Once Upon A Diamond (A sweet Regency Historical Romance) Page 20

  “Let me go!” She fought for another breath and kicked him again. But his hold on her felt like a steel vise. Burning tears slipped down her face. Breathe. She just needed to breathe.

  Her lungs felt as if he were squeezing the life out of her. There was a roaring in her ears and her eyes swam with tears. She was an idiot for leaving the ballroom with this man, but it was too late to admit that to anybody. In truth, it might be too late for anything.

  The captain slammed her up against a tree, jerking his body against hers. “You’re mine.”

  Pain hammered in her head. “Please, don’t do this.”

  The captain sunk his fingers into her flesh. “No, Katherine. Not after all this waiting. You shouldn’t have tried to leave me. I could have been gentler.”

  His angry growl sent another shiver throughout her already terrified body. Wet slimy lips crushed against hers. He was brutal in his attack. The metallic taste of blood tainted her mouth, and she was dimly aware of what was happening.

  There was no escape. The darkness. The evil. The wretched cold hitting her limbs, her neck, her legs. She tried to pull her mouth away to scream, but the captain gripped her shoulders harder and shook her. Her body scraped against the tree. Her head lolled back limply. She felt herself drowning, numb to everything, even his touch.

  “Darling, call me, Edward, when we’re alone. And don’t think. Don’t talk. Just kiss me...I love you...always...”

  Tristan stopped on the path, listening to his brother’s speech of devoted love. Love? Edward was a fool. But his brother’s love life was the least of his worries with Kate gone. For a moment he debated on recruiting Edward’s help. No. Not now. He clenched his fists and started down the path again, his black shoes dusted with dirt and mud. He would return if–

  His stopped abruptly, his ears lifted to the sound of a small whimper.

  His stomach clenched. A lady’s moan of distress? Kate!

  Adrenaline pumped through his veins as he hastened down the path.

  Chapter Fourteen

  A primal roar erupted from Tristan’s chest at the sight of Gaston towering over Kate’s limp body. “You’re a dead man, Captain.”

  Gaston immediately loosened his grip on Kate and pushed her aside. Before he could react, Tristan plowed the scoundrel squarely in the jaw.

  The captain staggered back, hitting the ground with a dull thump. “You dirty...arrogant swine!” And then came words mumbled in French.

  Tristan’s breathing was ragged, from both fear and relief. He glanced at Kate’s dazed expression and his blood stirred with anger. Lunging forward, he drove another thrust to Gaston’s stomach.

  Wracked with pain, the stooped captain moaned and jerked forward, making a grab for Kate.

  “Not enough?” Uttering a vile oath, Tristan grabbed the captain by the jacket, then struck his face dead center. Blood spurted from Gaston’s nose. The man fell to the ground, unmoving.

  Tristan strode toward a shaking Kate, his eyes narrowing on her ripped gown. Her mouth was swollen and tinged with blood. Teary eyes met his as she pulled the parts of her dress together.

  “I’m sorry.” Her voice was a ragged whisper, cutting into Tristan’s heart like a burning knife. His arms shot out, catching her before she tripped into the rose bushes.

  Holding her limp body in his arms, he frowned as he surveyed her torn gown, her split lip, the marks on her neck and shoulders, not to mention Gaston’s blood that had been smeared against her skin. He spit out a curse, knowing he had to remove her from the scene without delay. He would return for the captain, and when he did, it was going to be devilish hard not to murder the man.

  Tristan swept Kate into his arms and carried her to the edge of the garden near the windows of the mansion. The murmur of voices and the hum of violins lifted on the cool breeze, making him all too aware of the scene they would make entering the ballroom.

  He couldn’t enter holding a semi-unconscious lady with a ripped gown. The ton’s gossip would be ceaseless. He needed help.

  As if an answer to his prayers, he twirled around when he heard his brother’s voice.

  “Charlotte, I want to marry you. I–”

  Tristan broke past the trees. “Edward.”

  Edward glanced over his shoulder, his eyes wide. “Devil take it! What the blazes is going on!”

  Charlotte peaked over Edward’s shoulder. “Kate!"

  Tristan winced. “Kate is alive, but if you dare scream any louder, the entire ballroom shall be witness to this. As you can see, I have no wish to engage anyone else in this delicate matter.”

  Tristan motioned to his brother. “I’ll tell you about it later. But for now, get the carriage and Matthew. No footman. Only Digby. I’ll be waiting with her around back."

  Edward gave him a grim nod and hastened inside the ballroom with Charlotte by his side.

  Tristan lowered Kate to the ground and cradled her head in his arms. Sweeping her golden tresses from her face, he patted her face until a bit of color seemed to return to her. Hell and spitfire! He had never been so scared in his life. “Kate?"

  She raised the back of her hand to her eyes. “Wh-what happened?”

  Tristan gathered his temper and stored it in the back of his mind for later. Every muscle in his body went taut as he counted the minutes for his return to Gaston. “You don’t remember?”

  Kate closed her eyes and nodded shakily. “H-horrible.”

  Fat tears spilled down her cheeks. Tristan pulled her against him as she buried her face in his chest. He combed her hair with his fingers. “You’re safe, sweetheart. You’re safe now.”

  Her small body shook in his arms while her low, moaning sobs broke his heart. There wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do for this woman.

  He squeezed her tighter in his arms. Her pain seemed to override his fear of losing her.

  Nevertheless, the moment she recovered, he planned to give her the tongue lashing of her life. He could not believe how stupid she had been to ever let that man touch her, let alone bring her out into the gardens. When she became his wife, he would change her ways. He would not allow her independent nature to put herself in any more danger.

  If he had been one minute later...

  He closed his eyes. No! He wouldn’t think about that.

  “Tristan?"

  He dropped his gaze to a pair of chocolate brown eyes that had captured his soul the first time he had seen her ten years ago. “Hmmm?”

  She grasped her stomach. “D-don’t feel very well.”

  “I know, sweetheart. I’ll have you home as soon as I can. You’ll be safe there."

  Kate’s hand reached beneath his arm. Her face was deathly pale, and he fought the urge to return to the gardens and kill Gaston with his bare hands.

  “No, I mean, I’m ill." Her lips pressed together into a thin white line.

  Tristan stared at her heaving stomach and finally caught her meaning. With a quick jerk, he lifted her behind a bush, just in time for her to abandon her last meal onto the poor plants.

  She wiped her wet forehead with her hand. “Th-thank you.”

  Grimacing, Tristan swept her into his arms once again. She rested her head against his chest and heaved a deep sigh. “Tristan?” Her voice was hoarse, but edged with control.

  “Hmmm?” His heart was just beginning to recover as he walked toward the carriage.

  “I...I love you.”

  Tristan was too stunned to speak. He carried Kate to the waiting carriage as he mulled over her words. I love you.

  It was the second time she’d told him. His heart warmed every time he heard those words. Kate was everything to him. At the moment, he had no wish to make light of his feelings for her. Even though he’d told her of his honorable intentions, he wanted to wait for the perfect time to ask her to marry him again.

  A minute later Kate sat in Tristan’s carriage. The pink was slowly returning to her cheeks. “What are you waiting for?” she asked, watching him pace along the gravel
pathway.

  “Your brother,” he said with a scowl.

  But Tristan knew too much time had passed. By now Captain Gaston may have come to his senses, and there was no inkling what the scoundrel might do then. Simply looking at Kate made Tristan furious. He wished he could lock her up for good, he having the only key. Yet it was amazing how she had snapped back to life, spouting her opinion as if she were queen.

  “Matthew can come along with the others in their carriage,” she said. “I refuse to have him see me like this. He’ll want to go after the captain and kill him. Do you want that on your conscience?”

  Tristan glared at her bloody dress and all reason left him. “I sent for him. He’ll be here.” And he won’t do the killing! I will!

  “Kate?” Matthew’s voice was anything but calm as he stalked toward the carriage.

  Kate shuddered and shrank far back into her seat. Matthew came to a screeching halt. His face twitched in disbelief at the sight of his sister’s disheveled state. “What the hell happened?” He glared at Tristan with his fists planted firmly on his hips.

  Tristan threw up his hands in defense. “Hold it! Just calm down! Your sister’s safe.”

  “Safe from what?” Matthew piped louder, exchanging angry glances between the two.

  “Truly, Matthew, I can explain all of this.” Kate started to step out of the carriage.

  Having completely lost his temper, Tristan took a firm step toward her. “You!” He pointed to Kate. “Return to that carriage and stay there!”

  Kate’s eyes widened at the powerful command, and she obediently moved back into the carriage.

  Matthew gaped at Tristan with the utmost respect. “In all my born days, I vow, I have never seen anybody tell her what to do and get away with it. Now, what happened?"

  Tristan rested a hand on his shoulder. “Hop in the carriage. I’ll tell you everything when I get to my townhouse.”

  Glaring at Kate, Matthew stepped into the carriage, then glanced over his shoulder at Tristan. “Your townhouse? Why your townhouse?"

  “Would you rather I drive to the duke’s residence and take your sister inside looking like a bleeding dog that was dragged through the trenches?”

  Kate clamped her mouth shut and pushed her jaw forward, as if to say that she didn’t look that bad!

  Matthew’s lips thinned as he inspected his sister. “I see your point.” He watched as Tristan began to close the door to the carriage without stepping inside. “Wait a blasted minute!”

  Matthew flung the door open and shot out of the carriage. “What’s going on here? I demand to know what happened and why you intend to stay!”

  Kate leaned out the carriage. “Please, you two. Get inside!”

  Tristan glared at her, pure rage smoking through his nostrils. “You have nothing to say,” he snapped in a voice so low that Kate trembled. Pursing her lips, she retreated to her seat.

  A vein bulged in Matthew’s neck. “It was Captain Gaston, wasn’t it?”

  Tristan gritted his teeth and nodded.

  Matthew grabbed Tristan’s shoulders. “He’s mine. Let me go after him. He’s wronged me too many times. You cannot deny me.”

  For a split second Tristan weighed the crazy idea of letting Matthew go with him. He knew that Matthew thought the man was involved in his father’s murder. But no. He couldn’t let Kate’s brother search for the captain. Gaston might be anywhere. For all he knew, the man could be carrying a pistol.

  Again, Kate poked her head out of the carriage. “Matthew, the man did nothing to hurt me, not really.”

  Matthew pointed his finger at Kate. “Whose blood is that? Tell me!”

  Tristan gave Matthew a quick rendition of the night’s events, and Matthew’s eyes flamed with rage.

  “We’re wasting precious minutes.” Tristan darted a glance toward the bushes. “Let me return to the gardens. If he’s not there, I’ll come back straight away.”

  “Nothing doing. He’s mine,” Matthew insisted.

  “I’m sorry to have to do this two nights in a row, old boy.” With a hurled fist to Matthew’s face, Kate’s brother fell to the ground like a sack of grain.

  Tristan turned his head, only to meet Kate’s disgusting glare.

  “Take care of him,” he said before he looked up at his coachman who had been intently watching the entire scene. “Digby, if I don’t return in ten minutes, fetch my brother and the marquess.”

  The next ten minutes were the tensest moments of Kate’s life. She rested her brother’s head in her lap, waiting for him to awake and wondered if the captain was still lying in the garden. Her head hurt so much from the horrid evening, she couldn’t think.

  But she could still remember the words she had spoken to Tristan. She had told him she loved him, but he didn’t seem to care. Her stomach twisted in pain. She loved him with all her heart, but he didn’t love her.

  Matthew moaned and lifted his hand to his cheek. “Where the devil is he?”

  Kate sniffed, not saying a word, but only peered back at her brother’s hardened expression.

  “How long has the idiot been gone?"

  Kate swallowed the lump in her throat. For all she knew, Tristan might be dead. “Almost ten minutes.”

  Aware of the sound of crunching of footsteps, Matthew shot up. “Get in the carriage,” he commanded to his sister. Kate looked at him as if in a trance, not able to move. “I said, get in! NOW!" Matthew shoved her toward the carriage.

  Trembling, Kate took a seat and let out a relieved breath when a familiar voice reached their ears. “He’s gone.” Tristan appeared beyond the bushes, his eyes glued to Kate. “There’s nothing we can do about it now. Let’s head back to my townhouse and clean her up. My brother can catch a ride home with Devin when he finds him."

  Overwhelmed with emotion, Kate blinked back tears. Matthew nodded in agreement. The two gentlemen joined Kate in the carriage. Tristan waved Digby to move on.

  Kate felt the burning stares of the two men, Tristan’s, hard and unforgiving, Matthew’s, grim and uncompromising. A brittle silence lingered inside the carriage as the vehicle jerked forward. Worrying her bottom lip, Kate shivered as a fog descended upon the city like a phantom in the night.

  When the carriage finally came to a stop in front of the Lancewood townhouse, Digby jumped down from his perch and opened the door, letting Matthew exit first.

  The damp air chilled Kate’s skin as she waited for Tristan to step onto the walk. Frowning, she moved from her seat and peeked up at him. He opened his mouth to speak, but clamped it shut.

  Kate let out a shuddering sigh. Both men were as mad as hornets, and she was going to be the recipient of their sting. She didn’t relish the thought and decided to have her say now before the two men were on her at once. “Listen here, I can tell you–”

  A resounding boom cut off her argument.

  Tristan jerked Kate to the carriage floor and rolled on top of her.

  “Don’t move,” he warned. Kate watched in horror as the carriage door fluttered back and forth and Tristan whipped out a pistol from a compartment beneath the seat.

  Kate couldn’t move if she wanted to. Tristan was crushing the breath out of her. Pressing her back to the floor, he lifted his head to glance outside. “Pistol shot,” he whispered.

  Before she could say a word, an agonizing groan reached her ears. She stiffened in alarm. “Where’s Matthew?” she screeched.

  She twisted her head. The light from the street lamps blurred in the fog. A cold rain had begun to fall. One of the horses snorted while Tristan clenched his pistol, raising it higher.

  “By Jove, he’s hit, my lord.” Digby’s shaking voice came from beneath the carriage.

  Hit? Icy fear slammed into Kate’s chest. “Matthew!”

  Matthew suddenly appeared, staggering toward the coach. “Kate,” he groaned, then stumbled to the ground.

  Tristan pounced outside. Kate followed.

  “Get down!” Tristan pushed her again
st the walk. The dampness of the cool ground rose to meet her face.

  “Matthew?” she cried, her arm reaching out to touch him.

  “He’s been shot,” Tristan hissed. “Someone might still be out there, and I can’t see a deuced thing in this fog.”

  Tristan rolled Matthew toward him. “Devil take it! He’s losing too much blood! Have to move him inside!”

  Kate started to shake as she stared at her brother’s still body. The blood. There was so much blood.

  Nothing stirred inside the gloomy bedchamber except the sound of servants shuffling across the floor with clean water and linens. Outside the Lancewood townhouse, fog still blanketed the night. A light rain sprayed against the window, interrupting the crushing silence.

  Kate sat in a wing chair alongside Matthew’s still body. Her brother had been placed upon Tristan’s four poster bed and hadn’t moved at all. Candles flickered on the nearby nightstands, throwing her hunched shadow onto the far wall.

  Matthew’s face was pale and gaunt, the candlelight only adding to the shadows beneath his eyes. Though the ball had passed through his shoulder, he had lost a huge amount of blood.

  Kate’s eyes pooled with tears as she dropped her gaze. She noticed her brother’s blood had mixed with the captain’s blood, staining her gown. She dropped her head beside her brother’s. Oh, Matthew.

  “Please fight this. You have your whole life ahead of you.” Her throat locked up. “I won’t let you die, Matthew. I won’t.”

  Tristan braced himself against the door, watching Kate’s shoulders tremble in grief - grief that paralyzed his heart. He frowned as his gaze followed her delicate hand brushing across Matthew’s pale brow. The scent of foreboding death filled the room.

  She was going to lose the only family she had left, and it was his fault. The shot had been meant for him. Someone wanted him dead, and it had something to do with that deuced diamond.

  He had sent an urgent missive to Whitehall, telling them of the shooting. One theory was that he was closing in on the diamond and someone was getting restless. Restless enough to shoot Matthew.