His Candlemas Hope Page 17

  “You seek to murder him.” Her fear faded away fast. Anger replaced it, flaring inside of her. Anger coupled with soul sucking dread. She wanted to strike him down dead.

  Patience.

  She had to bide her time. She had to wait for the right moment.

  “Oh, I don’t seek to, I shall make certain he doesn’t leave that field alive. In a way, you could say that I am doing the world a service. It isn’t as if he will leave too many mourners in his wake. He is a filthy street rat, and he should have never been raised out of that position. I shall only be putting him back where he belongs. In the dirt.”

  “I wouldn’t exactly call Lord Langford a street rat in his former life. He might not have had our advantages, but he wasn’t quite as low as you portray him. He was educated, and he worked hard to achieve the greatness that has been bestowed upon him.” Pride rang through her love, and her voice cracked with emotion.

  “You love him,” Hugo accused, surprise echoing through his voice. “You don’t just love him—you are bloody mad about the bastard.”

  “Yes…yes, I am.”

  “Ah, this is delightful. You will have to see the man you love, die. And I get to watch it all. Well, your devilish magic can’t stop him. Not now. You can’t stop me. I know you don’t have the guts to do anything beyond that little trick you did at Lady Grafton’s.”

  “Would you actually like to fill your drawers again?” she asked, attempting to keep her voice from wavering. Worry clawed at her. Worry not for herself but for Gil.

  “I expect more of you, Hope. I trust you wouldn’t pull the same trick twice. Besides, doing that to me in such an enclosed space…well, it would be more of a punishment to you, wouldn’t it?”

  “How do you know I won’t just snap my fingers and turn you into the toad you are?” she asked in a low, and she hoped, dangerous sounding voice.

  “I have St. John’s Wort in my pocket. It provides protection against you devilish fiends,” he said proudly, puffing his chest out.

  “Devils, are we? What then, does that make you?” She suppressed a laugh at his idiocy. He truly was a daft dolt. To think he thought St. John’s Wort would keep her from striking out against him. He was sorely misinformed about creatures of magic. Still, she didn’t think doing anything inside of the carriage was the right course of action.

  Something told her to keep waiting—she would know when the moment was right. Truth be told, she was hesitant to use her powers to do anything. They could get her out of this mess, and they could sink her deeper into it. Her powers were far too unpredictable. Little things were easy to do, but doing something on this scale—well, it might end up turning catastrophic. She didn’t have the practice—and therefore was far too rusty.

  What if she failed, and the villain survived, and somehow ended up hurting Gilbert?

  No…Gil might have the nickname of Lucky, but she wasn’t about to gamble with his life. She loved him too much to lose him like that.

  *****

  “He took our Hope in broad daylight? That bloody popinjay! I shall tar and feather him!” Christian Blessing raged, pacing back and forth in Blessing House’s Ante Library.

  “I don’t think that will be necessary, Papa,” Fanny said, trying desperately to be the voice of reason in a sea of uncertainty. “Felix and Gil have it all in hand. They know just what to do, and we shall leave it to them.”

  “If you think I am going to let them go without me…I won’t,” Christian said stubbornly. “Do you hear me? I shan’t do it.”

  Fanny laughed. “What if I told you that I wanted to come along as well?”

  He narrowed his gaze at her. “You wouldn’t.”

  “I might. After all, I like a bit of adventure just as much as everyone else in this room,” she said.

  “She would,” Felix stated.

  “Fine,” Christian sighed heavily. “I shall let the young bucks go in my stead. We shall both remain here and wait, but I shan’t like it. I shan’t like it one bit. Just mind you have Hope back before her mother returns. If she hears of the peril that Hope is in, she will fall into a fit of hysteria. Ordinarily, she wouldn’t care where Hope was, but if anyone gives her the idea that she should be worried, she will make a meal of it. I don’t think I can take that right now. This time when you plant a facer on that little prick,” Christian said, “Make sure you break his ruddy nose.”

  “Oh, he will break something all right,” Felix muttered. Gil waited impatiently while Felix bid his wife a kiss goodbye, and then, restless with energy, they ran out to take their horses from the waiting grooms.

  Gil swung up on his horse, and they rode in tense silence. So the blackguard wanted to duel with him, eh? He had an inkling that Sir Hugo had set a trap for him. Men like him didn’t know how to fight with honor. They almost always took the easy route, and the easy route to most would seem like the most complicated path. He had brought along Micah, Lewis, Felix and Freddie. Surely, they would be enough for whatever Sir Hugo had planned, which he thought would consist of murder, mayhem, and a whole lot of malice thrown in.

  Once again, this group of the Angels of Death were gathered for another mission. He hoped this would be their last that dealt in life and death.

  They slowed down, catching sight of Lord Wisdom. His heart plummeted, and he gripped his reins anxiously. Would the man never stop shadowing him? He had noticed him following him ever since the night of Lady Grafton’s ball. He hadn’t been concerned, thinking that he would eventually lose interest in whatever sort of game he thought he was playing. If he wasn’t following him, he seemed to show up out of thin air. Sort of the way he had done now.

  “Lawks. Where are you off to chaps? You look a little furtive, and I don’t like what I see at all.”

  Gil sighed. Wisdom wouldn’t be any help at all. He was nothing more than a rake and a dandy. Did he even know how to handle himself in a tough situation? He couldn’t be trusted to assist them in their mission. What could he do against Sir Hugo? Charm him with his dazzling wit?

  “Gil has been challenged to a duel,” Lewis said calmly. How could the man be so calm when so much was at stake?

  “A duel, eh? Sounds like a bit of a jolly, and I am in the mood for some excitement. A duel sounds rather diverting, oh, yes, indeed.”

  “I don’t think you would be in the mood for this kind of excitement, Lord Wisdom. The man has absconded with Miss Hope Fortescue,” Gil said tiredly, trying to quiet his nerves. This was worse than facing Boney’s troops. He was always the one that remained calm. But not this time. He was restless with anxiety. He couldn’t stand the worry. If this was what it was like to be in love, it certainly wasn’t for the faint of heart. All he knew was that Sir Hugo now had the devil to pay, and he was the devil.

  “He took the woman you are betrothed to? I take it she is being used as bait?” The relaxed atmosphere that had surrounded Lord Wisdom faded away. Now, he was tense and alert. That was more like it.

  “Aye,” Felix said grimly. “I do not ken if you realize what you are facing, Lord Wisdom. I do think it would be better if you returned to your townhouse, and did whatever it is you do. This sort of escapade isn’t for…”

  “Men like me? Think I am soft, eh? I might be a dandy, and I might always look all the crack, but I am not a useless fop. If you don’t mind, I shall tag along,” Lord Wisdom said. “You needn’t fret, I shan’t get in the way. I might actually lend a hand or two.” He grinned widely at them all.

  “You had better not get your arse in the way. If you do anything to put Hope’s life at stake, I shall kill you,” Gil growled.

  Lord Wisdom raised both of his eyebrows. “I wouldn’t dream of doing such a thing. Why, I am not a nincompoop.”

  Lewis sighed heavily. “We are wasting precious time. Lord Wisdom, I hope that magnificent beast of yours isn’t worn out, for we have quite a ride ahead of us.”

  “Oh, no. I only went for a little ride in Hyde Park. Rotten Row was rather dull today. Filled wit
h jackanapes and vixens. No one was there that I wanted to see, so as you see, here I am.”

  Having joined their party, their horses galloped like hell fury to the rendezvous. Gilbert was going to tear Sir Hugo from limb to limb, and enjoy every moment of it.

  Chapter Twenty

  Hope stumbled down from the carriage.

  She was conflicted. Part of her was mentally with Gilbert, and part of her was focused on what Hugo had planned for them all. Hugo was a crafty little bugger. Gil was riding into danger and he didn’t even know it. There were varlets hidden in the bushes. She had known that even before Hugo had made her climb out of the carriage.

  “So,” she said, her voice a bit shaky. “You are a coward after all. You might bluster about how you now have the advantage over Gil but when it comes right down to it, you are a cowardly pig. You have arranged an ambush. Only cowards have others do their dirty work for them, Hugo. You are despicable.”

  “I could hardly sit idly by and do nothing. I know that your beloved rides with a gang of bloody thugs. I knew he wouldn’t come alone. He isn’t brave enough for that. He isn’t like me. I would only come with the man I had chosen as my second. No, instead, he travels with a whole bloody retinue. He hides behind them all. No one can tell me that a man that looks as he does could actually fight. Oh, sure, he can throw a punch or two with his mates standing at his back.”

  Rage boiled within her. Control. She to maintain control.

  “I wouldn’t talk about courage, Hugo. You never fought Napoleon. You never risked life and limb for King and Country!”

  He snorted loudly. “Not for lack of trying on my father’s part. I resisted him long enough until he finally kicked the bucket. My dear Mama rallied against him. Had she not been there, I know he would have shipped me off to the Army—or worse—to the Royal Navy.”

  “It might have made a man out of you,” she sneered. “Instead of the sniveling little coward I see before me now.”

  He shrugged his shoulders. “Watch your mouth, dearest, or I shall have to split that lip of yours. I didn’t need the Army to sort me out. I have always been perfect—and you cannot improve upon perfection, my dear.”

  She sighed. “I don’t know what I ever saw in you. I must have been desperate. You are nothing but a bloody pretty face. You are shallow, and mean—and you do not possess a heart.”

  “You were rather pathetic. I couldn’t have anything to do with you after I found out that your father was leaving a bankrupted legacy. I need the money. My father didn’t leave me nearly enough. He was so tight, I thought that he would have full coffers. Instead, I had an unpleasant surprise after he died. Once I take my revenge against you, I shall leave Britain. I have a nice little American heiress lined up, by the name of Miss Alexandra Talbot. I will hop onto a ship after I have taken care of you, your beloved, and his chums. My men and I will have a bit of sport with you first, though. I will enjoy your wares first, and then, I shall let them have some fun. I have outfitted them all with St. John’s Wort, so you will be helpless against them. After they are finished with you, you won’t be able to show your face in polite society—that is if they leave you alive. Once I ship off across the Pond, I will live out my life in the Colonies…as a wealthy man after I take all of my wife’s money. Alas, she will have to have an unfortunate accident as well. I wouldn’t want to be saddled with her for the rest of my life. I saw her once…she isn’t exactly the kind of beauty that this handsome visage of mine deserves. But money makes all of the difference, doesn’t it? I would marry a crooked backed old hag, as long as she had her skirts lined with gold. I don’t have to like bedding her, I can hire harlots for that.”

  “You are a vile pig,” she spat. She was blinded with rage. Her every instinct told her to lash out at him, but another voice told her to wait—and let Gilbert deal with him.

  “Why you do flatter me,” he replied, then, his eyes hardened. “Watch your tongue, or I shall take you across my knee and spank the hell out of you. Now, compose yourself, darling. I expect you to start screaming your lungs out once that lucky little bastard of yours arrives. Use those lungs of yours and put on a bloody good performance.”

  *****

  “You can stay with the horses,” Gil said to Wisdom. It was an order—not a request, and the surprised glint in Wisdom’s eyes told Gil that he had understood it.

  They all swung down from their horses, and handed him their reins. He looked rather insulted, no doubt miffed that Gil had had the audacity to give a nob like him an order.

  “I didn’t come along to play stable groom,” he muttered.

  “You didn’t?” Gil asked, resisting the urge to laugh at the sullen expression that Wisdom wore.

  Lewis sighed. “Tie the horses to a tree, and we will go in together. We shall have to take care of the blackguards he has hiding in the bushes first, and then, Gil, you can take care of Sir Hugo.”

  “Not much of a man, is he?” Cedric asked. “He hired ruffians to lie in wait to ambush you all? That is the sign of a weakling if I ever saw one.”

  “He is none too swift if he thought he could ambush us,” Freddie muttered.

  “He knows far more than we give him credit for,” Lewis said. “He knows of Miss Fortescue’s rather special abilities. I don’t think we should feed the fire. I won’t be using any of my abilities in this rescue. We don’t want to give him the proof he’s hunting for, especially with other witnesses about.” Gilbert watched Lewis give Wisdom a look that told him to do the same. He wanted to question what was going on between the two of them, but he didn’t have the luxury of time on his side.

  Quietly, they snuck up behind the hired blackguards, and relieved them of their weapons. Then, they emerged out into the clearing. Hugo had pulled Hope against him, and he had a blade pressed to her throat. Gil stepped forward, and stopped when Lewis put a hand on his shoulder.

  “Do what the redheaded warlock tells you to do,” Hugo said.

  His words made Gil narrow his eyes. How did this idiot know about both Hope and Lewis? Heavy mist crept in, and swept over their line of sight. “Are you doing this?” he asked Lewis.

  “No,” Lewis called, “Neither is Hope…or Cedric.”

  He groaned. Too much magic. He was getting quite sick of it all. He wanted his life to go back to being normal. Problem was, with Hope as his wife, his life would never be normal again. Hope took that moment to act. The mist had disoriented Hugo, and when his blade slipped away from her neck, she took her foot and slammed it down hard on his foot. He groaned and released her. She darted forward, and sank against Gilbert. He handed her over to Lewis, and lunged at Hugo. He had a killing rage in his eyes that made fear dance within her.

  Hugo’s eyes widened, and he let out a cry, as Gilbert punched him so hard that blood spurted out of his nose. This time, it was broken. He and Gilbert clashed against each other. Hugo was trying to get in a good blow, but Gilbert blocked his every attempt. Hugo was panting for breath. He obviously didn’t take part in any form of exercise, if he was already winded.

  Gil had Hugo pinned on the ground, and the urge to finish him off was strong.

  “Don’t do it, mate,” Felix said, breaking the silence. “It’s not worth it. We…we aren’t killers.”

  “Speak for yourself,” Gil growled. Hugo’s eyes were filled with fear, and he looked as if he was going to lose control over his bodily functions. “I have killed before, and I can do it again.”

  “Not like this. Leave the rotten little sod be,” Lewis said. “He will be dealt with appropriately.”

  “He will slip out. They always do. This fiend is a slippery little bastard. Men like him always find a way to evade justice. They think they are above the law. He will have connections. They will give him a slap on the wrist and let him go.”

  “No,” Freddie said. “They won’t. He will be punished. We will see to it. Our voices will be heard. Don’t put everything that you will share with Hope at risk. Don’t do it, mate. Your life is
worth far more than his is, don’t throw it away on that pile of rubbish.” It would be so easy to end Hugo’s life. So easy, and yet…

  “Gilbert, leave him be. Come back to me, please.” Hope’s softly spoken plea reached deep inside of him, and hit him hard. He released Hugo, and stood up. He wanted no part of him. He turned around to face Hope and his friends, and heard Lewis let out a minced oath. Quickly turning back around, he saw Hugo holding the knife in his hands that he had been holding against Hope’s throat. He looked ready to fight him again. He wanted it to be all over. Gil just wanted peace in his life, and he wanted men like Hugo to go to hell, where they belonged.

  “What the bloody hell?” Hugo screamed at the top of his lungs. “My hand is hot…you are burning me…one of you bloody warlocks are burning me!” He dropped the knife onto the ground, then the mist around them thickened to the point where Gilbert couldn’t see beyond his hand.

  It felt unnatural.

  It was the supernatural at work. Nothing else could make his hairs stand on end.

  As the rolling mist started to clear a bit, he made out the silhouette of someone he thought he would never see again in this life, anyway.

  Dressed in his redcoat, Charlie looked magnificent, and if Gil didn’t know any better, he would have thought he was alive. He didn’t know what Sir Hugo was seeing, he had dropped to his knees, and held his head in his hands. His eyes were wild, and tears were streaming down his face.

  “You are…you are not real. You can’t be. You are dead. I saw them lower your coffin into the ground. You…you son of a bitch, why couldn’t you bloody well stay dead. I cannot believe an abomination like you is my sire! Go back to hell where you belong!”

  So that was it.

  Hugo was seeing his father, and Gil was seeing his long lost brother. The question was, who was it really? Were they all seeing things that weren’t really there? He wanted so badly for it to be Charlie. He needed the chance for closure with his brother. He needed to know that his brother didn’t blame him. He could deal with anyone else in his family hating him, and believing he was responsible for Charlie’s death, but thinking that Charlie might think so as well had killed his soul little by over the years.