Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-One

Leona wrapped her arm around her waist as she stood outside and allowed the crisp wind to flow around her. The days had been nicer and more spring like, but today had teetered closer to wintery weather. It didn’t matter. She enjoyed being out in the fresh air.

Her dogs ran and played without seeming to understand the turmoil swirling within her. Bottom line—she missed Trace. She also missed his son, who still currently stayed with the St. Martins at Heartstone.

She and Jackson had returned to her cottage. The additions had been completed and her work had picked up once more, so it wasn’t like she didn’t have things to do and to occupy her mind. None of that mattered when night came and she lay in bed thinking about the man she wanted more than her next breath.

Worried for him, and worried about Bethany who was running around somewhere, she tried not to think much about it. Failed in exceptional fashion, but she tried.

“Lass, come back inside.”

With a smile for Jackson, she whistled for her dogs and did as he’d bade. Closing the door behind her, she shrugged out of her wrap as she watched him pace in front of the fireplace.

“Everything okay, Jackson?”

“You have been sequestering yourself away ever since that man jumped on a ship and left. I’ll nae have it anymore.”

She got he was angry because his accent leaked through. Shaking her head, she said, “I have been working. I have a lot of requested commissions I have to finish.”

“Sequestering.”

“Working.”

“You turned down three invitations from Lady Heartstone to come for a visit.”

Because going there would mean seeing Falcon. Which would only intensify her thoughts of his father.

“I do not get work done if I am spending my days traveling in a carriage, Jackson.”

“Stop lying to us both, lass. We both know the reason, and it’s not healthy. I knew he was not good for you.”

“Is that what this is about? Because you do not approve of him?”

“Of course it is,” he roared. “That man and his family treated you worse than animals.”

“There is no reason to remind me how I was treated there. But that was his father. Trace has never been anything but good to me.”

“That man, lass, is going to be nothing but more pain for you. Your mother knew this and hoped you would come to understand this as a fact of life. But no, all I see is her crying because you are still holding onto some childhood fantasy that this man is the one for you.”

“Why are you saying this?”

He raked a hand through his salt and pepper hair. “Because it’s killing me to hear you cry yourself to sleep every goddamn night. Hoping and praying that he will come back to you.”

Tears sprang to Leona’s eyes and she swallowed hard, not wanting them to fall.

“If you feel this way, perhaps you should move out. This way you won’t have to hear me and you can be disappointed in me with the memory of my mother.”

“I only want to look out for you.”

“You want me to marry a man who is scared of you and that will not go against you. I do not need your protection. How about this. You stay here and I will go and visit Lady Heartstone. I think we could do with some time apart. I will leave right away.”

Spinning around, she walked away, the tears sliding free and dampening her cheeks.

“Leona, lass. Talk to me.”

She didn’t stop. There was nothing more for her to say.

Despite the fight, Jackson still had the carriage ready for her and the dogs. The tiger hopped down and secured her trunk before helping her in. The dogs jumped up and lay down. Without saying anything to Jackson, she leaned back against the seat and waited for them to depart.

* * * *

The entire trip she alternated between dozing and going over what Jackson had said. The words didn’t sting any less each time she revisited them.

When Heartstone came into view, she watched the sprawling home grow larger the closer they came. This wasn’t her life, she didn’t belong in a place like this.

After being helped down, she walked in and smiled as Keely came running toward her.

“Auntie Lea! You came to visit me.”

Leona sank to her knees and hugged the girl, feeling a sense of home when those arms tightened around her. Maybe I do belong here.

“I missed you,” she said, pulling back and touching Keely on the nose. “How have you been?”

“I am growing, the boys are mean, and I do not want to be the baby anymore.”

“That is a lot going on for you.” She pushed to her feet, heart softening as Keely wrapped their hands together.

“I know, it’s a lot for a little girl.”

She tried not to laugh. Bryn and Falcon appeared on the steps behind the footmen that had come to carry her bags up.

“Gentlemen,” she said with a nod.

Both boys gave her a bow and Keely let go of her hand to run up toward them. “I told her how you were mean to me.”

They shared a look and shrugged before waving in her direction and scampering down the stairs, leaving Keely behind.

The marchioness entered the front room. “Leona.”

The smile came so easily this time. She curtsied. “Lady Heartstone.”

Ciara walked up to her and hugged her. “I think you enjoy reminding me of my title.”

“I am giving you the respect you deserve.” Leona hugged her once more before stepping back. “How are you?”

“Grateful you finally decided to accept my invitation. I was almost to the point of coming out there to drag you back.” Her whiskey eyes narrowed. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

Leona’s chin wobbled as she shook her head. “I will okay. Just a row with Jackson.”

Ciara slid her arm through Leona’s. “Men. I am guessing this had to do with Trace?”

She squeezed her eyes together once more. “Yes.” With a sniff, she lifted her chin. “I will be fine.”

“We’ll talk later. Right now, I want you to meet someone. A friend of Lucien’s.” She directed them toward the receiving room. “He just got here about an hour ago.”

Allowing herself to be led, Leona composed her features right before they moved into the room. Seated in two chairs, drinks in hand, sat Lucien and his friend.

When the women walked in, both men rose as one. Lucien smiled as he looked at his wife, then turned his smile, less powerful, to Leona. The other man was as tall as Lucien, his sandy brown hair cut in the latest style. He had no facial hair and his eyes were gray, arresting.

“Leona,” Lucien said, “this is Phillip Vallence, Earl of Edais.”

The man came to her and bent over her hand, brushing his lips along the back. “My lady.”

She blushed and ducked her head. Definite flirt. “I am not a lady, just Leona.”

“It is an honor to meet you.”

He smiled and winked before stepping back under the extremely watchful eye of one Lucien St. Martin, the Marquess of Heartstone.

Ciara took her arm once more. “We are going to the sitting room to talk. We will see you gentlemen at the midday meal.”

They went to walk out when Leona heard, “Princess.”

She turned back when Ciara did. Lucien said nothing but his wife as he strode toward her, tipped up her chin with two fingers and kissed her. He slid an arm around her back, bringing them flush to each other.

Leona glanced away and found Phillip’s amused gaze on her.

“They always make me feel as if I am intruding.” He shrugged easily.

“You are,” Lucien said, releasing his wife. “Remind me again why I keep you around?”

“We are such good friends,” Phillip replied without any heat.

Lucien grunted. “We may have to revisit this.”

“Come along, Leona. They get this way, and it can be hours before they stop.” Together they went to the sitting room. Not much later, there was hot cocoa and sandwiches before them for a snack.

“Who is he?”

“The earl? One of Lucien’s oldest friends. He, Phillip and Rafe grew up together, causing trouble and breaking hearts. There was a time when they were at odds, but Phillip has changed.” She waggled her finger in Leona’s direction. “He is not one who will be doing a lot of flirting with you though. Even if you were not with Trace, Lucien would not allow that match.” Ciara took a drink. “Not because of what you are thinking. It has nothing to do with your lack of title or skin color, but purely because he looks upon you as a sister and would not let a man of such loose morals in your life like that.”

“Surely people can change.”

“And he has, but not enough to be okay for his sister.”

It was oddly comforting to hear herself being referred to as sister to a man with Lucien’s status.

“Tell me what happened,” Ciara ordered.

“Jackson continues to remind me that Trace is not the right man for me and that my mother would be disappointed in the knowledge I am happy with him.”

“What do you believe?”

“That she would be happy I am happy.”

“I think you are right. Jackson sees you as his daughter and therefore no man is going to be good enough for you, not in his eyes. My grandfather did not wish my parents to be together but he loves me unconditionally and I know this. Lucien’s father is coming around.”

“All Jackson sees when he looks at Trace is a man who owns slaves, and in his eyes that is all he will be good for.”

“What do you see?”

Leona trailed her finger along the accent pillow, following the jacquard pattern. “The man I love, the one I have always loved.”

“Do you not think, after all your pain and heartache, you are worthy of being happy?”

“I suppose so.”

“Then do not let anyone stop you.” Ciara squeezed her hand. “If being with Trace for you is like being with my Lucien for me, hold on to him with both hands and do not let go. Take flight with him and live your adventures together.”

“I am so lucky to have you as a friend.”

Ciara tugged her close and kissed her forehead, perfectly motherly. “It will all work out, you will see.”

If only she had half the confidence the marchioness did.

* * * *

Trace heard the plip of water and struggled to make sense of what had happened. One moment he had been questioning his brother in a jail cell and the next he had been clipped in the head.

Struggling to a seated position, he squinted through lowered lids, wishing his head would stop pounding. He didn’t recognize where he was.

“General?” Was the general here too?

His question had been pitched low because he wasn’t about to announce to the world he had woken. But his inquiry was not responded to. He tried twice more before he stopped and rested against the cold stone wall behind him.

He wasn’t tied, so there was the opportunity to escape. After making sure he hadn’t sustained any injuries, other than the hit to the head, he slowly pushed to his feet, utilizing the wall as support, for he was still weak on his limbs.

He checked his pockets and found they had been picked clean. Current status—unknown location, no money, and no way of proving he was who he said he was.

Panic rose for his son and Leona before he squashed it. Falcon was well protected under the watchful gaze of the Marquess of Heartstone and his family. Leona had them as well as Jackson to keep her safe.

It wasn’t the same as knowing he was there to do the job, but it did set him at ease a bit.

He checked the perimeter of the small space he was being held in. No handle on this side for him to try to open the door. Feeling through the darkness, he drew an image in his mind.

This was a jail cell. Smaller than the one he had been talking to Steven at, which meant he had been moved to a new location. Unless that place had an underground cell, which was possible. They hadn’t when he had been there last. That, however, did not mean one hadn’t been added since that time.

Who did this to me and for what reason?

Moving around a bit more to get his blood flowing, Trace latched onto an image of Leona and held it tight, unwilling to let her go. The door opened he heard the squeak of hinges, yet he still couldn’t see anything because everything remained dark. A net was tossed over him and he was dragged kicking and struggling out of the small room.

Not too much later he was strung up, and as he dangled from a hook two men strode in carrying lanterns, allowing him to see their faces. Men he didn’t know. They were soldiers though, that much he knew. They carried themselves in a certain way.

One was large and one smaller with wiry musculature.

“Colonel Morgan,” his larger captor said, setting his light down. “I have to tell you, it saddens me to do this to you.”

“Do what?”

“Punish you.”

“For?” He could barely touch the floor, so all his weight was pulling on his shoulders.

“Picking the wrong side.”

He growled low in his throat. “Where is my pitiful excuse for a brother?”

“Steven? In a jail cell last I knew. This has nothing to do with him, although later he may be used as a scapegoat when they find your dead body with that of your slave whore.”

He memorized their features for later, when he found them again to kill them. “Who hired you then? And why are you doing this?”

“Hired?” The smaller one spoke up. “We volunteered for this duty. There’s no pay involved.”

The larger one began unbuttoning his shirt, exposing a powerful torso. “This is honestly not going to bring me lots of pleasure, you understand, Colonel, but it will bring some. You have to learn the order of things again, as it is apparent that you have forgotten.”

He didn’t even fight. Whatever punishment they wanted to dole out, he had no problem accepting. He deserved it and more, by his estimation.

“What exactly am I supposed to learn?”

After the thinner man set down his light, he removed a whip from the bag that had been attached to his belt. Memories slammed into Trace as he stared at the three-foot leather whip with the tapered end.

Father’s favorite whip.His old man had preferred this one over the rest at his disposal.

“We fought to keep our way of life. To keep our lines unsullied. You not only disrespect that, but you take what does not belong to you.”

“Shut up and get on with it.” He closed his eyes once more, knowing this was going to hurt.

* * * *

Twenty minutes later, he continued to hang, spin and bleed. The man wielding the whip was worn out and had taken a break. All Trace could envision was his Leona enduring this at barely fifteen.

“I do not think he’ll break.”

“He will,” the larger one said, his voice deeper than the other’s. “We have a long time to get him to do so.”

“I will never break.”

He opened his eye and glared at them through the one eye that hadn’t been swollen shut. It hadn’t only been a whipping. They had taken great pleasure in beating him, using him as a bag to work out their frustrations on.

“Sure you will.”

The smaller one handed over a clean rag to the larger one, who wiped the blood off his meaty fists. The whip had drug through the dirt to be mingled with his own flesh each time they’d connected.

“What do you want from me?”

“We want you to return the slave you stole. And the boy.”

“They are safe in England and it doesn’t matter what you do to me, they will never be back.”

Their smiles turned his gut over. He could hang here and take anything they doled out, but if Leona or his son were in their clutches, he would not be able to handle it.

“They will be here soon.”

“Not a chance.”

“Of course they will. We sent them a letter shortly after you landed saying how you needed them both back here right away to save your life.”

He spat out the blood pooling in his mouth. “They’ll never believe that. Nor will they come.”

“You think this because they would not trust such words from just anyone. But we did have one person, well, two, whose words, we were informed, would be believed.”

That unease that had been fluttering in his belly grew in a second, nearly overtaking him.

“Who?”

“Well now, son, that would be me.” General Harrington turned the corner of the doorway, leaning against the wooden frame. “And that Ben slave. He signed it as well, before I slit his throat.”

Betrayal unlike anything that had swarmed him when he’d learned of his brother’s treachery consumed him.

“I trusted you,” he gasped.

“As you should. I was your commanding officer. It was my job to instruct you and teach you right from wrong. You have to believe I have your best interests in mind now. You will see, I am right.”

“Never,” Trace bit off. “Why do you need them back here?”

“Because you need to learn the punishment for someone who goes against me.” The general took a deep breath and lit a smoke. “Also, I want my son.”

Trace’s heart stopped for a moment before he blinked and tried to convince himself he’d been hearing things.

“Falcon is my son.”

The man laughed and blew a thin line of smoke toward the ceiling. “No. He is mine. I’ve been fucking your wife pretty much since you married her. All the times I sent you away, purely so I could have access to that pussy. And she gave it to me so willingly. She truly is a whore.” He walked closer. “I don’t give a damn about that bitch of his mother, but my son, I want him back. He needs to be here so he can be raised and taught the proper order of things.”

Drawing hard on the rolled tobacco, until the end glowed, General Harrington then put it to Trace’s skin. Trace hissed in pain but never lowered his gaze from the man doing this to him.

“He is my son,” he uttered with conviction. “When I found him he was living in filth because his mother and her current boyfriend, my brother, had been treating him like a dog.”

“Adversity makes for a stronger man.”

“You will not get your hands on him.”

“Of course I will. She’ll get your note and she will come with him, to save you. She will come alone because I know all the people around her and if they show their faces, I will slit your throat in front of her and my son. Once we have her again, she will stay here for the simple fact that she is under the misguided conception that you’ll be turned free.”

A cold haze settled over Trace and he nodded. “I may be hanging from some ropes right now, General, but if you do not kill me now, I will escape and I will kill you. Without hesitation or remorse.”

Another few burns on his chest.

“We will see how your tune changes when your slave is within my grasp. Sleep well, Colonel. Leave him there for the night, he should survive. If he does not, then he’s not the man I believe him to be.”

Within moments Trace was alone in the dark, still dangling from the hook. The tears snuck past his defenses. Again, for the second time in his life, he was not able to protect those who meant the most in the world to him.

He willed Leona to stay away, but knew if the note made it to her, she would come. And this time, he would lose them both.

No! Not this time. I will not let her be hurt again because of me.