Bronwyn Scott's Sexy Regency Bundle (254 page)

Chapter Eleven

T h e

was spreading

Soon the

and smoke would reach the unprotected villagers caught between the oncoming Ottoman army
and the burning remains of their homes.

and unsuspecting, women and children had run into
the night, giving no thought to where they ran,
thinking only of immediate escape from the scorching inferno that consumed their village.

A child fell. A woman screamed. The carnage of
Turkish retribution had begun. Under the cover of
darkness,

did what he could toprotect a few
of them. In the heat of battle, who could say with any
certainty that it was he who had killed an Ottoman
soldier or a Phanariot revolutionary
desperately with whatever weapons were at hand?

Through stealth and a warrior's skill, Valerian
made his way toward the burning huts, yelling her
name.

all, he'dpromised Dimitri he'd do what
he could. The smoke sucked the very breath
his

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The Viscount Claims His Bride

lungs, rendering his voice hoarse,
licking

dry the cold

his body. Someone cried out

his name, barely audible above the roar
and

the screams of panic.

Valerian turned towards the sound. There she
was, as foolish, as

as

a

in one

hand, her eyes wild, holding off two soldiers, using
her body as a shield to protect the three children with
She did not stand a chance.

she was lucky, the

soldiers would cut her down before realising what
a prized prisoner she'd make, sister to one of the
Phanariot leaders. She

She'd not

asked for any of this. She 'dpleaded with her brother
to take the peaceful surrender the Ottomans had
offered.

Valerian hefted his

and

his other

He would need them both along with speed
and

He began to run, issuing a hoarse roar
with the remnants of his voice. It was enough. The
soldier closest to him looked in his direction.

Valerian threw his

taking the man in the throat.

He covered the distance, leaping over the fallen
man's body, and made quick work of his comrade.

His hands were soaked in blood, but he took no
time to wipe them off Fire was his biggest enemy
now. 'Help the children. Give me the baby,' he yelled
hoarsely over the flames to Natasha, who had
already grabbed the oldest child's hand so as not to
lose him in the tumult. The girl gave him the baby
she'd so diligently cradled and took Natasha 's other
hand. Valerian put the baby in his
arm, leaving

Scott

his

hand free. He needed it twice before they
gained the dark sanctuary of the forest.

The horrors of the night were not
burst into their safe harbour; skewering Natasha in
the side with a wicked curved blade. The beautiful
young woman fell. Valerian charged like a bull,
taking one man down by sheer force, his blade
ripping into him in retribution. He fought like the
devil

stabbing, slicing, killing, aware only
briefly that the boy had picked up Natasha 's blade
to help him. When he was done, the ground ran red
from his

the last Ottoman

slain

his beserk rage. But some time in the
the boy

had fallen too and lay deathly still not far from
Natasha. He had failed Dimitri. One of the children
was already dead.

He pushed down his grief and crawled to
Natasha's side. She lived yet, but it would be only a
momentary condition.

He took her hand, feeling her clutch at it with a
last mad strength. 'Save the children.' She gasped.

'Find Dimitri.' Then her eyes widened with terror:

'Val, behind you.'

He had the disturbing sensation this had all
happened before. He was losing her again. She
better than a bloody hand holding her own
as she slipped away. He wouldn't lose her: He called
her name. No, not the darkness. He didn't want the
darkness, not yet. He hadn't saved the others. He
wasn't ready.

Valerian woke in a sweat, his head throbbing, his body trembling. Breath choked in his throat. Bile

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The Viscount Claims His Bride

rose. He groped blindly for the bowl next to his bed, set there in anticipation of just such a purpose, and retched until the trembling subsided.

The dream again; the night in Negush that he never wanted to relive, but seemed doomed to do so.

Valerian steadied himself, drawing deep breaths. It was the

time

had the nightmare since re-

turning home.

Valerian threw back the covers and got out of bed, slipping into a robe. He lit the lamp, knowing he wouldn7 t sleep again that night. The fear of the dream coming back was too real. He couldn't do anything about the dream, but he could

the head-

ache.

Valerian poured himself a glass of water from the carafe on the bedside table and rummaged in the drawer, looking for a small vial. He pulled the stopper and put a few drops into the glass. He drank it down and sighed with relief. In twenty minutes, his headache would numb to a dull throb thanks to his special herbal potion. He went nowhere without it. Until then,