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

by K. J. Jackson

  Sebastian stared at him.

  “Go back and find her, Seb.” The duke stepped forward, patting Sebastian’s upper arm. “Find her. Talk to her.”

  Rowen turned, walking down the corridor, his boots clicking on the stone floor.

  Sebastian watched him disappear into the stairwell.

  Damn that Rowen’s words hit too closely to the truth. Truth Sebastian didn’t want to admit to himself.

  With a deep breath, Sebastian pushed off the wall. Dropping his bag back in his room, he went down to the stables.

  Just as he was approaching the far right stable, a brown mare ambled into the field across from him, going over to munch on a swath of tall grasses.

  Nobody by the horse, Sebastian squinted, trying to see it clearly. It had on a saddle. A sidesaddle.

  His eyes not leaving the horse, Sebastian yelled into the stable closest to him. “Tommy. Tommy.”

  The boy came running, skidding to a stop in front of Sebastian. “Yes, mi’ lord?”

  “That horse.” Sebastian pointed across the field. “Why does that horse have a sidesaddle on it?”

  “Oh, that be Firesprite—Lady Luhaunt took ‘er this morn. First I seen of ‘er since then. I gettin’ right on it, mi’ lord.” Tommy looked up to Sebastian. “Lady Luhaunt is with ye, mi’ lord, right? She’s right good ‘bout carin’ for the horses and findin’ me when she returns. So that be odd.”

  Sebastian looked across the field, trying to control the panicked beating of his heart as his eyes searched the grasses.

  Empty.

  Shit.

  { Chapter 15 • Earl of Destiny }

  Sebastian found the trail Brianna’s horse had forged through the edge of the woods.

  He had heard her in there, screaming his name, her voice echoing through the woods. He had heard her and had kept going.

  Pulling up on the reins, Sebastian stopped his horse, looking in all directions. His heart had not stopped pounding since the stables.

  What the hell had happened to her?

  He had searched every nook along the trail to this spot but had not found Brianna. This was the last area where he knew for sure she was.

  Setting his horse forward, Sebastian followed the trampled underbrush into the woods.

  An hour passed, searching the woods with no luck, when Sebastian set his horse to the stream to drink.

  Then, noise. Thankfully, noise.

  He heard the sobs before he saw her, and he followed them, reaching the high bank of the creek. Desperate, he searched the rocky streamside below.

  Half-hidden behind a wild shrub, the back of her white shirt popped into view. Her riding jacket gone, she sat curled over, shaking with the sobs, her head tucked down and her hair wild, fallen from the pins.

  And then he saw the blood.

  “Good God, Bree. You are injured.” Sebastian jumped from his horse, racing down the bankside to her. He skidded, rocks flying as his hands landed on the back of her shoulders.

  She didn’t look up at him, her body rocking back and forth, words mumbling from her mouth. It took him hearing the repeated words again and again to hear them correctly.

  “Not like this. I do not want to be like this. Not this.” Her mouth rambled, whispering repeatedly.

  Her skirt pulled high and her boot gone, her focus stayed down on the pointed bloody rock she dragged back and forth across the back of her left calf. Digging into her own skin.

  “Not like this. Not like this.”

  Sebastian’s stomach churned when he realized what she was doing. Maiming her own leg. Blood covering every spot of her skin.

  He snatched her wrist, ripping the sharp rock from her hand and whipping it into the stream.

  “What the hell are you doing, Bree?” He grabbed her ankle, dropping to his knees as he pulled her leg away from her body so he could look at it. Fingers running along the back of her calf, he tried to discern open wounds from seeping blood.

  Her blue eyes, wet with tears but vacant, moved up, finding his face. Finding his face but not truly seeing him. “Not like this. I do not want to be like this.”

  Her right hand was already searching for another rock. Finding one, her body jerking in sobs, she bent forward, going after her calf once more.

  He smacked the rock out of her hand, hard, sending it flying. “Dammit, Bree. Like what? What the blasted hell have you done to yourself?”

  Before she could move again, Sebastian stood, picking her up and setting her none too gently at the edge of the water. He grasped her leg, thrusting it into the water to wash away the blood.

  Anger so thick ran through him that he didn’t trust himself to not injure her further. He looked up at her face. “Why in the hell would you do this to yourself, Bree?”

  “I just want it all to be gone, Seb.” Her voice came out small, a wooden whisper. “Gone. I do not want to be like this anymore.”

  “Like what?” Sebastian’s attention stayed on her leg in the water, his hands running up and down it, clearing all the blood. Dammit. Five major gashes and numerous smaller ones. But thank the heavens the blood had made it look worse than it was.

  His initial panic quelled, he looked up to Brianna’s face, fury that she would do this to herself peaking. She sat, hands in her lap, palms up, her shoulders slumped in defeat. Broken. Completely broken. The sobs had ceased, leaving only an ashen shell of his wife.

  It tempered his rage. He forced his voice even. “Like what? You do not want to be like what, Bree?”

  “Not able to tell you. Not able to trust you. To have to control everything. When I cannot…I cannot even control myself.” Her eyes dropped down to her leg. “The scars. I want them gone. Gone. I do not want them anymore, Seb. I do not want what they do to me.”

  “Tell me what I can do, Bree. You need to trust me to help you.”

  Silent, her eyes stayed on her leg.

  Sebastian wanted to move to her, to hold her face, to demand answers, to shake her until her eyes lit up and she spit fire at him. But he did not trust her enough in that moment to not pick up another rock. To not mar her own body even further.

  He stayed where he was, the water soaking through his boots, her leg cradled in his hands.

  “Brianna.”

  “I see…I know what a fine man you are, Seb. How you take care of me.” Eyes downcast, she took a quivering breath. “But you do not know what it takes…what I have to overcome to be with you…to trust you.”

  “Tell me, Bree. Just speak the words. There is nothing left to do but that.”

  Her blue eyes flew up to him, sudden panic crossing her face. “He is not my child. The boy. Harry. You need to know he is not my child.”

  Sebastian froze. “But I heard him say ‘mama.’”

  “No. Nama. You heard him say Nama. It is what he has always called me—his mother died a month after he was born, so I was like his mother in his early years and I allowed it—he could not say Brianna, so that is what he called me. I know I am not his mother, but he needed one so badly.”

  “Who is he?”

  “He is the viscount’s son.”

  “Viscount Friellway? Why did you not just tell me? Why did you sneak off?”

  “Why…why…” Her eyes went to the sky. “You cannot imagine what I have had to forget in order just to be near you, Seb. The position I have had to force myself into.”

  “Dammit, Bree, I will fight a hundred—a thousand demons for you, but I do not know what they are—what to fight. You need to tell me.”

  She took a deep breath, her gaze dropping to him, and Sebastian could see sanity return to her eyes. See her pull away from the very dark place her mind was suffering when he found her.

  “It is time, Bree. You need to tell me. Trust me.”

  “You left me.”

  “I came back. I am sorry. I was furious. Done.” He dared to set her leg down, letting the water run over it. He moved toward her, settling on his knees as his hand went to the side of her face.


  “But I was not back to the castle for ten minutes before I realized I was an idiot.” His forefinger rubbed against her temple. “Whatever you have in here, whatever it is—you need to trust me with it, Bree. I will not leave you again. Will not repeat idiocy. I swear it. But you have to tell me, Bree—what the hell is going on?”

  Her head shook against his words. “Why did you find me, Seb? Why could you not just leave me?”

  “I love you, Brianna.”

  Her eyes went wide with a slight gasp, disbelief clear. She studied him for a long moment, and Sebastian accepted it in silence.

  Whatever it took for her to believe his sincerity. He did love her. What had begun as lust—as fate calling him—had without a doubt, turned into love.

  He watched as her face ran through emotions—shock, wonder, landing on softness, and for a moment—one tiny moment—he thought he saw love.

  But then she blinked, her face turning hard.

  She pulled away from him, tugging his hand from her face. “This is not your problem, Seb. I did not want to involve you. I did not want to put you in danger. And now—” She hiccupped a breath, her words cut. She had to swallow hard to continue. “Now you say that to me. I could not involve you before, and now it is even more so that I cannot tell you.”

  “Dammit, Bree, do not—”

  “Not knowing what was happening was the only reason I was left alive.” Her voice arced into a yell as she cut him off. “I will not put you in that danger, Seb. I watched my father die because of this. I almost died because of this. Lily does not even know, and neither can you…I cannot…I cannot lose you.”

  Sebastian’s head fell. He tried to draw up reasoning, draw up anything that would make Brianna see the reality around her.

  She was not alone. Not anymore. And she damn well needed to tell him what was going on.

  His head lifted, and he studied her blue eyes. “Brianna, that fortune teller, what she said to you—I always thought it was your head that was stopping you—keeping you from me. But I see it now. It is your heart. You heart is what stops you.”

  He ventured to bring both of his hands up, capturing her face. “This is the time, Bree. You need to let your heart lead. You need to trust me enough to tell me what is happening. Trust me enough to take care of you—take care of myself. I cannot protect you if I do not know what I am protecting you from. What I am protecting myself from.”

  It took the longest moment, her eyes not leaving his, for her mouth to open. “I did not tell you about Harry…” Words faltering, she took a deep breath.

  Silent, Sebastian dragged his thumb across her cheeks, wiping away fresh tears.

  “I did not tell you because the last time I trusted someone—loved someone—he almost killed me.” Her voice crept out, tiny.

  “Gregory?”

  She nodded. “And then he killed my father. I loved him—I was going to marry him—and he…he tortured me…cut me.”

  “Hell, Bree. The scars?”

  “He was after Harry. Sent to kill him.” Her eyes dropped to his chest, her voice a whisper. “It was through me. All of it. It was how Gregory got into our lives, into the viscount’s house. It was through me. He convinced me he loved me. He was in our home all the time. He ate at our table. Drank port with my father and the viscount. Again and again. And I never suspected. Never. I was so stupid.”

  Her eyes came up to Sebastian’s. “Gregory was the one that killed the viscount. Papa saw him come from the viscount’s room, bloody knife in hand. Gregory was going into Harry’s room, but Papa scared him off. Papa woke me up with Harry in his arms. He knew I could ride. Ride fast. He told me to take Harry and go to the village, wait in the back of the church, let no one see us. We waited, Harry and I. We waited all night until Papa came to us. Then he sent me back to the estate and moved on with Harry. He only said that Harry was in danger. And Harry was so little then—so little. He had just started to walk, talk. I knew that Papa had hidden him away, far from the estate, but I did not know where. When he came back, he told me, told Lily to never speak Harry’s name again. But he did not tell me who had killed the viscount, who was after Harry, only that it was a man. If only—if only he would have told me.”

  “Why did he not tell you?”

  “Why did he not tell me?” Her eyes flew to the sky, head shaking. “To spare my feelings? To protect me? I do not know. If only he had told me immediately that the man was Gregory. I never would have walked into that deserted abbey.”

  Her head slowly fell, her look glazing over. “I was so sad that day. It was after the viscount’s funeral, and I missed Harry, and I was so sad. I had not seen Gregory in days—I missed him so much and was wondering where he was. The abbey was where we would meet, Gregory and I. So that was where I went. I would not have gone…Gregory was hiding in there and he thought I knew where Harry was. He tied me down, and he had the knife and…he…he…”

  Her left leg jerked.

  “You do not need to say the words, Bree.”

  She swallowed back a sob, and Sebastian could see the horror of the memory filling her head. Her eyes shut tight, tears still escaping as her head trembled between his hands.

  “I did not understand what was happening. Hours. Hours of pain. Hours of his words, his viciousness, tearing at me. Hours before I understood what was happening. He would cut me and ask. Make me scream and ask. Even then, I did not believe it. That he had never loved me. That the sight of me sickened him. I could not believe it. And I could tell him nothing—I knew nothing of where Harry was, but it did not stop him. To the very end, I could not believe what was happening—I loved him. He loved me. But it was a lie. A lie. All of it. Every moment we had shared was replaced with hours of his knife…of pain. What he said. And then Papa found me. He tried to save me, he came in—”

  A sob escaped, cutting her words.

  His heart breaking for the terror his wife had suffered, Sebastian’s hands went down around her shaking body and he pulled her close, holding her head to his chest.

  “Papa shot him—the bullet hit his eye and Gregory dropped. But it did not kill him. Papa had turned to free me, and Gregory attacked him from behind. I was still tied down. He slit Papa’s throat in front of me. And then he disappeared—stumbled out of the abbey.”

  “He did not try to kill you as well?”

  She took a deep breath, steadying herself. Her voice became the tiniest bit stronger. “No. For the longest time, I did not understand why he did not kill me. I thought it was his wound that made him leave, but then I realized after he killed Papa, I was his only connection to where Harry might be. I was the one that took Harry away from the estate, even though I did not know at the time where Papa brought him.”

  She wedged her head upward to look at him. “That, Seb, that was the only reason I survived—I did not know where Harry was. Through the torture, it was the only thing that saved me. Had I known, I would have broken—I would have told him, and he would have killed me. And then he would have found and killed Harry. That is why Lily knows nothing of this—and can never know—it may be the only thing that saves her. No one can know. It is why I did not want you to know.”

  Sebastian’s hand clamped onto the back of her head. “Dammit, Bree. You have hidden all of this from everyone? Lily, the duke, Wynne, me? This is madness, Bree. Sheer madness.”

  She pushed back from his chest, her eyes on fire. “Is it, Seb? Is it? Gregory is still out there. Still in the woods, in the towns, in the fields. Still everywhere. How else am I to protect Harry? Lily? And I have not—for one second—not been afraid he would appear. Appear and tie me down…the only difference is that I know this time—I know where Harry is, and I do not think I could suffer his knife again…the pain…not without breaking. And if I break, then I am helping him to murder an innocent little boy.”

  “But to not ask for help—”

  “You may think my decisions stupid, Seb, but has someone you loved—more than life—ever di
ed in front of you? Taken their last breaths before you?”

  “No.”

  “I was bound to that chair, Seb. Watching my father look up at me. Blood seeping from his neck. His eyes—his beautiful blue eyes—to the very end, telling me all would be well—that I would survive. And I could not go to him. Could do nothing. Could only watch the last breath leave his body. Watch his eyes flicker out, still fixed upon me, even in death.” She swallowed hard and had to force her next words out. “You do not know the horror of it—what you would give to never have to feel that pain again. But I do. So do not judge what you think are misguided decisions, Seb. I have only done what I needed to. I am never going to feel that pain again.”

  “Bree, you should not do this alone.”

  “Who then, Seb? Who? Who should I set in harm’s way for my own gain? Lily? The duke and duchess who have taken us in and very generously given Lily the life she wanted?”

  “Me?”

  A sharp intake of breath, and her head shook instantly, horrified. “No. Not you, Seb. I could never forgive myself if…”

  He grabbed her head in a growl. “Stop, Bree. Stop your damn mind. Stop trying to see into the future and fight it—protect everyone from it. Nothing is going to happen to me and you damn well need to start trusting me as your husband. Trusting me to protect you.”

  Her hands came up, gripping his wrists. “But this is not your problem, Seb.”

  His palms moved down, cupping her face. “Are you my wife, Bree?”

  She nodded.

  “Then it damn well is my problem.”

  A shuddered breath, and her eyes closed to him. She was still resisting him. Still unable to let him protect her.

  Sebastian let his hands fall from her face. “There must be others that can take care of the boy, Bree. Others that can keep him safe.”

  “There is not. And I am not about to sacrifice an innocent child, Seb. I love that boy. We were a family—we are family—why would I not protect him?”

  “There is not an uncle, a cousin?”