The Stolen Bride (30 page)

He had never heard a more outrageous lie.

“He tripped,” she tried to explain.

“How badly are you hurt?” he asked, a dark, dangerous need settling over him.

“I’m not hurt.” Her smile was brief and strained. “Sean, I must warn you— Colonel Reed is at Kilraven Hill and he has confessed to murdering your wife!”

Shock immobilized him. For one instant, even his mind was paralyzed.

“He is a madman,” she whispered, and tears came to her eyes. “He is coming after you, Sean. I had to come back to warn you!”

Reed had done this to her and he knew it. He knew it the way he knew that it was drizzling and about to pour. “You are to tell me everything…Eleanor,” he said, his tone so hard even he didn’t recognize it.

She jerked away from him. “Sean! There is nothing more to tell except that he purposefully set his troops on your poor wife. I am very afraid of him and you should be, too.”

His heart beat now, hard but slow. A calm had de
scended. “So a spy informed on us. You were apprehended by troops and taken to Reed…at Kilraven Hill.”

She was staring at him, wide-eyed. Her face was utterly pale, causing the dark bruise to stand out garishly. “Nothing happened,” she said.

He felt a convulsion ripple through him. “How did you get here?”

She swallowed. “Captain Brawley helped me escape.”

He tilted up her chin.

Tears filled her eyes.

“Don’t lie to me,” he warned.

“But I’m fine.”

“He struck you, didn’t he? Did he touch you, too?” And in his mind, Reed turned red, bursting into flames.

She started to shake her head no and then the emotion changed, becoming an affirmation. She started to cry, two large tears slowly tracking down her face.

He was going to kill Colonel Robert Reed
.

“It’s all right,” he soothed, taking her by her arms. “Elle, I’m here now, and I will never let him touch you again.”

She nodded, her gaze glued to his. “I was so afraid.”

“What did he do?” he asked, amazed at how calm his tone was, when he was beyond rage.

She had trouble speaking.

He leaned down and brushed her lips softly with his. “Tell me, Elle.”

She nodded. “He was so rude. Sean, he is not afraid of anyone, not father. Not Ty, not anyone! No one has ever addressed me as he did, much less—” She stopped, more tears falling.

He pulled her close and held her. She buried her face against his chest, gasping in anguish. He held her more tightly. He had to know. “Did he rape you?”

“No.”

He stared and she stared back. “Then why are you wearing a man’s shirt…over your gown?”

Her mouth crumbled.

Sean unfastened her cloak and tossed it into the dirt and mud. He reached for her shirt and saw his hands shaking, betraying his own fury and anguish. He began to unbutton it. Elle reached for his hands to stop him but he ignored her, and as each button was released, the tear in her bodice became increasingly visible. He pulled the shirt open. Two pins kept the front of her gown closed.

He was suddenly sick enough to retch. “Don’t lie to me.”

“He didn’t…do what you asked. He used a
blade—a letter opener—on my dress.” She looked away, closing her eyes, starkly white.

She had been cherished, respected and protected her entire life. His worst fears had come true. Reed had reappeared in his life and he had gotten his hands on her. He saw no difference between cruelty and molestation and rape.

He pulled her close again. She held on to him tightly. He stroked her back, her hair. “Where is Reed now?”

“I don’t know,” she murmured against his chest. “Brawley was allowed to help me escape—Reed intended to follow us, correctly thinking I would return to you. Sean, the things he said to me!”

He met her anguished eyes and stroked her hair again. “Once you are safely back at Adare, you will begin to forget…that anyone could dare to treat you so dishonorably. Where is Brawley?”

“I left him hours ago. We agreed he would not be privy to your whereabouts. I think we eluded the troops, but obviously Reed must be lurking about Cork.”

He nodded. It would not be hard to lure Reed out of whatever rat hole he was in. And he began to relish the prospect of facing him and taking his bare hands to his throat, so he could slowly choke the life out of him.

She understood him completely, because she said,
“You can’t assault another officer. You cannot—I will not allow it.”

He touched her left cheek, which was not bruised. “I am sorry, Elle, but Reed is going to pay…for his murdering ways.”

“He will kill you.”

Sean thought that likely. Lying smoothly, he denied it. “I will strike when he least expects it…in the dark…like a coward. He will never know what hit him and this will be over, Elle. You will be able to sleep at night.”

She shook her head fiercely. “I am not the one with nightmares! I am not the one who cannot sleep peacefully because of what Reed did to Peg and Michael! Do not seek vengeance for me. I am fine, Sean.” She inhaled. “Please, do not go after Reed. Father is seeking a pardon for you in London, even as we speak. There will be no pardon, not now, not ever, if you assault Reed!”

“I could never live with myself if I let him walk away…from what he has done to you!” he cried.

“I am
fine!
” she cried, weeping. “But I have never seen such a look in your eyes. Nothing I say will change your mind, will it? You are going to seek vengeance now and we both know that will be your death.”

“Don’t cry for me,” he said, wishing he could
have somehow spared her this. “Come here.” He pulled her against his chest again.

She didn’t press her cheek there; she strained upward, seeking his mouth, her lips urgent, frantic. And it crossed his mind that this was the end for them. He was going to walk away from Elle in order to avenge her, and then he would hang—if Reed’s troops didn’t slaughter him on the spot. In that moment, his body stiffened with a huge, desperate, consuming hunger.

She felt the change in him. Elle pulled her mouth from his and met his gaze, hers wide, surprised.

He took her hand. “Come.” He pulled her behind the house, into his arms and to the ground. She cried out, her response filled with the same desperate need.

Their mouths mated and quickly, so did their bodies. Thrusting his tongue deep, he moved her skirts aside, reaching for her. She gasped with pleasure, reaching for the buttons on his breeches. Sean hesitated, overcome as her hands skidded over his length, his thickness. And his last thoughts of revenge vanished.

He lay back, gasping for air, and she pulled the breeches apart. Her long hair fell over him, entwining there. He could not stand it and he was prepared to beg, but he did not have to. She slid her tongue
over him and he found her face, holding it, whispering her name. “Elle.”

And then he moved, reversing their positions, their gazes briefly meeting. Instantly he pushed his body between her legs and he slid deeply into her.

She threw her arms around him, clinging, as he rode her. “Don’t let me go,” he said. “Ever.”

F
OR ONE MOMENT,
Eleanor lay in Sean’s arms, realizing that she remained as deeply in love with him as ever. She was so afraid now, not just of Reed, but of what Sean planned. Still breathless, she sat up, arranging her skirts. “We have to go. Sean, is Cliff’s ship nearby? Even if it is being watched,
The Fair
Lady
is our best chance to escape.”

“I want you aboard that ship,” he said decisively. “You’re right. We have to go.” He stood, turning his back and quickly fastening his breeches.

She leaped to her feet, realizing what he intended. “Damn it! You think to drop me with Cliff while you commit suicide?” She began to bargain desperately. “Don’t do this, Sean. If you insist that I go home—to Sinclair—I will. You can go to America and I will go home.”

He faced her, sadness in his eyes. “It’s too late for negotiations. Let’s go. We’ll ride double.”

Eleanor balked. “No. I am not leaving you so that you can destroy yourself and your life.”

He stared at her, his expression stone cold. “Don’t make me force you onto that horse.”

Eleanor had never seen anyone so determined, but she could not give up. “If you love me at all, you will choose to live—and not go after Colonel Reed.”

He stiffened. Anguish flickered in his eyes. “That is not fair.”

“Nothing is fair!” She thought she sounded hysterical.

He shook his head, anger darkening his expression, and started for the other side of the house where she had left the cavalry mount grazing. And Eleanor heard the riders.

So did Sean. He whirled, eyes wide. “Get in the house,” he said tersely. “There’s a trap door by the bedstead. Use it.”

She had only an instant to decide. “I’m not leaving you. You don’t even have a weapon!”

“I have my hands,” he said, giving her a furious look. He started around the house.

Eleanor ran after him, expecting to see Reed and his men riding into the yard. Already envisioning Sean’s attack on the officer and the consequences, she could almost see his slain body on the ground.
But Sean halted and she collided into his back. Then she saw Devlin, Tyrell and Rex.

They had halted their horses on the other side of the front yard. For one moment, the men stared at each other. A huge silence had fallen—and then Eleanor saw the three of them look at her.

She didn’t care if their recent lovemaking was obvious. She ran past Sean. “You have to stop him!” She turned to Devlin, because he was Sean’s older brother and Sean had always deferred to him. “He intends to murder Colonel Reed!”

Devlin leaped from his mount, as did Tyrell. Rex still rode astride, a superior horseman in spite of his handicap. Devlin reached her first. His gaze moved over her features and then he went to Sean. The brothers stared and Devlin cursed. “Bloody fool!” Then he embraced Sean as if he were a child, holding him for a long moment.

Eleanor had never been more relieved. She now faced Tyrell, as Rex limped toward them, leaning on his crutch. “You have to stop him, Ty.”

“I intend to do my best. You are hurt.”

“Barely!”

He tilted up her chin and stared into her eyes. “You have a choice to make, Eleanor. You must choose between Sean, who may never survive these
events, and Sinclair, who remains at Adare, waiting for your return. And there is little time.”

Eleanor turned to look at Sean.

Devlin had released him and Sean was staring at her, his gaze wide and intense.

“There is no choice to make,” she whispered. Nothing had changed. Sean was her life.

Sean was grim as he moved toward them. “She chooses Sinclair,” he said.

Eleanor cried out. And she saw tears forming in his silver eyes.

Tyrell said, the weight of authority and danger in his tone, “Do you care to explain yourself to her?”

Sean didn’t even look at him. “Elle.” He stopped as if he could not speak.

She was crying, and she shook her head, her silent way of begging him one last time to change his mind.

He had become pale. “I must do this. I could never bear the burden of what has happened…if I allowed Reed to get away with what he has done.”

“I am fine,” she whispered, the lie now solidly etched in her mind.

“You are not fine! And he will pay for his monstrous behavior! We both know…I will not survive this day.”

She went to him. She was sobbing now and could not get a single word out.

But he smiled at her. “If things were different, if I could redo my entire life, I would have never left Askeaton four years ago. If I were not a fugitive…I would marry you. Elle, I love you.”

Eleanor lost her ability to stand. It wasn’t Sean who caught her, it was Tyrell.

“I am going to take you to Cliff,” Tyrell said softly. “Rex and Devlin will stay with Sean.”

She shook her head, wanting to tell him that she would stay until the very end. She was not leaving Sean’s side now.

Hoofbeats thundered.

And Eleanor knew it was Reed and his troops. She staggered upright, turning, Tyrell keeping his arm around her as a dozen soldiers galloped into the front yard, blue coats and white shoulder belts gleaming. The troops halted, Reed at their forefront.

A terrible silence fell, punctuated only by the blowing horses and their jangling bits.

Sean was smiling.

Eleanor could not look away, sick with fear.

He glanced at Devlin. Devlin unsheathed his sword, the same long saber he had worn as a captain in the royal navy, and tossed it to him. Eleanor felt her heart lurch with dread as Sean caught it easily by the hilt. His gaze returned to Reed.

Reed smiled. “A viper’s nest—or should I amend my choice of words?” His saber rang as it appeared in his hand.

Sean did not answer. He strode past Eleanor and Tyrell, past Rex, toward Reed.

Reed spurred his mount forward. “An entire nest of Irish traitors,” Reed murmured, sounding pleased. “O’Neill, you are under arrest.”

“Dismount.” Sean spoke softly, so softly his words were almost inaudible; yet somehow, everyone in the yard knew exactly what he wanted.

“Arrest him,” Reed said, dancing his horse aside and just out of Sean’s reach.

“Coward.” Sean’s cold smile never wavered.

Reed’s smile vanished. He promptly leaped from his horse and he was far too agile. Eleanor’s dismay increased.

The two men faced one another like fencing masters, swords poised high to strike. Sean’s eyes glittered—and so did Reed’s.

“En garde,” Reed murmured.

And Sean struck—but Reed parried the blow.

Eleanor knew that all of her brothers were superior swordsmen, but Sean had not held a sword in two years—if not more. He was at a terrible disadvantage. Her heart slammed as she watched the
two men swiftly engage. Their swords rang and clashed, blow after blow, stalemated. Sean advanced; Reed retreated. Reed advanced, Sean retreated. The seconds turned into agonizing minutes; Sean’s face was gleaming with sweat. Reed’s face was as wet, but now both men were fiercely focused and determined. Someone was going to die that day. Their swords clashed and rang again.