Chapter 26

Chapter 26

“Weston!” Lydia called out his name over and over again. She did not give a damn that she spoke informally of the duke, or who might overhear her yelling for him. The house was just as miserable as she remembered it. Of course, it had plenty of potential if she had been given the time and opportunity to dump resources into the place to make it more habitable, but she had not.

Now, after all of this mess was over and done with, she had a mind to sell the place, or allow it to rot into the ground. These were the sorts of memories that certainly did not need to be re-lived by having to revisit these places. William had chosen to take the top two floors on his own, his legs still more stable after all of this stress than she was feeling.

Lydia had been tasked with the first floor and the basement. She ran from room to room, slamming open the doors and calling out Weston’s name so loudly that her throat was starting to feel raw. It was a surreal feeling that she had in her gut.

She could feel him close, and there was absolutely no justifiable reason for her to think that. Yet, she was convinced that she was growing closer. There had been fresh hoof prints out front according to William. He had said when they arrived that there was every reason to believe that somebody had, in fact, come to her property recently.

“Weston!”

She hiked her skirts into her hands and headed down into the basement. The wet, mossy smell of the roof cellar overtaking her for a few moments before turning into the servant’s quarters, all wholly abandoned. She could not stop moving, no matter how her body protested every single movement that she was making.

Finally, voices! She ran toward them, nearly tripping over her own skirts in the process—stopping only when she heard the words more clearly. Cassian. Just as she presumed. It did not matter that she only caught the tail end of their conversation, she was certain that it would be enough proof—but first she needed to get into the room. The latch on the heavy door did not wish to open for her, but she yanked and pulled with all of her might until it swung free.

Cassian… and Weston in chains. Something about the sight made her want to lose the meager breakfast that had all but left her system.

It was something that she was never going to forget. Weston was bleeding from a cut just above his hairline and seemed rather uneasy on his feet. Cassian, clutching his forehead was leaning on one of the far walls for support. He seemed to be in a daze, and disoriented. Weston must have hit him somehow.

Without allowing herself to think about it, Lydia curried to Weston’s side, attempting to find where he was restrained so that she could liberate him.

“You… bastard…” Cassian wheezed, finally seeming to realize that they were not alone any longer.

“Stay away!” Lydia screamed at him. “I heard everything! You deplorable little roach!”

She only wished that she knew even worse words that she might have been able to throw at him. If ever she wished she knew the language of sailors, it was now.

Cassian’s face twisted, slowly staggering toward them as Lydia desperately fiddled with the pin and release system on Weston’s chains.

“The Bow Street Runners will be here at any moment! Stop! Before you make things worse for yourself!” Lydia screamed desperately as Cassian advanced.

Just when she thought that she got the chains—Cassian swung for her.

“Watch out!” Weston gasped, attempting to knock her out of the way with his shoulder.

Lydia screamed and fell to the side. She scrambled away from Cassian as he advanced on her.

“And when they arrive, they will find two dead bodies with only one witness. Guess things will work out for me after all!” Cassian hissed, sweat pouring down his face as he lunged for her, swinging madly.

Lydia curled in on herself, screaming in fear as she waited for the attack to land—but it never did.

Weston had finally freed himself. Whatever she had done must have been enough. She was still frozen, curled into her space by the wall as the two men fought. She had never heard the sounds of a man punching another quite that hard—and her stomach twisted all over again. She could not endure it.

Finally, with a sickening crunch—Weston landed a punch square on Cassian’s jaw. His head snapped to the side, and he went down. She could have sworn that the ground shook when Cassian fell. It was almost comical how his tongue lolled out of the side of his mouth.

“Lydia,” Weston called to her.

Slowly, she turned look at him. It was obvious that this was not the first time that he must have called out her name. He had one arm braced on the wall over her head and the other extended out toward her.

Her hand trembled as she extended it toward him. Carefully, Weston pulled her to her feet, pulling her into his arms. She folded into his chest without resistance as she blinked blearily at Cassian’s unconscious form. Why could she not look away?

“Are you all right?” he asked, attempting to check her over. She could not answer. Weston carefully let her lean against the closest wall before he moved to chain Cassian with the same chains that he had used on him moments before. At least that would hold him for however long it took the Bow Street Runners to arrive.

“Lydia, look at me.” Weston asked softly, lifting her chin to focus on him instead of Cassian. Her heart fluttered in her chest, all of her emotions seeming to catch up with her the moment that her eyes locked onto his.

Tears swam in her vision as she sagged forward, and he enveloped her tightly in his arms. She had been so frightened. Clearly, she was right in thinking that something truly terrible could have happened to him if she had been only a little bit later than she was.

“You were right, you know.” Weston said after a while, teasing her softly. “He is far more pleasant unconscious like this.”

She hiccupped a laugh. It felt like a lifetime ago when she had tied him up. So much pain could have been avoided. What a terrible, terrible man.

Weston guided the two of them into the hallway where she finally felt as if she could breathe again. She inhaled sharply, filling every bit of her lungs with air to try to steady herself. Weston lifted her chin to look at him once more, his eyes full of concern for her, as if he was the one who had not been in chains just moments ago.

She lifted her hand to cup his face, needing to make sure that he was truly here, and that she had made it here in time to save him. She had been so frightened. So many things wanted to roll off of her tongue, but she could not seem to utter a single one.

It was as if he could read her mind, pulling her closer until it left no space between them and slanting his lips over her own. Every panicked thought flew right out of her mind.

She twisted just enough to wrap her arms around his neck, pulling him down closer to her as she feverishly kissed him back. She could not stop the tears from running down her face despite her best efforts. She had come far too close to losing him. She did not know what she would have done if he had truly been lost to her once more.

Weston backed her against the closest wall, a comforting hand wrapped around the small of her back, keeping her close to him as he deepened the kiss. She needed to feel him against her, needed the heat of him to wrap around her fully so that every cell in her body could believe that he was here and safe.

A scandalized gasp breaks their kiss before things can get any more carried away.

Lydia turned her head to see Kitty and William standing at the foot of the stairs, her sister gawking at them both. Lydia’s face flushed with heat; she knew that she was blushing furiously. Her sheepish smile not nearly enough to properly convey her emotions.

Slowly, Weston took a half step back from her so as to appear to be more respectful, but she mourned the loss of his warmth and stability right away. It was for the best, for only a moment later her father and the Bow Street Runners all came rushing down the stairs, and Weston pointed them in the direction of where he had confined Cassian. Though, he was likely still very unconscious.

William guided the group of them back up the stairs, Kitty glancing back over her shoulder every few moments as she eagerly awaited an explanation from her sister as to what they just walked in on, but there were far more pressing matters at hand.

They stood in the foyer, nearly silent as Cassian’s body was brought up by the Runners in a small cart, carrying him out to the carriage awaiting him out front. At least she would be able to sleep easily tonight knowing that Cassian would be in jail awaiting a proper inquest.