Light to Valhalla (2 page)

One

October 3
, 181
3

London, England

The vibrant red uniform blazed against the crisp white snow falling around
Coverstone
House
.
Charlotte
Rawlings froze
in
a mixture of shock and horror
, staring agape at the rider cantering up the
unseasonably
snowy cobbles
.
An emerald earbob dropped from her hands
as she flew to
the
second story window
, gripping the pane until her knuckles hurt.

“Blast!
”
The unladyl
ike oath spurned from her mouth
.
The soldier
could
not
be her husband! 
Please, God, a
nyone but
him
.
Her
heart beat in frantic cadence
, matching
the midnight black
steed’s
churning legs
.
She could almost hear the
rumble of hooves, but alas it was o
nly
the
rush of
blood in her ears
.

Charley
studied
t
he
figure
,
search
ing for any indication he
was
some
one
other than
Alex
ander
Rawlings, the Marquis
Coverstone
.
Dread filled her heart
.
Th
ere was no mistaking
the powerful confidence with which the Lord
Major
carried
himself
.
Even
at this distance
the jaunty set of his broad shoulders, the span of his incredibly sturdy chest,
and
the way his t
orso tapered into a trim waist
were obvious indicators of his identity
.
T
he provocative cloy of his trousers against thickly muscled
thighs
was enough to make her gulp
.
A
stride the sleekly
muscled
Andalusian
he called
Letty
t
he
marquis
appeared quite the
warrior
to be reckoned with.

Charley
groaned, resting her foreh
e
ad against the chilly windowpane
.
“
Well, Willy,” she glanced down at the reddish brown dachshund waiting dutifully
beside
her feet
.
“
It is him.”

Willy whined in response, f
idgeting
on short
front paws
.

Grudgingly
Charley
admitted s
he should
not be surprised, he
r husband
was long overdue for a visit
, next week would mark three years
since last he was home
.
Her hands trembled violently
.
T
h
e arrival
set into motion
all the
pressures and expe
ctations
suspended in perpetual lim
bo
.
The moment the marquis stepped through the door
an explosive scene would undoubtedly
unfold.

“You are a disgrace to the house of
Coverstone
.
”
The chastising words of her mother-in-law
,
Regina
Rawlings
,
echoed through
Charley
’s mind
.
“Your duty to Lord
Coverstone
, my son, is to provide an heir
.
You are not wort
hy of the title you hold until a son is produced
.
Veronica
Childers
would have provided an heir by now
.
Mark my words,
Charlotte
,
she
should be marchioness.
”

Charley
underwent almost daily comparison to Lady Veronica… the woman
Alex
actually
loved
.
“I am certa
in the accomplishment of such a
task is impossible given his l
ordship
’
s absence,”
Charley
always replied
, a painfully polite smile trained on her lips
.
“Lord
Coverstone
’s
service to the crown is invaluable and of the utmost importance.”

“A suitable wife would have conceived on the wedding night.”

The marquis dismount
ed
before the main steps, moved to the head of his horse, and looked straight up into her window.

“Oh!
”
She whirled from his piercing gaze
.
Hatred
poured from
his
smoky blue
eyes,
chilling her to the bone,
though
who could blame him after
their farce of a weddi
ng three years before
.
“Why could he not have come thirty minutes later?
”
She peered around the heavy curtain, praying
Alex
would no longer be within view
—funny she should still think of him as
Alex
, he was hardly the same b
oy she’d adored
as a child
.
Even
Lady Carmichael’s
dinner party
would be preferable to
an evening in the company of her husband and
the
dowager marchioness
.
Perhaps she could feign illness and spend a
night
of
solitude with a new book
.
She’d recently purchased three.

She glanced contemplatively toward the silver bell pull
.
If she claimed a headache
Henrietta
would brew up a pot of her special tea—the mixture smelled of dirty socks, but never failed to put one straight to sleep
.
“
Except that
I’m no coward,” she murmured, squaring her shoulders
.
Alex
could be dealt with now or in the morning
.
Either way the confrontation must
go forth
.
If she
met him now at least some of the servant’s gossip would be avoided.

Dutifully
Charley
moved to the door, preparing for the
momen
t
she would
descend the stairs
,
and
welcome her husband home
.
The bland,
demure smile
she’d perfected over the years
proved
just beyond reach
.
Husband
.
The word tasted a
lie whenever it touched her tongue
.
E
ngaged to the title
Marquis
Coverstone
sin
ce the age of three
her intended had be
en Richard Rawlings,
Alex
’s
eldest brother,
for
eighteen
years
.
Through an entirely bizarre and tragic sequence of events three of four sons met an untimely demise; and she’d been married off to the remaining heir before any such harm could befall him
.

Friend
s and
acquaintances
alike gushed over her good fortune
a
nd while
Alex
was sinfully handsome, and a decorated soldier,
Charley
would
h
a
r
dly
call their happenstance sham of a marriage good fortune
.

Charley
tossed Willy a pleading glance—s
he would swear the dog cocked his head
in
silent
empathy—
and opened the door
.
The morphed intensity of the household
engulfed
her
the
moment she
reached the top of the stairs
.
For a moment she stilled, hidden behind the pillar adjoining the mahogany balustrade
.

At the foot of the stairs a harried crush of servants filled t
he front hall
.
“Welcome home, m
ilord.
”
Hastings, their towering gray haired butler
,
stood at the forefront of the mob
.
“
We did not receive word of your arrival
,
or I would have prepared a much more formal reception
.
You ha
ve my deepest apologies
.”

Lord Major
Coverstone
s
hifted
, power and authority emanating
from his massive, militaristic form
.
“
It's
fine, Hastings, I did not send word of my arrival ahead.
”
His deep, booming
tenor
echoed through the house
.
A rigid gaze swept the
hall, t
he mass of servants parted as
the red sea
.
“If you’ll excuse me
I would
like to retire to
my private study and
rest a spell.
”

“Certainly, my l
ord.
”
Hastings bowed his head
.
“Shall I order tea and refreshments?”

“Coffee will be all.
”
The major
clipped without a backward glance
.

Charley
shrank further behind the pillar
as the marquis marched past
the sweeping staircase,
she could not
tear her gaze from the intimidating figure
.
He was bigger than she remembered, bigger and much more beastly
,
with the look of a lean wolf about him
.
A notable limp hindered his stride,
adding to the aura of danger shimmering around him
.

Charley
waited for the servants to dissipate before drawing a shaky breath and slipping clandestinely down the
red
-carpeted
stairs
.
An eerie
silence
settled over
the hall
and
the sharp tap
of her heeled shoes reverberated
off the walls
.
R
ather
like marching oneself into a dungeon
.
Loneliness cascaded over her in waves
.
Who was she kidding?  This place was a dungeon
.
Convulsively she gulped
, and rapped softly on the study door.

“What?”

She jumped at the terse response and slowly opened the door
.
“Welcome home, my lord
.
”
She stepped
into the study
, and may ha
ve curtsied if not for the decidedl
y bizarre scene meeting her gaze
.
Alex
stood across the room, violently shaking the cabinet.

“Just open
damn it
.
Open.
”
He jerked and tugged
on a
side
panel adjacent to
the
hinges.