His bailiff raced up with a couple of estate workers in tow just as Angus and Andy leaped onto the dock. Hamish had observed the whole scene imperviously from the boat.

Kylemore supposed that all that angry Yorkshire muscle intimidated the villagers. A justified reaction, he admitted, blearily eyeing his assailant’s brawny form.

Ashton’s rage remained banked behind his black eyes, but at last he glanced at his sister, who stood as a barrier between him and her kidnapper. “Are you all right, lass? By God, if he’s hurt you, I’ll kill him in truth.”

“Your Grace!” The bailiff arrived, panting in his heavy black coat and old-fashioned knee breeches. “This villain’s rampaging around the estate accusing you of terrible crimes. I’ve warned him you’ll have him in the stocks for slander.”

“Aye, and I’ll see this overbred wastrel hang for rape and kidnap,” Ashton growled. “Verity lass, tell them what he did to you.”

“Ben…” she said unsteadily.

“Go on, tell them. Tell them how he set those great bully boys on me and abducted you at the point of a gun. I’ve had no rest for weeks imagining what you’ve suffered.”

Kylemore braced himself for the scalding condemnation he deserved. If she chose to denounce him, he had no defense.

She lifted her chin in a gesture he found heartbreakingly familiar. Her face was pale and set with proud determination.

“I am the Duke of Kylemore’s mistress and I am with him of my own free will,” she said loudly enough for all around them to hear. Then softly and in a broken voice, she added, “I’m sorry, Ben.”

Kylemore was moved beyond words to hear her claim him so unequivocally as her lover. How he loved her. He’d do anything for her. Anything. Including let her go if that was what she really wanted. In spite of their estrangement, he took her in his arms. Without hesitation, she leaned into him.

Bewilderment replaced the violence in Ashton’s expression. “Verity lass?”

Kylemore found it in himself to pity the man’s confusion. Benjamin Ashton wasn’t the villain here. He merely protected his sister. It wasn’t his fault the game had become considerably more complicated since that stormy day in Whitby.

Kylemore spoke over the top of Verity’s head, which rested with a trust he couldn’t help but cherish on his chest. “Come up to the house, man. It does your sister’s honor no credit to stand around brawling in the public street.”

Ashton’s “You give nowt for my sister’s honor,” clashed with his bailiff ’s protests. “Your Grace, this lout is a public menace. Surely you want him in custody.”

Kylemore quelled his bailiff ’s objections with a glare. “No, I think not.” He looked around and found what he wanted. “We’ll take your carriage. I’ll send it back for you.”

The bailiff wrung his hands in nervousness. “Your Grace, there’s something else I have to tell you.”

The man was thorough but inclined to fuss. Details of estate management could wait.

“Later, McNab,” Kylemore snapped.

“But, Your Grace…” The man all but clucked with anxiety.

“I said later, man. Andy will drive. Ashton, if you’ll ride with us?”

The tone of ducal authority had the required effect on everyone, including the fractious Mr. Ashton and the fluttering Mr. McNab. The mob dispersed as Kylemore lifted Verity very gently up into his arms. Immediately, her lush scent filled his senses, reminding him piercingly of other times they had been as close as this, times when they’d been even closer and he thought he’d die with pure rapture.

“I can walk,” she protested.

“I know, mo cridhe.” The endearment slipped out although he knew he no longer had any right to use it. “But allow me to do you this service.”

She nodded and curled her arms around his neck as he limped across the flagstones to McNab’s carriage. His body ached after his pounding at Ashton’s hands, but there was no way in heaven or hell he was putting her down. Having Verity in his arms was too sweet.

He’d never hold her like this again.

What she’d said to her brother still echoed in his mind—would always echo in his mind.

He glanced back at Ashton to see if he meant to cooperate. The fellow hesitated, then followed, his face stiff with barely controlled anger.

Verity still trembled with reaction as she sat next to Kylemore and opposite Ben in the carriage. The rig wasn’t designed to hold two such large men at one time, and space was cramped. It seemed more restricted because of the hostility smoldering between her companions.

“Stop it, both of you! You’re acting like schoolboys!” she snapped when the door closed on them. “Kylemore, he had every right to hit you. Ben, if I’ve forgiven him for abducting me, you can too.”

Tags: Anna Campbell Historical
Source: readsnovelonline.net