The Hawk and the Jewel (Kensington Chronicles 1) (40 page)

Sunny heard the shuffle of feet just a moment too late. A hand was clamped firmly over her mouth and she was borne to the ground. She began to struggle in earnest as the tearing of cloth came to her ears, and all at once the night air touched her legs, back, and shoulders.

Sunny fought with everything that was in her, trying desperately to free her mouth, but there seemed to be hands all over her.

"Where is it?" a voice demanded.

"I can't find it," another answered.

When Sunny felt hands moving on her legs she bit the hand over her mouth. She was able to get out one desperate yell before she was stifled again.

As quickly as the attackers had come, they were gone. Sunny lay where they left her, every part of her trembling in fear and shock. Even when she heard more footsteps, she could not make herself move. Someone was there now, calling her name and touching her shoulder. Sunny scrambled back away from the hand as
fast
as she could move.

"Don't touch me," she sobbed, and then she saw a crowd and heard Brandon telling someone to bring a blanket. It was in his hands before she could blink. He spoke softly as he approached.

"You're going to get cold if we don't cover you. Let me put the blanket around you and then we'll go in and send for Chelsea. You'd like to see Chelsea wouldn't you?"

"I don't want anyone to touch me.'*

"I won't, but we need to keep you warm."

She tried
to
move away when he came closer, but she was trembling so much she was out of strength. She flinched and shrunk away from him as best she could, but he kept his word, and she felt only the blanket as it surrounded her.

"I'm going to lift you now,** he was saying as he carefully covered her.

"No Brandon, no. Please-** Sunny begged him but he ignored her and lifted her in his arms.

Sunny told herself to fight, but the feel of him and the smell of his coat made her sob. Her tears approached hysterics as she dung to him. Brandon cradled her tenderly against his chest all the way upstairs to her bedroom.

"Where are you putting me?" Sunny cried suddenly when she felt the mattress beneath her.

"Your own bed. It's the best place for you right now." He tried to reason with her, but she was struggling to keep him near. "Sunny, what is it?"

"Don't leave me," she cried, clutching at him frantically. "I know you're angry, Brandon, but please don't leave me until Chelsea comes. Please, Brandon. I know we've had words, but I need you here."

"Shhh," he hushed her gently and stayed close enough so she could touch him. She was trembling violently, and her trembling, along with her words, made him feel as if someone had thrust a knife into his side.

"I won't go," he told her softly and pressed a kiss on her brow, his hand covering the trembling one that dung to his shirt. **I won't ever leave if you don't want me to. Chelsea has been sent for and so has the doctor."

Brandon kept up a steady flow of talk, but Sunny heard little of it. Some of the shock was lessened and her mind, terrorized as it was, was trying to work through the attack. She remembered that the men had immediately ripped her clothing and searched her. And their voices, their accents, were so familiar. Thirteen years ago...

Sunny's mind stopped there. What she was thinking was just too impossible for words. Could she really trust her own ears when she had been so terrified? Before she could work it through, she heard Chelsea's voice. She thought she might be able to hold her tears even with seeing her, but then Rand's face came into view. He had been in London on business, and Sunny had forced herself not to yearn for someone who couldn't be there. The sight of him standing at the foot of her bed as Chdsea's arms surrounded her was more than she could take. Blackness came crowding in.

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"Actually, I'm quite pleased that she slept through the entire examination," the doctor told Brandon and Rand. "There are scratches on her, as though she was searched by someone with long fingernails," he said thoughtfully, "but other than the area around her mouth, she's not even bruised."

Rand was so weak with relief that he couldn't even stand. Brandon saw the doctor to the door and rejoined his brother-in-law. Neither one spoke for a few moments and when Chelsea came in the door, Brandon rose in alarm.

"Who's with Sunny?"

"Tildy," Chelsea told him calmly and watched as he slumped back down.

"This is all my fault," Rand spoke raggedly.

"No, Rand," Chelsea began, but her husband shook his head.

Just after the doctor had come, Rand had called the entire staff to search the grounds for the intruders, but they had found nothing. Brandon sent two groomsmen to the village to summon the constable.

When all were gathered, Tildy stepped forth to tell Rand that Wilson, Tina, and Sunny's long-time maid, Christie, were all missing.

Rand's heart, already in agony over the night's events, plummeted. He'd been so sure about Wilson, and when he had found out that Tina had been a maid at Heather's, he had reassured Sunny on that end too. Christie was a mystery to everyone.

Now Rand sat fingering Sunny's ruined dress. It had been slashed repeatedly. What had they been searching for? He began to pray.

"I've been formulating some plans," Brandon stated, breaking into Rand's thoughts. "When Sunny wakes up, I don't want you to say anything to her. I'm leaving for London tonight-"

Brandon went on to outline his plan in a soft voice, Rand's and Chelsea's heads bent close to his own.

"She won't like it," Chelsea said when he was through.

"But it's the best thing to do," Rand interjected. "I wish I'd thought of it." Rand praised God that Brandon was stepping in.

rtl realize Sunny won't be too happy, but I'm not about to have her sit around here and wait for the next attack," Brandon said as he stood. "I'll be back in two days, possibly less. Tell Sunny I'll explain everything later."

Brandon took his leave, and Rand and Chelsea went upstairs. Chelsea climbed into bed next to Sunny, who never stirred, and Rand made himself comfortable on the daybed by the window, his gun beneath his pillow. Surprisingly, all slept through the night. The turmoil didn't begin again until Brandon returned.

313

~Q/we&

ttl won't GO," sunny told brandon, only to be ignored.

"Chelsea, get someone in here to pack Sunny's trunk. We're leaving in one hour."

Sunny gritted her teeth in frustration when Chelsea moved to do as he bade. She turned from the door to find Brandon studying her.

"I tried asking you, Sunny, but you wouldn't budge." Brandon's voice was soft, but Sunny caught the underlying hint of steel. "You
are
leaving Ravenscroft today. I know you're not feeling at your best, and I wish you liked the idea more, but even if you hate me forever, I'm going to see you safely away from here."

All of Sunny's anger drained away. "I don't hate you," she responded. "But you're treating me as if I have no mind at all. I really don't think they'll come back. They obviously know that whatever they're searching for is not here-" she stopped when she could see he was not listening.

"Brandon!" Sunny spoke in frustration. "I'm not an idiot!"

He came to her then and put his hands on her arms. "I know you're not an idiot." His voice was deep and passionate. "What you are, is someone very dear to me, someone I plan on protecting from whomever is out there, and even from herself if necessary."

Brandon's hands moved to frame her face. He bent low and pressed his lips against her forehead.

"We are leaving here in one hour," he whispered, holding her eyes with his own. "Unless you want to leave this house in your robe, you had better get dressed, Sunny."

He was out her bedroom door before she could reply. Chelsea had come in on his departure, and Sunny could only stare at her. It felt as if the whole world had joined forces against her.

What Sunny didn't realize was how much Chelsea had missed this Brandon. This was the Brandon who had sailed without hesitation to Darhabar to bring Rand's sister home. This was the Brandon who captained his own ship with skill and success, and then stepped with confidence into the title of Duke of Briscoe upon their grandfather's death.

This was the Brandon who had been missing since Dinah walked away from him and he had realized his love for Sunny. Chelsea didn't know what was to happen next, but the real Brandon had returned, and in that she took great comfort. She also knew that Brandon's words had been wise: England was no longer safe; not until they found out who was trying to harm Sunny.

The ride to London, all three hours of it, was made in almost corn plete silence. Sunny asked once where they were going, only to be told by Brandon that he would explain everything as soon as he was able. She saw that she was going to have to be content with that. Even though she was not angry, she was not in the mood to converse either.

Brandon was just as glad for the silence. He praised God that Dallas Knight had been in port, and more than willing to help out, when Brandon had ridden to London two days earlier. He prayed that since that time, Dallas had found enough time to take care of every need.

The carriage lurched into a hole in the next moment, and Brandon heard his pistols move where they were concealed beneath the seat. His eyes flew to Sunny, but she was lost in thought, and Brandon knew she hadn't noticed. Even so, Brandon continued to watch her.

This was no arduous task. Considering she hadn't wanted to leave, she was as beautifully turned out as ever in a navy traveling suit and matching hat. Smiling, he saw Grandmama Sunny's ring on her finger. Sunny noticed, and Brandon watched her brows raise in question.

"I was just thinking about the night I gave you that ring," he confessed.

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Sunny brought her right hand up for inspection. She smiled at the memory too and thought once again how dear the ring had been to her all these years. Unfortunately, the smile was short-lived. When she again turned to look out the window, she told herself that Brandon only smiled because he still saw her as that little 14-year-old girl.

Dallas* gaze flicked back to the woman. Obviously Brandon's worry-and trouble-free days were over. It looked as though "trouble" had come in the form of a slim, chestnut-haired beauty with deep amethyst eyes.

Dallas watched the Hawkesbury coach stop on the dock. His ship rocked easily beneath his wide-legged stance, and his brows raised in surprise when the door opened and first Brandon, and then a woman, stepped down.

Why, Dallas was asking himself, had he been under the impression that Brandon was bringing a young girl on board for protection? As they drew near, Dallas could see that he couldn't have been more mistaken. She was very definitely a woman, and a beauty at that. Dallas' eyes lingered on her a moment, and he nodded briefly when her eyes met his. Watching her as she moved, Dallas realized she hadn't spoken a word.

Sunny walked away from the men and stood near the rigging. Brandon had watched the interplay, and Dallas found the older man's eyes on him when he looked back.

Brandon smiled at him suddenly and was rewarded with a white-toothed grin. The men were alike in height and build, but Dallas' skin was deeply tanned from his days at sea. With dark wavy brown hair and crystal blue eyes, Dallas looked as much like a pirate as anyone could imagine. His pants and knee-high boots were black, and his shirt was dazzling white with billowing sleeves and an open neckline. He even sported a small gold hoop in one ear.

"I'd forgotten what a handsome scoundrel you were, Dallas," Brandon admitted grudgingly.

Dallas' grin only widened.

"Whatever you do," Brandon spoke again, this time only half joking, "don't let her fell for you. I don't think I could handle that."

Dallas' cnuckle was low as he watched Brandon walk away. "The Grand Duke,** as Dallas teasingly called him, was as charming as they came and had never been troubled with females. The two men had always agreed that God would provide the perfect mates someday, and in the meantime, there was no use worrying or asking for trouble.

By the time Sunny sat down to supper that night, she was nearly out on her feet. She was hungry, but when Brandon sat down across from her and urged her to eat, she knew she couldn't take anymore. It took a moment for Brandon to see that she was staring at him and hadn't touched her plate.

"Eat up, Sunny," he told her.

"I want to know what's going on," she stated resolutely, her voice soft.

"As soon as we eat," Brandon replied, thinking he had never seen her look so drained.

Sunny didn't move a muscle; she hardly even blinked. Her hands were folded sedately in her lap, but she told herself that she wouldn't do another thing until she knew why she was on this ship.

Brandon easily read all of this on her face and put his fork next to his plate.

"I've known Dallas Knight since my sailing days. He's an American who trades in our waters. I'd trust him with my life; yours too. When you were attacked, I contacted him and told him I had to get someone out of England quickly. I really didn't feel I had a choice, Sunny. I know my actions seem highhanded, but on land anyone can be hiding in the next room and listening to every word.