlay and Mercer as he drew his pistol and cocked it, then took out his knife. “Let’s go.”

  He could feel her watching him as he walked away.

  A few early stars winked to life in the winter’s early twilight as he and his men approached her house. He could see its simple outline through the trees, a blacker shade against the pearlescent snow and the gray midafternoon.

  Silent as shadows, they advanced, keeping abreast of each other as they pressed on in their sweep of the premises.

  Constantly scanning the area, peering into every pool of shadow amid the trees, Rohan soon concluded they were alone.

  No enemies, no ambush.

  Kate had been telling the truth. The place was quiet, her small house as still as a tomb. No voices could be heard. No light shone through branches. And as they slowly crossed the clearing, it became evident why.

  All three men stopped. Findlay and Mercer glanced uneasily at Rohan. But he stared straight ahead with a sinking feeling in his chest.

  There was nothing to threaten them here. The damage was already done. Now he had to go back and tell her . . .

  Her cottage had been put to the torch.

  All that remained was a charred, empty shell, like a shipwreck’s hull broken open on the rocks. The gutted ruin slumbered under a thick white coating of Devon snow. He cursed in a whisper and slid his knife back into the sheath at his waist.

  In that moment, he hated himself for doubting her. He could no longer believe that she was anything but innocent. The realization finally sank in that she had been telling the truth from the start. She was completely innocent.

  And now she had nowhere to live.

  His mind churned with self-directed rage as he thought of sweet little Kate that first night in the great hall. Drugged. Terrified. Ripped from her home.

  Given to him as a gift.

  And what had he done? Why, the soul of gallantry, he had put the girl under surveillance.

  Beast.

  “What do you think happened, sir?” Mercer asked, staring at the wreckage of a young woman’s life.

  “Hard to say,” he forced out.

  The Prometheans might have done this, or it could have been as simple as a hearth fire left unattended after she had been dragged out of her home.

  The point was, her only real place in this world had been destroyed. She was going to be devastated. How much more is she supposed to take?

  He drew a deep breath and glanced at the stars for guidance. He exhaled slowly, steadying himself to break the news to her. “Have a look round,” he said to his men. “See if you can find anything useful. Be careful going in there, though. Those charred beams are likely quite unstable.”

  “Aye, sir.” His men holstered their weapons and went to do as he had said.

  Rohan turned away from the burned ruin of her home and faced the direction where she waited with her two minders.

  He braced himself for the painful task, marching back grimly through the snow. God, for once in my life, let me do something gently.

  “At ease,” he said to Parker and Wilkins as he approached.

  “There’s no one here but us.”

  “See? I knew you were just being overly cautious—as usual,” she teased with a return to her usual cheeky cheer.

  Her words pained him more than she could guess as she jumped down off her horse at onc
e and grabbed his hand in hers. “Come on! I’ll make some tea to warm us up!”

  “Sweeting—wait.” He tightened his hold on her hand and drew her back to him before she could go dashing off in her eagerness.

  “What is it?”

  “Kate—I have bad news.” Haltingly, he said: “There was a fire.”

  “Fire? What do you . . . ?” Her words trailed off. Reading his bleak countenance with a searching gaze, she drew in her breath in horror and suddenly pulled her hand free of his light hold, running toward the cottage.

  Rohan flinched at the blow she was about to receive, but he let her go. No point delaying the inevitable. He strode after her, the snow crunching under his boots.

  She ran ahead, her borrowed cloak flowing out behind her like some dark phantom chasing her. He saw her reach the clearing and stop cold. Her back was to him as he approached, her posture ramrod-straight.

  When he stepped up beside her and looked at her in profile, he saw stunned dread written all over her beautiful face.

  Her mouth was agape, her eyes slightly glazed as her shocked stare traveled over the burned-out husk of her home.

  “Kate?” he whispered.

  She did not even seem to hear him as she took a dazed step forward. She did not say a word; he did not hear her breathe, as though the air had been knocked out of her lungs.

  He reached out to steady her, but his hand barely grazed her when she sprinted toward the ruin without warning.

  “Kate, no! The whole thing could collapse!”

  He was behind her in the blink of an eye, grasping onto her arms, stopping her as she tried to pull forward, panic breaking through her shock.

  “Let go of me!”

  “You can’t go in there! It’s not safe!”

  “Oh, God, I’m ruined,” she gasped out. “What am I to do?” Straining in his arms in wild-eyed confusion, she suddenly stopped trying to escape and sagged against him as a low, keening moan escaped her. “It’s gone. It’s all gone. My home!”

  Rohan’s throat tightened as she hung her head. Her delicate shoulders began to shudder with her quiet, soul-deep sobs.

  He wound his arms around her and held her up, otherwise she would have crumpled to the ground. “I will help you,” he said fiercely as she wept.

  She wasn’t even listening. “It isn’t fair!” she sobbed. “Why is this happening to me? You think you’re cursed? I’m the one who’s cursed—I lost my mother, my father. I lost Charley, and now this! Why?” she wrenched out, tears pouring from her eyes. “Rohan, why, why did they have to come back and do this, vicious thing—for no reason!”

  “Shh,” he soothed as her sobs climbed toward hysteria. “We don’t yet how this happened—”

  “I don’t bother anyone,” she charged on, trying to push him away. “I keep to myself. What did I ever do to deserve this? Let go of me,” she said abruptly, shoving against him with a sudden angry sniffle. “I want to go and see if I can find anything worth saving.”

  “Leave it, Kate.” He held on to her. “It’s too dangerous. At least you’re safe. I’m not going to let you go in there and risk the whole thing caving in on you. Come, it’ll be dark soon. There’s no point staying here much longer. Where’s Charley’s work shed? We’ve come this far. We might as well just get the book and go.”

  “Go, where? I have nowhere to go,” she uttered mournfully.

  “Of course you do.” He grasped her shoulders and stared into her face, trying to bring her back from despair. “You will come back to the castle with me.”

  “I don’t belong there. I don’t belong anyplace.”

  “You belong with me,” he replied without the slightest hesitation.

  Her chin trembled as she held his gaze. “I-I’m not your responsibility.”

  “Yes, you are. You are mine. They gave you to me, remember? And I want to keep you. Come here,” he ordered softly.

  She lifted her arms and stepped into his embrace without another word.

  He hugged her close, his heart pounding. “Listen to me. I don’t want you to worry for one instant what will become of you, all right? I’ll look after you. Whatever you need. You have my word, Kate. You’re not alone, do you understand?” he whispered as he held her.

  After a moment, he felt her nod against his chest.

  “There’s my brave girl,” he murmured, brushing a kiss to her forehead.

  It was at that moment that it dawned on him what he was going to do when they returned to the castle. The thought shocked him as it struck, igniting his heart, even as it filled him with an odd relief.

  Of course.

  She was already under his protection. By now, anyone outside the castle no doubt assumed she was already his mistress. They already wanted each other so badly. He saw no reason now not to offer her his carte blanche.

  Yes. She must become more securely his.

  It was not his way to keep any one particular mistress to service his needs. But if Kate were his, then he would not have to worry about her, even beyond all this business with O’Banyon. He would know exactly where she was, that she was fed, clothed, protected, and provided for.

  Admittedly, it might come across as utterly ruthless of him to make such an offer at a time like this—as though he were coldly taking advantage of her at the moment of her greatest vulnerability. But he was not motivated by lust.

  At least not entirely.

  Obviously, he could not marry her—not with his curse, and her Promethean blood. But if Kate was his mistress, then he could watch over her, and if anyone ever tried to hurt her again, they would have to deal with him first.

  Besides, he knew by now how her mind worked. If he were simply to make her a promise of financial help, she wouldn’t take it. She was too proud. Hell, with her independent spirit, she would abhor any offer that she interpreted as charity. So, let her work for it.

  God, he had dreamed of making love to her since that first night when Caleb Doyle had brought her to the castle for that very purpose.

  Even now, she felt like heaven in his arms. If she was willing, he knew one sure way to comfort her when they got her back to the castle. He could make all her tears and sorrow melt away. . . .

  Cradling her in his embrace, Rohan pressed another possessive kiss to her brow. “Come now, tell me, where is Charley’s work shed?” he asked in a voice gone husky with anticipation.

  “Over there. At the back of the garden.” With a sniffle, she pointed to a modest outbuilding set back at some distance from the house. “It should be locked. Unless whoever did this got in there, as well. Oh, God, I can’t look—what if they’ve taken all my mother’s things?”

  “Do you know where Charley kept the key?”

  She shook her head. “It would have been in the cottage. Somewhere in the rubble . . .”

  Rohan nodded, then called out to Findlay and Mercer: “Check that building there!” He pointed to the outbuilding Kate had indicated.

  The men strode off across the snow-covered garden, then tried the door with a few loud jiggles of the latch.

  “Locked, sir!”

  Rohan glanced at Kate. “That’s good news,” he pointed out. “It probably means the fire was an accident. If intruders had set it, chances are, they’d have broken into the shed, too.”

  She looked at him uncertainly.

  “I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to have the lads break down the door,” he added.

  She shrugged with a weary shake of her head. “It doesn’t matter anymore.”

  Her defeated tone worried him a great deal. “Let’s get that shed open!” he called to his men. “Once you’re in, I’ll need some light, as well. Call me when you’ve got it.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  At once, the first cracking, crunching bangs filled the stillness of the snowy garden as Mercer and Findlay began working to kick the door in. Wood splintered, and the metal locks groaned on their hinges under their violent bashes.

  “This won’t take long
,” Rohan murmured, pained to see the way Kate jumped with each resounding blow. “Do you want to come and help me find the book?”

  She shook her head vehemently and turned away, pressing her lips together. “I can’t face it right now.”

  “I understand. Don’t worry, we’ll find it—”

  “You do it, Rohan,” she pleaded in a shaky tone, turning back to him. “She was my mother. I don’t want strangers going through her things—”

  “All right. I will do it. It’s no problem,” he soothed. She was trembling visibly in the cold. “Come with me, let’s get you warmed up.”

  She managed a nod, but sent one last, tearful stare over her shoulder at her ruined home. Then he put his arm around her shoulders and walked her back out to the stand of trees where they had left the horses.

  When they rejoined the animals, who were pawing away the thin snow for a bit of grazing, Kate went over to the placid gelding he had given her to ride and leaned her head against the animal’s warm, fuzzy neck.

  As she stood hugging the horse, Rohan saw another tear run down her cheek; he clenched his jaw, saving up his fury for all those who had done her harm.

  He could hardly wait to make them pay. Marching over to his tall, powerful hunter, he greeted the animal with a pat, then opened the laces of the saddlebag, and pulled out a small flask of whiskey he had brought along to help ward off the cold.

  Slipping it into his greatcoat pocket, he then unfastened the rolled blanket attached to the back of his saddle. He had thought she might need it. He carried both items back to her, unfurled the blanket and draped it around her shoulders just as he had on the morning he had saved her from the crumbling cliff. Next he presented her with the flask and nodded at her to take a drink.

  “Go on, it’ll help.”

  She did not argue.

  As he watched her lift it to her lips and take a tentative sip, he rested his hands casually atop the weapons attached to the leather belt slung around his waist: the butt of his pistol beneath his right hand, the handle of his sword below his left.

  He gazed at her, wondering if she had any idea of how dear to him she had become. At least now he could finally discard his efforts to hold her at arm’s length.