The devil baron, p.13
The Devil Baron, page 13
“Vic…”
He didn’t have words. Have words for her. For any of it.
She looked up at him, the most magical smile on her face, like she’d just discovered a portal to the heavens. “Did I just do to you what you do to me?”
Damn.
His hands still clutching her head, he pulled her up his body, his lips crashing into her, his tongue diving deep into her mouth where he could taste his own seed mixing with her wetness still on his taste buds. Creating a flavor so carnal, so exquisite, he could easily drink it with every meal for the rest of his life.
She moaned into his mouth and he pulled away slightly, his words against her lips. “I think you did more.”
Her eyebrows lifted high and she drifted a breath away from him. “How is that possible?”
“I don’t know.” He shook his head under her stare. “I don’t know. But it happened.”
{ Chapter 16 }
Setting Fox down onto the floor to explore, Victoria stomped snow off her boots as she looked upward. The space above her soared upward to the Seahorn Castle entryway chandelier, already lit for the evening, a beacon to all her extended family that would be arriving over the next week.
She was a day ahead of schedule, even with all the delays that held her and Rafe back.
She still should have been faster. And she most certainly shouldn’t have been enjoying the journey—Rafe—as much as she had.
She was failing Eva.
“Victoria, you are here.” In front of her, the grey stone split staircase moved up to the next level where her father, Desmond Phillips, Earl of Troubant, appeared at the balcony that overlooked the entryway.
Relief etched clear on his face. He always looked like that when she arrived here. Like he could never quite believe that she was alive, that she would bring herself to him.
Not that not coming to Seahorn in December was ever much of an option. It was that, or roam around Wolfbridge by herself with just Claude and Lawrence to entertain her, as Reiner and Sloane and their children would all be here at Seahorn.
For all the strife that sat between them, she knew her father loved her, that he wanted her in his life. That wary relief creased into the lines on his face told her that. Each and every time.
His look shifted from her to the man standing behind her and he darted to the left, his bare feet so quick down the stone stairs that she feared for him tripping and cracking his head open. She smiled at his bare toes. He hated shoes of any sort, no matter the chill of the stone underneath his feet.
His eyes started to squint, then narrow on her face the closer he got to her, his stride rushing. Pulling to a stop in front of her, her grabbed her shoulders instead of pulling her into his customary hug. His look flickered to Rafe and then back to her, and he scrutinized her face, his stare pausing for a long moment on her right eye.
At first, it was just a flicker, but then full-blown rage exploded in his hazel eyes and his glare shifted over her shoulder to Rafe.
Without a word, he shuffled her sideways, then charged, his forearm ramming into Rafe’s throat as he jammed Rafe up against the door.
“What in the bloody hell did you do to my daughter?”
Rafe’s eyes wide, his hands came up at his sides, trying to calm the instant raging explosion Desmond met them with.
“I didn’t do anything—”
“Who in the fucking hell are you, you bastard?” Desmond jerked back slightly, then slammed back into him, Rafe’s back making a dull thunking sound onto the heavy oak door. “You come into my home with my daughter looking like this and you stand there without an explanation?”
Blast. Her right eye. Her instant confusion at the unprovoked attack clicked into sense. She’d forgotten about the black shadow ringing her eye from that brute that had hit her when she’d been attacked.
Rafe had started off calm, but with the second slam of his body against the door, something in his face snapped and the eerie cold she hated slid onto his face.
Imminent danger from both sides.
She forced herself in between the two men, shoving at her father’s body with her right hand, and grabbing his arm pinning Rafe to the door with her left. “Desmond, get off him this instant. We don’t have time for this. Back up. Back up.”
He didn’t move a muscle, his seething glare still directed at Rafe. Murder in his eyes. She was nothing more than a gnat bouncing off a lion. Why did every man in her life have to be twice her size and hard as stone? And she could feel Rafe behind her, his body prickling, energy pouring off him, ready for a fight.
She yanked herself up on Desmond’s arm, putting her face directly in front of his, her voice a scream. “Father, stop. Unhand him this instant. You don’t know what you’re doing and we have much bigger problems to worry about.”
That did it. Desmond’s eyes shifted off Rafe toward her, a snarl curling his lip when his glare locked onto her black eye. “The explanation better have everything to do with whatever the hell happened to your eye.”
She dropped back onto her feet, letting his arm go so he could pull it away from Rafe. She wedged herself fully in front of Desmond. “My eye is the least of our worries at the moment. This is just like you, flying off like a crazed hyena the second any man so much as looks at me. You don’t change. I ask you again and again and ag—”
“Vic, you might want to tell him about the carriage.” Rafe’s soft words behind her cut her off.
He interrupted her tirade so smoothly her words stopped instantly and she had to shake her head to reorientate herself to what was important at the moment.
“Fine. Yes.” She sucked in a quick breath, her words speeding as Rafe slipped out from behind her and stood next to her. A little bit in front of her, even. He wasn’t going to hide behind her. If anything, he was looking at Desmond with as much animosity as her father was pinning on him. “Our carriage—Eva and I were in it, a day and a half out of Wolfbridge and it was attacked. All of our men, gone—killed—I don’t know, they were so far back that I didn’t see what happened to them by the time the carriage righted itself—”
“Your carriage almost tipped over?” Desmond’s hands were still in fists, his storming hazel eyes ablaze with worry.
“It did. It righted itself, but by the time all wheels were on the ground and we could see out of the window, there were only these cutthroats on the carriage. Percival, Claude, Lawrence and Mr. Drewson were all gone.”
“All of them?”
She nodded. “Only these brutes on it and it was flying fast.”
Desmond’s finger flung out at Rafe. “He’s one of them?”
“No.” She screamed in frustration as she slapped at his wrist, shoving his accusing finger out of the air. Why was he so determined to make Rafe the evil one? “No. The men—those brutes—one of them yanked me out of the carriage while it was still moving and dropped me on the road. They didn’t even stop.”
“Wasn’t Wolfbridge behind you?”
“No. They were leaving a day after us.” She held up her hand to stop his interruptions. “The important part is that they took off with Eva.”
“They what?” Shock and alarm overtook all the ire on his face.
“They took her. They didn’t want me. But they definitely wanted her. They took off, the carriage speeding away. Is Uncle Lachlan here yet? He needs to know.”
“No, he’s still a day out. A couple of his men arrived earlier today.”
“You need to send them back out onto the road to get him—you need to get him here, so I can tell him everything. Or I will go to him.”
Desmond’s fingers went to his face, rubbing across his eyes as he shook his head. “Bloody hell—did they hurt you? Is that why your eye looks—”
“I am fine, Father. Fine. We need to go after Eva.”
Desmond’s look swung to Rafe. “Then who is he?”
“Rafe Somner, Baron Winfred, my lord.” The words came clipped out of Rafe’s mouth.
“Baron Win—I’ve never heard of you.” Desmond’s eyes narrowed again at Rafe, hostility resurfacing.
“It’s a title of the Netherlands, so keep your anger in check—he was at the Eve of Winter Ball at Wolfbridge.” Her voice lifted, but she managed to not squeak in frustration again. Just barely. “Rafe was leaving the area just like everyone else after the party and he happened upon me on the road. And then he has been kind enough to bring me all the way here to Seahorn.”
“Why not go back to Wolfbridge? We were farther away.”
Her hands flew up at her sides. “I was dropped on the blasted road like refuse. I had nothing with me—only my clothes and I needed to get help for Eva. We went after them, trying to find her but could find no trace of the coach. But they wanted her—Eva—specifically. Lachlan is coming here, not to Wolfbridge, and if anyone knows who would take her or why, it would be him. Reiner wouldn’t know and I also didn’t know what route they were taking, so I didn’t want to waste three days going back and forth to Wolfbridge for nothing when I could get here quicker. Would you please stop scrutinizing everything I say and get the riders out to Lachlan?”
Desmond seethed a breath, his head shaking at her, then his glare snapped to Rafe. “This isn’t over. I’ll deal with you later. Don’t you dare leave this place, man.”
Her father spun on his heel, running to the stairs and charging up them two at a time.
She turned to look up at Rafe. “I’m sorry. After all you’ve done to get me here. He will calm. I’ll make him calm. I promise.”
“Don’t apologize for his temper.” The cold mask still sat in place, but now she could see through a small fissure of it around his eyes. He was furious at having been manhandled and not allowing himself to fight back.
“I appreciate you not fighting him. I know it’s not your nature. He’s usually not like that—so angry.” She shook her head. “We should go greet my stepmother. Apprise her of the situation.”
Victoria gave a low whistle and Fox ambled over to her. She picked him up, her hands still shaking from the confrontation, then started toward the staircase on the left. Seahorn was a labyrinth of corridors that looped and cut off in dead ends, but to the left wing was where she imagined her stepmother to be.
Rafe followed along, a half step behind her on the stairs which put him mostly eye-level with her. “You previously mentioned it, but your father is…
“Overprotective? I’ve noticed.” She stomped up the stairs, the blood in her brain boiling hot, making her want to scream and punch walls. Where was Jules? Her stepmother could always calm her down and she needed calm.
At the top of the stairs Rafe set his hand on the small of her back, but not to direct her where to go. She wasn’t even sure why he did it, but at his touch, the oddest thing happened. The touch cooled her. Cooled her enough that she wasn’t seeing red.
Her feet slowed, no longer stomping along the wooden floors of the corridors.
They found Jules in the nursery with her back to the doorway, looking out the window. She held her daughter, Susannah, high on her chest, the babe’s little one-year-old chin resting on her shoulder.
Wide open blue-green eyes—exactly like Jules’s eyes—looked at them, a gurgle at the babe’s chubby lips.
At the sound of them stepping into the nursery, Jules spun, her face lighting up as she spied Victoria. Then her smile froze in place as she noticed Rafe standing just inside the door.
“Vicky, you are early—you don’t know how happy that makes me. And you have a dog and someone I haven’t met in tow. Has it only been three months since I’ve seen you last?”
Victoria laughed, closing the distance between her and Jules and wrapping her and the babe in a tight hug with her free arm. She pulled back, looking at her stepmother. “It’s good to see you as well, but why the extra enthusiasm?”
Jules nudged her head toward the rooms down the hall. “Tarrence has been pestering me every hour, sometimes every half hour, as to when you would arrive. He’s been doing it for days ever since Des accidentally mentioned you had left Wolfbridge for here. I was too late in clamping my hand across your father’s mouth to stop him. And you know how Tarrence is. He’s been focused on one thing and one thing only—to make his favorite older sister appear by sheer force of will—or by asking me a thousand times when you’ll arrive.”
Victoria laughed. “The squishy little bugger. I’ve missed him.” She had. She adored her little half-brother. He was only three, looked like a miniature Desmond, and could already charm any lady in the room. “We’ll go see him in a bit and I can deliver Fox to him.” She lifted the puppy in her arm to Jules. “The pup should keep him busy for at least an hour.”
“I will take five minutes.” Jules’s blue-green eyes shifted to Rafe, her gaze wary, but curious. “Who have you brought with you?” She looked back to Victoria. “And why do you have a black eye?”
At least her stepmother asked questions in the right order. Victoria turned to the side, lifting her hand toward Rafe and he stepped farther into the room, stopping before Victoria and Jules. “Jules, this is Rafe Somner, Baron of Winfred. Rafe, this is my much-adored stepmother, Jules Phillips, the Countess of Troubant.”
“It is an honor to meet you, Lady Troubant.” He inclined his head to her.
Victoria studied his profile as he greeted Jules and she was relieved to find the cool mask from earlier had eased into calm politeness.
“And I you,” Jules said, a half-smile on her face as she looked from him to Victoria. “May I ask how you’ve found yourself accompanying Vicky to Seahorn?”
“There is my explanation, and Victoria’s explanation.” He inclined his head toward Victoria. “Hers will be much more thorough.”
Jules looked at him, a grin wiggling on her lips. “Why don’t we start with your version first, then.”
“I found her in the middle of the road, her carriage long gone. I brought her here to Seahorn.”
She slowly gave one nod of her head, then looked to Victoria. “And your version?”
Victoria quickly relayed the story she’d told Desmond.
Panic flooded Jules’s face. “Does Des know all of this?”
Victoria nodded. “He caught us in the foyer. He already went to round up the Scotsmen that arrived earlier.”
“Good.” Her gaze shifted between Rafe and Victoria again and a frown overtook her face as she shook her head. “Oh, sweet one, I have to ask, am I right in assuming your father did not do well with you strolling in here with a strange male?”
Victoria’s lips pursed for a long second. “No, he did not. But he has moved onto gathering men to go after Eva now, which is the most important thing at the moment.”
Jules shifted a hand off of the babe’s back to point at Victoria’s face. “You left out the part where you got the black eye. Where did it come from?”
Victoria touched her cheekbone below her eye. The bruise must have gotten darker today for the way both Desmond and Jules reacted to it. “There were some men that attacked me outside one of the coaching inns.”
Jules’s head snapped back. “Did they hurt you?”
“Just the eye. Rafe intervened at a crucial moment.”
Jules let out a breath of relief, her look now curious on Rafe. “Well, thank you for that, Lord Winfred. And thank you for bringing our dear Vicky safely to Seahorn. Do you think the men that attacked her were the same ones that kidnapped Eva?”
“I don’t.”
Her eyes narrowed, shrewd. “Why?”
“They were more the average drunk bastards that had spied a skirt they could corner and lift. For their stupidity and skill at fighting, I don’t imagine they could have helped with disposing of all four of the men surrounding Victoria and Eva.”
Jules’s hand rubbed along the spine of Susannah as she nodded, her stare still scrutinizing Rafe. “Can I ask what is between you and my daughter, Lord Winfred?”
Jules had asked Victoria long ago for permission to call Victoria her daughter. Not in an overbearing way, Jules just wanted everyone to know exactly how much she loved Victoria. Victoria had a mother she’d never known, then a mother in Sloane, and in Jules, she had an additional, unexpected mother that loved her just as fiercely as she did her natural born children.
Rafe’s gaze shifted to Victoria.
Victoria groaned inwardly. His look on her alone probably told Jules volumes she wasn’t ready to share yet.
Just as she was about to open her mouth to answer for Rafe, Desmond popped his head into the nursery. “Here you are.”
He walked into the room and caressed the top of Susannah’s red-fuzzed head, then kissed it. He looked up to Jules. “Victoria told you everything?”
“Not quite everything, but enough to understand where you are about to leave to.”
He nodded. “I’m going with the Scots to retrieve Lach and then to go after Eva. With any luck, we’ll meet Reiner and Sloane, and hopefully Roe and Torrie as well along the route and we can enlist their help.”
He looked to Victoria. “When were Reiner and Roe due to leave Wolfbridge?”
“Roe and Torrie were to leave the day after us. They were going to leave when we did, but little Quinton had bit of a fever, and Torrie wanted to stay an extra night or two at Wolfbridge because of the doctor Reiner has on hand. Uncle Reiner and Sloane were to leave with their children two days after us.”
Desmond nodded, his look shifting back to his wife. “I already told Fredrick to bring in the extra forces to fully surround Seahorn.”
“Is that necessary?” Jules gave a slight shake of her head. “Whoever those men were, they took Eva. This probably doesn’t have anything to do with us. I would guess Lach already knows exactly what this is about.”
“I’m not taking any chances.”
She nodded, her fingers rubbing up and down Susannah’s back as the babe shifted, gurgling.
Victoria stepped forward, grabbing her father’s arm. “I should come with you to find Lachlan.”
