Desire

Chapter Twenty-two

The nightmare was real, Lucian thought, dazed. Brynn stood over him in the darkness, her fiery hair spilling around her shoulders, her hands slick with his blood…

Was he dying? The dull ache in his head-in his entire body-made him think so.

He squeezed his eyes shut, but when he opened them again, Brynn was still there, kneeling beside him, weeping, gently cradling his face with searching fingers. She seemed distraught as she pleaded hoarsely with him, “Lucian, please… please… you can’t die… Dear God, please…”

Her lips moved over his face in frantic despair, as if she truly cared whether he lived or died. As if she truly loved him…

His heart wrenched with hope. Wincing, Lucian stiffly turned his head. The Frenchman lay on his back, eyes wide, his neck twisted at an unnatural angle.

Realization struck Lucian, slicing through his churning thoughts. His nightmare had not come true. He wasn’t dying. He had lived when his enemy had not.

At his brief movement, he heard Brynn inhale sharply, her sobs arrested as she stared down at him. In the dimness, he could see her eyes alight with stark fear, with hope, could see the glitter of tears streaking her cheeks.

“Lucian?” she uttered, her voice raw and trembling.

He raised his hand to brush a tendril of wildly cascading hair from her face. She had lost her seaman’s cap, and her tresses shimmered like dark flame in the faint moonlight.

“I’m alive…” he whispered.

She gave another sob, a strangled sound of pure joy, while her fingers clutched reflexively at his shirt. “I d-didn’t shoot you? ”

“No, your shot hit Jack…” Reacting with primal instinct, Lucian pulled her into his arms, capturing her mouth in a hard caress, needing to feel her warm body pressed against him, needing to share the exhilaration of being alive.

For an instant Brynn froze in startlement at his sudden passion, but then she returned his kiss fervently, with the same desperation. She seemed to be laughing and crying at the same time, relief and gladness profoundly evident in her response.

He held her closer, drinking of her mouth, his arms tightening around her fiercely-until he heard her gasp of pain. His fingers had grasped the upper part of her left arm.

Drawing back, Lucian probed her arm in the darkness, feeling the rent in her jacket. The fabric was wet with blood, he realized, suddenly chilled.

“You’re wounded,” he said, his tone accusing.

Brynn glanced down at her arm, almost in surprise. “I suppose I am.”

His jaw clenched as he remembered what had happened in the cave: Brynn leaping in front of the bullet that was meant for him, deflecting the shot with her lantern just enough to save his life. His heart turned over. Dear God, she had come so close to dying for his sake…

Another realization struck him at the same moment. In his dark dreams, the blood on Brynn’s hands was his, not hers. But this outcome was different; she was the one wounded. She hadn’t sought to kill him as he’d seen in his nightmare. Instead she had saved his life a second time when she’d shot his enemy and kept him from being gutted by Jack’s knife.

Gratitude shuddered through Lucian, mingled with dread at what might have happened to her. He had been so wrong about Brynn.

“It is only a flesh wound,” she murmured at his grim silence, but he wasn’t reassured.

“Are you certain?” he demanded. “You’re not hurt elsewhere?” He reached out to press his hand against her abdomen. “The babe?”

Her hand covered his protectively. “I don’t think it was harmed.”

His frantic thoughts eased a degree.

“You’re bleeding as well,” she said, still concerned. When she touched the split flesh above his eye, Lucian winced. “Where else are you hurt?”

Gingerly he tested his arms and legs. He seemed to be in one piece. “I’m only battered.” He pushed himself up, stifling a groan at the protest of his bruised body.

Brynn shuddered. “Oh, Lucian, I thought… I thought the curse had come true, that I had killed you.”

He had shared her same dark thoughts. “The curse didn’t come true, Brynn.”

“Can you stand?” She glanced at the dead Frenchman and shuddered again. “We should summon a doctor for you and-” She drew a sharp breath, as if remembering. “Grayson… he was badly wounded, Lucian. I need to see to him.”

Before he could reply, they heard the sounds of footsteps on the cliff walk. That would be Philip Barton and his men, Lucian knew.

He mentally voiced an oath. He wanted to be alone with Brynn, for they had a great deal to say to each other. But now they would have no further chance for intimacy for some time. Not when the smugglers must still be dealt with and Grayson’s fate determined.

Grimacing, Lucian set Brynn carefully away and climbed determinedly to his feet.

The next hours were a blur for Brynn. The immediate peril was over, but the future was far from certain-both hers and Gray’s.

The moment his men arrived, Lucian called for a doctor to see to her and her brother, but then he seemed to withdraw from her, as if he’d recalled her crimes now that the danger had passed.

Worried for Gray, Brynn was allowed to return to the cave-but under escort. Her heart sank at the implication of Lucian’s orders: she wasn’t to be trusted alone with her brother. She wondered if she was still under house arrest.

She left Lucian quietly conferring with his collaborator, Philip Barton. Brynn suspected he was dispatching men to intercept the crew of French smugglers and to dispose of Jack’s body, as well as retrieve the stolen gold. Lucian glanced back at her only once before she disappeared through the crevice in the rock wall, urgently seeking her brother.

Grayson lay where she had left him, looking pale and in pain but still conscious. She knelt beside him and opened his jacket to find his shirt soaked in blood. Biting back fear, she tore the cambric away to expose the raw flesh. The wound was on the right side of his chest, just below his armpit. Grayson grimaced in pain as she gently probed.

“The ball passed through,” she murmured in relief, “but I think the rib may be broken.” She touched his forehead, feeling for fever. “Does it hurt badly?”

“Like the very devil.” His eyes searched her face. “What of Wycliff?”

“He’s alive, Gray,” she replied with a shudder. “Jack isn’t.”

“Good,” Gray said with grim satisfaction.

She glanced around her despairingly. “You cannot stay here. We must get you to bed.”

The leader of her guard detail spoke up behind her. “Forgive me, my lady, but I am under orders. I am to make Sir Grayson as comfortable as possible, but he cannot leave the caves. A doctor will be here shortly to tend him, and you as well.”

Brynn stiffened at the callousness of keeping her brother incarcerated here. “Surely it would do no harm to take him to his rooms, even if he is a prisoner. He is in no condition to try to escape.”

Oddly, the guard looked puzzled. “Sir Grayson is not a prisoner, my lady. Lord Wycliff merely does not wish him to be seen by your household servants.”

“Brynn,” Gray murmured, “it’s all right. I would rather not move much just now.”

She hesitated, realizing the futility of arguing. Gray was too wounded to walk, certainly to climb stairs. It would be painful even being carried through the tunnels, and she could not manage the task alone.

“If you won’t allow him to be moved,” Brynn said tersely to the guard, “would you be so kind as to fetch him some blankets? A cold rock floor is no place for a wounded man.”

“Yes, certainly, my lady,” he replied, his tone deferential. “It is being seen to.”

She took off her coat and covered Grayson with it. Then she waited anxiously while the promise of blankets was made good.

A doctor came shortly as well-or at least a man with a medical bag. Brynn had never seen him before, which meant he wasn’t from the district. She could only conjecture that Lucian had anticipated the danger of the operation and brought his own surgeon.

The man tended Gray’s injuries, confirming that the bullet hadn’t lodged in his chest or pierced a lung, but that a rib was shattered. With Brynn holding the lamp, the doctor grimly searched for splinters, then liberally doused the raw flesh with basilicum powder and bandaged the ribs.

“You are a very fortunate man,” the doctor pronounced, “but the wound is quite serious with the bone so fragmented. You may take some months to heal.” He drew up the blankets over his patient, who was clenching his teeth in obvious discomfort. “I regret I can give you only a taste of laudanum for the pain,” the doctor added. “Lord Wycliff wishes you to be alert when he speaks to you.”

Brynn felt a cold knot reform in her stomach. She was greatly relieved to hear her brother’s prognosis, but Gray still faced charges of treason. And while she was infinitely grateful that Lucian was unharmed, her own betrayal had perhaps created an insurmountable obstacle between them.

The doctor bandaged her arm, which was beginning to throb, then took his leave. Brynn sat quietly beside her brother and watched as the strongboxes of gold were retrieved from the pool and carried away.

The men who performed the task scarcely gave her a glance. If they were taken aback by events or by seeing Lord Wycliff’s countess dressed in breeches, they politely pretended not to show it. Not that Brynn could summon the energy to be concerned. After the terrible tension of the past few days, she felt drained, despondent, filled with dread at the punishment her brother would be dealt.

Her nerves were raw again by the time Lucian finally came.

The cut over his eyes had been cleaned of blood, she saw, but his features looked drawn and weary.

He met her gaze only briefly before glancing down at her brother. “I believe we have some important matters left to settle, Sir Grayson.”

“Yes,” he said hoarsely.

“Are you still anxious for me to put a period to your existence, as you were a short while ago?”

Gray’s mouth twisted with dark humor. “No… Lying here, I’ve had time to reconsider. I really don’t want to die.”

Brynn reached out to grasp her brother’s hand, whether giving or seeking comfort she wasn’t certain.

“Am I under arrest?” Gray asked.

“Of a sort.”

“Then you mean to send me to prison?”

“No.” Lucian gazed at him steadily. “Not as long as you honor your pledge to help expose Caliban. He still remains unknown and at large, and despite this night’s work, our prospects of capturing him have suffered. With Jack dead, we are back to where we started. His crew has been apprehended and will be interrogated, of course, but I doubt they know anything about their leader. You are still the closest link we have to Caliban.”

“ I told you, I will help in any way possible. But I cannot endanger my family any further.”

“I agree,” Lucian replied tersely. “Which is why you will have to disappear for a time.”

“Disappear?”

“Go into hiding. It is the only way to ensure your sister and brothers’ safety. As you said, if you are dead, Caliban will no longer have the leverage to blackmail you. So you will be presumed dead. We will put out the story that you were drowned at sea, that your body was never recovered.”

“Will anyone believe it?”

“I don’t see why not. I mean to say that you were in my employ all along. You have been working for the British government, Sir Grayson, trying to get close to the smugglers and win their confidence.” Lucian paused. “There is no proof otherwise.”

“You would do that for me?” Gray asked, his tone hoarse.

Lucian shot Brynn an enigmatic glance. “Yes. You were only aiding me in my duty, attempting to keep my wife safe. If you cannot be found, Caliban will no longer threaten her or your brothers. Once we catch him, you can return to the world. It may be some months, however. Caliban has proven damnably elusive. But you can use the interval to recover. The doctor tells me you will be bedridden for a time.”

Brynn let out the breath she had been holding. Grayson was not going to prison. She felt tears fill her eyes as she squeezed his hand.

When Gray remained silent, deep in thought, she spoke up. “What do we tell our brothers… Theo? They will be devastated to think Grayson dead.”

“If their acting skills are good enough, you can tell them the truth. Their grief must be convincing enough to fool Caliban, though.”

“Theo will consider it a lark,” Gray asserted. “And I’m certain we can count on the others to keep up the pretense.”

“At least the presumption of your drowning avoids one problem,” Lucian expounded. “If there is no body, there will be no immediate question of your heir assuming your title and holdings, so there will be no legal mess to sort out when you return to life.”

“Where will Grayson go?” Brynn asked.

“I thought Scotland. I have property in the Highlands where he will be safe. One of my ships is anchored at Falmouth and can convey him there.” His gaze focused again on Gray. “My colleague, Philip Barton, will accompany you. You can use the journey to tell him everything you know about Caliban. If you agree to the plan, I will have a stretcher brought in to carry you to the ship.”

“Now?” Brynn repeated. “So soon?”

“Tonight?” Gray asked.

“It will be best if you disappear immediately,” Lucian answered. “The subterfuge may become too difficult to sustain otherwise. If your servants see you wounded, it will be harder to make credible your sudden disappearance at sea.”

Brynn suddenly comprehended. “That was why you didn’t want Gray moved from the caves.”

“Yes,” Lucian replied. “Then you agree to my plan, Sir Grayson?”

Gray looked at Brynn, who nodded, unable to speak for the tears in her throat. Lucian had given her brother a reprieve. She could not have imagined he would be so generous. She returned Lucian’s gaze fervently.

“Thank you,” she uttered, her heart filled with gratitude.

Gray echoed her sentiment. “Yes, I thank you, my lord. I know I don’t deserve such leniency. As for your plan, I will do whatever you think best.”

Lucian seemed to brush off his thanks with a hard stare. “You should have come to me first. I trust I needn’t warn you of the consequences if you ever dare involve your sister in treason again?”

Gray’s mouth curled in a harsh smile. “No, I need no warning.”

“Very well then… I expect you will want a few moments to say farewell. I have some matters to tie up, so I will leave you two alone.” His glance went to Brynn, but she couldn’t read his expression. “We still have a great deal to discuss.”

“Yes,” she murmured.

“Perhaps you will await me in your rooms. I will join you there when I can.”

“Very well.”

Brynn bit her trembling lower lip as she watched him leave, not knowing how to interpret Lucian’s sudden coolness.

Realizing her brother was watching her, though, she forced herself to wipe her eyes. “I can scarcely credit Lucian is letting you go free,” she remarked, trying to summon a smile.

“It is solely for your sake, Brynn. I think he must care for you a great deal.”

She bit her lip, unable to let herself hope. “We should have gone to Lucian from the start, I see that now. It might have spared us a great deal of terror. Perhaps if you had told me earlier what you were facing…”

“I’m sorry for what I put you through,” Gray said quietly.

“I know, dearest.” Bending, she embraced him carefully, mindful of his injury. “But if you ever dare become involved in something so dangerous again and try to shoulder the burden all yourself, I swear I truly will shoot you myself.”

A short while later she stood at the window of her bedchamber, waiting for her husband to come… for her fate to be decided.

Her farewell to Gray had been bittersweet, filled with both relief and sadness. She’d watched as her brother was carried away on a stretcher, knowing how fortunate he was to be given a second chance.

Would she be given the same chance?

Brynn shivered as she stared out at the night. The storm had apparently passed them by, leaving a few clouds of mist scudding across the dark sky. The faint moonlight painted the ocean silver, transforming it into a cold, flickering mirror.

She felt just as cold; she felt empty, aching. She wouldn’t blame Lucian in the least if he hated her for what she had done.

Trying not to think about it, Brynn busied herself stoking the fire. She froze when she heard the door to her bedchamber open and then slowly shut. Hardly daring to breathe, she turned to face Lucian.

He stood just inside the room, his features eclipsed by shadow, much as he had looked earlier in the evening when she’d attempted to drug him.

Was that only hours ago?

He was the first to speak. “How is your arm?”

“It throbs a little, but it’s nothing, really. Merely a flesh wound.”

His eyes narrowed as he stepped into the light. “I don’t consider a bullet wound ‘nothing.” That was a damned foolish thing to do, Brynn, lunging in front of me.“

“You’re welcome,” she retorted, stung to defiance by his criticism.

His voice was unnervingly quiet when he replied. “You could have been killed.”

She couldn’t tell whether that prospect would have saddened him or not. “Would it have mattered to you?”

“Certainly it would have mattered.” There was a moment’s pause before he added, “You are carrying my child, did you consider that?”

Brynn’s hand went to her abdomen in dismay. “No, I didn’t stop to think.”

He moved toward her, his gaze piercing as it bored relentlessly into her. “You didn’t realize you were endangering our child?”

“Not at that moment. All I thought about was that Jack meant to shoot you and that I had to stop him.”

Lucian halted a short distance from her. She could see the tightness in his face, could sense the thrumming tension coiled in his hard, elegant body.

She regarded him in mute wretchedness. He cared deeply about their child, she knew, but did he care about her in the least? Perhaps he couldn’t forgive her for her crimes after all.

“I’m sorry,” she said finally, miserably.

To her shock, Lucian reached up to touch her cheek. “No, I am the one who should be sorry. For doubting you. You saved my life, Brynn.” Her breath caught as his thumb brushed the corner of her mouth. “You terrified me,” he whispered. “I thought I would die of fear when you stepped in front of that bullet.”

She returned his searching gaze, unable to speak for the hope filling her.

“My dream was wrong, wasn’t it?” Lucian murmured. “In my nightmare, you are standing over me as I lie dying. You want me dead. But you couldn’t want my death if you were willing to give your life for me.”

“That dream is terribly wrong.” Brynn felt tears spring to her eyes. “Your death is the last thing I would ever want.” She gazed up at him earnestly. “I know I betrayed you, Lucian, but I only wanted to keep you safe. Even if you can never forgive me… I did it for you.”

“I know that now, love. I regret I ever distrusted you. I should have listened to my heart, not my head.”

She gazed at him with longing. “Your heart?”

Taking her hand, he pressed her palm to his chest. “I love you, Brynn. I have for a long time, even though I refused to acknowledge it.”

For a long moment she simply stared. Then blindly she walked into his arms. Burying her face in his shoulder, she gave a sob. “I thought you hated me…”

“No, I could never hate you.” His arms wrapped around her, holding her close. “Even when I thought the worst… Ah, don’t cry, Brynn.” He could feel love and despair pulse through her body, feel her trembling.

“I fought against loving you,” he murmured. “I tried to convince myself that what I felt was merely an obsession. But I should have realized the truth much sooner.”

She shuddered. “The thought of you hating me tore me apart.”

He drew back, gazing down at her, seeing her lashes spiky with tears. Her hair in the firelight shimmered like molten embers. Gently he touched her face. “You arouse any number of feelings in me, siren. You make me burn with passion or fear or fury, but never hate.”

She gave a shaky laugh. “Certainly fury. I’ve given you ample reason to be furious with me.”

“Even so, I’ve loved you almost from the first time I saw you.”

Slowly Brynn shook her head. “It was only the curse.”

“No,” he said gravely. “Perhaps a spell could make me want you, desire you, but it couldn’t make me love you. I love you, Brynn, not because of any Gypsy spell or your physical allure, but because of the woman you are. You make me feel complete. You fill the part of my soul that was missing.”

“Oh, Lucian…”

He took a deep breath, seeking courage. “Brynn, I know ours was to be a marriage of convenience, that you wanted us to live apart after our child is born, but I hope to God you will reconsider. I want to be your husband, Brynn. Loved, honored, cherished for all the world to see.”

Her expression softened. “You are loved, Lucian. I told you the truth earlier tonight. I love you. I was afraid to admit it only because of the curse. I hope you believe me.”

“How can I not believe you after tonight?” Lucian asked, his voice suddenly husky. “You proved your love more than adequately, throwing yourself in front of a bullet meant for me…” He shuddered with soul-deep terror, realizing how close he had come to losing Brynn. He had wealth, titles, all the privileges money and rank could buy, but they were all worthless if he lost the one thing that mattered most. And he knew Brynn felt something similar if she had been willing to sacrifice herself for him.

His brows drew together as he recalled something she had said earlier. “What was it the Gypsy at the fair told you? That you must be willing to give your life for me?”

“That I had to love you enough, yes.”

“If her prophecy is true, then the curse should be broken.”

Her eyes widened. “Perhaps it is,” she said in wonder.

Lucian held her gaze. “So you don’t intend to leave me?”

“No. I never wanted us to live separate lives. I only thought I must to protect you.”

“The best way to protect me is to stay with me. I might as well cut out my heart if you leave me.”

“I won’t ever leave you, Lucian. I can’t live without you. I know that now.”

The soft light in her eyes reflected her quiet smile, catching his heart and sending it thudding after his racing pulse.

He drew her into his arms once more, pressing his lips against her hair, his relief overwhelming. Only now was he realizing how desperately he needed her love, how rare and precious that love was.

Brynn stood in the warmth of his embrace, cherishing the feel of his hard body against hers. She could feel her fear easing. Perhaps the curse had indeed been broken because she had risked her life for him. If so, then she was free to love Lucian with all her heart.

“I love you so much,” she murmured, repeating her own declaration of love.

That made him raise his head. His voice was gentle, as were his eyes. “I’m not certain I know why. I’ve never given you any reason to love me.”

“That isn’t true. What you did for Theo was reason enough. And now Grayson… I thank you from the bottom of my heart, Lucian. Can you ever forgive me for what I did?”

“Only if you can forgive me.” His soft laughter was self-mocking. “What an arrogant bastard I was… Arrogant, selfish, thinking only of myself, my own needs. I thought I could easily charm you into doing my bidding. I forced you to conceive a child because that was what I wanted… You deserved more, Brynn. I would say that you have far more to forgive than I do.”

“But still…”

He pressed his fingers to her lips. “No more regrets about the past. We have only the future ahead of us.”

His arms encircled her once more, and she reciprocated, relishing his embrace. For a long moment they simply held each other, until Lucian broke the silence with a quiet question.

“Brynn, will you come away with me?”

“Come away with you? Where?”

“I thought the castle in Wales, the one I gave you as a belated wedding gift.”

Pulling back, Brynn glanced up at him, trying not to leap to conclusions. “Why?” she asked, feigning lightness. “You want to incarcerate me there to keep me from committing treason again? ”

“Not in the least. You said I don’t know you well, and it’s true. But I want that chance to know you, Brynn, and for you to know me. We need time to explore each other, time for love and trust to build. If we were to go away together, we could have that time. It could be a new start for our marriage.”

“But what of your duty? You have yet to apprehend Caliban.”

“I’ve come to realize you’re far more important to me than apprehending traitors. There will likely be a lull in his treachery in any case. We dealt a blow to his ring tonight, and he will have to reorganize. I’m not proposing we live there forever, merely visit for a few weeks.”

“I should like that,” she said softly. “A new beginning.”

The smoldering look in his eyes made her breath catch.

He bent his head to kiss her, to seal their pledge. Fire flowed between them as their lips met, fire and want and need.

Lucian felt himself tremble with it. Fierce desire burned through him, desire that had nothing to do with any curse.

They would make a new beginning, Lucian vowed solemnly. Yet this time he would earn Brynn’s love. He would prove himself worthy of her. And he wouldn’t rest till he had wholly won the enchantress who had enslaved his heart and soul.