Chapter Twenty-Four
Harry knelt before Sarah and brought her hand once again to his lips. And once again Sarah held back the revulsion that coursed through her body. Did the man have some sort of special ability to drink more than any other man and still remain conscious? For he had dunk almost the entire bottle of brandy and yet still maintained even the smallest of his faculties.
Once again, Sarah took the bottle from him and pretended to drink. His single eye moved to her breasts, as they had often throughout their time together, the longing he exhibited making Sarah ill.
She glanced down again from her seat as he once more pressed his dirty lips to her hand. His crooked smile covered his entire face as he looked up at her with expectation. When she gave no sign of the Courtship of the Two Birds working, he frowned.
“Enough of the ceremony,” he said in a slurred voice as he attempted to stand. “Time for bed.” He wobbled on his feet, and Sarah took the bottle from his hand making as if to take a drink. “One more kiss for the mood.” Harry grabbed her hand again and pressed his lips to her knuckles. She wondered if her hand would ever be clean enough to hold a fork when this nightmare was over.
Then everything happened at once. Just as she brought the now almost empty bottle down on the top of Harry’s head, the front door burst open, and James rushed through with a roar, his face the brightest crimson she had ever seen on him before. He stopped mid-step and stared, his jaw hanging open.
Harry gasped. “Why did…” he started to say.
Sarah let out a shrill scream when Harry stood up and grabbed the back of his head, a look of such anger, she feared the man would carry her off as James stood watching with that dumbfounded look upon his face. But in the next moment James, seeming to have regained his senses, took another step forward and delivered a blow to Harry’s jaw, the crack resounding in the small room.
Sarah had never witnessed such barbaric actions in such close proximity, and she held her hand against her breast in an attempt to keep her heart from bursting from her chest from the excitement of it all.
James grabbed Harry by his shirt and lifted the man off the floor. “He’s out cold.” He let go of the shirt and Harry slumped over into a heap. James then turned to Sarah. “Are you all right?” he asked between gasps. “I am so glad I saved you from this brute.”
Sarah could not believe the cheek of the man. “Saved me? I was doing quite well until you burst into the room like some sort of barbarian,” she said, standing up and smoothing out her dress.
James raised an eyebrow as he stepped closer to her. “I was worried,” he said. “Are you sure you are fine?”
Sarah looked into his brown eyes, her heart racing. Even when she was a mere heartbeat away from losing her innocence, she could not help but be drawn into those eyes. For a moment, all anger she had for him from earlier in the day was gone. In its place was a longing for him to press his lips against hers. To hold her, and maybe even thank her for putting an end to Harry.
“I promise, I am fine,” she whispered breathlessly.
Then, much to her dismay, James did what men always did, ruined any moment of civility and romance that could have blossomed. He turned, went back to Harry and stood over him. “Where did he kiss you?” James asked in an angry voice. Was he jealous? The idea made her want to laugh, but she held it inside.
She put her hands behind her back as she shook her head and studied the lines in the wooden floor. “I cannot say, for the shame would never leave me. However, if you are worried I am ruined, fear not. I merely told him that I was aroused by the smell of liquor from his lips and he believed it.”
“You mean you didn't really have desires for me?” Harry croaked.
Sara looked down at the man without pity but said nothing.
James, however, grabbed the man by his shirt once again and pulled him so his face was just inches from his. “I should pummel your face for eternity for hurting my fiancée,” he said through a clenched jaw. “Tell me why I should not.”
Sarah snorted as she pushed herself between the two men. “I am not your fiancée. Do not think because this savage kidnapped me I am going to marry you!”
“Does that mean you’re going to marry me?” Harry asked.
Sarah and James looked down at him. “No!” they both shouted in unison.
“You truly are a disgusting scoundrel,” James said to the man. “How could you kidnap a woman and then try to have your way with her? I should see you hanged for this.”
Much to Sarah’s surprise, the man began to weep. She feared James would kill him and perhaps maybe even lay the blame on her so he could retain his title.
She placed her hand on James’s arm. “I do not wish you to hurt him,” she said quietly. “Let him go.”
When she looked into his eyes once again, she saw the anger slowly dissipate, and her heart could stand it no longer. This was the man she loved, and she could no longer ignore that fact.
“He sought to hurt you,” James said, amazement in his voice. “He brought you here against your will.”
Sarah nodded. “But I am now safe. Let him go, James.”
For a moment, James only stared at her, but then he turned toward Harry. “My name is Lord James Foxworth, Duke of…” he started to say before Harry cut him off.
“The Duke of Pillberton?” Harry was now as white as a sheet. “The man who burned down a family's estate? Who massacred all the workers with a pitchfork? Most of us men had considered that story as just legend.” Harry’s voice was just above a whisper as he spoke.
James turned toward Sarah and she quickly looked down at the floor, finding a sudden interest in her feet. When she looked back up, he was studying her with an intense, yet curious, look.
“As I was saying,” James said, his voice sounding disturbed, “if I were you, I would leave this moment and never return within a thousand miles of this area. And do not think I cannot find out if you try this again with Sarah—or any other woman for that matter. Marcus told me enough that I could have you tracked down within an hour.”
Harry gulped, his hands shaking. “You know Marcus?”
“I know every man across this country. Now, leave before I decide to send word to have you hunted down and shot this very night.”
Harry did not have to be told twice and he rushed to the door, his feet still bare.
James walked over, his large frame all but blocking the doorway as he watched Harry run off into the night.
Sarah let out a silent sigh as her eyes roamed across his broad back, the dark blue coat tight against his muscles. Even in his soaked state he was a handsome man, one any woman would desire. And try as she might, she could not deny the desire that built up in her as she wondered what his back looked like under that coat. She bit at her lip and shook her head. Was she growing soft? It was one thing to admit she loved him and quite another to wonder what he looked like bereft of clothing.
“He is gone now,” James said as he closed the door and turned around. “If it was not for your mercy, I would have finished what I started.” The proud smile on his face brought back the memories of her frustration with the man.
“Your mercy?” she said in astonishment. “What you started? It was the bottle against his head that sent him to the ground, not your fist. If it wasn't for me…” Her voice choked as the emotions from all that had transpired that day finally caught up with her. Soon, tears streamed down her face, and try as she might, she could not stop them.
“Here, let me hold you,” he said, his arms outstretched.
Sarah gasped. “My moment of weakness and all you can think about is pressing your body against mine?” She walked over to stand near the fire with her back to him. When she heard the loud sigh, the tears stopped and a small smile played at her lips.
“You must tell me what happened,” James said in a feeble attempt to change the subject. “When did those men take you? How did you know to get him drunk? And why did you not run at the most opportune moment?”
Sarah turned around and sighed dramatically. “It is a tale I ask you never to repeat,” she said. When he nodded his agreement, she placed her hands behind her back and began to pace the small room.
“After the verbal assault on my good name today,” she said in her best theatrical voice, “I decided to take Molly out for a short ride. That man, Harry,” she said, nodding towards the door, “was the last member of a deadly group of pirates that were shipwrecked in England many years ago that now roam the countryside stealing women for their own carnal desires.”
James took a seat in one of the chairs next to the fire and leaned back into it. “Oh, my!” he said. When she shot him a glare, he quickly added, “I do apologize. Please continue.” He wore an amused smile, which she chose to ignore.
“I knew something was amiss when I saw the woman they had on the side of the road bound in rope. I could not pass by and go in search of help, for I feared it would be too late for her and they would be able to go through with their deadly deed and she would be lost forever. So, I asked them to take me instead and let her go.”
For some time she spoke and was thrilled as James seemed to soak in every word. The tale she told was true, at least some of it. Of course, there had been no other woman and the men were not truly pirates from the high seas, but they were pirates in their own way, so it still was the truth in its own sense. When she was done, she found herself exhausted and took a seat opposite James.
“I am glad you are safe and that you managed to save yourself,” he said, which made her smile. Perhaps he was not as ignorant as she had led herself to believe and maybe there was hope for him after all. “I would like to explain about my mother and the events that transpired today, if you please.”
Sarah stood and put her hand to her mouth to stifle a yawn. “You can tell me come morning. I would like to go to sleep so we can leave early.”
“Very well, then,” James said, rising up from his chair.
“That was not an invitation for you to join me!” Sarah gasped. She shook her head as she grabbed the only candle, knowing full well he would be left with the fire as his only source of light.
“Goodnight, Sarah,” he called after her.
She snorted and then stomped off to the bedroom, feeling his gaze on her as she passed him. Once the door was closed behind her, however, she let out a sigh, though there was a smile to her face.
“Goodnight, James,” she whispered, her smile becoming wider as she said his name.