Lord of Fates: A Complete Historical Regency Romance Series (3-Book Box Set)

by K. J. Jackson

  { Chapter 14 • Earl of Destiny }

  Brianna turned her horse to the left, sending it up along the path next to the church in Hoppleton. They moved upward between the buildings, passing the hill holding the graveyard.

  The sleepy village was sized perfectly—large enough to welcome newcomers without suspicion, but small enough that the people would protect their neighbors.

  She was going to have a hard time finding another village as perfect. Especially one within a few hours travel of Notlund.

  Eyes going back over her shoulder, she scanned the main road through town. Normal activity. A few wagons. Several horses. People walking about. Her gaze swept back and forth on the empty hillside on either side of her. Nothing except for gravestones.

  Clicking Firesprite forward, her eyes flickered to the middle of the five cottages positioned just above the graveyard. She guided the horse around to the rear of the row of cottages and slid down from her sidesaddle.

  Tying her horse to the post near the well, she left enough rein for Firesprite to drink from the nearby trough and to nibble the tall grasses alongside it.

  Her look still darting about, Brianna slipped between the middle houses, knocking on the side door to the center cottage. Before there was an answer, she opened the door, entering the house.

  Brianna looked around the empty drawing room, ears straining in the quiet house. “Cousin Frannie?”

  Footsteps echoed down the center hallway. “Thank goodness, child.” Frannie appeared in the doorway, a carving knife in one hand. “You had me scared half to Hades.”

  Brianna went across the room, pulling Frannie into a quick hug. “Were you cooking, cutting meat? I did not mean to interrupt.”

  Frannie pulled away, flashing the fat knife. “This? Oh no, child, I was snapping peas.” She wiped her hand on her apron, then smoothed her grey hair into her bun. “I grabbed this when I heard the side door open.”

  Brianna looked down the empty hall. “Where is Harry?”

  “Just up the woods a bit. With some other rapscallions from town. They have young Mary with them—she is the Horten boy’s older sister, so she should keep them in line. They are supposed to be picking berries. But I doubt Harry will come back with many. He is a snitcher, that one. Cannot hardly keep a tart intact for dessert these days.” Frannie’s kind eyes narrowed at Brianna. “You do not look right, child. Do I need to round up Harry?”

  Brianna shook her head. “Do not fret, Frannie. It is not an emergency, but I do think it is time to move you again. We have a few days while I find something suitable.”

  “Harry is not going to take kindly to it. He is happy here.”

  Brianna bit her lip. “I know. I saw last time I was here how very much he likes this place. But I am worried.”

  Frannie put her thick hand on Brianna’s shoulder, squeezing it. “If you are worried, child, then we should move. Harry will be happy anywhere, you have taken care of that.”

  Sighing, Brianna set her palm on the back of Frannie’s hand. “Thank you for that. But I realize that as he gets older—he remembers so much more now—I fear he will become less resilient.”

  “He will be fine, child. Do not worry on it.” Frannie’s hand dropped from Brianna’s shoulder, and she turned, going down the hallway to the back room.

  Brianna trailed her, passing the big pile of peas mounded on a table. “Can you be ready in two days’ time? I am afraid I do not have extra time today to help you pack. I only have a moment, truly, for this conversation, but I would like to say hello to Harry before I leave.”

  Frannie pointed with the tip of the knife out the back window. “He is in those woods, not too far in. He knows to pop in and out so I can see him. He should be showing up again soon.”

  “Excellent.” Brianna wrapped an arm around Frannie’s shoulder, leaning over her plump frame to peck her cheek. “Thank you for being so understanding. I will return within a few days when I have everything settled.”

  “You always do well at it, child. No move has been as traumatic as that first time.” Frannie nodded at her. “We will be ready.”

  Brianna opened the back door of the cottage, walking up the slight hill toward the trees. The woods were sparse, giving perfect dappled shade for growing wild berries. She looked through the trees, trying to spot movement.

  “Nama, Nama, Nama.”

  Brianna heard Harry’s squealing voice before she saw him. And then a tumbling tornado burst out of the woods, his short little legs carrying him as fast as possible down the hill. His head flew forward, his torso almost overtaking the pace of his feet.

  Berries were smeared on his hands and across the lower part of his face. Brianna watched, cringing as Harry’s legs almost tangled under him several times. But he managed to keep upright, stumbling, then jumping at the last possible second into her.

  Laughing, Brianna caught him from his flying leap in midair. She bent, her knees on the ground so she could balance him in her lap.

  “Nama, Nama.” He yanked away, his blackberry hands pushing on her grey riding jacket so he could see her face. “Nama, I missed you.” A big purple smack of his lips went onto her cheek.

  Brianna couldn’t stop laughing at his beard of purple berry juice while trying to avoid his sticky hands. Little hands he was determined to get all over her. Frannie had been quite right about the snitching.

  “Brianna.”

  The voice was so out of place for the moment, for where she was, that Brianna almost didn’t note it.

  But then it sank in.

  Sebastian.

  She jumped to her feet, spinning, still holding Harry in her arms.

  Sebastian stood ten paces from her, his hands clenched in fists, his chest heaving. Seething.

  “Seb—”

  “You have a blasted child?”

  He turned, running down past the houses and out of view before Brianna could even take a breath, much less utter a word.

  Dammit.

  In shock, Brianna dropped Harry to his feet.

  He grabbed her hand. “What wrong, Nama?”

  Brianna looked down to see his cherub cheeks had gone from smiling to serious concern.

  She had to shake herself into movement as his face turned panicked.

  Scruffing his head, she bent down to his eye level, attempting to keep her voice light. “Nothing is wrong, Harry. I am very happy to see you, but I have to leave right now. I promise to be back in a few days. Can you please run inside to Auntie Frannie?”

  He nodded, giving her a quick hug around the neck and running the rest of the way down the hill to his cottage.

  Brianna’s feet started moving, slowly, then picked up speed until she was in a full run. Onto Firesprite within a minute, she tore through town, aimed in the direction of Notlund, praying that was where Sebastian disappeared.

  Pushing the horse, her breakneck speed rewarded her a mile outside of Hoppleton when she caught a glimpse of Sebastian disappearing over the crest of a far-off hill.

  She pressed Firesprite even harder, willing the horse to find wings on its hooves.

  She had to catch up to Sebastian.

  She had to.

  An hour later, Brianna lifted her hand from the reins, trying to quickly wipe away stinging sweat from her eyes with the back of her glove. It only smeared the sweat further into her eye, blurring her vision.

  “No one will find you, Brianna. No one cares. The only one that did was me, and even that was a lie you fell too easily for. Worthless chit. You do not even know what love looks like.”

  The sneered words attacked her frazzled mind, and Brianna fought them, shoved them away, wiping her eyes from the stinging sweat again. She had to reach Sebastian. She had to.

  Sebastian had been impossible to catch, much less gain any length on. She could see his cloud of dust, his fresh tracks, an occasional glimpse of him, but he didn’t slow. Didn’t stop.

  And why should he? Not after what he saw. What he thought.


  She pushed Firesprite down and through the stream again, crossing over to the switchback trail through the woods. It would slow her, but it was slowing Sebastian as well, as she could see the fresh broken branches, and still hear his horse echoing through the trees.

  “Seb.” She screamed his name, hoping the echo of her voice would reach him. Slow him just enough for her to catch him. “Seb.”

  Still movement ahead. If anything, the echoes of branches crunching came faster, more brutal.

  Brianna clicked Firesprite on, encouraging as much speed as she could as they dodged, whipping back and forth through the scrawny trail.

  And then she saw him.

  Saw the tail of his black horse. Saw him crouched low, pushing his horse through the last thin line in the woods before the land opened onto fields once more.

  She could cut him off. She saw it in an instant. If she cut through the low brush, forging a straight trail, she could cut him off. Firesprite was nimble. She knew the horse could do it.

  Brianna yanked on the reins, pulling Firesprite off the trail. The horse, exhausted, at first resisted, then put its head down, picking its way over the shrubbery. Firesprite fought Brianna with every step, but Brianna just held the horse on course. She could see Sebastian was near to the edge of the woods, and she had to get there first.

  She dug her heel into Firesprite hard, something she never did with the horses, and Firesprite sprang forward into a full gallop.

  Instantly realizing her mistake, Brianna sank forward on the horse, trying to avoid the low branches scratching at her. Firesprite’s brown mane flew into Brianna’s eyes, blocking her view, but she could see she was close again to the main trail.

  “Seb.” She screamed again, lifting her head.

  She saw him clearly. For just one moment he glanced her way and she saw it all—rage, betrayal ravaging his face, his entire being a mass of fury.

  And then a tree limb blasted her straight across her chest.

  It ripped her from Firesprite’s back, the limb cracking from the tree as she doubled over it. She floated for the tiniest second and then crashed into the ground.

  Flailing, her body rolling, pain screeching through her limbs, she skidded to a stop on her side.

  Her cheek in the decay of the forest floor, she caught sight of Sebastian’s horse thundering away.

  Away, and away.

  Away until he dropped out of sight.

  And she knew. In that very moment—the moment he vanished—she knew.

  She loved him.

  More than she had ever loved Gregory. More than she had ever loved anything.

  But he had disappeared.

  Gone.

  And she had no one to blame but herself.

  Her eyes closed, words from the past flooding her mind. And she could not fight them away.

  “You will always be unlovable, Brianna. Utterly worthless to walk this earth.”

  ~~~

  Sebastian stormed out of his room at Notlund, clutching a wide leather satchel. The sleeve of a shirt flopped half out from under the top flap of the bag. One shirt. All he needed. And he wouldn’t have even come up to the castle to grab that, had he not needed his papers and notes that were in his room.

  The rest of his things he would have Rowe send, as he would never be back to this place.

  Moving quickly through the stone corridor, Sebastian almost bowled over the duke when he suddenly appeared from a set of side stairs.

  Sebastian attempted to sidestep him without a word.

  “Seb, where are you barreling off to?” Not allowing Sebastian to pass, the duke caught his forearm. “Wait. Where is Brianna?”

  “I do not know.”

  “You have lost your wife so easily?”

  Sebastian ripped his arm from the duke’s hand, stomping away. “Leave me alone, Rowe.”

  “Why?” At his heels, Rowen wasn’t letting him escape. “You have packed to go somewhere?”

  “None of your damn business, Rowe.” Sebastian didn’t break stride, keeping his eyes straight ahead.

  “Where is Brianna, Seb? We need her. Her sister needs to talk to her.”

  Sebastian kept walking.

  The duke grabbed his arm, whipping Sebastian around. “Seb, where the hell is your—”

  Sebastian’s fist went swinging at the duke’s cheek, crushing it at contact. It sent Rowen flying backward, hitting the stone wall behind him.

  Left hand on his jaw, the duke’s right hand clenched, but he held it in check at his side. His glare at Sebastian was deadly.

  “Hit me.” Sebastian dropped his bag to the floor, bracing himself. “Just hit me, Rowe.”

  “I repeat, Seb.” Rowen pushed off the wall, straightening to his full height, his eyes pinning Sebastian. “Where the hell is your wife?”

  “I do not know. In the woods.”

  The duke’s glare went even deadlier. “You left Brianna in the woods?”

  “Yes, I damn well left her in the woods. There are things you do not know about her, Rowe. And I am done with her.”

  “Like hell you are, Seb.” Rowen’s fist made contact with Sebastian’s eye.

  Sebastian flew backward. Blast it. He had forgotten Rowen could hit that hard.

  “You are not done, Seb. She is your wife. Your wife. You made that happen. You bloody well forced that upon her, and now you think to abandon her?”

  Sebastian seethed, pushing off from the wall to part his legs in stance for another blow.

  “What blasted idiocy is this?” The duke moved in on him. “You do not get to just abandon her, Seb.”

  “What I do with my wife is none of your business, Rowe.”

  “It damn well is. More than you will ever know.”

  Sebastian’s eyebrow cocked. “What the hell does that mean?”

  “Nothing.” The duke’s growl eased slightly and he took a step back. “It means that you are a better man than this, Seb. Of all the things I know of you, you are a better man than this. You would never abandon a friend. And you are not about to abandon your wife.”

  “She has a child—a bastard child hidden away, Rowe.”

  “What?”

  “A child—a boy—she has been hiding him from me—from all of you.”

  “No.”

  “Yes.” Sebastian’s arms crossed over his chest.

  A long moment passed with Rowen shaking his head, his eyes to the heavy oak rafters above them. His look dropped to Sebastian. “It does not matter. You are not about to abandon her, Seb.”

  “It damn well does matter and I am bloody well leaving.” Sebastian shoved Rowen to the side of the corridor, barging around him.

  Just as he bent to pick up his bag, the duke’s fist caught the side of his jaw, sending him sprawling, hands on the stone wall to catch himself.

  “I repeat, Seb, you are not about to abandon Brianna.”

  Sebastian could taste the blood flooding his mouth. He looked at the duke. “Why the hell do you even care, Rowe?”

  “Brianna is my sister.”

  “What?” Sebastian reeled, spinning so his back was on the stone, propping himself up. “How?”

  “Both Brianna and Lily—they are my sisters. My father arranged for their mother to marry Wallace Silverton.”

  Sebastian’s head dropped back onto the stone wall, his eyes high on the ceiling. Several heaving breaths, and his gaze fell to the duke. “Do they know?”

  “No.” The duke took a step toward Sebastian. “And I prefer it to remain so. They both loved their father, and he loved them. I do not want their memories of him tarnished.”

  “So that was why you took them in here. Brought them to London.”

  Rowen nodded. “Yes. And that is why I am not about to let you abandon Brianna.”

  Sebastian shook his head, the back of his scalp rubbing on the rough stone. “I have forgiven everything Brianna has thrown my way, Rowe. But this…a child…I cannot forgive a secret—a betrayal—such as this.”

>   “You can.” The duke moved directly in front of him, his eyes determined. “And you will. Whatever happened to Brianna in the past, you will come to terms with it. And you will bloody well go and find her right now.”

  Sebastian’s jaw clenched, sending fresh waves of pain across his face. “I do not need this, Rowe. I do not need the lies. I do not need her.”

  The duke stared at him. Stared at him for several seconds. So long that Sebastian thought about just walking away. But Rowen wasn’t judging—Sebastian could see that.

  Finally, the duke opened his mouth, the slightest smile touching his face. “You do. You need it more than any man I have ever come across.”

  Sebastian sighed, his head tilting. “What the bloody hell makes you think that?”

  Rowen took a step backward, leaning against the wall opposite Sebastian. His arms crossed over his chest.

  “Do you know, Seb, that I had always imagined, one day, I would be sitting at my desk, and a missive would appear. I have always, honestly, been waiting for it. A note that told me you had died, somewhere out there.” His arm swung wide before resettling across his chest. “Only god knows where. And I would wonder whether you were alone at the end, if you were afraid, if it was a relief for you.”

  “That is your reasoning? My imaginary impending death?” Sebastian forced a chuckle. “Your persuasion has a lot to be desired, my friend.”

  “I know it is odd—does not make sense. But you have run from life for as long as I have known you, Seb.” He shook his head. “Then one day you got this crazy idea in your brain that Brianna was the one. Though I scoffed at it—I thought maybe, just maybe. And then what I saw next, after you married her…”

  “What did you see?” Sebastian could not keep the sarcasm from his voice.

  “I saw you still. I saw you stop. I saw you smile and laugh, and not constantly looking over other people’s shoulders to decide where you were off to next. I saw you stop running from life, and start living it.” The duke shrugged. “As inelegant as it sounds, I cannot say it with enough gravity—I saw you genuinely happy, Seb.”

  “But her lies—”

  “We all lie, Seb. Some are big. Some are little. This is a big one. But are you truly going to trade away your own happiness for something that happened well before you knew her?”