Betrayed by Your Kiss (2 page)

Strathern threw her father off as if he were a small man. “Leave me the hell alone! I just want the man who killed my daughter.”

There was a loud gasp from the crowd, then a hushed murmur as everyone strained to see and hear what would take place next.

“Come now, Strathern. You’re obviously distraught. Why don’t you—”

“Where is he?” Strathern searched the crowd, his eyes wild. He stopped when he landed on Damien. Before her father or Captain Durham could stop him, Strathern pushed his way forward like a drunken madman. “You! Murderer!”

In the blink of an eye, Strathern pulled a gun from his pocket and stumbled closer. Loud screams echoed in the ballroom as Damien reached out his hand and pushed Olivia further behind him. “You lying, deceiving bastard! You killed her!” Strathern aimed the gun at the center of Damien’s chest, but Olivia’s father shoved Strathern’s arm upward as he fired. A loud explosion echoed in the ballroom, followed by the guests’ frantic screams as the bullet struck the ceiling. Pandemonium followed as Olivia’s father and Captain Durham subdued the Earl of Strathern.

“He killed her! He killed Cassandra!”

“Let’s go someplace where we can discuss this,” her father said.

Her father and Captain Durham escorted Strathern and his son out, and she and Damien followed. Olivia felt the tension in Damien’s grasp. The muscles in his arms bunched beneath her fingers as they walked from the room. “Damien?”

She wanted him to look at her. That’s all she needed, just a look and then she’d know that everything was going to be all right. But he didn’t. He placed one foot in front of the other as he walked through the crowd with his gaze fixed straight ahead.

Olivia had no choice but to hold her head high and walk as bravely as he did. Her heart thundered in her chest as they followed her father up the ballroom stairs and out into the foyer. The murmuring of the crowd echoed in her ears, engulfing her with a sense of foreboding. Olivia glanced up, searching for any expression on Damien’s face that would reassure her. She saw none. His features were hooded and unrevealing. The healthy bronze of his skin now seemed washed, devoid of color.

They walked in silence to her father’s study where they could be assured of privacy.

A gnawing fear ate at the pit of her stomach with each step. When the door closed behind them, Olivia blanched. The sound indicated an end to the bliss she’d enjoyed minutes before.

Olivia slipped her hand in Damien’s as her father and the captain settled Strathern. Strathern’s son stepped into the shadows. But the calm was short-lived. The minute they stepped away from him, Strathern bolted from the chair. Damien stepped in front of her to protect her.

When both the captain and Pellingsworth reached to subdue Strathern again, Damien held up his hand to stop them. He stepped forward and faced his accuser squarely.

“I realize you’ve suffered a terrible loss, Lord Strathern, but I assure you, I had nothing to do with your daughter’s death. I’d appreciate a reason for your impossible accusations.”

Strathern stepped closer to Damien, his icy glare one of intense loathing. “You know damn well what you’ve done, you heartless bastard. You killed my Cassandra.”

Her heart skipped a beat. Why would he accuse Damien of being responsible for Cassandra’s death? Any connection between them was over before he began courting Olivia.

“I assure you, Strathern. I had nothing to do with Cassandra’s death.”

“Liar! You are as responsible for her death as if you’d stabbed a knife through her heart yourself. She died trying to rid herself of the babe you planted in her.”

It took Olivia a moment for Strathern’s words to sink in. When they did, a lump formed in the pit of her stomach.

Her gaze lifted to Damien, but his expression remained blank, unreadable.

Strathern took a menacing step closer. “Did you think she would take your name to her grave? Did you think you would escape unscathed after what you’d done to her? That I wouldn’t force her to tell me the name of the bastard who’d caused her death? Your name came from her lips, Iversley. She screamed your name with her dying breath.”

“No!” Damien roared. “The babe was not mine!”

“You bastard!” Strathern bellowed. “But you won’t get away with it. I’ll have my revenge,” he said through clenched teeth. “You’re going to receive the same sentence as my Cassandra. You’re going to pay with your life.”

Olivia couldn’t stop the gasp that escaped her. She looked at Damien, but only her father spoke.

“Strathern, listen. Surely you can’t believe Lord Iversley would—”

“I not only believe it, I am certain of it. My daughter’s dying words confirmed it. She said when she found out she was carrying a child, she begged him to marry her, but he refused.”

A painful grip tightened inside her chest. “Damien?”

Damien took a threatening step toward Strathern. “The babe your daughter died trying to rid herself of was not mine, Strathern.”

“You bastard. I should have known you wouldn’t own up to what you’d done.” Strathern stepped closer to Damien, his fists clenched at his sides, his face red with fury. “You used her, and when you were finished, you abandoned her for Pellingsworth’s daughter.”

Olivia stepped back from the hatred she saw in Strathern’s eyes.

“Everyone knows the only reason you’re marrying her is for her father’s ships.”

Olivia’s heart shifted inside her breast. She knew Damien loved her. But suddenly she needed him to deny Strathern’s accusation. She wanted to hear Damien say the ships meant nothing to him.

But he didn’t.

For the first time since Damien had asked her to marry him, she felt alone, abandoned. Before she could erase the disappointment from her eyes, the doubt, Damien turned his head. His gaze locked with hers. The blackness of his eyes hardened, and Olivia felt the earth fall away from her. “Tell him that isn’t true, Damien.” She waited. “Tell him the ships mean nothing to you.”

“My saying the words mean that much to you?”

She wanted to deny that they did. But she couldn’t. And in that moment, she knew he thought she’d failed him.

He turned away from her.

“Damien?”

Olivia reached out to touch him, but the tensing of his muscles beneath her fingers made her draw her hand back. Strathern’s words stopped the breath in her throat.

“You will meet me at dawn tomorrow morning in Miller’s field, Iversley, and only one of us will walk away.”

Damien nodded. “As you wish, Strathern.”

“No. Damien, no!” Olivia didn’t realize the cry had come from her until Damien turned his head and silenced her with a look.

He turned from her as if she’d wedged a barrier between them that could never be breached.

“At dawn, Iversley. I’ll be waiting.”

Olivia watched as the Earl of Strathern and his son left the room. Not until the door closed behind him did she take a breath. Damien turned to her father with a stoic look on his face and an emptiness in his eyes that frightened her.

“Lord Pellingsworth, I will need a second in the morning.”

“Iversley, I’m not sure—”

Damien held up his hand to stop him, and Olivia’s father cut his sentence short as if he understood Damien had no choice.

“Perhaps you can make my excuses to the guests,” Damien said to her father. “I have a number of personal details to see to before morning.”

Without looking at her again, he left the room, the door shutting behind him.

“It’ll be all right, Olivia,” her father whispered, staring at the closed door.

But she knew it wouldn’t be all right. She knew nothing would ever be right again.

Chapter 2

It was an unheard of hour as a large circle of men gathered. The earth was still eerily quiet. It would be a long time before the sun burned off the heavy mist that filled the darkness. Before even the birds awoke to proclaim the arrival of a new day.

Olivia drew her cloak tighter around her shoulders to ward off the pre-dawn chill. A shiver wracked her body, and she buried herself deeper against the squabs of the carriage. It took every ounce of strength to breathe through her terror.

She couldn’t believe this was happening. Couldn’t believe that her whole world had fallen apart. And the worst could yet come. Before the sun had risen above the horizon, she could be holding Damien’s lifeless body in her arms.

She’d done nothing but pace the floor all night. There had to be a way out of this for Damien. There had to be a way to convince Strathern that Damien wasn’t responsible for Cassandra’s death.

A picture of Cassandra’s beautiful face appeared in Olivia’s mind’s eye. She’d always been the belle of the ball, always the most sought after debutante. Damien’s name had been linked to Cassandra’s before he’d asked Olivia to marry him, but that was no reason to believe he’d fathered her babe. And yet, she remembered the look on Damien’s face when she’d mentioned Cassandra in the garden last night. And there was still the nagging question that refused to go away. One question to which she couldn’t find an answer.

What possible reason could Cassandra have had for telling her father the babe was Damien’s?

She swept away another tear with trembling fingers and closed her eyes. Her head ached and her eyes were red and swollen.

“We’re almost there, Lady Olivia,” Johns, the driver, said from atop. “Are you sure you don’t want me to turn around and take you home?”

“No, Johns. Keep going.”

“But you shouldn’t be here, my lady. Your father isn’t going to like it one bit.”

No, her father wouldn’t like it. And neither would Damien. But she really had no choice. She had to come. Not to stop what was going to happen. When had any female had the power to stop men’s foolishness? But to tell Damien she loved him. To tell him she believed him.

“Just hurry, Johns. Please.”

The carriage rumbled toward the outskirts of the city then slowed to turn down a path that seemed little more than a country lane. They were almost there. The terror churning in the pit of her stomach told her so. She forced herself to look out the window.

Several men stood in a circle across the meadow, their number growing by the second. Olivia couldn’t find Damien and her father, but she knew they were there. She knew Strathern was there, too.

A thick blanket of fog hovered over the low-lying area, wrapping around the somberly dressed men and swirling at their feet like gnarled fingers of dread. Someone would die today. Death was standing at the ready, prepared to snatch its unsuspecting prey. God help her. She didn’t want the victim to be Damien. She couldn’t survive if it were.

As her carriage approached, Olivia searched the area and prayed she was in time. When her eyes finally rested on him, she nearly cried out in relief.

Olivia opened the door and her feet touched the ground. She pushed against the dark-clad figures until, one by one, the men parted to let her through. Their brows arched in surprise and disapproval, but no one said a word about her being there.

For the most part, they stood in silence. The only sounds, other than the gay chirping of waking birds, were the ominous whispers of a few onlookers wagering on the outcome of the duel. Some thought Strathern had an advantage. Hatred was powerful motivation. Others were convinced Damien would be victorious. He was known as a crack shot, and there was his youth.

A huddle of men blocked her path, and before she could make her way past them, their words stopped her.

“It doesn’t matter which of them is the better shot. Not if what I heard is true.”

“What did you hear?”

“The insurance Strathern put on today’s outcome. The price Strathern put on Iversley’s head in case Iversley survives.”

“What insurance?”

“Ten thousand pounds. To whoever kills Iversley. Even if he survives today, he’s a dead man.”

Olivia’s heart thundered in her breast and she shoved past the men in a greater hurry to get to Damien. She had to warn him. Had to tell him what Strathern had done. Had to tell him she loved him.

Damien tried to keep his breathing steady. Tried not to dwell on the fact that he might kill a man today. Or that today he might die.

He shifted his gaze to Strathern, whose loathing was a living, breathing monster that wouldn’t be satisfied until Cassandra’s death was avenged.

Damien recalled the look on Olivia’s face when Strathern had made his accusations. He saw how the bliss had died in her eyes. But it wasn’t the claim that Damien had fathered the child Cassandra was carrying that did the irrepairable damage. Their love would have weathered that storm.

It was what came after that was more devastating.

How could she think that he was marrying her for her father’s ships? How could she doubt that he loved her? How could she not know that she was his world?

A movement to his right caught his attention. His heart froze in his chest.

Olivia was racing across the meadow and didn’t stop until she stood directly in front of him.

“Get the hell away from here, Olivia! Now!”

She shook her head. Her face was lined with worry, her eyes filled with a terror she couldn’t hide. “Don’t do this, Damien.”

“Go away from here, Olivia. Now!” Damien reached for her arm, but she shrugged him off.

“You don’t have to fight him. You know I don’t believe you fathered Cassandra’s babe.”

“And the ships? Do you think I’m only marrying you for your father’s ships?”

“Of course I don’t.”

“That’s not what the look on your face said last night.”

She shook her head. “I didn’t mean it. I couldn’t think. I didn’t know what to say.”

He wanted to believe her. But how could he? He’d seen the look. He’d seen her doubts.

She clasped him harder, her fingers clutching his forearms. “We’ll run away, Damien. Go to France. America. Anywhere. Nothing matters as long as we’re together.”

“Do you hear what you’re saying?”

“I love you, Damien. I don’t want to lose you.”

He looked at her. He wanted to believe her. Deep down in his heart he did, but—

“Go home, Olivia. You don’t belong here.”

“No, Damien. I love you!”

“Go home. We’ll decide what to do when this is over.”

She opened her mouth to plead once more, but he quelled her words with a look. Then his expression changed.

“Olivia—” he began, but didn’t finish his sentence.

He closed his eyes, took a steadying breath, then looked at her father. “Get her out of here, Pellingsworth.”

“No! Damien!” she pleaded.

Her father rushed forward and placed his hand at her back. But before he led her away, he turned back to Damien with a final warning.

“I know your sense of honor dictates you allow Strathern the first shot. You think if you somehow survive, he’ll be satisfied that he has avenged his daughter’s death, and this whole business will be finished. There’s a very good reason why you’re wrong. Strathern won’t miss. He’s an expert shot and he’s killed before. The only way you can escape his revenge is to kill him.”

Damien nodded. Everything Pellingsworth said was true. And he didn’t want Olivia to see the outcome.

Tears streamed down Olivia’s face, and he couldn’t stand to see the heartache he’d caused her. He turned and walked to Strathern and his son Nathan.

Damien stood in front of Strathern and spoke in low, whispered tones she couldn’t hear. Strathern shook his head violently, then replied with an obscene oath. Damien walked away from Strathern and took his place in the center of the two long lines of men that had formed on either side of them.

Olivia stared at Damien, unable to convince herself this travesty was really happening. Unable to convince herself that two grown men intended to kill each other in cold blood. Her knees gave out, and her father wrapped his arm around her shoulders to steady her.

“Papa,” she whispered, her voice a desperate plea. Her father’s answer was to pull her closer and hold her tight. It was all he could do. All anyone could do.

Olivia focused on Damien. He’d removed his jacket and waistcoat and rolled up his shirtsleeves to just below his elbows. His tanned, muscular arms hung at his side, and he clutched a pistol in his right hand.

“Papa, do something,” she pleaded again through the tears that streamed down her cheeks.

“I wish I could, Olivia. But it’s too late. Strathern’s left Damien no choice.”

Olivia wanted to argue further, but stopped when Strathern’s loud voice echoed in the still morning.

“May you rot in hell for what you did to my Cassandra.”

“Enough, Strathern! Let’s have this done,” came Damien’s reply.

“It will never be done. Not until you are dead.”

Strathern’s taunting was cut short when Lord Chastain stepped to the center between the two long lines of observers and held up his hand. In a most austere voice, he laid down the rules: the correct number of steps each man would take away from the other; the forbiddance of either duelist to fire before the white flag hit the ground; the requirement that each duelist be allowed only one shot; the option for either man to default by firing into the air.

Olivia wanted to laugh. The pompous idiot made it sound as if he were listing the rules to a lawn game instead of a duel where someone would die. When he called for Strathern and Damien to take their places, Olivia couldn’t breathe. Chastain cleared his throat and held up his hands for complete silence.

“Lord Strathern, since you were the instigating party in this situation, you will be given one last chance to bring it to a peaceful conclusion here and now. Do you wish to do so?”

“I do not!”

“Very well. On the count of three, you will begin your ten paces. One. Two. Three.”

Damien and Strathern stood back to back, then stepped at the same time. First one step, then a second, then a third.

Olivia stood close to her father. She needed his strength. His support.

Four, five, six, seven.

She kept her eyes focused on Damien. On his ruggedly handsome features, on the strong, powerful arms that had held her with such tenderness. On his full, warm mouth that had kissed her with such passion. And she knew she could never survive without him.

Eight, nine.

A thin film of perspiration covered her forehead and her whole body trembled uncontrollably. In her mind, she screamed the word “No!” over and over until she thought she’d go mad. But still they did not stop.

Before they took their last step, Olivia pushed forward, not knowing what she intended to do. Perhaps come between Damien and the bullet Strathern intended to fire (surely Strathern wouldn’t fire if she stepped in the way). Perhaps to just hold Damien one last time while his flesh was still warm and vibrant with life. Whatever her reason, it didn’t matter.

Her father’s arms tightened around her and held her firm.

Ten.

Strathern and Damien turned at the same moment and Chastain dropped the silly white flag he held in his hand. They both raised their pistols, but Damien didn’t fire.

“Fire, Damien,” her father whispered.

“Fire the bloody gun,” Captain Durham echoed from beside him. “Now.”

For one infinitesimal second, Olivia thought Strathern wouldn’t fire. She thought he’d realized his error. But when she looked into Strathern’s face, she saw eyes so filled with hatred it sent ice water racing through her veins, and she knew how wrong she was.

Strathern waited as if he knew Damien would not fire first, toying with him, prolonging his agony.

“Rot in hell, Iversley.”

Then, with a bitter laugh, Strathern squeezed the trigger.

The bullet hit the right side of Damien’s chest and Olivia muffled a scream.

Please, God. Don’t let him die.

Damien staggered from the impact of the bullet, but his face showed no emotion. He took an uncertain step to the left, then steadied himself enough to bend his right arm at the elbow and fire into the air.