Dawson Bride (Wolf Brides Book 3) (2 page)

Lucianna

I paused on a break in the stairwell. A window stretched from floor to ceiling and the cool evening night beckoned me. Fog had floated in while I’d been stalling and it gave the darkness an eerie look. A fitting evening to match the shackle that would be placed on my finger.

Bryant slipped his tiny hand into mine. “I don’t want you to marry him. We can run away and I’ll protect you.”

I smiled at the top of his dark hair. I couldn’t see his face but I knew only seriousness dwelled there. “I know you would.”

“Mother says I can’t eat with the adults tonight.”

My gaze drifted to the thickening fog again. I squeezed his hand and said, “It’ll be terribly boring. If anything interesting happens, I’ll tell you all about it before you go to sleep. I promise.”

“Lucianna?” Father sternly asked.

Bryant watched me descend the stairs with sad, dark eyes. I couldn’t look back at him anymore if I wanted to keep my nerve. Ralston stood in the entryway flanked by two men I didn’t recognize. They wore suits of dark material but the quality didn’t match his. Ralston wore black silk and removed his top hat before he gallantly bowed. His eyes, as always, were empty. Raven black hair brushed his collar and the color of his eyes was a dusty hazel that seemed to change color depending on what he wore. Tonight, they were greenish. The smile that curved his lips was forced, like some actor who didn’t like the play he was performing. His gaze raked over every inch of me and a chill lifted gooseflesh on my arms.

“Lucianna,” he said as he bent forward and pressed his cold lips against my hand.

“Good evening, sir,” I said with a slight curtsy.

He offered his arm and I touched the crook of it lightly. His men followed closely behind us and the hairs rose on the back of my neck. When I turned, they were looking at each other with an unfathomable expression. Expectation and excitement mixed into their panther smiles.

After I was seated in a chair directly across from Ralston, he slid a black velvet pouch toward me. “I thought we could get this out of the way before we eat.”

The air became thicker until I could barely draw breath. Until I opened it, my reality was just a bad dream.

Slow fury burned over Ralston’s features at my hesitation. “Open it,” he said through gritted teeth.

Blast my hands as they shook when I reached for it. As I upended it, a diamond engagement ring fell into my palm and shimmered in the chandelier light.

“Put it on,” he demanded.

“Lucianna,” Father warned. His downturned eyebrows said I needed to work harder at the farce.

I slid the ring onto my finger and said, “My sincerest apologies, sir. It’s just such a big moment for me. I wanted to savor it.”

Ralston tipped his chin up and the fury in his eyes cooled. His smile didn’t quite reach the rest of his face as he said, “I’m sure you can understand my anticipation of our wedding, Lucianna. I’ve wanted you as my wife for some time now. I’m not used to waiting, you see.” His heated look landed on Father.

The servants brought bowls of thick broth and I sipped it like it was the most interesting thing in the world. Ralston’s gaze never left me.

“So, Ralston,” Mother said. “Lucianna’s told me you will be settling in London near your businesses. Have you already a house there?”

His spoon clinked against the fine china plate beneath the bowl and he wiped the corners of his mouth with a silk napkin. “I’ve actually decided to expand my business. I’m sure you know I’m originally from America and I plan to set up my home there while I get our international relations off the ground. Do you think you’d like to live in America?”

My heart fell to the earth beneath the house. “No.”

Ralston’s face turned to stone. “I’m sorry?”

I cleared my throat and spoke clearly. “No, I wouldn’t like to live in America.”

Father smashed his hand against the table and we all jumped.

Ralston put a calming hand up. “And why not?”

“Americans are crass and ill-mannered. When they aren’t in a war with Indians for their lands, they’re warring with each other.”

His smile was slow and chilling. “Well, I’m sure when you’re busy with your wifely duties, you won’t have much time to worry about such trivial things as where you live. You’ll be working too hard keeping me happy to have opinions of your own. So long as you keep your pretty face and figure, that’s all I require from you.”

The room had gone still and silent.

I dropped my eyes from the storm brewing in his and tilted my head. Mother wasn’t looking at me or Ralston. Instead, she was glaring at Father.

Her voice held the quiet rage that would rival an impending avalanche. “If you won’t speak against the abuse said to your daughter in your own house, then I will.” She slid a narrow-eyed glare to Ralston. “You’ll not be marrying any daughter of mine. I’ve heard the tawdry things you’ve said to her and turned my head thinking you’re wealth and prestige give you a realm of leniency on such things. Upon further thought and seeing how you speak for myself, I’ve come to the conclusion the prestigious don’t get the blanket of such an excuse. You should be held to a higher standard. I’m sorry Mr. Bastrop. You simply aren’t good enough for our daughter.”

My mouth was hanging open and I closed it with an audible
clack
. Overwhelming pride filled me as my mother stared that animal of a man down. Father seemed to be in a speechless rage if the purple color of his face was anything to go by, but hang it. Mother had just catapulted herself to heroine status in front of my very eyes.

Ralston’s lips twisted into something akin to a snarl and he looked at one of the men in the corner of the room and nodded. A shiver of fear skittered across every vertebrae in my back as a hundred incomprehensible things passed between them in a breath. The man left and Ralston picked up the spoon and slurped his soup. If a pin dropped in here, everyone could’ve heard it.

“My dear,” he said. “I thought you knew I always get what I want. Your abhorrence for an engagement with myself has only made you a more attractive conquest to me, I’m afraid. You were alluring, and mysterious, and hard to get, until this moment. Now, I’ve lost interest in the chase. My ring is on your finger, and while I won’t drag you screaming to the alter, I won’t have visions of another man in your bed to haunt my sleep either. I have an engagement gift for you.”

One of the servants came in holding a silver platter with a letter. Why did that simple linen envelope put such fear into my heart?

Ralston gestured with a twitch of his fingers. “Open it.”

I opened it and read out loud.

Run.

My fingers froze into clawed things around the letter. He stood and threw his napkin over his soup bowl.

My voice trembled. “Where are you going?”

He made a show of straightening his suit jacket and sleeves. “I’ve come to the realization that I don’t really like the sight of blood or the sound of shrieking, so I’m going to leave before the festivities begin.”

Mother snatched the letter from my hands. “What is the meaning of this? Have you made a threat upon our house?”

“Not a threat, my dear almost-mother-in-law,” he said as five men filed into the dining room with readied pistols. “A promise. Save Lucianna for last. Show her what it means to try and double-cross a Bastrop.”

“Lucianna! Run!” Mother screamed as the first shot rang out.

Father fell and still, I stayed frozen to my chair.

“Go on, little chicken,” a man with a beard and heartless eyes said. “You ain’t gonna make this any fun if you just sit in that there chair all night.”

I couldn’t see Mother anymore in the mass of bodies and pistol smoke. I turned with an anguished noise and ran from the dining room. The men’s laughter followed right behind as I ran for the front door.

“What’s happening?” Bryant asked from the top of the stairs.

The handle of the front door turned slowly and lanterns swayed outside through the window panes. Bryant would never make it down in time to escape them, so I lifted my skirts and charged up the stairs as fast as my legs could carry me. I grabbed my brother’s hand and yanked him into the furthest room down the hall. The study wasn’t big, but we’d discovered something interesting about it years ago. The lower half of the walls were covered in decorative paneling and one of them came loose. There was a hidey hole on the other side and if Bryant and I could just get in there, we’d be safe.

“Where’s Mother and Father?” Bryant whimpered as I clawed frantically at the side of the rust-colored panel.

“Shhh! They can’t help us now. Help me with this.”

Bryant’s smaller fingers found purchase and wedged the side out. I pulled it and shoved him inside. When I was in with him, I pulled the hand grips on the inside of the panel and tugged it back into place. Intricate designs had been carved into each decorative piece and ours was no different. We scooted as far back into the tiny space as we could. If we got lucky, they’d scan the room, figure we weren’t here and move on. Maybe they’d eventually give up.

I cradled Bryant into my side and stroked his hair. His eyes were filled with fright here in the shadows, and he leaned his head against my shoulder. The clunking of boots sounded against the wooden floors and a man with a gun stuck his head into the room. He searched behind the desk and left. I would’ve sighed in relief if I wasn’t petrified to even breathe. Bryant whimpered and I threw my hand over his mouth. The sound of the boots stopped. The smell of lantern oil burned my nose but there weren’t any lanterns in the study. Only candles.

Bryant shook beside me and I pressed my lips against his hair and moved my body to protect his better.

“It came from over here,” one of the men said. The thump of boots returned. Through the pattern of the panel, I could see the bottom half of the room. Four sets of boots filtered into the small study and made scuffing sounds as they looked around. I jumped when the desk crashed over on its side. One pair stayed with the toes pointed directly at our hiding place and my heart hammered so loudly, they’d surely hear it.

One of the men said, “I think I’ve found our little chicken, boys,” just before shots rang out and filled the night.

The sound of gunfire was eternal. Pain ripped through me time and time again and I held onto Bryant as long as I was able. I slumped to the side just as a pair of bare feet came barreling through the door. He wore a servant’s pants but they were much too short. He was faster than I’d ever imagined a man could be and yells ripped from my murderers as he fought them. Through the pistol fire, he seemed to dodge the searing bullets or not feel them at all. None of them slowed his determination to fight them all. I had to be imagining things. The pain that threatened to pull me beneath consciousness supported that theory.

The last man dropped to his knees and with a jerk of his body and a sickening cracking sound, he fell forward with open, vacant eyes staring at where I lay. I couldn’t drudge up any sorrow for the man’s demise. At least a tiny bit of justice had been served while I lived to see it. We were avenged. The panel was ripped away and tossed against the opposite wall like it was weightless. Bryant lay motionless in my arms and I hugged him tighter. My sweet boy. My brother. He was gone and soon I would join him. Tears streamed down the corners of my eyes as I gathered my strength to thank the man on behalf of my family.

The stranger crouched down in front of me and cursed softly. He didn’t wear a shirt and his skin was scarred and taut over musculature like I’d never imagined a man could have. He looked like a statue. His eyes glowed a crystalline blue color and the right side of his face had been marred by something he probably shouldn’t have survived. Flames lit the wall behind him and I smiled. He might look like an angel, but he hadn’t come from heaven.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

“Don’t thank me yet,” he drawled.

“No,” I argued when he gathered me to him. I clung tightly to Bryant. “I can’t leave my brother.”

“He’s left
you
.” His strange, icy eyes held a thousand years of sadness. “We have to go before this place burns to ashes.” He pulled my arms away from Bryant and I cried out at the loss of my brother’s warmth.

My struggles were futile and weak. “He might still be alive, like me.”

“He don’t have a heartbeat,” the man said, just before he kicked through a locked balcony door. “Nobody in this house does but you and me.”

My stomach lurched as he jumped two stories to the grassy lawn below. The impact was soft and didn’t seem to hurt him, and I closed my eyes against the pain coursing through my pierced body. The loss of my family seemed very far away. Such things didn’t happen to wealthy. We’d been good, honest people. Cruelty didn’t touch us in our manors and summer homes. Not like it did to the lower-born. There was safety in money.

The man’s heart drummed against the side of my cheek, slow and steady like the hammer of a blacksmith. Like he hadn’t just killed a slew of men and jumped from a burning house. The night was dark and the fog thick like a suffocating blanket. The glowing slivers of his eyes were all I could make out. Hours ago, I would have been terrified by the demon’s eyes, but I’d seen too much now. I wasn’t scared of anything anymore.