“Repeat what you said!” James said. If the man had known him, he would have recognized the underlining threat to his voice.
“Who the hell are you listenin’ in on a honest man’s talkin’?” the man asked as he leaned back in his chair.
James grabbed the man by the collar of his filthy coat and slammed him against the wall, his head making a satisfying thump against the stone. “I asked you to repeat what you just said, or I will take you out behind this fine establishment and beat you until even your own mother will not recognize you.” His face was mere inches from the man’s. “And trust me, I can do it.”
The elder man moved away and the younger shot him a glare. “Ain’t you goin’ to help me?” he managed to choke out.
“I don’t know nothing about nothing,” the Scotsman said as he grabbed a dilapidated hat and clutched it tightly in his hands.
“I will count to three, and if you haven’t told me what I want to know…just know that I keep my promises.”
The man gasped for air as James tightened the hold on his collar, which also tightened against his throat. “Fine, I’ll tell you!”
Although James did not release him, he did loosen his hold. “Go on, then.”
“I just said ‘a prince from the sea’, you know, coming off a ship, nothin’ more. It was something told to me.”
James released the man but blocked his way in case he decided to attempt a quick escape. “Continue.”
“That’s it. A woman said something about wanting a prince and a ship or something.” The man looked as if he was about ready to cry.
James had no time for pity. “The woman who told you that? Where is she?”
The man hesitated.
“I am the Duke of Pillberton,” James said through clenched teeth as he leaned into the man one again. It took every everything he had in him not to do as he promised even if the man were able to lead him to Sarah. “With one word I could have you hanged in the streets before the sun rises if you do not give me the answer I seek.”
The red-headed man gasped as he stood staring at James, his mouth hanging open and his eyes wide as his face turned an sickly white. “The Duke of Pillberton?” he said in a near whisper. “Marcus, that’s the man who burned down that woman’s garden as a child! Killed a dozen people in the process! Tell him what he wants to know, for God’s sake!”
Marcus nodded, his face matching the Scotsman’s hue. “She’s with Harry at the cottage of the Widow Barlow. Well, she ain’t really a widow anymore seeing as she died a few weeks back.”
“Where is this cottage?” James asked, his anger hotter than the fire blazing beside him.
The man pointed toward a window. “The road back out of town, take the first left. It’s down aways, but it’s the only cottage you come across for some time.”
James took a step away from Marcus and the man slumped in relief. However, he did not take his eyes off the man as he spoke. “Know this, if I ever see you again, I will not hesitate to do what I must. I would finish your drink immediately, leave and never return.”
The man nodded, his eyes so wide they reflected the entirety of the room.
James hurried to the door and over to the innkeeper. He had paid the man to stable Molly, giving him extra to see that she had oats for her dinner.
“I will need my horse brought back around.” When the man made no move to do his bidding, James raised his voice. “Not tomorrow! Get on with it!”
“Y-yes, My Lord. Right away!” He called over to young man in mismatched and oversized livery.
However, James did not want to wait a moment longer. Instead, he swore under his breath and shoved past the young man without even a second glance. Then he himself ran to the stables to collect Thunder. He had the saddle placed on Thunder in no time and was racing down the road toward Widow Barlow’s cottage and the woman he loved.
This Harry had best pray that Sarah was safe, because James was unsure as to what he would do to the man if she was hurt in any way.
***
James took a left as directed as Thunder kicked up large splashes of water. The legs of his breeches were soaked through, but James cared not; the only worry he had was for Sarah. For a brief moment, he wondered if the man named Marcus had lied to him about Sarah's whereabouts. However, as he reflected back to the look of fear on the man’s face and the frightened tone his friend had used told him that what he had said had been the truth.
He had not paid attention to the elder man’s story about James and his terrorizing of a family, but it would be something about which he would have to ask Sarah later. The thought of her brought on a feeling of urgency and James dug his heels into Thunder’s flanks to urge him to go even faster. He prayed the road was safe enough for the horse to travel at such a speed in the deplorable weather, but at this moment, his only thoughts were of getting to Sarah before something dreadful happened to her.
For some time he rode, then a flash of lightning lit up the night sky and at the same time illuminated a lone cottage in the distance. There was smoke rising from its chimney and a faint glow in the window telling him that someone was there. He slowed Thunder and then came to a stop at least a hundred feet from the building. It had to be the cottage where Sarah was being held, for he had passed no other for miles. Though he did not know how many men were involved in this crime, he had gathered from the conversation with Marcus that only one would be here at this moment. There could be ten and James still would not be balked. He would save Sarah no matter the number of men he had to fight to do it.
The rain muted Thunder’s steps as James moved up to the door. His Sarah was inside waiting to be rescued. She had told him repeatedly of her dreams of a prince saving her from danger, and now was his chance to do just that.
He slid off the horse and tied the reins to a small tree beside the cottage. With long strides, his feet sank in the mud as he made his way to the door. A voice he recognized as Sarah’s came to his ears. The sound brought joy to his heart and hope to his mind, but the words confused him. He pressed his ear to the door and listened to what she was saying.
“Harry, you beast!” she was saying in a husky tone that make James’s blood boil. “See how my bosom heaves for you?”
“I do and it is a lovely bosom,” the man, who must have been Harry, said in a tone that expressed a sheer happiness that dug into James’s back as if a knife had been lodged there.
“Kiss me more,” Sarah cooed. “Bring my desires for you to their peak!”
“You mean like this?” Harry asked.
“Yes!” Sarah cried. “My desire is overflowing for you. Please, a few more drinks and your wonderful kisses and I will be yours!”
That was it! James stood back and gaped at the door that separated him from the woman he loved. He had no idea what was happening, but he would put a stop to it if it was the last thing he did. There was no need for her to give her innocence away to this scoundrel, and getting drunk would not take away the regret she would surely feel come morning.
Sarah wanted a chivalrous prince to rescue her from her day of peril. That day had come, and her hero was there. With a shout of anger, he kicked open the door and then stopped dead in his tracks, not believing what he saw before him.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Harry knelt before Sarah and brought her hand once again to his lips. And once again Sarah held back the revulsion that coursed through her body. Did the man have some sort of special ability to drink more than any other man and still remain conscious? For he had dunk almost the entire bottle of brandy and yet still maintained even the smallest of his faculties.
Once again, Sarah took the bottle from him and pretended to drink. His single eye moved to her breasts, as they had often throughout their time together, the longing he exhibited making Sarah ill.
She glanced down again from her seat as he once more pressed his dirty lips to her hand. His crooked smile covered his entire face as he looked up at her with expectation. When she g
ave no sign of the Courtship of the Two Birds working, he frowned.
“Enough of the ceremony,” he said in a slurred voice as he attempted to stand. “Time for bed.” He wobbled on his feet, and Sarah took the bottle from his hand making as if to take a drink. “One more kiss for the mood.” Harry grabbed her hand again and pressed his lips to her knuckles. She wondered if her hand would ever be clean enough to hold a fork when this nightmare was over.
Then everything happened at once. Just as she brought the now almost empty bottle down on the top of Harry’s head, the front door burst open, and James rushed through with a roar, his face the brightest crimson she had ever seen on him before. He stopped mid-step and stared, his jaw hanging open.
Harry gasped. “Why did…” he started to say.
Sarah let out a shrill scream when Harry stood up and grabbed the back of his head, a look of such anger, she feared the man would carry her off as James stood watching with that dumbfounded look upon his face. But in the next moment James, seeming to have regained his senses, took another step forward and delivered a blow to Harry’s jaw, the crack resounding in the small room.
Sarah had never witnessed such barbaric actions in such close proximity, and she held her hand against her breast in an attempt to keep her heart from bursting from her chest from the excitement of it all.
James grabbed Harry by his shirt and lifted the man off the floor. “He’s out cold.” He let go of the shirt and Harry slumped over into a heap. James then turned to Sarah. “Are you all right?” he asked between gasps. “I am so glad I saved you from this brute.”
Sarah could not believe the cheek of the man. “Saved me? I was doing quite well until you burst into the room like some sort of barbarian,” she said, standing up and smoothing out her dress.
James raised an eyebrow as he stepped closer to her. “I was worried,” he said. “Are you sure you are fine?”
Sarah looked into his brown eyes, her heart racing. Even when she was a mere heartbeat away from losing her innocence, she could not help but be drawn into those eyes. For a moment, all anger she had for him from earlier in the day was gone. In its place was a longing for him to press his lips against hers. To hold her, and maybe even thank her for putting an end to Harry.
“I promise, I am fine,” she whispered breathlessly.
Then, much to her dismay, James did what men always did, ruined any moment of civility and romance that could have blossomed. He turned, went back to Harry and stood over him. “Where did he kiss you?” James asked in an angry voice. Was he jealous? The idea made her want to laugh, but she held it inside.
She put her hands behind her back as she shook her head and studied the lines in the wooden floor. “I cannot say, for the shame would never leave me. However, if you are worried I am ruined, fear not. I merely told him that I was aroused by the smell of liquor from his lips and he believed it.”
“You mean you didn't really have desires for me?” Harry croaked.
Sara looked down at the man without pity but said nothing.
James, however, grabbed the man by his shirt once again and pulled him so his face was just inches from his. “I should pummel your face for eternity for hurting my fiancée,” he said through a clenched jaw. “Tell me why I should not.”
Sarah snorted as she pushed herself between the two men. “I am not your fiancée. Do not think because this savage kidnapped me I am going to marry you!”
“Does that mean you’re going to marry me?” Harry asked.
Sarah and James looked down at him. “No!” they both shouted in unison.
“You truly are a disgusting scoundrel,” James said to the man. “How could you kidnap a woman and then try to have your way with her? I should see you hanged for this.”
Much to Sarah’s surprise, the man began to weep. She feared James would kill him and perhaps maybe even lay the blame on her so he could retain his title.
She placed her hand on James’s arm. “I do not wish you to hurt him,” she said quietly. “Let him go.”
When she looked into his eyes once again, she saw the anger slowly dissipate, and her heart could stand it no longer. This was the man she loved, and she could no longer ignore that fact.
“He sought to hurt you,” James said, amazement in his voice. “He brought you here against your will.”
Sarah nodded. “But I am now safe. Let him go, James.”
For a moment, James only stared at her, but then he turned toward Harry. “My name is Lord James Foxworth, Duke of…” he started to say before Harry cut him off.
“The Duke of Pillberton?” Harry was now as white as a sheet. “The man who burned down a family's estate? Who massacred all the workers with a pitchfork? Most of us men had considered that story as just legend.” Harry’s voice was just above a whisper as he spoke.
James turned toward Sarah and she quickly looked down at the floor, finding a sudden interest in her feet. When she looked back up, he was studying her with an intense, yet curious, look.
“As I was saying,” James said, his voice sounding disturbed, “if I were you, I would leave this moment and never return within a thousand miles of this area. And do not think I cannot find out if you try this again with Sarah—or any other woman for that matter. Marcus told me enough that I could have you tracked down within an hour.”
Harry gulped, his hands shaking. “You know Marcus?”
“I know every man across this country. Now, leave before I decide to send word to have you hunted down and shot this very night.”
Harry did not have to be told twice and he rushed to the door, his feet still bare.
James walked over, his large frame all but blocking the doorway as he watched Harry run off into the night.
Sarah let out a silent sigh as her eyes roamed across his broad back, the dark blue coat tight against his muscles. Even in his soaked state he was a handsome man, one any woman would desire. And try as she might, she could not deny the desire that built up in her as she wondered what his back looked like under that coat. She bit at her lip and shook her head. Was she growing soft? It was one thing to admit she loved him and quite another to wonder what he looked like bereft of clothing.
“He is gone now,” James said as he closed the door and turned around. “If it was not for your mercy, I would have finished what I started.” The proud smile on his face brought back the memories of her frustration with the man.
“Your mercy?” she said in astonishment. “What you started? It was the bottle against his head that sent him to the ground, not your fist. If it wasn't for me…” Her voice choked as the emotions from all that had transpired that day finally caught up with her. Soon, tears streamed down her face, and try as she might, she could not stop them.
“Here, let me hold you,” he said, his arms outstretched.
Sarah gasped. “My moment of weakness and all you can think about is pressing your body against mine?” She walked over to stand near the fire with her back to him. When she heard the loud sigh, the tears stopped and a small smile played at her lips.
“You must tell me what happened,” James said in a feeble attempt to change the subject. “When did those men take you? How did you know to get him drunk? And why did you not run at the most opportune moment?”
Sarah turned around and sighed dramatically. “It is a tale I ask you never to repeat,” she said. When he nodded his agreement, she placed her hands behind her back and began to pace the small room.
“After the verbal assault on my good name today,” she said in her best theatrical voice, “I decided to take Molly out for a short ride. That man, Harry,” she said, nodding towards the door, “was the last member of a deadly group of pirates that were shipwrecked in England many years ago that now roam the countryside stealing women for their own carnal desires.”
James took a seat in one of the chairs next to the fire and leaned back into it. “Oh, my!” he said. When she shot him a glare, he quickly added, “I do apologize. Please continue.�
�� He wore an amused smile, which she chose to ignore.
“I knew something was amiss when I saw the woman they had on the side of the road bound in rope. I could not pass by and go in search of help, for I feared it would be too late for her and they would be able to go through with their deadly deed and she would be lost forever. So, I asked them to take me instead and let her go.”
For some time she spoke and was thrilled as James seemed to soak in every word. The tale she told was true, at least some of it. Of course, there had been no other woman and the men were not truly pirates from the high seas, but they were pirates in their own way, so it still was the truth in its own sense. When she was done, she found herself exhausted and took a seat opposite James.
“I am glad you are safe and that you managed to save yourself,” he said, which made her smile. Perhaps he was not as ignorant as she had led herself to believe and maybe there was hope for him after all. “I would like to explain about my mother and the events that transpired today, if you please.”
Sarah stood and put her hand to her mouth to stifle a yawn. “You can tell me come morning. I would like to go to sleep so we can leave early.”
“Very well, then,” James said, rising up from his chair.
“That was not an invitation for you to join me!” Sarah gasped. She shook her head as she grabbed the only candle, knowing full well he would be left with the fire as his only source of light.
“Goodnight, Sarah,” he called after her.
She snorted and then stomped off to the bedroom, feeling his gaze on her as she passed him. Once the door was closed behind her, however, she let out a sigh, though there was a smile to her face.
“Goodnight, James,” she whispered, her smile becoming wider as she said his name.
Chapter Twenty-Five
The sun had not been up for long when James walked to the tiny stable to saddle Thunder. Two hours earlier, he had woken and listened at the bedroom door to hear the gentle melody of Sarah’s breathing as she slept, and that simple sound warmed his heart.
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