by Heather Boyd
“You almost missed her. She didn’t hold out the least bit of hope for your return. In her condition, I don’t blame her.” The innkeeper’s wife shrugged. “Same room as last night.”
Constantine pondered her words as he took the stairs two at a time, navigating the narrow staircase and hallway so he could reach Rosemary first. He pushed open the door and froze.
The room was empty. He glanced back into the hall and determined that yes, he had come to the right room. The bed was still rumpled. “Rosemary?”
Leopold barged past him. “Where the hell is she?”
“As if I know.” Constantine searched the room, wondering if Rosemary had adopted Maisy’s habit of hiding beneath and behind furnishing.
He ducked his head to check under the bed and discovered her luggage had been stowed beneath. He dragged the case out and set it on the bed. When he opened it, everything he knew she owned was still there. “She cannot be far.”
He strode from the room, shouting for the innkeeper’s wife as he went. “You said we almost missed her and it seems we have. Where could she have gone?”
“But I just left her a moment before your carriage arrived.” The woman frowned. “She was to catch the mail coach this morning, but it’s not come yet. I’m surprised Miss Clark’s out of bed, frankly. She’s been casting up her accounts since before daybreak.”
“She truly is ill? I thought perhaps…”
“You thought she’d what? Be all noble and run away before you came this way again? That she’d spare you the embarrassment of getting a bastard on her?”
“What did you say?” Constantine towered over her as dread filled him. Rosemary had once promised she could take care of any indiscretions and the thought of her plans filled him with fear. “Is she with child?”
“That is what I said, although she denies it’s possible.” Mrs. Lamb shook her head. “If she’s not in her room, perhaps she’s gone to confess her sins to the vicar. She’s already visited the graveyard.”
Their sins. He was as much to blame for what had happened between them as she was. He strode out the front door and onto the street. “Where’s the vicarage?”
The innkeeper’s wife pointed west. “That way. You’ll likely notice the graveyard first. The house is beyond that, overlooking the valley.”
Constantine stared up the street. Yesterday morning, Meredith had done the very same thing. Rosemary, you fool. The woman’s name was Rosemary Randall, a woman with exceptional connections who had no need to bamboozle him with further misdirection. It would take him a while to keep that firmly in mind.
Her brothers jogged to catch up. “Where are you going?”
“To get her back.”
He saw the graveyard first, bleak and cold. A reminder of the past for those who were left behind. He slowed his pace and allowed the Randall brothers to reach the vicar’s residence first. Why would Rosemary have gone to the cemetery yesterday? He stopped dead in his tracks when the answer came to him. Because her past began here.
As he took a step toward the vicar’s home, a flash of white linen amid the gray headstones caught his eye. He walked a few more steps and stopped behind an evergreen bush. Someone was in the cemetery. He peeked around the bush. Nothing moved. But he was certain he’d seen a body hiding there. A living, breathing one. Someone taking great pains to keep out of sight.
Slowly, he advanced into the graveyard, skirting large and small headstones while keeping his steps as quiet as possible. If Rosemary was hiding from them, he didn’t want to scare her off. Who knows how far she’d run this time?
When he didn’t see anything moving amid the grave markers, he concluded it might have been a trick of the light.
He took another step and stopped, eyes snagging on a patch of printed muslin. A muslin he recognized because he’d had the pleasure of removing it from his lover several nights ago. His pulse quickened. Meredith Clark had no reason to hide from him or from the occupants of a Romsey carriage. Yet the possibility that Rosemary Randall thought she did grew in strength. All those nights she would not discuss her past and the future came back to haunt him.
He should have tried harder rather than getting hard.
He should have teased and tormented until she’d told him her name.
“Is that you there, Meredith? Or is it finally Rosemary?”
The figure did not move immediately. The pause, he decided, was the woman stalling for time to come up with a story to explain her actions. Hiding wasn’t something an honest or fearless person did.
She rolled to her feet and danced back several steps. Her skin was pale and shone with perspiration, but her eyes were fierce and defiant. She did not look the least bit happy to see him. “My lord, what a pleasure to see you again, and so soon. I was not anticipating your return.”
“You were going to disappear again?” He took a pace forward. “Did you not think I would search for you, too?”
“The vicar hasn’t seen her for hours,” Leopold called as he strode through the graveyard, glancing left and right.
“There was no harm in asking,” Tobias stated as the brothers hurried toward him.
Rosemary tensed, her hands curled into fists.
Could the brothers not see their prey? Constantine glanced around swiftly and guessed Rosemary was hidden from view by a very large mausoleum. A few more steps and she’d be discovered. Panic tensed her body until Constantine feared she would run for the distant forest and never look back.
He didn’t want to lose her. Not when she might be carrying their child. Not when he loved her despite the lies. “Please,” he whispered. “Be as brave as you have always been, Rosemary, and stay.”
CHAPTER 26
CONSTANTINE HELD OUT one hand. “Just meet your brothers. Give them a chance to prove your fears wrong. If not for me, then for my daughters. They need you.”
Her eyes filled with pain, but it was too late for further pleas. Leopold saw her standing still and started to run. It all happened so fast. One moment Randall was poised to embrace his sister, the next moment he sailed through the air and crashed hard into the ground, breath leaving his lungs in a pained groan. While Constantine struggled to believe what Rosemary had just accomplished so effortlessly, Leopold staggered to his feet and faced Rosemary again. “Is that the best you can do, imp?”
Rosemary’s eyes narrowed to dangerous slits and her head jerked around to keep track of the approaching men. Her posture was battle ready. All she needed were two daggers in her hands to make the image complete. When her gaze landed on him, her expression was so hostile that he took a cautious step back. This was a side of the woman he loved that he’d never imagined existed. Where was the woman who’d sung lullabies to his infant daughter? Had he known this woman at all?
Her eyes clouded with disappointment and then she straightened her shoulders and faced off with Leopold. “You’re one of them now, are you?”
“There is only us, Rosie,” Oliver said as he stepped between her and Leopold. “We are all that is left and there is no one to hurt you anymore.”
Her hands lowered marginally but then she jerked them back up. “There is still the boy. Don’t think I could forget he exists. If you take me back, I’ll punish him for the sins of his father and grandfather.”
“Then you would be punishing me and our father. He’s my boy.” Leopold sidestepped Oliver and surged forward to catch Rosemary.
But she was too fast. She ducked beneath his reaching arms, jabbed him in the ribs with her curled fist and danced behind a headstone, well out of reach of either brother. “Too slow.”
“I’m not.” Oliver vaulted the grave to reach her, but instead of trying to catch her, he swung his fist straight toward her face.
As Constantine lunged forward to save her, an arm clapped around his chest, preventing him from moving. Constantine struggled against Tobias’s hold. “Let me go.”
Rosemary avoided the hit, just barely, and found a large headstone to place betw
een them. “That’s new.”
“It’s a special occasion,” Oliver told her as he shrugged his shoulders. “One must always try to throw one’s opponent off-balance. Elizabeth will never forgive me if you come home sporting a black eye.”
Tobias’s grip firmed around Constantine’s chest. “I wouldn’t get between them if I were you. I learned my lesson when I was twelve. He’ll be fine, I promise.”
Rosemary eased forward. “What if you go home with the black eye?”
“Then I will have deserved it.” Oliver lunged, caught her swinging fist, and forced her backward. Rosemary stumbled even while landing blows to his ribs with her other fist.
Constantine struggled. “I’m not worried about him, I’m worried about Rosemary. She could be hurt.”
“She won’t be, I promise. Oliver would never hurt our sister. Haven’t you noticed he’s only fighting with one hand? Makes it fairer that way. His longer arms give him an unfair advantage.” Tobias sighed. “This bout is long overdue and probably a necessary salve for her pride. Admitting defeat is something she was never good at.”
Constantine shuddered as Oliver raised his arm to block a blow directed toward his head. How much more of this could a man stand before he fought back? “She could easily be hurt,” Constantine hissed. “Didn’t any of you hear Mrs. Lamb? She might be with child.”
Tobias grunted. “Just the same. Stay out of it. Oliver will have factored her possible condition into his strategy.”
Horrified, Constantine struggled toward Rosemary, but Tobias had a firm grip for one so slim. Tight bands of steel held him apart from the woman he loved and he was helpless to go to her aid.
“This should be interesting,” Tobias said conversationally as Rosemary and Oliver sparred to and fro. He winced every time Rosemary connected a blow with her brother. Yet so far, the taller man had not connected once. He blocked and forced Rosemary to give ground. Rosemary’s face was slowly turning red but Oliver wasn’t even panting.
Leopold shuffled toward them, half bent over, holding his side as if he were truly injured. He glanced over his shoulder as Oliver grunted when struck in the center of his chest. “Damn, she’s fast.”
“And the sly fox appears to be slowly working her way toward the far doorway set in the stone wall. Excuse me. Keep Grayling here, will you, Leo? He’s a little concerned about Rose.”
Tobias released him and ran for the high stone wall surrounding the graveyard. When he vaulted it and disappeared behind, Constantine swore. “My sisters have married bloody circus performers.”
He moved toward Rosemary, but Leopold blocked his path. “I’d rather you kept me out of that description. But never fear, Tobias promised Blythe never to let anyone see him do that anymore. Given this is an emergency, she’ll forgive him soon enough.”
Tobias appeared in the stone archway, arms crossed over his chest. When Rosemary saw her escape route had been thwarted, she renewed her attack on Oliver. Except that in her anger, she made a mistake. As she lunged to thump her fist into Oliver’s unprotected ribs, he again stepped inside the blow and wrapped his hands about her waist. “Yield, Terror.”
“No.” Rosemary squirmed.
Oliver juggled her for a better grip as if she weighed nothing. “Then up you go.”
While Constantine watched in shock, the tall man lifted Rosemary above his head on her side. All five feet two of her was held stiffly in a rigid length.
“Put me down,” she shrieked.
Oliver grinned up at her. “Are you ready for the next part? Remember how much you liked twirling?”
“Don’t, don’t, don’t,” she gasped. “I’ll be sick all over you.”
Oliver tossed her in the air once. “What do you think, Toby? Do we believe her, or should we continue our usual game?”
Tobias kept a distance, his expression wary. “It’s your suit of clothes that will need cleaning. Grayling believes she’s with child. Probably his.”
“Of course it’s his,” Rosemary admitted. “Put me down, you brainless clod.”
“And there is my sweet-tongued sister.” Oliver grinned as he lowered Rosemary gently into his arms and held her there. “So the terror will spawn another. This I cannot wait to see.”
Rosemary thumped his shoulder. “You’re an evil man, Oliver Randall.”
Instead of taking offense, Oliver laughed. “Elizabeth will never believe one disparaging word you say.”
“So you did marry her?” In the blink of an eye, Rosemary wrapped her arms around Oliver. Constantine took a step in that direction but stopped when he heard sobbing. Leopold wasn’t so timid. He strode the remaining distance, coming to a standstill before his siblings. He hesitantly placed his hand on her shoulder. “We’ve been looking for you, Rosemary.”
Her head rose and she sniffed. “I know, but it’s much too late to come home again. It would be better for everyone if you had never found me.”
“Of course you can come home.” Leopold pressed his hand to her hair. “You must.”
When she wriggled to get away from the affectionate touch, Oliver lowered her gently to her feet and stepped back.
Rosemary scowled at her three brothers who’d formed a circle about her. “No one can make me do anything anymore. You must know, I am well beyond ruin. I’ll only be an embarrassment to you all. You each have a family to think of.”
All eyes turned accusingly at Constantine.
Yet he had a family to think of, too, and they loved this woman. A woman who would fight, and lie, and love more bravely than anyone he’d ever met. Despite what he’d just witnessed, his feelings hadn’t changed one bit.
“Oh, leave Grayling be.” Rosemary pointed to a headstone. “They’re here.”
All the brothers refocused on Rosemary. “Who’s here?”
“Mama and Papa. Over by the wall.” Rosemary moved off toward a headstone and the three brothers followed like obedient puppies, probably to be sure she didn’t get away.
Constantine followed at a distance, wondering how hard the brothers would be to convince to let him speak to her alone. They appeared rather protective. Constantine had grown used to being with Rosemary whenever he wanted.
She stopped before a simple headstone and wrapped her arms about her chest. “They buried them here, the day after they were shot.”
Oliver set his arm about his younger brother’s shoulders while Leopold knelt. “Finding where our parents were buried is the last piece of the puzzle I never thought to have.”
Rosemary stood alone, staring down at the grave silently.
Constantine waited until the brothers raised their heads from their study of the headstone and then he shrugged out of his coat. Rosemary would be cold. She was always cold. He advanced into the group and, ignoring their suspicious expressions, he wrapped Rosemary up. “You rushed out without even a coat.”
Her smile was watery. “I had someplace I needed to be. Thank you.”
“Anytime.”
She stuck her arms into the sleeves and her hands into the pockets before lifting her chin to the heavens. “At least it is not raining today. I do hate to say goodbye when it rains.”
Leopold caught his sister’s face and turned her toward him. “If you are finished beating your brothers up, perhaps we could go back to the inn where it’s warm. I’m anticipating Tobias will complain that he’s hungry any minute.”
A hesitant smile crossed her face and she looked away.
“Tobias was always hungry. Some things never change, I see. I’m sure Mrs. Lamb can find enough to fill him and the rest of you before you go.”
Rosemary caught up her skirts and headed for the lych-gate. Before she’d gone too many steps, she had a brother on each side, the younger trailing behind. No doubt making sure every avenue of escape was denied her. Constantine stared after them. Anxiety filled him. She wasn’t coming back with them. No matter what her brothers hoped, Rosemary intended to remain apart from the Randalls.
But where d
id that leave him and his daughters, and the child she was expecting?
~ * ~
Rosemary struggled against the vise-like grip Leopold had on one arm, determined to break free and stand on her own two feet. The stern face at her side made her heart ache so badly that she blinked back tears. Leopold looked so much like their father that she expected to hear his voice telling her to behave as a proper lady would. But the days when such a feat might be possible were far behind and could never be recaptured. She was what she was. Her brother didn’t need to know just how far she’d fallen. “I see you haven’t outgrown your bossy tendencies.”
“I see you haven’t been tamed.”
“Hardly.” Rosemary looked ahead toward the inn. She forced a sunny smile to her face. “Where would be the fun in behaving against my nature?”
His grip tightened. “None of us have enjoyed the past years. In fact, some of us were lucky to survive the duke’s abduction to return.”
Rosemary’s pulse raced as Oliver moved closer. The sensation of being hemmed in was making her rather nervous of her brothers. One on one she could undoubtedly hold her own. But they’d grown to be rather tall and formidable opponents. She wouldn’t be able to escape all three if they worked together against her. “Unless you are prepared to fight me again, I suggest you stop crowding me. I don’t much care for the sensation. Or are you planning on abducting me, too?”
Leopold released her immediately. Oliver slipped his arm through hers. “Come now, Terror. You cannot fault us for giving you the greeting, the fight, you intended to have. I see you have improved your technique.”
Rosemary tilted her chin to look up at Oliver. He’d grown so old. What had happened to him? He was pale and thin, his brown hair now as gray as Papa’s had been before his death. At first, she’d feared fighting him. But after he deflected her first strike, she’d discovered her brother was deceptively strong. She looked ahead to the inn. “I had considerable incentive to remember your lessons. I won’t run.”
He laughed. “Elizabeth has suggested I should interact with people more often. See how well I’m doing, escorting my sister about on my arm? I am glad we cut our journey short or else I might have missed you. We eloped, you know. Is that not romantic?”
