The Wild One (44 page)

Authors: Danelle Harmon

Lucien grabbed up the candlestick beside the
bed. "You ought to count yourself damned lucky that you're not
dead," he growled, holding the candle over Gareth's face and
leaning down to stare into his eyes.

Gareth swatted him away. "What the devil are
you doing?"

"Nothing."

"The doctor told us to watch your pupils,"
Juliet explained. "If they're different sizes, it could mean you
have brain damage."

Gareth only laughed.

"Nothing wrong with
you
," Lucien
muttered, straightening up. He slammed the candlestick back on the
nighttable so hard that it dented the wood.

"Yes, well, stay out of my face and there'll
be nothing wrong with
you
, either," Gareth returned with
mock threat, sighing happily as Juliet pulled the covers up over
his arms. Lucien saw another of those nauseatingly sweet,
sickeningly tender gazes pass between them. Faintly disgusted, he
rolled his eyes and turned away.

Leave it to the Wild One to stumble into a
killer's scheme and emerge with one of the finest estates in
Berkshire. He was lucky he wasn't dead.

But by God, I am proud of him.

Proud, yes. But furious. And what still had
him particularly incensed was the fact that Gareth had known what
Snelling was doing, but hadn't summoned him until it was nearly too
late. Then Snelling's man had intercepted his message.
Christ.
Had Snelling found out any earlier that Gareth had
been on to him, Gareth — like Charles — might be lying in a grave
with a bullet in him. Lucien cursed between his teeth, even as he
silently admired his brother for his courage and cleverness.

"Luce?"

Lucien, hiding that admiration beneath a
black scowl, turned and stared down at him.

"You still haven't told me how you got
Crusader back."

"Fox saw him at Tattersall's and promptly
bought him back for you. Now, go to sleep. Get some rest. I want
you to heal up so I can beat the living daylights out of you,
myself."

"I dare you to try it," Gareth whispered,
with a weak grin. "I'm a champion now, you know."

Lucien stared down at him. And then he shook
his head, no longer able to prevent a little smile from touching
his severe and unforgiving mouth. "So you are," he said softly. "So
you are."

Gareth raised one eyebrow in surprise.

Lucien added, "Believe it or not, you've
fulfilled my expectations and become the man I always thought you
could be." His smile deepened. "You've grown up, little brother.
I'm proud of you."

And with that he turned on his heel and left
the couple staring after him in stunned shock.

~~~~

The room was quiet, dimly lit by two candles
on either side of the bed; pulled up near it in her cradle,
Charlotte gave a tiny sigh as she dreamed.

Juliet waited until the duke's footsteps
faded, then looked down at her husband.

"Well, well. Monsters do have hearts, after
all," she mused, grinning. And then, as she caressed his lips with
her fingertip: "Gareth?"

"Yes, my love?"

"Just one thing. If you ever
do
do
anything like this again, Lucien won't have the chance to kill you
because I'm going to get to you first."

He laughed, curved his good arm around her
neck, and, ignoring her feeble protests, pulled her down, kissing
her so soundly that her head was soon as dizzy as his.

She snuggled up beside him and he drew her
right up next to him. They lay facing each other on one pillow, his
fingers lightly caressing her breast.

"I love you, Gareth."

"Ah, Juliet, I love you, too. I cannot tell
you what it meant to me to see you running across the stage toward
me tonight ... to know that you had not left me, after all." He
swallowed hard, his eyes dark with the force of his gratitude, his
love. "My greatest victory this evening was not defeating the
Butcher; it was waking up and finding you here, with me."

"Oh, Gareth ... can you ever forgive me for
doubting you?"

"I will forgive you anything, my love. Now,
snuff out the candles and get back down here under the covers with
me, would you?" He found her nipple with his thumb and, with a
wicked little grin, played with it until it peaked. "This bed is
too big and lonely without you."

Epilogue

It was three weeks before Christmas. Lucien,
who'd lingered at breakfast after the others had made their
excuses, was sipping his coffee and contemplating how to straighten
out Andrew — as he had so cleverly straightened out Gareth — when a
footman brought in a silver platter bearing the morning post, and
presented it to His Grace.

He went through it with his usual lack of
interest. Nothing out of the ordinary, here. Bills, investment
opportunities, loan requests from friends and charities,
invitations to social events, and ah! — his brows rose in interest
— two letters. He tossed the other post aside and slit the seal on
the first one. It was from Gareth and Juliet, full of recent news:
about Charlotte, who was now walking; about Gareth, who'd recently
been elected the local Member of Parliament; about Juliet, who was
expecting their second child. The letter ended with an invitation
for the whole family to spend Christmas at Swanthorpe.

The duke leaned back, thoughtfully stroking
his chin. Outside, it was one of those rare days in an English
winter when the sun, low in the sky and still weak, had managed to
burn through the clouds and turn the sky the color of
bluebells.

Christmas at Swanthorpe. He smiled. Hell,
why not?

He folded the letter, basking in the
satisfied glow he always got when he considered his part in
bringing Gareth and Juliet together.

The Wild One all squared away.
Time to
get to work on Andrew, the Defiant One.

Ah, yes. Now
there
would be a
challenge....

Still grinning, he picked up the other
letter, bearing the postmark of some town in America he had never
heard of. The writing on the front looked oddly familiar. Frowning,
Lucien turned the letter over, broke the seal — and began to
read:

28 October , 1776

My dear brother, Lucien...

What?!
Lucien came half-way out of
his chair, nearly upsetting the table. "My God!
He's
alive!
"

He cursed his eyes for their inability to
travel as fast as his excitement as he raced through the rest of
the letter:

... I do not quite know how to begin this
letter, especially knowing what you must believe — and what you
will think of me, after you have read it through. I hope to God my
family has not wept for me, as I do not deserve your tears, your
concern, not even your forgiveness. I have much to say, and much to
explain as regards my absence and the unhappy fact that everyone
seems to have believed me dead — but I dare say that a letter is
not the place to do it, and there are things I would speak to you
about only when I am back in England with my family.

To that end, I will be taking passage home
in two weeks, and hope to be with you all for Christmas. Please
discard all memories of the man you once knew me to be; illness and
circumstance have made me but a shadow of my former self, and you
should not expect too highly of me when next we meet.

I look forward to seeing you all soon. May
God bless and keep you.

Charles

Lucien sat there for a moment, stunned.
Then, the letter clenched in his hand, he strode hurriedly from the
room, bellowing for Nerissa and Andrew.

Work on the Defiant One, it seemed, would
just have to wait.

The Beloved One was coming home.

###

~ the end ~

Keep reading for an extra-special sneak
peek of the 2nd book in the De Montforte Brothers series,
THE BELOVED
ONE
!

About the Author:

Multi-award winning and critically acclaimed
author Danelle Harmon is the author of ten books, previously
published in print and distributed in many languages worldwide.
Though a Massachusetts native, she has lived in England and is
married to an Englishman; she and her husband make their home in
New England with their daughter Emma and numerous animals including
four dogs, an Egyptian Arabian horse, and numerous pet chickens.
Danelle welcomes email from her readers and can be reached at
[email protected] or through any of the means listed
below: