Larken (20 page)

“Yes, but let’s talk later.” She tossed the knife onto the desk with a clatter. “Your husband and his brother are in trouble.”

Chapter Thirteen

New Beginnings

L
ARKEN
A
ND
J
OSIE
T
RAVERSED
the warehouse and approached the large open door, where street lamps and the newly risen moon illuminated a broad swath of the floor. Silhouetted against the light were two pairs of men, engaged in swordplay. Although Larken had seen fencing before, this was different. From the expressions on the men’s faces, it wasn’t a contest of skill and strategy, but a fight to the death.

A sheen of sweat covered Brandon’s face as he lunged at Neville. His clothes were marked with rips and red streaks, and the bare wrist above his sword was scored with shallow gashes. Larken bit her lip to avoid crying out his name. His opponent was also bleeding in several places, and was cradling his bloody left arm against his chest. Despite his injuries, however, Neville seemed to be possessed with a malevolent, burning passion to kill Brandon at all costs.

Nearby, Theo was pressing his advantage against Simon, who appeared to be overmatched. Both men had suffered multiple wounds, but Simon was reeling with exhaustion. With a sudden downward twisting movement, Theo disarmed him, sending his épée skittering off into the darkness. Before Larken realized what was happening, Simon charged at her. Her shriek distracted Brandon long enough for Neville to get past his guard. The tip of his épée pierced Brandon in the shoulder, but he countered with downward stroke across Neville’s face. A red gash appeared across the man’s forehead and cheek, and he dropped his sword with a howl of rage. Blinded by blood and pain, he staggered backward.

Simon lodged his forearm across Larken’s throat and he held a derringer to her temple. The small-caliber weapon was ineffective at longer distances, but could kill instantly at point-blank range.

“Get back, all of you.”

Simon gritted his teeth as he spoke, and Larken knew he was a hair’s breadth from pulling the trigger. Brandon started forward, but Simon brandished his pistol in warning.

“I can assure you, this is no prop. Miss Pettigrew and I are leaving now. The ransom note explains how and where the money is to be paid. If you ever want to see her alive again, I suggest you follow my instructions to the letter.”

Suddenly a guttural gasp escaped his lips and Simon’s forearm eased its pressure on Larken’s throat. She couldn’t see what had caused his reaction, but she recognized Hetty’s voice.

“I ain’t hanging for you or no one. Let her go or I’ll send my blade straight through your black heart.”

When Simon raised his arms, Josie reached over and pulled Larken to safety. Brandon rushed over and wrapped Larken in a tight embrace.

“I prayed that you would be all right,” he whispered.

“Get that knife out of my back, Hetty, or I swear I’ll shoot you,” Simon muttered.

“Drop the gun.”

Hetty must have twisted the tip of her knife into his flesh, because Simon’s resulting wince was followed by the derringer clattering to the ground.

“Now get out of here, and if you try anything funny, I warn you I was raised on a farm with seven brothers,” she said. “I can throw this blade better than any of them.”

He edged forward. “You’ll regret this.”

“Says who?”

With a growl of frustration, Simon sprinted for the door. “Come on, Neville!”

The injured man staggered after him as best he could. Larken heard shouting outside, and the sound of footfall.

“Stop, you’re under arrest!”

The police had arrived, but Larken’s relief lasted only a moment. When she glanced up, she could see Brandon was extraordinarily pale. Worse, his shirt was soaked with a spreading red stain.

“Theo! Brandon’s hurt!” she exclaimed.

Theo darted over and eased his brother to the ground. “We’ve got to get him to a surgeon!”

After that, it was Larken’s turn to pray.

When Brandon opened his eyes, dawn was just lighting the windows of his room. As he stirred, his movement seemed constricted and he glanced down to see his torso swathed in a large bandage. In addition, his right hand and wrist were wrapped in gauze and he felt sore all over. He could have been put through a meat grinder for all the attention he paid to his injuries, however, because Larken was sitting in a chair pulled up close to his bed, sleeping soundly. Her golden hair had fallen from its pins and her bloodstained clothes had not been changed from the night before. Nevertheless, she was the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen.
My angel. My wife.

“Larken.”

Almost instantly she was awake, an expression of panic on her face. She leaned forward and reached for his hand. “How are you feeling?”

He focused on the deep bruising on her wrists. “You’re hurt.”

“It’s nothing.”

“Is Theo all right?”

“He suffered cuts and bruises, but he’s going to be fine. You, on the other hand, must stay in bed for a few days while we wait on you, hand and foot.”

His chuckle was followed by a wince of pain.

“Shall I summon the surgeon?” Larken asked.

“No. All I want is you.”

The silken skin of her cheek invited his caress. He answered its call, tracing the contours with his fingertips.

“My life would’ve been meaningless if you’d come to any harm,” he murmured.

Moisture glistened in the corners of Larken’s eyes.

“My misadventure ended well, thanks to you and Theo. The police arrested Simon and Neville, but in the excitement Hetty slipped away.” She shrugged. “Since she saved my life at the end, I’m rather glad.”

“If you’re glad, so am I.”

Larken helped him sip from a glass of water. After his thirst was sated, his eyelids became exceedingly heavy. She was just saying something about her pretend friend Josie when he drifted off once more.

A tender kiss on Brandon’s forehead didn’t seem nearly enough to convey Larken’s sentiments, but since he’d fallen asleep, it was the best she could do. She returned to her own room and asked Nell to bring her hot water for a bath. As she disrobed, the black and blue marks left by the ropes around her arms, wrists, and waist became obvious. Still, her injuries were nothing compared to poor Theo and especially Brandon. Both brothers had come to her rescue in a splendidly gallant fashion…like something from a melodrama.

Strange and wonderful at the same time had been the presence of Josie Wilkes! How she’d happened to be there was still a mystery. After Brandon had collapsed in the warehouse, Larken had focused almost exclusively on him. She’d not thanked Josie for her assistance, nor behaved in any way like she was happy to be reunited with her old friend. It pained Larken grievously to think she might have hurt Josie’s feelings.

After she was dressed, she went to wake Myles. As if shot out of a cannon, he launched himself out of bed and wrapped his arms around her waist.

“Mr. King said you’d be all right, and I believed him.” He was pressed against her so tightly, his voice was muffled by the fabric of her skirt.

“The King brothers are heroes,” she said. “You would have been so proud! They defended me with swords, just like in
The Three Musketeers
.”

He pulled back, clearly puzzled. “What are musketeers?”

“Expert swordsmen who protected the king of France and had all manner of adventures. I’ve seen the book in the library downstairs. If you wish, I’ll begin reading it to you tonight.”

“Yes, please.” He paused. “Is Mr. King badly hurt?”

“The surgeon said he’ll recover, but we must take good care of him.”

“He must love you very, very much to defend you with a sword!”

A warm sensation spread throughout Larken’s body, as if she’d stepped from a chilly cave into the glorious sunshine.

“You know, I rather think he does.”

Her stomach grumbled loud enough for Myles to hear it. He and Larken both burst into laughter.

“There’s an ogre in your tummy!” he exclaimed.

“Yes, I haven’t eaten anything since lunch yesterday.” She ruffled the boy’s hair. “Let’s get you dressed and then we’ll go down to breakfast.”

When Theo entered the dining room, both his hands sported bandages and his cheekbone was purple. In addition, he moved gingerly, as if his muscles were stiff. Although she knew it wasn’t her fault, Larken still felt guilty.

“How is Brandon this morning?” Theo asked.

“He woke up long enough to drink some water,” she said. “He seems to be sleeping soundly now.”

A sigh of relief. “I’m so glad.”

After he got himself breakfast from the sideboard, Theo sat down with his plate to eat.

“I’m sorry you’re injured,” she said.

A chuckle. “Don’t give it another thought. My attempt to dispatch the gigantic ruffian who was guarding the warehouse took a bit more out of me than I’d anticipated.”

“David and Goliath,” Myles said.

“Yes, but in this case, my face was the slingshot.”

“Even with your injuries, you managed to defeat Simon,” Larken said.

“Fortunately, I was more skilled in fencing than he was, but I should’ve disabled him so he couldn’t threaten you with his pistol. I’m awfully sorry.”

Myles’ eyes grew wide. “Fisticuffs, swords, and pistols? That does sound exciting!”

“It’s exciting now that it’s over,” Larken said. “While it was happening, however, it was terrifying. The man who was fighting Brandon—”

“Neville.”

“Yes, Neville. He seemed an uncommonly skilled swordsman.”

A frown clouded Theo’s handsome face. “Indeed he was. We had a lot in common, he and I. We were both classically educated gentlemen who’d fallen from grace. I’m pained to discover he’d fallen further than I’d realized.”

“There is one development that cheered me greatly,” Larken said. “Josie was there last night.”

Theo looked baffled. “Your pretend friend was at the warehouse?”

Myles’ mouth was full of bacon, but he looked equally confused.

“No, the real one,” Larken said. “The pretty girl with the dark hair who cut me free with Hetty’s knife.”

“Oh, you must mean Miss Elysium Fields! She’s an understudy with the company, and a rather plucky young lady, I must say.”

“Elysium Fields is her stage name, then. When I knew her, she was just Josephine Wilkes. I must thank her for what she did for me. Do you suppose she’ll be at the theatre today?”

“No doubt she’ll be performing, if Hetty has disappeared.”

“I should like to go see her, if the new nanny arrives on time.”

Myles chewed and swallowed. “New nanny?”

“Yes, you’ll like Ginny,” Larken said. “She’s an orphan too, like you and me.”