Strictly Forbidden (35 page)

“These are young girls, and your plans will destroy their lives.”

“These are unimportant chits. No one will miss them.”

Disgust curdled in his belly. “Their families will! How can you exploit their innocence
to line your pocketbook? It’s hideous and—”

“Oh, such melodrama.
You’ve always prided yourself on your upstanding behavior. Cropthorne the saint
.” Vance rolled his eyes. “
But I’ll wager even you have a hidden secret or two.”

Oh, yes. He had Kira, his cousin’s fiancée—the woman he had bedded twice and feared
he would be unable to resist again should she give him the slightest encouragement.
The woman was in his blood. She made him think wicked thoughts, ignore his own common
sense.

The Daggett blood always shows,
his father had been fond of saying. Gavin had refused to believe it existed
until his desire for Kira proved not only that it
was real
, but was damn near inescapable.

“Whatever I may have done didn’t involve illegal trade or cruelly shattering a girl’s
innocence,” Gavin replied.

The viscount brushed a lock of pale hair from his face, looking more amused than worried
by Gavin’s interruption. “My, you seem to have me all figured out. I felt as if someone
was watching me these past few days, but never discerned why. I assume that was you?”

“No, that was me.”

Both Gavin and Vance turned their attention to the far side of the altar. Darius stood
in front of the empty window arch, blood trailing down his lip, a Wilkinson pistol
drawn.

Vance looked annoyed. “You are…?”

“Darius Melbourne, Kira’s brother, and the man who hopes to see you hanged and humiliated.”

“My, aren’t we ambitious? I’m afraid I’m going to have to decline your gracious invitation.
Barnes! Rafferty!”

“If you’re looking for the two thugs keeping watch,” said Darius, wiping the blood
from the corner of his mouth, “we’ve already dealt with them. Now it’s just you and
two men who want to see you pay for what you did to Kira.”

Finally, Vance looked nervous. He licked his lips, glancing at Darius over his right
shoulder and
at
Gavin over his left.

“Yes, you’re trapped.” Gavin smiled.

And before Gavin could blink, Vance raced across the room and closed in on him, knife
high in the air. Gavin raised his gun in defense and leapt back, trying to get off
a steady shot. But the viscount’s blade swooped down and sliced a gash in his wrist.
Gavin felt a scrape and a burn. Blood began rushing in a warm trickle across his skin,
quickly dotting the floor in crimson. He cursed and pulled his arm to his side.

“Cropthorne, move out of the way so I can shoot the bastard!” Darius shouted.

Then Vance wielded the wicked blade down again. Gavin scrambled back, evading the
worst of the blow, but Vance still managed to slice another cut into Gavin’s thigh.

He staggered to remain on his feet, refusing to give up. Then Vance tried to run past
him. Gavin latched on
to the swine’s coat with his unwounded hand and yanked back. The viscount turned around
with a snarl on his white face and raised his knife up high above Gavin’s chest.

Gavin leaned away from the blade’s arc as Vance swung it down. At the last second,
Gavin pushed the villain away and fired his pistol. The force of the blow nearly knocked
him over.

Then Gavin heard an echo, another blast. He smelled the acrid scent of gunpowder,
heard Vance grunt in pain.

The bounder staggered back, clutching his stomach. Red rivulets of blood ran in every
direction from the wound within instants, staining his crisp white shirt. He also
sported another gunshot deep in his shoulder.

Apparently, he and Darius had chosen the same course of action, only one had had better
aim than the other. He hardly cared which now, only that Vance wasn’t going to get
away.

The viscount looked up at Darius, then at Gavin, his blue eyes glazing over with a
mixture of fury and pain.

“You bastards!”

“No.” Darius advanced on the viscount, teeth gritted. “That honor is yours.” He cursed.
“I bloody wanted to see you suffer before you died.”

“You’re both stupid savages,” he cursed. “They’re just women!”

“And you’re just a criminal,” Gavin returned.

Darius grabbed the viscount by his lapels. “Why did you prey upon my sister?”

“Go to hell,” he muttered, grimacing.

“Why?” he demanded.

Still, Vance refused to reply.

“Because she is beautiful and sensual, intelligent and exotic. Men would have paid
a fortune to have her,” Gavin finally supplied.

Darius glared at him, then turned back to his quarry. “Why did you malign her to the
ton?
Why did you ruin her with lies?”

Vance didn’t answer. Instead, he turned whiter. He made a gurgling noise. Lifting
his hands away from his stomach, Vance looked down to find them covered in red. His
eyes widened, then rolled into the back of his head.

He slumped to the ground, dead.

With a vicious curse, Darius kicked Vance in the ribs. “Why, you son of a bitch?”

“Because he could discredit her with lies,” Gavin offered. “If the
ton
thought her a whore, no one would believe her if she chose to inform anyone of his
unscrupulous conduct.”

Darius turned to him and swallowed. “Kira did not deserve the hell he put her through.”

“No, she didn’t.”

The fists balled at Darius’s side told Gavin the young man was full of rage at the
injustice of Vance’s actions. And Gavin himself felt outrage for the evil viscount’s
scheme, that he’d inflicted such pain upon Kira. But the man was dead now. He could
not threaten another woman again.

Screaming at the far end of the altar brought Gavin’s gaze back around. Darius followed
suit. Charlotte and Beatrice!

Gavin ran to the slabs which held them chained, Darius at his heels. In seconds, they
freed the girls. Charlotte’s pale eyes were wild with rage, her fair skin mottled
as Darius removed his long coat and placed it around her shoulders. Gavin performed
the same act for Beatrice, but she fell into his arms, sobbing.

And Gavin thanked God they were safe. More, he thanked God that Kira was safe. Now
that he’d seen for himself what she had endured, he understood all too well what could
have become her fate. And having held her in his arms, kissed and stroked her, laughed
and sang and commiserated with her, the thought of losing Kira filled his gut with
a giant, aching gape.

The following day, Darius went to the local constable to answer questions about Lord
Vance’s death and the young girls’ rescue. Kira left for London with James and Gavin.

It rained. Kira swore the pitter-patter of the fat droplets on the carriage roof was
the only sound in the somber vehicle for miles. Gavin, having received a pair of stitches
on his wrist and five in his thigh where Lord Vance had stabbed him, slept for most
of the first day of the journey. James was oddly quiet.

Even Kira had little to say. Still she could not believe the extent of Vance’s evil
plans. Relieved did not begin to describe her reaction, knowing that he would not
prey upon her—or anyone else—again.

But more than Vance weighed upon her mind. Since leaving Cornwall, she’d scarcely
had a moment alone with Gavin. Still, she had no notion what he’d intended to say
to—or ask—her before Darius’s interruption at the Tall Tree Inn. She was beyond impatient
to know the answer. She felt foolish, but Kira could not stop hoping he would propose.

Perhaps she wished for the moon, but Gavin’s behavior after their lovemaking was different
than before. After the night in the library, he’d run from the room and done his best
to avoid her for nearly a week. This time, he had all but pleaded with her to stay
beside him. He’d held her hand the following morning as well. Even now, her palm tingled
where he
’d
massaged it with his thumb. Most compelling, he had risked his life to kill Vance
and repair her reputation. What man would do so much if he did not love her?

Kira sighed. What had she seen in Lord Vance? A title, she supposed. Never knowing
anyone with his deceitful nature before, she believed his flattery and false charm.
He’d seemed to like her, regardless of her Persian heritage.

By eloping with Lord Vance, she had also imagined she would be less of a burden to
her brother, so he might be free to live his own life, rather than seeing after hers.
Instead, Darius had abandoned his pursuits to avenge her. He was the best brother
ever, and Kira wondered what she would ever do without him.

She also wondered what to do with her life now.

Casting a sideways glance at her fiancé, Kira studied James. His blond hair glinted
when the occasional ray of sun penetrated the thick clouds. Sleepiness softened his
face. He stared out the window, watching the passing scenery. He’d folded his smooth
hands and rested them atop the Bible sitting in his lap.

Beside him, Gavin slept, his large frame slouched against the side of the black vehicle.
Repose tempered the hard angles of his face a bit. He’d lost blood, the surgeon had
said before stitching him up. Kira didn’t remember a time she’d been so worried about
an injury
,
or so stunned that he’d done so much to help rid her of Lord Vance’s threat and lies.

She hoped
he
’
d done that to clear a path for their future. The T & S railroad might even have launched
today, and he had missed the festivities to help and protect her. Kira could think
of no reason why he would risk so much, except love. And since they’d made love at
the inn, Gavin’s constant gaze had been warm
,
if a bit anxious. Perhaps the idea of proposing marriage rattled his composure. Kira
smiled at the thought.

While she was not entirely certain when Gavin had changed his mind on the matter of
marriage, his actions seemed to indicate that he had. She sighed in frustration. If
only they could spend a few minutes alone so that she could know for certain!

It wasn’t as if he could blurt such a question out in front of James. And perhaps
Gavin delayed asking her out of deference to his cousin. It was entirely possible—probable
even—that Gavin did not want to make any claim upon her until he knew James would
not be hurt. Yes, that made sense.

As for Kira herself… Well, she had never loved a man the way she loved Gavin and was
thrilled that he might want to make her his wife.

By the time they reached London, Kira knew what she must do with her future. And her
first course of action was to speak with James.

“Mr. Howland,” she said to him in the cloud-covered garden the gray morning after
their arrival in London.

The breeze tugged at his fair hair as he raised his head from the flowers he had picked.
Kira feared they were for her, and she didn’t know what to say. Romantic gestures
on his part would only make this meeting more awkward.

“Hello.” He smiled. “How good to see you. Did you sleep well finally?”

“I fear not.”

Concern shadowed his blue eyes as he faced her. “You must put the past behind you.
Lord Vance is dead, and Gavin sent word only hours ago that they rescued nine girls
from Mrs. Linde’s brothel. All of the girls should be returned to their families soon.
”

Kira’s heart went out to each one of those poor creatures. She could scarcely imagine
the hell they had endured. “I am indeed relieved they are free. Pray God they find
happiness somehow. And I hope Mrs. Linde sees the inside of a prison.”

“She almost certainly will.”

“That is very good news. Thank you.”

James nodded. “Shall we walk.”

Kira smiled and placed her gloved hand upon his arm, uncertain how to proceed. “May
I speak with you about…us?”

James peered at her, confusion rife on his face, until comprehension dawned. “Ah,
you wish to discuss our wedding. It’s natural that you should wish to settle your
future.”

Kira swallowed. He was so dear and unspoiled. But he was a boy, really. She owed him
a great deal. And for his sake—and for her own happiness—she must do this.

“I do wish to settle my future.” She took her gloved hand from his arm and folded
them before her. “And I must do it by declining your proposal of marriage.”

Shock transformed James’s face. Mouth agape, he frowned. The flowers slipped from
his finger to the blood red bricks below.

“W—why?”

“We do not love each other.”

“Love isn’t necessary for marriage.” His frowned showed confusion. “It only requires
companionship and… and respect, commitment to each other and to God.”

“Marriage does require all you say,” she agreed. “But to make me whole, it must contain
love.
I
need it. Someday, you might feel the same, and if you wed me out of duty or pity,
you would not be free to pursue your heart. I refuse to be in your way when you meet
the someone who wins your love.”