Chapter One

London 1821

 

Logan Maxwell stood outside The Duchess’ townhouse, his heart pounding and his hands sweating. Rarely was he nervous but asking for the hand in marriage of a lady was not something he’d done before, and he prayed would never do again.

Scarlett, The Duchess’ companion, opened the door, “Why, Lord Maxwell, whatever are you doing here? It’s good to see you again. It’s been a very long time.”

“Isn’t it obvious?” he asked with a feeble chuckle. “I’m here on personal business. I want to see Eveleen.”

“No, that’s just not possible. Lady Eveleen is no longer in London. She left a week ago. If you’d been in town or even at your country estate, you would have heard the news.”

Logan stepped past Scarlett and strode into the parlor where The Duchess sat, sipping a cup of tea, a plate of lemon bars in front of her. Anger imploded within and frustration ate at him. He’d been in Bordeaux on business. Someone should have sent a message. As it was, he wasted time pursuing Eveleen in London.

“I wondered when you’d show up, young Lord Maxwell. You can’t dally with a girl’s heart and emotions then expect said lady to be at your beck and call. You hurt Lady Eveleen, and I’d be surprised if she forgave you.” The Duchess set down the cup. “Have a seat, and we can chat for a few minutes.” She directed her next question to Scarlett. “Will you fetch Lord Maxwell some brandy or is it whiskey you like? Perhaps, you’d like some of your own Bordeaux.”

Logan cleared his throat, his jaw tensing, “Brandy is fine.”

“Yes, milady.” Scarlett spoke to Charlotte then scurried from the room.

“Do you know where Eveleen is?” Logan didn’t feel like sipping brandy and listening to the lecture from The Duchess he knew hovered on her lips. Eveleen could be anywhere.

“Of course, I do, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to tell you. Have a lemon bar. They’re very tasty.” She pointed at the plate of confections then with a cackle of seeming delight, “Not too good for your waist line though. At my age, I eat what I please.”

Logan sat, stunned at the reception, and learning Eveleen had left London. He accepted the glass of brandy, eyeing it critically. Thinking the sooner he answered to The Duchess, the sooner he’d get out of the townhouse to pursue Eveleen. “What do you want to chat about?”

“Eveleen.” Her voice was curt and penetrated Logan’s thoughts. “The young lady who wore her heart for everyone to see, but you, Lord Maxwell, ignored everything. Now, you want to make amends, I see.”

“Of course, Eveleen. I didn’t ignore her.” He’d spent every minute he was in town with her. What more could he have done? He had business to run, and a rendezvous in France that couldn’t be overlooked.

“You need to learn how to treat a young woman, and breaking her heart is not the way.” She lectured. “What are you planning to do so you can make it up to her?”

Put on the defensive and disliking the position, he paused, thinking, “I had no idea I was breaking her heart. I believed I was courting her.”

“You didn’t court her, you teased her, giving her reason to think you were interested in her then leaving without telling her why or where, and this wasn’t the first time you left suddenly,” The Duchess accused him, tapping her cane on the floor as if making her point. “While Drake courted Ella in a completely ungentlemanly way, you did the opposite. In a way, you snubbed her. Both of you young men have a lot to learn about the female species, and how to treat them. My Duke had no idea until I taught him.”

“Business, my vineyard, needed overseeing and my orchids needed tending. It was harvest time. Critical time for the grapes.” He suddenly felt like an untrained boy in front of his teacher, who was boxing his ears.

The first time he saw Eveleen he found himself transfixed by the sapphire color of her eyes, and he’d known then he wanted to have her, to wrap her long strawberry blond hair around his body. Yet, responsibilities stopped him from courting her as The Duchess pointed out, properly. Over the last few days, he’d come to understand he didn’t have time for courting. So, he made up his mind to wed her.

“An excuse, a bad one at that. You’ve always been fast with your words, young man. Seems you could think of something more original.” She waved her hand in the air, dismissing his reason. “You could have told her what you were about. She would have understood, and today you wouldn’t be wondering where she got herself off to.”

“The truth.” He bristled. Once again, he found himself on the defensive. At the ball, when he’d first seen her, he was on a mission along with Drake Montgomery to save Jarret Kingsley from discovery. Jarret would have found himself immediately married to Fayth Graham, another of The Duchess’ wards, and something Jarret vowed never to do.

“Possibly,” she acknowledged. “But there is more, and I believe some might say, lies of omission, or perhaps you didn’t believe she was worthy of the knowledge. Eveleen is not a trinket you can toy with. This is the nineteenth century. You need to enter the modern world.”

“Eveleen is a woman,” he began, mystified by The Duchess’ words. “Why should she know what a man is doing?”

“Of course, you are right. Why should she know where and why you go places? She is, as you say just a woman.” The Duchess leaned forward, her features drawn tight. “Do you care about Eveleen, or do you just find it’s the right time in your life to take a wife. Do you believe she is not intelligent enough to understand your business?”

“Both,” he acknowledged having never really thought about it until The Duchess confronted him. “But, of course, she’s intelligent and beautiful.”

“Do you love her?” once again she questioned, tapping her cane on the floor beside her and staring at him as if had a hole in his head. “Do you love her?” she repeated. “It’s an easy enough question. Yes or no.”

Logan stiffened, his gut instincts clicking in, and said, “There is no such thing as love. I am attracted to her. She is sweet and kind. Indeed, beautiful, but love, no, not ever.”

“Then you have your work cut out for you, because she fancies herself in love with you. If you tell her you don’t love her, she will freeze, perhaps turn her back on you, and never do your bidding.”

For several breath-stealing seconds he wasn’t sure what to say to The Duchess. Love had nothing to do with marriage and children. Yet, he found himself flattered by The Duchess’ words. “I will do whatever I need to convince her I would make a good husband and father.”

“I don’t think she cares as much about a good husband and father as you want to believe. She wants a man who loves and respects her. Eveleen is tender hearted and quiet-spoken, but there is a will of iron within her soul. She will not be easy to win over if you cannot find love in your heart.”

No, not easy at all if he failed to discover where she’d gone. If, as Aidan had done, she left for Baltimore, he’d be hard pressed to follow her. “Where has she gone?” he persisted, realizing in his life, time was important to him and his work. Wasting the precious commodity was not an option.

“Do you think I want to make this easy on you? You’re an intelligent man. You figure it out.” The Duchess laughed, her age-lined face crinkling in merriment. “In order to appreciate the woman you wed, the journey must be difficult. You must earn her love and her trust.”

“Apparently not, I think you enjoy watching us men falter,” Logan said dryly. “But I’d appreciate any help in this matter you’re willing to give.”

“You don’t love her. What if a man came along who could give her what she wants, love? Would you stop her?” Once again, The Duchess challenged him and all he held dear.

“Eveleen is mine,” he told The Duchess vehemently. “Another man will never touch her.”

“Tsk, tsk, you might believe that but does Eveleen? It’s time for you, young man, to come to your senses. Eveleen is not yours. You have no claim to her. Need I remind you again, it’s the nineteenth century? A woman can say no to a man she doesn’t want to marry. She doesn’t have to accept a man she doesn’t want.” The Duchess reminded him pointedly.

Logan drained his glass of brandy, suddenly needing more of the potent liquid and glanced Scarlett’s way, who seemed to understand what he requested and soon supplied him with more brandy, this time setting the bottle nearby.

“Thank you,” he said.

“If not love, what can you give her?”

“If I had taken her to the hunting lodge and ruined her, you wouldn’t be telling me this,” he shot back, realizing that was exactly what he should have done. Drake had done everything right where it came to courting. No, what he did was not courting. It was seduction.

“If she’d agreed to go with you, you wouldn’t have to convince her you care for her. You’d know where she was right now. In your home, your arms and your bed most likely.” The Duchess’ eyes focused on him, driving home the point.

The lady had an answer for everything, and what she said had a definite ring of truth. Inhaling a deep breath of air, “I confess. You’ve a good argument. I spent a great deal of time overlooking her. I will have to change my ways if I wish to win her hand.”

“You should have courted her and shown her affection. I believe the last time we spoke, she told the girls she didn’t think you cared at all for her. You’d only given her a few brief little kisses on the cheek, and perhaps a daytime kiss to the lips. Imaginably, at least one long body heating kiss would have kept her in London. What do you think?”

“I didn’t want to frighten her,” he said too quickly and while that was part of the story, it wasn’t the entire reason. She was tiny, fragile and delicate. He didn’t want to risk hurting her.

“Pshaw…after what she saw Drake do with Ella? You can’t be serious. She told me she wanted the same as Ella had, and she didn’t want to settle for less. You’ve a lot to answer for if you want to win her hand.”

“Are you going to tell me where she is or are you going to keep telling me what I’ve done wrong?” His patience had come to an end.

“You must prove yourself before I tell you anything.” The Duchess tilted her head, slightly smiling.

“How the bloody eyes do I do that when I can’t find her?” Lady Charlotte had him by the balls and she seemed to know it.

“I’m sure if you really want to marry the young lady of our conversation, you’ll figure it out.” She lifted the tray of treats, and with a daring smile, she asked, “Another lemon bar?”

Instead of accepting a sweet confection, he rose and paced the room, thinking. He had courted Eveleen very gently but she was fragile as hell. Her wrists so thin, his fingers overlapped when he wrapped them around her. So, how the devil was he supposed to court her now when he couldn’t find her?

As if reading his mind, The Duchess went on to say, “She is tougher than you think. Just because she is petite doesn’t mean she is fragile or she’ll break if you make love to her.” The powdered sugar on her lips combined with her smile left a strange impression. “You should think about that.”

“So, you give me the impression I should bed a woman I’m not married to?” he whispered softly, fiercely trying to understand exactly what this lady tried to tell him.

“Of course not. Don’t assume anything, but I won’t condemn a man who is good at heart. Make love to her yes, but I don’t know why that would surprise you. I gave permission to Drake to do the same with Ella. Well,” she amended, “If Ella agreed and we all know what happened.”

“Your permission is pointless.” His hand knifed through the air. “I plan on proposing marriage as soon as I can find her. I will court her then make love to her after we are wed.”

“That my young man is a horrible mistake.”

“It is mine to make.”

“Perhaps she left for Bordeaux in search of her beau,” The Duchess said sweetly. “If you don’t court her or at least seduce her, she won’t ever be in your bed.”

“Then she is not there. You are only trying to tempt me with false clues. I’m sure it would please you to see me run off to France when she was somewhere else.” Frustration built inside. “Or perhaps you play games, suggest one thing in hopes I’ll dismiss it.”

“Intrigue is beyond me. I’m an old woman who speaks her mind.” She sipped her tea, her clear blue eyes sparkling with amusement and seemed to wait for him to stick his foot in his mouth.

Picking up his whiskey glass, he gulped the contents before setting it sharply on the table. “I believe we’re through here.”

“Scarlett.” Lady Charlotte called out.

“Yes, Milady. What do you need?” She appeared quickly as if she’d been waiting at the door and possibly listening.

“Will you please see young Lord Maxwell out?”

The Duchess had out maneuvered him from his first words. Now on his way to the Montgomerie country estate, he evaluated everything Lady Charlotte had told him. Bedeviled by the idea he’d been too gentle and caring with his lady’s reputation with Eveleen, he tried to figure out how to remedy the situation he’d singlehandedly created.

Striding through the gardens to the gazebo in the back of the Montgomerie estate, he flexed his hands, feeling the need to hit something. When he saw the happy couple, he knew he was about to interrupt a tryst, but they could wait. His need was far greater than anything they could be feeling.

“Sorry to interrupt,” he said out of politeness. “But I’ve urgent business that won’t wait for the two of you to finishes whatever it is you’ve started.”

The pair didn’t immediately jump apart as expected. Instead, Drake drew out the kiss, slowly removing his hand from beneath her dress, while he made sure his big body shielded her from his view, giving Ella time to adjust her bodice and hair.

“You owe me,” Drake said gruffly, his voice raw and intimidating.

“Of course.”

Drake’s shirt fell open, revealing unfastened trousers. “Why are you here, Logan? Everything going well, I presume?”

He meant to get to the point. The sooner he knew where Eveleen had vanished to, the sooner he could marry her. “Do either of you know where Eveleen has gone? It seems The Duchess won’t tell me.”

Logan watched as Ella’s hand touch Drake’s arm as if signaling for something, perhaps not to say anything. Drake turned to look into Ella’s eyes. Time ticked by while she looked down.

Ella’s gaze fastened on his before questioning him. “Why do you want to know?” Ella whispered softly.

At his sides, his fists clenched and unclenched, his anger and frustration once more surfacing. “To ask for her hand in marriage.”

“By the look in your eye, I don’t think you stand a chance of hearing a positive answer from my cousin. You’ve done an amazing job of hurting and belittling her,” Ella said pointedly. “What’s the rush?”

His emotions and frustrations escalated to a burning inferno. This morning his plans had been simple and seemed to be in reach, but now he’d been lectured and once again he expected another round of scolding for behavior he thought had been impeccable.

“And why and how did I accomplish all you said? If I hurt her, I certainly didn’t mean to,” he asked, knowing full well he was jumping in with both feet and no guarantee of a lifeline.

“You really have to ask?” Drake said incredulously. “I warned you several times that you ignored her. Your chaste kisses and modest handholding would never convince her you cared. Every time you disappeared, you left without telling her anything.”

He braced himself for the second round of reprimanding. “My vineyard, winery was important. The harvest had to be seen to. I had to leave. When the grapes are ready, everything else is put on hold.”

“Without telling her why? Eveleen thought you were putting your life in danger by spying. She could never quite get the picture of you with your bandaged leg out of her head. You were shot while you were spying for the crown, Logan. Eveleen is a quiet and reserved person. Violence is something she’s never understood. Again, I ask, what’s your burning need to marry her now?”

“I didn’t want to bother her with my business.” He choked on the words, realizing if he respected her, he would include her in the simplest things. “If I can find her, I’ll try to do better.”

“You’ve led her to believe that you as a man, and this is a man’s world, expect her place in your life when wed would be to remain barefoot and pregnant,” Ella said, studying his eyes.

He bit back the retort on his lips, understanding that once again everything he said seemed to bury him deeper. “You have no idea what I believe.”

“Neither does Eveleen and that’s the major problem,” Ella said softly. “She didn’t come here looking for a husband. Eveleen arrived in London with me hoping to find a man to love. She believed she found that man in you.”

“That’s an impossible feat. Love doesn’t exist,” Logan answered, his voice and stance firm. Yet blood rushed to his face.

“Well,” Drake laughed, “we do agree on that fact. Love is poetic nonsense, but that doesn’t negate the fact you badly mistreated Eveleen. What are you planning to do about it?”

While they spoke, the sky darkened and a cold wind whipped around the gazebo. “Drake, we need to return to the house before the rain starts. I don’t want to get drenched,” Ella said, rising from the sheltered bench of the gazebo.

“You’re pregnant,” Logan said “when is the child due?”

“April,” Drake said. “If you will excuse us, I need to get my very pregnant wife back to the house.”

Logan welcomed a quick retreat from this strange battle he fought. All he wanted was Eveleen’s location, and he would leave these two to their pursuit of pleasure.

Once inside the house, Drake called for refreshments while the trio settled in the parlor.

“I don’t want to take up more of your time. Just tell me where she went and I’ll leave.” Logan thrummed his fingers on the table, nerves drawn tight, his tolerance thin.

“Hmm…” Ella leaned forward, one slender fingertip tapping her chin. Her gaze met his. “Aidan left for Baltimore. It’s possible Eveleen joined her. The two sisters are rather close.”

“And Lady Charlotte told me Eveleen went to my vineyard in Bordeaux. I don’t believe either of you.” He stiffened, his voice rising with the storm winds howling around the eaves.

“Suit yourself.” With a shrug of her slim shoulders, Ella slanted him an angelic smile.

“Logan,” Drake strode toward him then wrapping an arm around his shoulder, “walk with me. We need to speak with each other man to man. You need to understand some basic principles.”

Logan looked over his shoulder to see Ella, knowingly smiling at him. A ray of sun burst through dark clouds filtering through the windowpane, warming his back and sending a moment of optimism through his soul. Perhaps he had a chance of discovering her location after all.

He waited not so good-naturedly. They’d toyed with him long enough. As far as he was concerned, this game was over. “I would like you tell me what you know about Eveleen’s whereabouts and what exactly prompted her departure. Hell, she could still be in one of the rooms upstairs, for all I know. If you won’t open up, I’ll take my leave. I don’t have the inclination to waste time.”

“Have I ever lied to you?” Drake asked, an edge to his voice, letting his arm fall from Logan’s shoulder.

“No.”

“Then listen carefully. I’m only going to say this once. Everything you’ve heard here is true, and I assume the knowledge The Duchess imparted to you is also fact.”

“Hells bells, I’m paying attention, been listening to every word. Just get to the bloody point.” Logan said fervently, wishing he had a wall to slam his fist against. His body shook with his anger.

“I don’t believe you have been, but then that’s just my opinion,” Drake told him, his voice clear, his meaning clearer.

“What? What have you told me that I’ve not absorbed into my gut?” Logan asked, staring at Drake, demanding answers that didn’t seem to be forthcoming any time soon.

“Eveleen left because she believes you don’t care for her. You haven’t done anything to make her think you are her beau. But we’ve told you that a hundred times and your actions have never changed. Now you come here demanding we tell you something we’re not at all sure will be good for Eveleen.”

“I understand that and I’m trying to figure out how to fix things with her. I’m just a confused man.”

“Arrogance is not a virtue that will promote your cause with Eveleen,” Drake warned. “You might have to beg forgiveness. Are you capable of that? Do you want her enough?”

“Yes.”

“That was pretty weak, Logan. Do you want her enough?” Drake repeated, seeming to expect something from him he didn’t understand.

“Yes, I do. Yes.” Logan fisted his hands, the muscles in his jaw flexing, raw nerves ripping through his insides. This was too important to him. He wanted a wife and children and he’d never met anyone quite like Eveleen. “She is beautiful and intelligent. Eveleen is everything I’ve ever wanted in a mate.”

“That was a little bit better, but I’m sensing reservations on your part. Aww, what could that be?”

“She’s so fragile,” Logan said. “And delicate as a new flower. I don’t want to break her.”

“And if I’m aware of the uncertainties, she is also. Eveleen might be a small woman, but she is not tinier than Ella. You have nothing to fear.”

“What if she dies in childbirth?” Logan had gone over this scenario so many times he knew the nightmare by heart.

“Don’t you think it’s too soon to worry about childbirth? From what Ella has told me, you’ve barely kissed Eveleen.” Drake grinned as if seeing his friend’s hesitations.

“When choosing a wife, a man has to think about things like that.” Logan knew his words meant nothing to Drake who had wanted only passion from his relationship.”

“I’m sure she is tougher than you think,” Drake said dryly with the hint of laughter in his words.

“Perhaps, I’ve got a lot to think about and amends to make, but I can’t do them unless you tell me where I can find my future bride.”

~ * ~

“No!” Eveleen turned to run, her heart pounding in her chest. If only she could reach the boat.

From behind her, a man wrapped his beefy arms around her waist, pulling her against him. Her nails bit into his flesh while she struggled against his brute force. “That’s it, fight me. It’s more fun that way,” he growled, his voice a low evil snarl against her ear.

“Let me go.” She pushed as hard as she could on his arms, struggling to shove him away, terrorized by fear, remembering when Guy, Hunter’s stepbrother, had captured her and tied her to the rock in the middle of the ocean to wait for high tide when she would drown.

His laughter echoed in the tiny clearing on the island sanctuary. “You’re a pretty little thing. I like ‘em little and delicate. I bet your tits are pretty too, nice and soft.” With one hand be captured a breast and squeezed.

She screamed a high-pitched sound, eerie in the tiny glade.

He laughed, letting his fetid breath wash across her face.

Trying another tactic, she bent low and bit him on the arm. Wrenched against him, he ripped the bodice of her dress from top to waist. “No!” she yelled. “Stop. You’ve no…”

“Lil’ gal, I do what I please.”

Tears flowed from her eyes and down her face while time seemed to stand still. She let her mind drift in a haze, the trees and bushes all becoming one with each other.

The earth was strangely warm, the scent of grass emanating around her while her body now floated above her detached from what was happening. Her body tensed with pain yet she didn’t cry out. All she heard was the throaty sounds from her attacker.

Then the man vanished and someone else took his place. He hauled her from the ground. His hand explored her body. She closed her eyes, wishing she could die now, or praying for a savior.

Suddenly, blood spurted around her, spraying the ground and the surrounding bushes. The man’s hold dropped and when she turned, the man slid to the ground, his throat slit blood pulsing from the wound.

“Logan,” she whispered, her body convulsing. Her breath seemed to stop and the ground swirled in a hazy blur. “You’re here.”

He caught her before she hit the ground and pulled her to her feet, his strong hands around her waist. Holding her steady, he said, “Listen to me. Go into the hut, now.”

Her head moved, nodding, but she didn’t know if she could make it there. Her legs shook. “Y-yes,” she whispered while she fought the blackness that even now wanted to engulf her.

Her attempt to move was feeble, her legs giving out as she ended up on hands and knees shaking. She tried to crawl but ice flowed through her and her nerves screamed out in fear.

With a veiled curse, Logan swept her into his arms. He set her gently on the floor of the hut before saying, “Stay here no matter what you hear. Promise me.”

“P-promise.”

The door slammed shut and a strange silence echoed in her ears. Then she heard the pounding of her blood swishing through her veins and the scratchy rasps of her breaths. She tried to slow her breathing. Minutes passed. The trembling of her legs slowed. Chilled to the bone, she wrapped her arms around herself while trying to pull the fabric of her bodice together. Hesitating a second, she reached for the door and opened it.

A shot reverberated. She gasped, her hand to her mouth when Logan turned to her, his eyes darkened and brows drawn together. In a move so fast it seemed a blur, he lunged to a spot near the side of the hut. His bellow of rage terrified her and she pulled the door shut. Her heart stopped as she tried to inhale air, terrified she would not live through this day.

Scooting into a corner of the hut, she pulled her knees to her chest and closed her eyes. Tears welled beneath shuttered lashes and slid down her cheeks. No, no, no. She rocked back and forth with her repeated words. No, it can’t be.

So much had happened. She’d run from London, terrified of rejection. But now Logan had returned and just in time to save her. He’d lecture her about the island and she could no longer claim its safety. Now her trembling was caused by thoughts of the man, Logan, the killer surrounded by violence and death.

She’d left, hoping he’d come for her and now he was here. He was on her island and he killed a man to save her. No, he killed two men, slit their throats as if they were animals.

A shadow covered her and when she looked up he stood, feet braced apart his hands on his narrow hips. Logan was tall, young, striking, with strong handsome features and some indomitable presence that demanded respect. His steel gray eyes could pierce her soul and they could sizzle silver in certain lights. Blond hair fell rakishly across his brow.

Even in stillness he was vital, demanding, arrogant.

Holding out a blood-splattered hand toward her, he said quietly as if nothing had just happened, “We have to go, now.”

Eveleen tried to stand. Lord, how she strained to move her arm and take hold of his hand. Finally, with a whispered curse, Logan swept her into his arms. She buried her face in his shoulder, trying to adsorb his strength into her, sobbing quietly.

“I’m sorry,” she said softly, trying to cling to him while holding the bodice of her torn dress together. “Why do we have to leave?”

“There might be more men. I saw a ship on the horizon while I was sailing here. When they notice two men have not returned to the ship, they’ll send out search parties.”

“A ship? Search parties? This has never happened on the island.” She didn’t have the strength to argue or question. Nothing he said made sense, but at least he wasn’t yelling at her for the unescorted trip to the island.

Quickly striding down the hill to the spot where he moored his boat, he searched the ocean. Logan set her inside while he tied hers to the stern of the vessel he meant to sail to the mainland.

Eveleen watched the trail to the hut. Nothing inhabited the path except birds and squirrels. Even in the boat, with Logan raising the sail and manning the tiller, she couldn’t stop her body from shaking.

Sunlight sparkled on the ocean waves. A brisk wind blew from the south and the little boat slipped quickly through the water.

Focusing on her island, she finally understood Hunter’s as well as her father’s fears. Today they were proven right. She gasped, drawing away when Logan reached out to touch her arm.

“It’s all right. You know I won’t hurt you. The two men arrived by ship and landed on the island.” Logan spoke, his voice calm, too composed. “We don’t know why, but I won’t take chances where your life is concerned.”

Who was this man who treated her as if she was a fragile flower one moment then slit the throats of two men with seemingly no care for human life? Once, she’d thought she knew Logan Maxwell. Before this day, she’d thought him easy going and carefree. Now she knew his other side, the darkly ominous and dangerous one, the spy.

She swallowed down her terror, trying to keep the fear in its rightful place, out of her mind. She didn’t know what to believe. “And you think someone will look for them?”

“I believe so,” he told her, turning to the island. Then he pointed. “See, there at the bottom of the trail.”

A group of men stood on the beach, sunlight flashing off the steel of their swords. “What do they want?” she asked.

“Me.” He gritted out. “But they found you instead.”

More danger surrounded Logan than she cared to think about. A ragged gasp tore through her, and she placed a hand at her throat, attempting to breathe deeply and slowly. Closing her eyes, she concentrated on each breath of air until finally her breathing normalized.

“Why? Whatever for?”

“Because the man is mean spirited and evil. We’ve had our differences over the years. It seemed I purchased something he coveted. Now he seeks revenge.”

Eveleen felt as if he’d said too much, more than she wanted to know. She pulled her knees tighter to her chest, as if that gesture would stop her trembling and ease the fear encapsulating her.

“How did he know I was on the island?” she whispered softly, barely able to hear herself.

“He didn’t.”

“Then?”

“Because he was looking for me and he had reason to believe I visited the McLellan castle. I’m sure the island was meant to hide his ship so he could survey its defenses.” Logan beached the two boats.

Jumping into the water, he helped Eveleen to solid ground. Still shaking so hard, her knees gave way as she crumpled to the earth. “I cannot walk…can barely stand.”

“You have to, either that or face a worse fate than those two men planned for you.” His words sounded hard and dangerous.

Drawing her to her feet and wrapping an arm around her waist, he supported her. “I can,” she told him determinedly, repeating the mantra to herself and one step at a time walked toward the castle.

“Is that door at the top of the steps open?” he asked, pointing in that direction.

“Yes. At least I hope so, unless someone bolted it from the inside after I left.” She knew Allura, her sister, had vowed to keep it locked but the door was not bolted earlier.

He studied her as if weighing her ability to climb the steep crumbling steps. “We have to chance it. There is no time to go around the castle and enter through the gates.”

Sweeping her into his arms, he strode quickly up the steps. Setting her down, he opened the door, “Thank God.”

Inside the dark passageway, Logan secured the door then picked up the torch Eveleen had left at the entrance. Before she could protest, she was once more cradled in his arms.

“To the right,” she told him, anticipating his question. “You can put me down now. I can walk,” she whispered, her voice thin.

Yet he did not do her bidding. Instead, he strode through the tunnel. “Let me know when we reach your room.”

Within a short span of time and several turns, “This is it.” She wanted nothing more than to curl up in her bed and hide from the nightmare.

With a foot, he pushed it open and striding to the bed, he placed her gently down. “I’ll order a bath for you. When you’re done, come to the main room. I have some things to discuss with your father or Hunter. I’m not sure which man makes the family decisions.”

Logan strode quickly from the room. She watched his departing back with trepidation. There was only one thing she could think of he would want to speak of with her father. Marriage.

She nodded, watching him disappear, still trembling and alarmed by thoughts of her future. He took charge as if she was his. She could never belong to a man so violent and dangerous.

As he’d told her, a knock sounded at her door, but it seemed she couldn’t rise to answer it. Foggy scenes from the island floated through her mind, but all she could remember was a man hurting her, nothing else.

The servant didn’t wait long, slowly the door opened. “Lady Eveleen? Your bath is ready to be filled.”

At once men with buckets of steaming water entered and poured the liquid warmth into the bathtub she kept handy. Looking through fog-dazed eyes, she stared at the steaming water.

“Come,” the servant said. “Let me help you from the dress. You will need assistance with your corset. What happened? The dress has nearly been ripped from you.”

“I don’t remember?” she spoke in hushed tones.

“Lord Maxwell?” the maid asked, seemingly horrified.

“No,” Eveleen whispered, “No not him, he k-killed…” she let her voice trail off, knowing she shouldn’t speak of such things in front of a servant.

“If you say so.”

Eveleen stared ahead as she was disrobed and the ripped and bloodied clothing was piled in the corner waiting to be burned. The servant led her to the tub and helped her into the water.

She let her head fall against the rim and the water warm her frozen body. Her mind stilled, unraveling her future one strand at a time. Then she couldn’t help herself. She found the sponge and scrubbed. A thin wail echoed from her and she wondered at the sound. But she couldn’t stop herself. She felt so dirty and used. She scrubbed and scrubbed. And when the washing didn’t ease the fear and the trembling and the disgust filling her soul, she pulled her knees to her chest in a tight ball and sobbed.

She would not agree to a marriage with Logan, even though she’d thought of little else for nearly a year now. She wasn’t worthy of marriage. Something happened on the island, and she knew she couldn’t ever marry.

“Come, Lady Eveleen. Lord Maxwell said we must hurry. What is wrong with you? Why are you sobbing? You must not think only of yourself. The men from the ship will be here soon, and we must all show a solid and brave front.”

“What are you talking about?” She brushed tears from her eyes with the backs of her hands. “I can’t go anywhere. I won’t. I have to get clean first.”

“Your Lord will be accused of murder, yet his actions were to defend you and your honor. We must take the dress to show what the horrible men did to you. Time is of the essence.”

“Yes,” but her hands didn’t want to move. She found her servant had undone the few pins left holding her hair and washed it. Before she knew, her lady helped her from the bath.

Clothes were set on the bed, and she was surprised to see they would be considered among her best. Indeed, this was the one she wore to Allura’s wedding.

“I don’t need to wear such finery to meet Logan and my father in the great hall.” She wondered at the clothes and the reasons behind them. It seemed she’d been caught up in the moment at hand and she had no will to defy them.

“I didn’t question my orders,” she said softly. “Lord Maxwell said to lay out your best gown.”

“Lord Maxwell? Why? No, no, I suppose I can wear these even though I don’t understand the reason behind them. Help me, this will take some time and the corset will have to be laced tight in order for the gown to fit.” This was ridiculously difficult while she still trembled from the horrific encounter on the island. She couldn’t close her eyes, because she saw the knife in Logan’s hand and blood splattering everywhere. Keeping them open reminded her of how easily Logan slit the men’s throat. He didn’t hesitate one moment, just killed them. But there was something else that happened, something she needed to remember.

To save your life, you fool.

Even now she was sure Logan felt no remorse for their murder. He’d said as much when he left her. They’d hurt her she just wasn’t sure her memory eluded her.

Too many minutes had passed. She heard the knock at the door and jumped with a terrified gasp her hand at her throat.

“Eveleen?” Allura asked, stepping quietly into the room and extending her hand. “Are you ready. Come, we must hurry. Even now the captain from the ship, Logan’s enemy, waits in the great hall. He has accused Logan of murdering two of his men.”

The servant held the remnants of Eveleen’s ruined dress in her hands. “Here, take this with you and show him what was done to you at the hands of his men.”

Eveleen stepped backwards, her hands at her sides while she shook her head and her entire body quivered with fear and shock. A cold sweat broke out on her body. “No, no, I can’t. I won’t touch it. Don’t make me.”

“Give it to me,” Allura said quietly. “I will carry the damning evidence. This is necessary for the truth to be told and judged.” She wrapped an arm around her sister. “This will be all right. Nothing will happen to Logan. We will make this alright. Don’t worry. Do you want to tell me about the island?”

“I… It was…” she began but the lost memories and the petrifying fear caused her to stumble. “I don’t remember much. The man threw me to the ground and tore the bodice. Then everything is muddled.”

“You don’t have to talk about it, but I believe telling someone what happened there would help you get over it.” They entered the crowded hall and approached Hunter, who now sat in the laird’s chair.

The distance between them seemed insurmountable. She turned to Allura. “A man a-attacked me. And…” she told Allura “Logan slit his throat. He put me in the hut, but I heard a gunshot. When I looked out I saw…he killed two men without thought before I could breathe,” she murmured.

“The men were going to violate you; for all we know they did. From what you’ve told me, Logan had no choice,” Allura whispered softly. “It will get better with time. It always does.”

Tears slid from Eveleen’s eyes. Nothing her sister said helped ease the trembling or her fears. “The violence…all the viciousness. It’s not right but I thank Lord Maxwell.”

“What Logan did was necessary to save your life,” Allura argued vehemently. “He should not be punished.”

The great hall brimmed with light and men from the McLellan clan as well as those from the ship. Chatter was loud and fierce as if each faction tried to prove its story. Only Logan and Eveleen knew what had happened on the island.

Logan and Hunter greeted the two sisters as they slowly closed the distance to the laird’s chair. Eveleen cringed back when she saw Logan. She didn’t want to see him, couldn’t talk to him, understanding what he’d done. Even knowing if he hadn’t intervened, she might be dead. All his actions had been for her. So why was she so panicked?

When he stood beside her and pulled her hand into the crook of his elbow, gentle warmth filled her. A sudden ray of sunlight illuminated her soul. She looked at him, and his smile seemed sincere and meant to encourage. This Lord Maxwell was not the man who killed so easily.

“Are you alright?” he asked, gently squeezing her hand.

“No, when I close my eyes all I see is blood and two men lying on the ground with their throats cut open. I can’t stop the shaking of my body or the cold from chilling my soul as well as the horror of those few minutes before you were there.” Yet the few minutes she’d spoken to Allura had indeed helped her see the situation for what it was.

“In time that will pass.” Logan whispered, “For now, you need to tell these men what happened on the island. Don’t leave anything out, including what I did. Whatever you do, don’t lie thinking you’re protecting me.” They strode to the front of the room, and he motioned for her to sit next to Hunter, Allura on the other side.

Logan stood behind her, his hands resting on the back of her chair, the knuckles of his hands touching the back of her neck.

Hunter touched her hand, “Eveleen, tell these men what happened on the island.”

With a slight nod of her head, she told the men and her clan everything she could remember that had been done to her and all Logan had done to shield her from further harm. “He was defending my life. They would have killed me, and him,” she finished.

Allura offered the dress as proof. “Here is the dress that was torn from her body by one of the captain’s men.”

When she caught a glance at Allura, she saw Hunter exchange a look with her that she imagined said, I told you the island wasn’t safe.

Allura grimaced, seeming to read her husband’s thoughts. The poignant moment passed in a flash and everyone’s attention turned to Hunter.

“The only crime committed here was the crime against Lady Eveleen McLellan. If your men were still alive, they’d be sentenced accordingly,” Hunter said, his voice stern. “The crime’s penalty is death.”

“There is no real proof. The gown could have been ripped by Lord Maxwell just as easily,” the captain said but his words held no truth.

“I have the testimony of both the lady involved and her rescuer. That is good enough for me. Now,” Hunter paused, “I suggest you return to your ship and leave my land. Go wherever it was you were going before you stopped on McLellan land.”

Hunter nodded to three of his guards, who approached the captain and his men in order to escort them from the great hall and to the small boats that would take them to their ship.

A hush fell over the room. Eveleen looked to Hunter, expecting something to be said.

Allura spoke first, “You need to tell my sister that you’ve approved Logan’s wishes and what will happen now.”

Eveleen gasped softly, fearful. “Tell me what?”

“That you will wed today,” Hunter said. “I’ve given Lord Maxwell your hand in marriage. He has told me that time is of the essence and his return to his estate is paramount. The captain of the men who attacked you, it seems, have pirated some shipments of Bordeaux from his vineyard in France. And we know that after what happened on the island, the wedding must happen in the next few days.”

Logan placed his hands on her shoulders as if to reassure but she scooted forward, not wanting to feel his touch. “No,” she turned to look at him, stunned by the tension radiating from his eyes, the taut line of his jaw. His demanding expression sent spirals of fear ripping through her. “I don’t want to marry you or anyone.”

“Yes,” Logan said calmly. “You will be mine tonight. I will protect you with my life for as long as I live. This is what is best for you, Eveleen.”

“I will say no.” she couldn’t let this happen. She turned to Hunter, “You can’t make me.” He’d ignored her for so long and now he showed up and demanded a wedding on the same day she was nearly violated. He was so threatening and unforgiving. His arrogance knew no end.

“Then you will be banished from this home,” Hunter told her. “I’m sure your aunt Charlotte will take you in and once more search the ton for a suitable mate. A child might have been conceived today, and Logan has told me he will claim the babe, if there is one, as his own.”

“You really have no choice in this. As Hunter said, you could be carrying a child. You must protect yourself from rumors and gossip. Thank God, Logan cares for you enough to wed you,” Allura said. “In time you will learn to love your new husband. Banishment is a harsh word and really has no place here. I’m sure Hunter doesn’t really mean it. We are all thinking of your future as well as possible consequences.”

“I can’t believe you just threatened me with banishment,” Eveleen rose, racing from the room, tears in her eyes.

“You should go after her,” Hunter told Allura. “She needs to see reason. The wedding will begin shortly.”

“I’ll go,” Logan said.

“No, you would do more harm than good.” Allura rose, knowing where she’d find Eveleen. “Go to the church. I’ll bring Eveleen.”

Eveleen sat on a small bench in the garden near the church. She knew her choices were limited and understood the threat. But her sister must have known of this. She could have told her and given her time to prepare.

“I’m sorry,” Allura sat next to her. “If not for the attack, I would have talked to you about Logan’s wishes. As it was, there was no time for conversation.”

“Why?”

“I thought you liked Logan. No, I believed you were half in love with him. When you arrived at our doorstep, well, I thought it was a lover’s spat. Still do. In time you will love and forgive him just as I learned to love Hunter.”

Eveleen gasped for air, her hand on her chest. “How could we have a lover’s spat when I never saw the man? I came home because he didn’t care about me, didn’t seem to want me. Allura,” she paused, “there is no way I’m with child. I’m still a virgin. Logan has not touched me.”

Allura waved a hand in the air. “None of this matters. You don’t remember and for now that might give your mind a chance to heal. Hunter has given you to Logan and yes, you can say no, but that would not be in your best interest.”

“Neither choices are to my liking.” Eveleen wiped the tears from her eyes, feeling coldness enter her heart. She understood she was trapped in a corner and there was no way to escape.

“If you remember, I didn’t want to wed Hunter. He has proven to be a kind gentle lover and a wonderful father to our children. I am heartily glad father concocted the plan that brought Hunter into my life. I love him so much more than I could ever believe.”

“You think this is a similar situation?” Eveleen denied the thought. Nothing similar between these two scenarios existed.

“Yes, and no. We are different people and so we will handle the marriage differently. Come, we need to meet them in the church.” Allura rose, extending a hand to her.

“Tonight? It is too soon.” Eveleen meant to stall for time. “Why can’t we wait until tomorrow or the next day?”

“Logan must leave in the morning. So, the wedding must take place immediately. Come now, put a smile on your beautiful face.”

She swallowed hard, shaking her head. “Why is it only Logan’s interests everyone heeds?”

“This is more about what’s best for you, Eveleen, not Logan. The haste is for him though. We mustn’t waste time. If you are going to marry Logan, then lift your chin and straighten your back. Walk to the church and to the man who will be your husband with pride.”

For a minute, she closed her eyes, fighting the tears and the terror wrapping around her soul. When she rose, she looked ahead, knowing she could never look back. “I will do what is necessary.”

As if the organist knew exactly the moment she would arrive, music filled the tiny church. Logan stood at the altar, Hunter next to him.

The laird stepped beside her and offered his arm. He patted her hand and looked at her with love in his eyes. “Logan will make you a fine husband. He’s an honest and brave man.”

But he will never love me. Eveleen inhaled a long deep breath before starting down the aisle, Allura in front of her.

~ * ~

Franco, the captain of the men who died on the tiny island near the McLellan castle stood at the stern of the ship, watching the island slowly vanish from sight. Wind filled the sails as the vessel picked up speed. The day had not gone at all as he planned. Things were done he didn’t condone, but when one had little money sometimes men with few scruples were hired. His retribution was for Maxwell not some young woman.

“Enjoy your moment of respite, Logan Maxwell. You have much to account for and I will find a way to make you pay. The land is mine, passed down more generations than I can count.” All the wrongs Maxwell heaped upon his family simmered in the back of his mind.

Franco had hoped to ambush Maxwell and kill him. He learned about his trip to the McLellan castle through an informant posted in London. Neither his men nor he had any idea Eveleen or Logan were on the island, meaning to use the island as a vantage point and easy access to the land.

The intrusion of the couple had cost him two men. Although under the circumstances he was glad the girl was rescued. Sometimes his men had no morals or values and while he usually let them do what they wanted, this time he would have reprimanded them. He would not have tried them as rapists. The girl couldn’t remember what had happened.

The bodies were eventually recovered and they would receive burial at sea with full honors. He needed to return to France and regroup, unsure at the moment exactly how he would get his revenge. The vineyard in Bordeaux would be his starting point.

Lord Maxwell had turned over damning information about his actions to the new French government. Where the government before the revolution was concerned, he barely escaped with his head. Because of this, he lost his ancestral land, his fortune, as well as his title.

Then to add insult to his discomfort, Maxwell bought his land from the government, Maxwell’s newly acquired vineyard, at half its value. The loss devastated his financial situation as well as his pride. His knuckles fisted around the railing of the ship as it plowed through the ocean, spray hitting his face, reminding him of his misfortunes at Lord Maxwell’s hand.

“Can I get you anything, a meal, whiskey?” His new first mate, Tate Talbot, asked after approaching him.

“Dinner and the best Bordeaux on the ship. I’ll return to my cabin in a few minutes. Then we need to talk.” A few more minutes on deck, watching the swells in the ocean and feeling the wind on his face would help him sort out his thoughts.

“Dinner for two?” he queried.

“For two,” Franco said, once again turning his attention to the waves, thinking of his destination, Bordeaux and the business he meant to transpire while there. If he had time, he’d visit his sister and her son.

Waves and wind battled the ship. This would not be an easy crossing. His mind warred with his body. More thoughts of vengeance filled his head.

“Dinner is ready.” Talbot said. suddenly appearing by his side.

“The only solution is to kill Lord Maxwell or take what is dear to him.”