by Eva Devon
Adam wasn't about to sully his flesh grinding that man's face into his bone. So he seized him with both hands, lifted him to his feet, and threw Harrowton to the floor.
A groan tore from the earl’s throat as he scrambled on the stained wood.
"I should crack your head in right now,” Adam threatened, flexing and unflexing his hands. “Felicity is a good young lady and you are ruining her life. You tried to ruin Augusta's, and no doubt you would also have tried to ruin Philippa's, all for your own amusement and your own pleasure."
"I do not find any of this amusing, Your Grace,” Harrowton hissed, “except for the fact that you have been taken in by a prune like Augusta.”
"Augusta is greater than anyone or anything that you could ever understand or know,” Adam declared. “She is a diamond. You are mud. Now tell me where the devil Felicity and Captain Barrow are, or I will indeed bury you in a shallow grave."
"I want more money," the old man said, pushing himself up to a half sitting position.
"Of course you do, and of course I shall give it to you," Adam said coolly. He would tell Harrowton anything at this moment if it meant extracting Felicity’s whereabouts. "I shall not battle with you on that point. Felicity's future is far too important. Tell me what it is you wish.”
Harrowton studied him, looking for some sign of being tricked. Then he licked his lips and rushed, "I wish to have an annual allowance of fifteen thousand pounds."
"Done," Adam said with a shrug as if the amount was nothing. And to him, it was. It was certainly worth Felicity’s freedom and Augusta’s peace. But if Harrowton thought he was going to get away with this, he truly was mad.
Augusta's father blinked. "Done?" he queried.
“Done,” Adam repeated. “There is no question to it. Felicity's future is worth it. Give me the information that I seek now and I will ensure that you get the money that you wish. But if you do not tell me this instant, I shall have you sent to the most heinous outpost on the farthest reaches of His Majesty’s realm.”
The old man nodded quickly. "Felicity has gone to Richmond with Captain Barrow.”
“Bloody hell, man,” Brookhaven burst out. “You would let her marry him, wouldn't you? Your own daughter? Do you know what that man is like?"
"Of course I know,” snapped Harrowton. “I’m the one who found him in a tavern drinking his way through three bottles of gin with four young women about him, playing cards, and fleecing everyone within the vicinity. I discovered his reputation some time ago. Do you think I'm such a fool that I don't do any research at all? I might like my wine and I like my pleasure, but I'm not a complete fool."
Adam wasn't so certain about that. He'd been willing to believe that Adam was going to pay him fifteen thousand pounds a year without so much as a question. Of course, he would arrange for the earl to have a future, but it wasn't going to be the future that the earl imagined for himself.
“You were going to have Barrow blackmail me, no doubt,” Adam said coldly.
"Of course I would," he said. "What is the point of daughters, if not to ensure that their fathers live well?"
Adam swallowed back his disgust. "Expect a visit soon, my lord," he said. "For now, I'm going to go rescue your own daughter from the likes of a man like you."
Harrowton blew out a defiant breath. “If she married a man like me, she'd be bloody well lucky."
Adam knew that there was nothing more he could say, and so he turned on his heel and strode from the room. "Brookhaven, stay with him. Don't let him run."
"Why the devil would I run?" the earl said. "You're going to give me exactly what I wish."
"Yes, and I'm going to give you exactly what I wish too," Brookhaven said as he peeled his gloves from his hands and took a step forward.
Adam didn’t look back as he slipped from the room, ready to save Felicity from the worst of men.
Chapter 36
Augusta leapt down from the coach with the aid of the footman.
With no time to lose, she had heeded Adam’s note to come posthaste to Richmond. Just as her traveling boots met the damp earth, she caught sight of her husband striding furiously towards the ancient church.
She had been certain that he would not let her come, but instead he had insisted upon it in no uncertain terms. It seemed that he was afraid that Felicity might not listen to him and had urged her to join him in rescuing her.
So she raced up the muddy path to the arched doorway. Grabbing her skirts, she kept them out of the way so that she would not trip on her way in. Of course, she would do such a thing in her speed if she was not careful.
Adam, on the other hand, tore across the well-worn paving stones, the tails of his long, dark coat spreading out behind him like a devil's wings. She had to rush to join him.
He stopped for a single moment, met her eyes, and in that instant seemed to convey the deepest hope that all would be well. She nodded to him, willing that his hope be true.
He all but threw open the tall, ancient oak door of the small chapel. His footsteps thundered on the stone and she rushed after him. As he made his way between the pews, he was a sight to behold in his rage.
It was hard to believe that he had been able to find Felicity so quickly, but Augusta was so relieved that he had. It made her heart skip with the fury that it was indeed her father who had arranged everything, but she could not think on that now.
Now, it was a matter of saving Felicity from, she dared say, a fate worse than death. A miserable marriage to a man like Captain Barrow certainly would be such a thing.
Adam tore up the nave and she followed behind him, striding as quickly as she may.
A vicar was droning on, reading from the book, and even while he continued to do so, his voice a mere mumble in the chamber, Captain Barrow in his red coat turned towards them.
Felicity's eyes widened as she too turned. "Whatever are you doing here?" she gasped.
"Saving you," Augusta managed to call out before Adam said, "Barrow, what the devil do you think you're doing?"
Barrow turned to the vicar, his face hard. "Say, I do," he ordered. "We are at the end of the service. Say, I do."
"The devil you may," Adam countered. "I am the Duke of Blackstone, and if you say I do, Vicar, I shall see this living taken from you for the rest of your days and you shall live out your life in pecuniary dismay."
The vicar had the good sense to suddenly look deeply abashed, his cheeks ashen over his ministerial collar.
Clearly, the man knew that something was afoot, and yet here he was performing the ceremony in any event.
As Augusta neared him, she realized exactly why that was. The man reeked of brandy. His nose was purple and his cheeks were veined. It was easy to bribe a man of the cloth these days to do whatever one wished. And in this case, despite the oddity of it, with the special license that Barrow had undoubtedly obtained with the Earl of Harrowton’s approval, the vicar had been easily convinced with a bottle of spirits and perhaps a few coins.
Felicity's face flushed with confusion. "I don't understand. What are you doing here? This was meant to be—”
“An adventurous secret," Adam cut in.
"Yes," Felicity said. "We have been waiting so long and I could not bear it a moment longer."
"You could not wait any longer?" Augusta asked, resisting the urge to chastise her sister. "Felicity, we would have given you the grandest marriage in the most beautiful chapel on our estates, or if you had wished we could have had you married in London. Part of the reason why my marrying the duke happened was so that you would not have to wait too long. Philippa arranged the whole thing."
Felicity's eyes flared. "Philippa did what?"
Adam gave a nod, his eyes alight with determination. "It's true. Phillipa ensured that we were married so that you'd be able to marry this devil, and now here you are running off with him."
"Well, then I am doing exactly as Philippa would have wished,” Felicity defended, clearly perplexed. “I am marrying
him."
Adam cut the distance between himself and Barrow, drawing him back and pinning him so he could not escape. "He's led you in a merry dance, Felicity. I'm deeply sorry for it, but he is not who you think he is. He is a bounder, to be sure."
"He is not,” Felicity protested, tears filling her eyes. “He's the dearest, kindest. He—”
"He is in league with Father," Augusta interrupted, though it broke her heart to do so.
“You jest!”
“I do not,” said Augusta, her whole soul aching for her sister. “Father gave you permission to marry him, did he not? And he and Barrow are rushing this marriage so that Adam will have to give them money. Barrow, my dear, has secret dealings which would be ruinous to us all if discovered. He's a cad."
Felicity shook her head. "That cannot possibly be true, is it?" She looked to Captain Barrow and the look upon his face must've declared it to be true.
Felicity took a step back. "You love me."
Barrow rolled his eyes. "Good God, girls of your ilk are such fools."
"I'm glad to see you're not going to attempt to pretend that this is not how it is," Adam said.
"What's the point?" Barrow challenged. "The deal is done. You're not going to allow us to be married right now, but you will go ahead and you will pay me and Harrowton money to ensure that scandal does not permeate your family."
Adam laughed, "You are mistaken. I don't give a devil about scandal. I do, however, care about Felicity."
"So you'll pay up then," said Captain Barrow, his eyes taking on a slightly panicked but furious sheen. "And I won't have to spend the rest of my life married to an insipid little piece of tart." Felicity's whole body tensed as if he had physically struck her. "You have been lying to me all this time."
Barrow blew out a breath. "Good God, you've read too many novels."
"That is not a possibility," said Augusta firmly. "She's simply a good person, as opposed to you who is a..."
Barrow growled, "Look, either you're giving me the money to ensure that I don't ruin Felicity or—”
Adam gave him a cold grin and put himself between Felicity and Barrow as he cut in, "I am going to send you to the ends of the earth and make it clear what a bastard you are."
But before Augusta could lead with a cry of warning, she spotted Barrow's hand go to his waist, silver flash, and a dagger thrust forward. Barrow jumped back. "You are done. I'm done with people like you thinking they can lord it over everyone and leaving me in a corner with nothing."
Augusta gasped.
This was something that she never could have anticipated.
Adam crumpled to his knees, pulling Barrow down with him. "You think you're going to get away? Think again." He managed to wrench the dagger away from Barrow and then dash it into the captain’s thigh.
Barrow let out a cry of agony and began trying to pull away.
The vicar let out a cry of horror, threw up his hands, and ran down the nave.
Just at that moment, Brookhaven darted into the chapel. He took in the situation before drawling, "Good God."
"Always a moment too late," Adam growled.
“Well, when one is deeply engaged in other appointments,” Brookhaven pointed out. "One can only attack one man at a time." "Excuses, excuses," Adam said, even as he rolled onto his side, his face going a frightening shade of gray.
Captain Barrow attempted to drag himself down the aisle, but Brookhaven grabbed him by the back of his red coat and slammed his head neatly into a pew.
Barrow crumpled to the floor.
Felicity let out of cry of alarm. "I do not understand what is happening."
"You do not have to understand now," Augusta soothed, horrified herself at the turn of events. "I'm so sorry that this has happened to you but right now, we must help my husband."
Adam lay on the floor drawing in harsh breaths as she ran to his side. She knelt down beside him and searched for his wound. His entire waistcoat was soaked in blood.
"I've been a fool," he whispered.
"Yes, you have," she agreed boldly. "How could you—”
"Let him stab me?" Adam teased before he coughed.
"Yes," she all but shouted. "How could you have let him stab you? You are such a capable man and I love you, and I cannot bear to lose you."
He lifted a gloved hand to her face. "Augusta, I am indeed a fool. It is true. I have been driving you away and it has taken being stabbed in the damn stomach to know the truth of it."
"Well, you'd better understand it now because I'm never letting you go again."
"And I, you," he said. "For though it is impossible for me to truly comprehend, I love you. I’ve loved you almost since the moment you ran into me, your gown falling apart, and I have wasted far too much time."
“You’re so bloody stubborn,” she lamented, blinking back tears. “It takes being stabbed to admit it, does it? You're not just saying this to make me feel better before you die, are you?"
He laughed, then grimaced at the pain. "No, Augusta. I'm not saying it to make you feel better before I die and I'm damn well not going to die. I'm too mean for that, I promise you."
"Good," she said, grabbing his hand and holding it as if she could physically hold him in this world. “Keep being mean then. I don't wish to ever lose you."
"And I, you,” he said softly, his gaze searching her face with wonder. “I don't ever wish to hurt someone like I've hurt you again. I've made too many mistakes and I'd like to stop making them."
She stroked his hair back from his face. "We all make mistakes, my love, and will likely keep making them. But at least we can love each other, and maybe one day you'll tell me why it was so hard for you to say this, why you had to be—”
“Made into a pin cushion?" he offered.
"Yes," she said, "to say it."
"I'll tell you," he said. "I'll tell you once we've seen a sawbones and he's put me back together. But I must confess, I'm feeling rather..."
And with that, his eyes closed and Augusta let out a cry of horror.
"No," she wailed, a demand, not just a cry. "You mustn't. You absolutely mustn’t."
And she held him to her, determined never to let him leave her.
Before she knew what was happening, Brookhaven had her by the shoulders and was pulling her away. "We need to get him to a doctor now," he said.
She nodded fiercely. "Take him, then. Take him, but we're coming with you.” And she thanked God that Adam's friend was so strong and able to haul him away, for he carried her heart just then and her heart needed all the help that it could ever possibly get.
Now, as they stumbled through the chapel, she held Felicity to her, knowing that her own sister's heart was breaking and that there was very little she could do about it except be kind. But it was hard in this particular moment, for she was terrified that she was about to lose the man that she loved again, only this time forever.
Chapter 37
"I will murder you myself if you don't wake up."
Adam frowned at those words. They made absolutely no sense. He grimaced at the pain coursing through his limbs. His tongue felt heavy in his mouth but he managed to drawl, "You can't murder me if I'm dead."
A gasp filled the room, and he suddenly felt the pressing of soft lips to his. It was perfection, that touch. Augusta.
He longed to hold her, but he could not make his arms move. Exhaustion poured through him.
"You're awake," she cried before she kissed him softly again and stroked his face.
"Indeed, it would seem so," he agreed. He blinked, his eyes sandy. And there she was. His glorious, remarkable Augusta. He took in her face, studying its plains. Her intelligent eyes were fraught with worry and simultaneously relief as she too studied him.
“How do you feel?” she asked gently.
“I've not been this tired in all my life.”
"Nearly being murdered might do that to one," she replied.
A laugh rumbled through him, and then he groaned a
t the sheer agony of it. "Oh God, woman, don't make me laugh."
"I will. I absolutely will," she said firmly. "Anything to make you stay awake."
"I promise you I'm not going anywhere," he assured, somehow inching his fingers to hers and taking her hand into his.
Damnation, he meant his promise. He was never going to leave her again. How he ever thought he could have managed without her was sheer madness.
She gripped his hand back as though she could hold him here through her own formidable will. And knowing Augusta, with her strength, her will might have battled death back itself.
Fear tensed her beloved features as she licked her lips. “I thought..."
“I might die?" he finished for her.
"Yes," she said, seriously.
The events were a bit foggy, but he could still recall the cold, stone chapel floor. Of her holding him to her. “I told you I wouldn’t die. I warned you I’m too mean."
"I know you said so, but one does get a bit concerned. You went terribly ashen, Adam, and I... I thought..."
"What?" he urged.
Tears glistened in her eyes and she blinked rapidly. “That I would have to live the rest of my life without you, and that I could not bear it."
"I'll never hurt you like that," he said. "Not like that again."
She arched a brow. “You cannot defy death willy nilly.”
“For you?” he growled softly. “Watch me.”
“You promise?” she challenged.
“I promise,” he whispered, his heart so full he could barely speak.
Looking away for a moment, Augusta drew in a deep breath. “I still don’t understand what happened the night of the ball. You—”
"I wish to absolutely explain,” he cut in, squeezing her hand.
"I'm here," she said patiently.
How did he tell her his past, the pain of it? He knew that he had to. And yet...
"May I have a sip of water?" he asked.
She nodded, and he heard the clink of glass and felt the cool touch of water at his lips.
He swallowed eagerly then blinked, taking in his beautiful, remarkable wife, who was not beautiful by the standards of the ton, but there was no woman who shone as brightly as she did, in his opinion.
