Chapter Nineteen
“Witherspoon, you blackguard!”
Bloody hell! I must be dreaming. James closed his eyes for a second, praying the figure of Phoebe’s elder brother was but a figment of his imagination. He snapped them back open, gaze instantly keying in on a murderous Edward Landon.James suppressed a groan. This was a stroke of supremely bad luck.
“I should kill you,” the duke growled, grinding to a halt. “How dare you come to my sister’s cottage after mistreating her so?”
James squared off with the arrogant duke. “I’m here to marry her, Corsair. I want to make things right.”
Edward sneered. “I would never allow Phoebe to align herself with you. I’ve made all the necessary arrangements, and my sister will emerge from this debacle unscathed despite your abuse.” He raked a superior leer the length of James. “I can appreciate that you’re making an attempt to be honorable,” he said grudgingly, disdain dripping from his tone, “and as such, I will grant you this one opportunity to leave and never return.”
Rankled by the duke’s condescending attitude, James strove to maintain his cool and state his case. “Your Grace, I love her. I realize that—”
“Enough,” Edward spat, smoky eyes smoldering with anger. “My patience is wearing thin. I don’t wish to make this situation any more difficult on my sister than necessary. Now go slink back into whatever bottle you crawled out of and leave us in peace.” He turned away, dismissing James once and for all.
Anger mounting, James cracked the knuckles in his left hand, itching to plunge a fist into the arrogant Duke’s face. “You have no right to take my child from me.”
Edward pivoted back to face him, seething. “I have every right. My sister—”
“Your sister would have eloped with me in a second last spring.”
Corsair’s lip curled with anger and menace. “I should call you out.”
“You’d lose,” James goaded.
“You son of a bitch.” Hands balled into fists, Edward charged him.
James knew he deserved a brotherly beating after everything that had happened with Phoebe, but at the moment, he didn’t particularly care. All of the pent up hurt and uncertainty boiled over. James wanted to pound something, and, duke or otherwise, Edward Landon’s pretty mug would do just fine.
Edward cocked a fist and let it fly.
James nimbly ducked the first swing and tackled him to the ground. Rage pumped through his veins as he fisted Edward’s collar in his hands. “Corsair, you bastard, you should have told me she was pregnant.”
“To what end, Wtherspoon?” Edward’s fist slammed into James’s jaw. “If you really wanted her you would have eloped with her before sailing to Brussels.”
James slammed Edward into the dirt. “I should have.”
“Stop!” Phoebe cried.
James scarcely heard as he released the rage pulsing through him, and continued grappling with Corsair. Edward proved to be considerably stronger and more skilled as a fighter than James would have expected for a spoiled duke, and Edward landed a few harsh blows though he never managed to gain the upper hand.
“Don’t!” Phoebe’s voice sliced through the air. “Nicholas, help! Stop them before they kill each other.”
James had Edward pinned solidly beneath him when a set of burly arms snaked beneath his shoulders, dragging him bodily off of Edward.
“Stand down!” Nick Collins’s firm command battled the red haze consuming James’s mind.
Breathing heavily, Edward staggered to his feet, eyes blazing. Blood dripped from his split lip, and if the man had held a weapon at that moment James had no doubt he would have used it. “Don’t order me to stand down! That son of a bitch murdered my brother and ruined my sister.”
“I did not kill, Patrick,” James growled.
“You deserve to be shot where you stand.”
“Then why don’t you do it,” James spat.
Edward raked a seething, disdainful glare the length of him, making it clear the young duke believed James unfit to breathe the same air as an aristocrat of his caliber. “Because you’re not worth it.”
That was the final straw. Something within James snapped. The man always itching for a drink, trouble, and a good fight—not necessarily in that order—resurfaced. Eyes narrowed, he strained against Nick’s hold. “Or maybe you’re just a coward.”
“Shut up, James.” Nick shook him. Hard.
James ignored his friend completely. “You know nothing, Corsair. You—”
Phoebe dashed between them, full on fear lacing her pretty face. She held her arms out, one palm flattened in Edward’s direction and the other raised toward James in the universal gesture of halt!.
Shaken momentarily from his single-minded rage, James dragged in a breath and glanced at his surroundings. Sarah stood by the house, holding the reins to Edward’s horse, trying to keep the spooked animal calm, while Mrs. Condon and Elizabeth huddled in the doorway with sheet white expressions.
Edward’s lethal glare turned onto his sister. “What is the meaning of this Phoebe?”
“Edward, please calm down.”
“Did you invite this wastrel here?”
“No,” she replied quickly. She shifted anxious eyes to James. “Please, leave before this situation gets any worse.”
James yanked against Nick’s vise-like grip. “Not unless you come with me.”
Phoebe’s sad, stormy eyes locked with his, and for the first time since his return he saw hesitation in their depths.
His heart leapt with hope. He was there, quite literally fighting for her, would it be enough to prove his love and desire to make amends?
After a long moment she glanced back to her brother and finally dropped her gaze to the dirt. “Goodbye, Colonel. Please don’t return.” Phoebe’s gaze flipped up to Nick. “Captain Collins, please see Colonel Witherspoon back to the village and see to it he leaves before dawn tomorrow.”
Nick sighed heavily. “Of course, my lady.”
Desperate James wrenched against Nick’s grasp, but his friend held surprisingly fast, dragging him back a few paces.
“Not now,” Nick muttered urgently for James’ ears only. “Know when to retreat, old boy. Know when to retreat.”
* * *
Moonlight slid through the single square window in Phoebe’s bedroom, illuminating the modest space with a silver glow. The hour was well past midnight, but sleep refused to come and mask the bleak memories of the day. It may help if she undressed, but she lacked the desire to do so and the hour was so late, she’d hate to wake Elizabeth. In truth, however, she fully believed she was doomed to pass a sleepless night after all that had happened that day.
Once Nicholas had dragged James away, Edward had spiraled into an epic tirade. He’d threatened to fire Mrs. Condon and Elizabeth, as well as to disown Phoebe. Phoebe had met her brother’s rage with absolute calm, after all, there was nothing left for him to take from her, and he’d eventually settled down. Everyone—Mrs. Condon, Elizabeth, Phoebe, and Sarah—had insisted that James had only just arrived and come uninvited. No one bothered with trying to reason with Edward that it may be for the best if he allowed James and Phoebe to marry. Now wasn’t the time, his hatred ran too deep.
Toward suppertime Nick had returned for Sarah and announced that James had in fact left. At that point Phoebe had flashed Sarah a look that clearly said, I told you so. Rather than stay and continue fighting for her James had once again run away. All along Phoebe had known it wouldn’t take much to drive him away again. Best to have him gone for good now. She should be relieved. Unfortunately relief was the last thing she felt. Instead she felt rather hollow… numb in a depressing sort of way. She—
Clink.
Startled, she sat up on the bed. What was that?
Clink. Clunk!
The window. Something must have hit the window.
Rising, she hurried the couple of steps to the glass and peaked out. Could it be a tree branch? Or even a bird? Perhaps—
“Oh!” she muffled a cry as a man’s face appeared in front of the window. “James.”
He waved through the glass. “Open the window,” he mouthed.
She quickly complied, unable to quell the excitement rising inside her. He’d stayed! He’d defied her brother and stayed. “What are you doing here?” she demanded in a harsh whisper. It wouldn’t do to wake Edward.
“I came for you,” he replied.
Her heart leapt. “James, I—”
“No more denials, Phoebe. You don’t trust me and you have every right not to, but right now you’re coming with me if I have to drag you kicking and screaming through that window. Once we’re married I intend to spend every spare moment of our lives proving that you can.”
Phoebe gulped and stared into his warm, earnest eyes. A large part of her wanted nothing more than to climb through the window and tumble into his arms.
“Today I beat a peer of the realm bloody. Do you know how much trouble I could be in for that? I could be arrested, and I did it for you,” he said urgently. “Your brother wants what is best for you, I truly believe that, and if I had a sister I’m the last man in the world I would chose for her, but none of that matters anymore. We are to have a child, Phoebe, and it’s our child. No one else’s.” He reached through the window, grasping her hand. “Give us a chance. I want to be a family.”
“Oh, James,” she whispered, heart and soul full after his speech. “I—”
“Phoebe?” Edward’s voice bellowed from within the cottage. “Who are you talking to?”
“Bloody hell,” James muttered. Expression grave, he stretched both arms through the window, reaching for her.
Phoebe backed swiftly away, narrowly avoiding his grasp. Soundlessly she crossed the room and carefully struck the lock on the door. “You must be dreaming, Edward. It is the middle of the night. There is no one to speak with, everyone is asleep.”
Focusing on James, Phoebe hurried back toward the window .
The door handle rattled. “Are you decent?” Edward asked. “Open the door.”
“Go back to bed, Edward. I’m exhausted. We’ll talk in the morning.” She scooped her slippers off the floor and rushed to James. “Let’s go,” she mouthed, scooting her backside onto the windowsill. He slipped one arm beneath her knees and wrapped the other around her lower back, lifting her as though she weighed no more than a feather. Her heart leapt as she looped her arms around his neck and settled against his chest. It felt so good to be in his arms again.
He pressed a quick impulsive kiss to her lips. “Thank you,” he whispered, and then settled her feet to the ground.
Reeling from the turn of events, Phoebe quickly stuffed her feet into the slippers, took his hand and dashed into the darkness at his side. “I can’t believe we just did that,” she whispered emphatically, squeezing James’s hand as they rushed through the shrubberies. Part of her could scarcely believe this was real. Maybe it was just another of her many vivid dreams.
A bush scratched her arm.
Definitely not a dream.
“What next,” she asked in a hushed tone, struggling to keep pace with James’s ground eating strides. “Edward will be close behind us once he realize I’m gone.”
“Collins is waiting up the road with a horse and cart. With any luck we’ll be to Scotland by dawn and legally married before your brother catches up.”
“Nicholas is helping you?”
James flashed her a grin. “Sarah as well. When Nick returned for her this afternoon, he asked she and Mrs. Condon to smuggle a few of your belongings out.”
“I’m not sure if I should feel grateful or betrayed.”
“Grateful,” James replied. “From what I ‘ve seen your friends and servants hold your well-being in the highest regard. They all also happen to be on my side.” He glanced down to her with a wink. “Perhaps you should listen to them.”
Phoebe smiled sheepishly. “I am.” She was also listening to her own heart, but she kept that bit to herself for the moment.
Within minutes, they came upon Sam lashed to a cart just big enough to fit two. Nick Collins stood at the horse’s head and waved as Phoebe and James approached.
“Thank you, Collins.” James pumped the other man’s hand before turning to help Phoebe into the curricle and climbing in himself. “Wish we could stay and chat for a moment, but there is a good chance Corsair is close behind us.”
“I’ll take care of Corsair. His bark is worse than his bite. I have no doubt Sarah and Mrs. Condon will settle him down.”
Phoebe reached down from the cart. “Thank you, Nicholas.”
He took her proffered hand and squeezed it. “It is my pleasure, Lady Phoebe. I wish you every happiness.
“Tell Sarah I’ll write as soon as I’m able.”
“I will.” Nick grinned and squeezed her hand.
“Phoebe!”
Oh, no. Phoebe’s gaze snapped upward. Edward barreled down the dirt road totally disheveled. “Go, James. Now.”
He needed no further urging and slapped the reins against Sam’s rump. The cart jerked forward.
Nick turned toward Edward with arms raised.
“What are you thinking, Phoebe?” her brother cried breathlessly. “Don’t leave with him.”
“I’m sorry, Edward,” she called back. “But I don’t want to give up my baby.”
He stumbled to a halt beside Nick. “If you go with him then you’re no longer a part of this family. You’re dead to me!”