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

by K. J. Jackson

  Garek’s hand went into her hair, still wet from the bucket, taking strands and smoothing them as he untangled them from bits of straw.

  “Heaven help me, Lils, your voice—even in screams, has to be descended from Odysseus’s sirens.”

  Lily smiled into his chest. “I have taken a weary traveler and kept him captive?”

  “Something akin to that.” His fingers clenched into her hair. “Tell me you do not regret this, Lils.” His voice was thick, rumbling from deep in his chest.

  Without lifting her head, Lily looked up to him, her heart welling so hard it stole her breath. She managed a whisper. “No. Never.”

  He kissed her forehead, his arm clamping hard around her body. “I give you everything I am, Lils.”

  Grabbing her hand, he flattened it to his chest. “You are mine. You are already my wife here.” He brought her fingers to his forehead. “And here.”

  Curling her fingers around his hand, he brought them to his lips, setting the softest kiss on them. “And in my soul. Never question this.”

  Her heart clenching with wonder, with love, she smiled, meeting his gaze. “Never.”

  { Chapter 10 • Marquess of Fortune }

  “I need to go to the abbey.”

  Walking into the bedroom of the cottage, Lily found Brianna sitting on the bed, her knee touching her cheek as she laced her left boot.

  Lily’s heart skipped a beat. Brianna was in one of the black dresses Garek had brought from Weadly Hall, the top of the back gaping with undone buttons.

  Dressed—Brianna was actually dressed in proper clothes for the first time since she was attacked.

  Lily moved around the bed to Brianna’s side, smoothing stray strands of her hair into the haphazard braid she had quickly weaved in the barn. The end of a piece of hay jabbed into her scalp. Hopefully, Garek had swept off all the hay from the back of her dress. Brianna had always been observant and would be sure to question it if any pieces of hay fell from Lily.

  “The abbey, Bree? Why? Why now?”

  Brianna looked up from the boot. “The memories are coming back of what happened there. But I need to see it. Need to see what is real and what I…what I may be imagining.”

  “What have you remembered?”

  Brianna’s mouth clamped shut, her head shaking. She went back to lacing her boot.

  Stifling a sigh, Lily set her knee on the bed. Brianna was still refusing to tell her anything of what happened. She worked the black glass buttons up the back of Brianna’s wool dress. “Fine. We will go to the abbey. But are you positive you are not too tired?”

  “I will be fine.”

  Dress buttoned, Lily stepped away from the bed. “I will fetch the horse and curricle and bring it to the door so you do not have to walk far. Mr. Sneedly did not take them with him. But we will have to return them to Weadly Hall eventually.”

  Brianna’s head shot up. “Mr. Sneedly was here?”

  “Yes.” Lily forced a smile. “But he is gone now.”

  Brianna stared at her, waiting for more.

  Lily ducked her face, moving to the door before her smile faded. “It should only take a moment. Be sure to put a cloak on, and I will bring a warm blanket.”

  A half hour later, Lily eased the horse to a halt, stilling the curricle in front of the abbey. She glanced to Brianna. Her sister stared at the building, transfixed, her jaw line twitching.

  “Bree, you do not have to do this. Are you certain you would like to go in?” Lily asked.

  Brianna nodded silently, seeming to gather strength. Before Lily could ask one more time, Brianna pushed herself up, stepping down from the carriage.

  Lily hustled down, sidling Brianna closely, ready to catch her if she swayed. But to her sister’s credit, Brianna’s steps were rock solid. Steady and even as she moved to the high arched doors at the front of the abbey.

  “What happened to the corners? Is someone taking it down?” Brianna’s head inclined to the right, toward the corner of the building. The wrecked stones still sat in random piles of rubble.

  “Interesting.” Lily coughed, pulling open the heavy ancient door. She put her hand on the small of Brianna’s back and ushered her into the building. “It does look that way.”

  Dim light through the stained glass windows high on the walls greeted them. Stale air hit Lily’s nostrils as dust floated into the air with their steps. She didn’t want to be in this place. Didn’t want to retrace her steps from that night.

  “Is this far enough?” Lily stopped, watching as Brianna moved deeper into the wide room. Elegant stone arches repeated on the tall outer walls, framing the stained glass, though the gold gilded lanterns had long been stripped from the walls.

  Brianna didn’t stop. “No. This is not where it happened. I know that. I think I know that. It was down below.”

  Lily swallowed hard. Of course Brianna would want to go below. Lily picked up her left foot to follow, ignoring how very heavy her legs had become. What Brianna did not yet recall, Lily had no problem remembering—remembering too well. “It has been cleaned. That was what I was told. It was cleaned.”

  Brianna nodded, moving to the opening on the side of the room where the stairs descended in a tight spiral.

  Her hand going onto the cold stone wall at the entrance to the stairs, Lily braced herself, fighting the wave of nausea that swirled through her body. The last time that she had gone down these stairs…Brianna…Papa…

  Brianna’s heels clicked on the stairs, echoing up to Lily, then suddenly stopped. Lily’s eyes squeezed shut as she gulped air. She couldn’t let Brianna do this alone. She had to go down into the hell below.

  Her feet moving quickly down the spiral stone stairs, she bumped into the back of Brianna as she rounded the last curve. Brianna stumbled forward with a yelp, dropping off the last stair she stood on.

  Quick to follow, Lily caught Brianna’s shoulders before she fell to the ancient stone floor. She pulled her sister upright, realizing that Brianna was already shaking violently.

  Lily kept her eyes solely on her sister, refusing to look around the cellar. Refusing to let the bloody scene resurface in her mind. “Bree, we should go. You are shaking. I do not think you can handle this—not yet.”

  Brianna jerked from Lily’s hands, stepping to the middle of the room. Her voice came out solid, but soft. “I can handle this, Lils. I need to.”

  Folding her arms across her belly, Lily watched as her sister spun in a slow circle, her eyes flickering over every inch of the room.

  “Not you. No. Not you.” The cracking whisper slipped from Brianna’s lips, the words crumbling in the stale air. And then Brianna’s mouth started to move, silent words forming on her lips—fast—yelling—but no sound came from her mouth. Again and again Brianna spun, her eyes glazed, her mouth moving, her forehead crumpled in horror.

  The sight sent Lily’s skin crawling, so she lifted her eyes up, focusing on the two small openings high on the wall across from her that jutted down from the ceiling. The glass long gone from the windows, they offered just enough light to see in the dank cellar.

  Lily stared. Stared at the frozen brown grass along the bottom edge of the opening where the snow couldn’t reach. Stared at the tops of the barren trees.

  As long as she didn’t look down, she could do this. Didn’t look down at the spot where her father was dead, his throat cut wide, blood thick and warm. Didn’t look down at the spot where Brianna sat tied in a chair, bloody, near death.

  No. She shook her head. Eyes up. Eyes up and she could be here for Brianna.

  It was moments before Lily realized Brianna had stopped spinning. Her gaze dropped to find her sister staring at her, fear deep in her eyes. A terror so deep that Lily could see Brianna’s skin quivering.

  “We can go, Lils.” The words slipped from Brianna’s mouth in a raw whisper.

  Lily reached her hand out, and Brianna stumbled forward, taking it, squeezing it so hard Lily thought the bones in her fingers would
snap.

  She dragged Brianna up the stairs, not letting her slip from her grasp. Not that Brianna was about to let her go.

  Without a word, they walked out of the abbey.

  The fresh air enveloped them, and Brianna dropped Lily’s hand and stumbled to the edge of the clearing where the woods started.

  Following, Lily reached for her sister’s shoulders to steady her, but Brianna jerked away. “No. Do not touch me. I need…I need to sit.”

  Her sister slid to the snowy ground, her back ramrod straight, staring at the building. No tears fell from her face. Lily watched as the terror on Brianna’s face morphed, descending into anger. Silent, bitter, ground-shaking anger.

  Lily’s gut tightened, fear pooling at what Brianna would do next. She let a few more minutes pass before she went forward, dropping to her knees in front of her sister.

  “You remember everything, Bree. I can see it.”

  Brianna’s blue eyes drifted from the abbey to Lily. “I do.”

  “What happened to you, Bree?” Lily snatched her sister’s hands, clutching them. “You have told me nothing. What happened to you in there? Who did this?”

  “You do not need to know, Lily.” Brianna’s voice was unnaturally wooden. Even and calm against the anger swallowing her face. “You need to forget it. Forget everything. Forget anything and everything in our lives before this moment. I need you to do that.”

  “But—no. I cannot do that. Why would you even ask that of me?”

  “It is important, Lily. Forget everything. We must move on from here. From this place.”

  “No.” The shout escaped loud from her chest, surprising Lily, but it didn’t stop her from continuing, her pitch rising. “No, Bree. I lost him too. I was the one that found Papa dead. Found you. My hands were on his warm body turning cold—not yours. Mine. It is not fair that you know how…” Her words choked off, but she swallowed hard, forcing air past the rock in her throat. “That you know how he died, but you will not tell me.”

  Brianna’s lips pulled inward, disappearing, her eyes closing as her head fell back. “Do not do this, Lils.”

  “I am demanding this, Bree.”

  Brianna’s eyes flew open, pinning Lily. “It was brutal, Lily. Is that what you want to hear? It was brutal and his blade cut into my flesh and blood flew. Is that what you need to hear?”

  Lily’s head snapped back, stung, but her hands tightened on Brianna’s. “Yes. If it will help you to tell me, to share this burden—whatever has blackened your eyes to where I do not even recognize them—then yes, yes I want to hear.”

  “And I will not subject you to that.” Brianna tugged her hands free from Lily’s grasp and got to her feet. “Papa died trying to save me, Lils. He died because he loved me. That is all you need to know.”

  “But—” Lily scrambled to her feet, following Brianna to the carriage.

  “No. No more, Lily. We will never speak of it again.” Reaching the side of the carriage, Brianna spun back to Lily. “Do you understand? Never again.”

  Lily’s head shook. “It is not fair that you ask this of me, Bree.”

  “I do not care if it is fair or not. I only care that you adhere to my wishes.” Brianna turned back to the carriage, hoisting herself up the iron step and onto the bench cushion.

  At a loss, Lily stared up at Brianna. Her sister had huddled herself into the corner of the curricle, dragging the blanket over her lap, staring at the twitching horse’s tail.

  She looked tiny. Lost. Her older sister—the one she had always depended on, always looked to for strength, for guidance, for everything—shrinking from the world.

  Lily exhaled, her heart sinking. What had she imagined letting Brianna come here would do? Fix everything? Fix her sister? Fix the past? Fix the fact that their father was murdered?

  Silly. A silly hope. She saw that now.

  She should have been more diligent about destroying the abbey.

  Lily stepped up into the carriage, unwrapping the reins from the hook. Without a sideways glance at the abbey, she set the horse forward.

  Halfway back to Widow Thompson’s cottage, Lily looked over to her sister. Brianna had sat in silence, rigid against the carriage bouncing along the rutted road.

  “Bree, I am to marry.”

  Her sister jerked upright, grabbing Lily’s arm. “Marry? Who? What?”

  Lily smiled, trying to calm Brianna’s instant panic. “Garek. We are to have the bans posted tomorrow.”

  “No, Lils. What? No. You cannot. No, no, no.”

  “I realize the timing of it is not desirable, he does too, but—”

  “No.” Brianna screamed the word, shaking Lily’s arm. “You cannot marry him, Lily. We cannot trust him, he will hurt you. You cannot let him into our home, into our lives.”

  “What? Bree, you are being ridiculous.” Lily’s head cocked to the side as she looked at her sister, trying to decipher the sudden madwoman sitting beside her. “Garek has been with us for months—he is already well ingrained into our lives. He has given up his life to help us, to help you. He saved you from death, Bree—from death.”

  “What he has done has no consequence on today. He cannot be trusted, Lily. No. He is a man and cannot be trusted. You must break anything you have with him.”

  “No, Bree. You are absolutely wrong. I love him. Love him like I never thought I could love—completely—every part of me. I trust him unequivocally. And you should too.”

  The shaking of Lily’s arm grew manic. “No, Lily, do not say that. You cannot marry him. I absolutely forbid it.”

  Lily yanked on the reins, stopping the horse and turning fully to her sister. “You cannot forbid anything, Bree. I love Garek, and I will be marrying him as soon as the bans are sufficed. I thought you would be happy for me.”

  “You know nothing of love, Lily.” Her fingers dug into Lily’s arm with more strength than Lily imagined Brianna had. “You are so wrong about this. That man does not love you—he cannot.”

  Lily blinked hard. “Why would you even say that, Bree? This is not you.”

  “You are young and besotted and stupid about this and have no idea what love is, Lily.”

  “And you do? I am the stupid one?” Lily jerked her arm from Brianna’s grasp. “What would you know of love, Bree? Your fiancé disappeared on you—he did not stay to see you well—he did not even attend Papa’s burial.”

  The slap across Lily’s face was instant, the sheer shock of the action delaying the sting of it.

  Brianna’s hand clamped over her mouth. “Lily—I am so sorry.” She grabbed Lily’s shoulders, shaking them, desperate. “Lils—please, I did not mean to—I am so sorry.”

  Her cheekbone throbbing, Lily smacked Brianna’s hands away, turning forward. She flicked the reins, sending the horse forward, her voice hissing. “Do not speak to me, Bree. I cannot imagine what you have been through, so I forgive you. But do not dare to speak to me. Do not. Not now.”

  Brianna slumped into the corner of the carriage, silent.

  Lily tried to quell her heaving breath, quell the fury she wanted to spew at her sister.

  Not marry Garek. Ridiculous. Brianna had no idea what she talked of.

  And in that moment, Lily had no patience to explain to Brianna why she was so incredibly, absolutely wrong.

  { Chapter 11 • Marquess of Fortune }

  Wiping the bleariness from his eyes, Garek stood outside the door to his room at the Twisted Tin Tavern, looking down at the letter he had partially crumpled in his hand.

  He had been woken early the night before to tend to the babe of the blacksmith.

  The wee boy had been on fire with a hacking cough, not giving him room to breathe. Precarious hours had passed before Garek had finally found a way to curb the cough enough for the babe to breathe and bring his fever down. And now it was midday, and Garek was exhausted.

  All he wanted to do was collapse onto his lumpy bed for a few hours and then get to Lily before nightfall, as he h
adn’t seen her since yesterday.

  But now this.

  He scanned the letter that had been waiting for him a fifth time, assuring himself the words were true, and not just his drained mind playing tricks on him.

  Garek—

  I write this bluntly, as the situation deems it a necessity. Your uncle is fading. I fear he will be dead within months if his conditions are not improved. He did inquire as to your well-being. I reassured him that you would return soon.

  —Joseph Tangert

  Garek looked back to the date. Joseph had posted the letter two weeks ago.

  Damn.

  Rubbing his eyes, he stepped into his room, setting his surgical wallet on the table by the door before his fingers left his face.

  With a sigh, he opened his eyes only to find a figure in a black cloak standing in the middle of the room. Lily. His spirit lightened, but then the figure turned to him.

  “Brianna? What are you doing here?”

  Her hands clasped in front of her. “Forgive me for surprising you, but I needed to speak with you in private, Dr. Harrison.”

  Garek’s eyes flickered to his leather satchel in the corner. The top flap was flipped back, the bag wide open to the world. Not how he had left it.

  He looked to Brianna. “Have you been rifling through my bag?”

  She shrugged. “You rifle through my business. I rifle through yours.”

  “Is this about your father’s papers, again, Miss Silverton? I told you, Lily asked me—”

  “Stop.” Her mouth pulled back tightly. “I do not want you to hide behind my sister any longer, Dr. Harrison.”

  Garek’s hand ran through his hair. Lily’s sister was the one thing standing between him and the bed. But he would get no sleep until he dealt with her. “You are here to insult me, then? What do you want, Miss Silverton?”

  “You are wanted for grave robbing in London.”

  “What?” Shock cut through Garek and he staggered a step backward. Sure, he had not left on the best of terms with Dr. Halowell’s son. But he had been the one to walk away from what they were doing. To not dig up the body. And now he was wanted for robbing a grave?